#now is not that day but until then just fucking be nice. it is not difficult

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw

You have an important document from your work that needs to be fixed now, but your poor boyfriend König already got worked up the moment you leant down to retrieve your book from a lower shelf moments ago, your ass in full display to him, so you compromise when he look at you with that heavy cock hanging between his thighs, “liebling, please, I won’t interrupt you doing your work.” he says while pulling you onto his lap, your core rest just against his growing erection. How can you say no when he pleads so nicely?

Your arms wrapped around his neck, typing on your phone and dealing with the job, while König humping like a dog in heat against your clothed pussy, groaning and growling just beside your ear as he prods his tip repeatedly at your clit, still cheekily trying to let you lose control and finish whatever you’re doing now. But he needs to be a good boy, he already promised you he’ll hold back until you have time, so he settles with grinding his cock along your pussy for now.

You hum in approval, sparing a glance at him and his dick when he slide it between your pussy lips, your panties’ already a mess after he pulled down the hem of your panties and pumped a load inside, clinging onto your skin and showing the curve of your mound.

“I can’t wait anymore, Süßer…bitte bitte…” A grin decorates your lips as you see his face, all flush with the desire burning in his body, can’t even think straight and talk coherently, because sweetie, he just wants to sink his cock inside your drenched cunt and fuck you so good, overwhelm you in pleasure so you can forget about your job.

So you finally set down your phone. Actually, you already finished correcting the mistakes in your documents minutes ago, but the sight of him blabbering and moaning, like all he wants in this world is you and your pussy, is just too entertaining.

“Oh…oh my god…” Your teasing words don’t even have a chance to make their way out of your lips, the moment you put away the phone, he already stands up and flip you onto the mattress, slamming his cock inside you in one swift move, legs pressed back to your breast for mating press, pounding into you with the full force of his hips that you’re practically screaming his name in ecstasy.

Just don’t let him discover that you pretend to be occupied by work for a few more minutes, just to see him eagerly rolling his hips against your slick folds, unless you want to walk side to side the next day, from how he teach you a lesson with his weapon that he calls his cock.

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Suguru Geto x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Mentions of sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, reader has an illness, mentions of eating habits, some descriptions of readers looks (not completely ambiguous) cruelty from Duke Gojo. OOC. So much ANGST. Gojo is TERRIBLE you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 6.2 k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC, infedility, an arranged marriage set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

♔Part One - ♔ Playlist (just starting, so a few songs for now!)

Part Two

You’re sitting at the long, elegant breakfast table in the Gojo manor, cutting up a delectable crepe that you’d help make, just a week later. You’re blissfully alone, until you hear giggling down the hall, and it’s your ‘husband’ Duke Gojo, and one of his mistresses. She seems to be the main one he enjoys, a short little redhead who dresses most scandalously.

He pauses as he’s near the table, looking at you now. You elegantly dab the corner of your mouth with a napkin, smiling at them. “Hello Miss Catherine, would you enjoy breakfast?” You ask, earning Gojo’s icy blue glare, he just hates it so much when you offer in the morning.

“I cannot impose your grace, but thank you kindly.” She curtseys, and is flushed pink, you nod with a little smile, at least she had manners… aside from fucking your husband of course.

“Of course. I hope you have safe travels.” Her eyes glisten then, as she looks at Gojo, then at you, then down at her feet, wringing her hands.

“Thank you, your grace is far kinder than you should be.” She leaves then, excusing herself to Gojo, who comes and sits next to you, plopping down and glaring, long legs spread wide.

“Why are you so bloody cordial to her?” He demands, you just give him a look, pursing your lips.

“You want me to be rude to your lover? That would displease you.”

“But you’re nice… how-”

“I shall not displease you as a wife, even if I cannot fulfill all duties.” You turn your nose up then, tilting your chin up, feeling his glare bore through you as you bite another piece, moaning softly. His eyes drop to your lips, just staring, making you nervous. “Have something on my face?”

“Syrup, you’re quite messy.” You lick your lip then, and he’s glaring as if you’ve created such a transgression. “How can you be so nice!?”

“I’m stuck in this situation, miserable… Why be more miserable.” You mumble, then curse yourself internally, you’ve revealed too much. You clear your throat then with a little smile. “Would you like breakfast, dear husband?”

“I suppose, you’re over there feasting, going to have to tie your corset strings tight to accommodate.’ Your fork clatters to your plate then, gaze locking with his, and he’s raised a thin white brow.

“Eating is unattractive, perfect, I’ll continue on. I’m unattractive to you anyway.” You shove another bite in your mouth, closing your eyes and making a show of moaning in pleasure as you do.

“Everything you do is unattractive.” He quips, earning a quirk of your lips.

“Splendid, everything is in order then.” You brightly smile, hiding the intense pain you feel every day next to this cruel man. You will never allow him to see you weak, hurt, ever again though.

“I’ll have some, if it has you stuffing your face so. I don’t usually see you eat much.” He grumbles then, and you ring for one of the servants to bring more, asking her with a polite smile.

“True, my appetite is small usually.” You say, and soon a plate of crepes is in front of Gojo, and he cuts it elegantly, biting and chewing thoughtfully, before moaning, lapping up the cream on top with a tongue along his lip.

“It’s delicious. Thank the cook for me.” He says to the servant then, Gojo was actually very kind to them all, it’s only you who earns his ire.

“Your grace. It’s the Duchess who prepared this.” She curtsies then leaves, and Gojo scowls at you, those vivid blue eyes boring through your soul.

“You?” He speaks as if you've truly been doing something terrible. You can't stop your eye roll.

“Indeed. No worries, it's not poisoned.” You take a sip of your coffee, sighing as it hits your throat. You’re asthmatic and at times coffee is all that can help, it’s been flaring lately from all the upset of living with him.

“Why would you cook? You’re a lady, a duchess. Not a kitchen wench.” You scoff a bit, leaning back in your chair.

“I enjoy cooking, my parents allowed me to always spend time in the kitchens. Is this unacceptable as a wife?”

“I… I mean… no. I’ll not stop you from cooking.” He bites it again, sighing happily, long white lashes fluttering shut. “I’d prefer you as a cook than a wife.”

Ah, there it is, the knife twisting. Daily.

“I’m sure you would. I would also, then I could happily marry some baker somewhere, couldn’t I?” He’s back to scowling, hand taking the juice in his crystal glass and sipping, scowling over the rim.

“A baker over a Duke?”

“Indeed, anyone that looks at me kindly would do. As you look at Miss Catherine in fact. But she is beautiful, isn’t she?” You raise a challenging brow.

“Indeed she is.” He huffs, looking away then, snatching up a newspaper and pretending to read it. He does this every morning. “You think you’re so beautiful.”

“I think everyone is beautiful in their own way.” He peeks up, pursing full lips at you now. “I’m not beautiful to you, but I am to others. That’s fine for me. I do not presume such desire from you, and I never will. Even when we’re not having babies, and they ask. I assume you’ll have some with your very loud mistress.”

“I will not have babies with my mistress, blasted you’re a fool.” Satoru Gojo brushes his hair back now, frustratedly. “I suppose if we’re forced at some point…”

“I’ll just blame it on me. Don’t worry, we’ll never have to.” You sip your bitter coffee again as his lips part. “I’ll never force that upon you.”

“Well… I…” He looks flushed suddenly, not even meeting your gaze, throwing down his newspaper. “Good, we’re in agreement.”

“Indeed. How are those crepes?”

“Passable.” It’s such a lie, as his plate is entirely gone, but now that he knows it is you who made them, he can’t give you a compliment. “Lord Geto will be here tonight, he for some reason enjoys your presence.”

“Ah, I can’t imagine why. I’m so intolerable.”

“You’ve a smart mouth.”

“I’ll shut up then, your grace. I shall not displease my husband.” You sip your coffee again, and he’s sputtering.

“What’s wrong with you!?”

“A lot, apparently, according to you.”

“You act so bloody calm! Are you inept? I’m fucking her in the room right next to you, do you not hear?”

“I do indeed, it’s quite bothersome but as long as you’re pleased, husband.” That word spills like venom out of your mouth, for he should have never been so. “You’d have me be rude to sweet Miss Catherine?”

“I… you…” He stands then, knuckles gripping the table so hard they’ve gone white now. “Prepare a fine dinner, and I’ll be inviting Miss Catherine, so I’m not bored with you all night.”

“Oh, of course, shall I prepare her a dress too, your grace? I’m not sure she has anything elegant.” He throws his silverware to his plate, clattering, and you smile, sugary sweet up at him. “Am I overstepping? Of course you should buy her a wardrobe, worry not for me, I have my old things.”

“I’ll buy you a bloody wardrobe, you cannot go to the season in old gowns.”

“No need.”

“I will!” He steps up to you, and you feign confusion as he bends down, eyes drinking you in carefully, vermillion lips opening and closing. You see his pretty face far too close. How can someone be made so beautiful and be so cruel? “I’ll have you at the modiste tomorrow.”

“Should I bring Miss Catherine-” Satoru Gojo slams his hand on the table now, his other hand grabbing your chin.

“You feel nothing when I flaunt her? When I fuck her loudly? When I invite her to everything? When I touch her…” His caress sends shivers down your spine, as he holds your face like it's something delicate, when he so clearly hates you.

“Nothing, dear husband, why should I? You're not truly mine, just in circumstance.” You smack his hand down, smiling fake right up at him, watching his left eye twitch with anger.

“Do you feel anything or are you just this… shell of a woman.” You are making me this way to survive.

“Who am I but an obedient wife. I shall make sure Miss Catherine is so welcome, and Lord Geto.”

Satoru stomps away then, and you allow yourself to drop this fucking facade for just one moment, breathing in quick, shallow pants. You throw the warm coffee down your throat, coughing and rubbing your collarbone now, shaking as the emotions hit you so goddamn hard your throat is constricted.

“Your Grace…” Your Nanny has come now, you’ve loved her your entire life, she comes to caress your back so carefully. You inhale her familiar scent, sighing. 

Watching you like this has been killing her, you know.

“Prepare a meal for Lord Geto and Miss… Catherine.” The name tastes like bile on your tongue, and you watch your Nanny’s own anger. “I’m fine, Nan.”

“It’s unacceptable, even for a Duke. I’m so worried…”

“Do not worry.” Though you barely want to wake in the morning. “I will be just fine, Nan.”

“Lord Geto adored you.”

You blink back emotion, feeling that tightness again. “I know.”

“Should you allow this and do nothing?”

“I… can’t stop him.”

“You could have happiness.” She whispers, holding your hands tightly. You look down at that, nervously, lashes casting shadows under your tired eyes. “I’ve overstepped.”

“No, no… I will think of that later. Let us prepare the staff.”

“Indeed.” She kisses your cheek, and you damn near cry from that, and then you go about your duties, as the Duchess.

The dinner  that night was a grand affair, with the long, candlelit table dressed in pristine white linens, a bouquet of red and white roses in the center. The silverware sparkled, and the crystal glasses sang with the promise of fine wine. You had taken special care to ensure that every detail was perfect, from the delicate china to the scented candles that cast a warm glow over the room.

You had overseen every bit of the meal as well, and as Satoru comes down with Miss Catherine on his arm, even he pauses a bit. Catherine’s eyes light up. “This is so beautiful, your Grace!”

You give her a little nod of your head. “Thank you, I worked a lot on this, I hope it’s adequate, husband?”

He blinks a bit, for his manor had never been so spotless, nor had anything been set up so extravagant, but all he does is shrug one broad shoulder, wrapping an arm around Catherine’s waist. She did not wear a corset, she wore some looser dress that showed an insane amount of her bosoms, to the point it was obscene, but Gojo probably enjoyed it.

“It’s passable.” Catherine blinks up at him a bit.

“It’s beautiful!”

“Did I ask you?” He says tersely, removing his hand, and she just pouts a bit, wringing her hands in front of herself.

“Sorry your Grace.” He rolls his eyes, then takes in your outfit slowly, as if he was analyzing every bit of you. You were wearing a very beautiful crimson gown with beading on the square shaped bodice. You also had lace along the puffed sleeves, and it’s cinced in the middle tightly, making your waist look impossibly tiny. His look lingers on your bodice, at the hint of breasts pushed up in the neckline.

It was lower cut but nothing too revealing, and you had looked in the mirror and saw how beautiful you looked, though you knew you pale in comparison to anyone for your husband. So you did not dress for him, no, you dressed for your role, as the perfect Duchess.

“You look a vision if I may say, your Grace.” Catherine whispers, and you smile a bit at that.

“Thank you Miss Catherine. This was one of my favorite gowns. I hope it’s passable for the dinner?” You ask Satoru then, and his eyes are dilated now, as he slowly licks a glossy lower lip.

“Passable.” He manages, shrugging again, then pulling Catherine back against him, kissing down her neck.

That knife in your chest twists, as you realize you could look the most beautiful, hair perfectly coifed in ringlets, glittering rubies on your neck, rouge on your cheeks… it did not matter that you glitter under these chandeliers. You’re disgusting to him, he makes it so clear as he fondles Catherine.

The doorbell rings and you realize Lord Geto is here, and his arrival was like a breath of fresh air for you, his tall, commanding presence filling the room. His dark brown eyes light up when he sees you, coming over with a bottle of wine in his hands, he bends down and takes your bare hand, kissing the back of it. You feel Satoru’s angry gaze on you both.

“Thank you so very much, Lord Geto.” You whisper, feeling your cheeks heat when his eyes drink you in, his lips parting. His straight nose has nostrils flaring when he steps back and looks fully at you.

“Forgive me, you’re the most beautiful vision I’ve seen. I was left rather… well, stupid.” You giggle behind your hand at that, shaking your head.

“You go on too much.” You shove him playfully with a couple fingers, taking in his dark blue suit.

“You do go on too much.” Satoru says, and now Suguru takes in his friend and Miss Catherine, and his eyes go wide, darting between you and them.

“The fuck is this, Satoru?” Suguru says then, and Satoru pulls Miss Catherine up more to introduce her.

“My mistress. Say hello, Catherine.”

He scowls now, then looks back at you again. “Your mistress comes to dinner parties with nobility?”

Satoru scowls himself now. “It’s just you, Suguru, of course she can’t come to typical ones.”

“Just me… and that’s acceptable?” He gestures to her, and Satoru scoffs, as Catherine looks down nervously. “In front of your wife!?”

“She cares not. Do you, Duchess?” You sigh, putting on that mask you’ve used all week now.

“Miss Catherine is here every day. So… why not have her for dinner? Whatever pleases my husband.”

“What the actual fuck is happening here? Can’t even be discreet? What would your family think.”

“I care not what they think. Now, let’s eat, are you hungry love?” He cooes to her, and she nods, blushing on her pale cheeks. He leads her to the table and scooches her chair close, looking right at you as if hoping for a response, but you just clutch the wine bottle in your hand, smiling up at an appalled Suguru.

“Let’s sit, yes?” You say softly, and he sighs, nodding and coming to sit next to you, across from Satoru and his lover.

You played the gracious hostess, greeting them with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, a smile that further infuriates Gojo. He seems to hate how little you pretend to care, so you continue that way.

Suguru saw right through you though, his gaze was sharp as the first course was served, you felt his hand cover yours under the table. You tense a bit, at just how good it feels, to be touched, and how his big hand takes yours over. He squeezes just a bit, under that tablecloth, sipping wine with his other hand.

“You’re not okay with this. You can’t be.” He says softly, and you just shrug slightly, turning your hand and entwining it with his, and he sucks in a breath a bit, as his dark lashes lower over his eyes.

“I have no choice but to be.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“He said I’m disgusting. So.” Suguru glares now, his grip so tight you wince a bit, as he looks at his friend, who’s being fed by Catherine, she dabs his mouth with a handkerchief softly, giggling.

“You know that’s not true. So beautiful I couldn’t form a word.” You look down now, staring at an elegantly tied cravat.

“You were always too kind.”

“What are you two talking about over there?” Satoru asks, popping a bite of food into his mouth and chewing. You pull your hand away, even if he cannot see, earning a frown from Suguru.

“How beautiful the Duchess is. Don’t you agree, Satoru?” He asks, and raises a brow as Satoru glares at him, then at you.

“Passable.” He says for the third time that day. Or was it the fourth. “She’s of no interest to me, not my type. What’s it matter to you?”

“Perhaps you require spectacles if you think she’s not. Especially, and I mean no offense Miss Catherine, sitting next to her and finding her better company.”

“She’s beautiful, Lord Geto.” You say, earning his scowl, and Gojo’s, for what you didn’t know. And Miss Catherine is pouting.

“The Duchess is the most stunning lady, all of the Ton says so, they say it in every paper.” She says, and now Gojo is more annoyed clearly, slamming back the wine and having another poured by one of the servants.

“Thank you Miss Catherine.” You say, and Geto’s anger radiates through his body as he watches them, gulping down his own wine. “Lord Geto… tell me how you have been.”

He clearly didn’t wanna let this go, but he pushes it back, and now the conversation around the table flowed as smoothly as the wine, but you could feel the undercurrents of this tension. Miss Catherine giggled too loudly, and Gojo’s arm is around her shoulders, but his eyes are never leaving yours, as he caresses her bare skin and it makes you sick.

The meal progressed, with dish after dish parading out from the kitchen. The aromas wafted around the room, tantalizing everyone’s senses. Yet, you felt nauseous, unable to take a bite without feeling like you’d choke, throat feeling tight. Geto noticed, his gaze flickering to your plate with concern.

“You’ve eaten nothing, Duchess.” He says softly, and you try to take a little scoop of the soup apologetically.

“She ate like a pig this morning. So perhaps she tightened that corset a few laces tighter.” You put your spoon down, as you choke back emotion, hatred, but the tears begin to form, and Gojo looks down now, clearing his throat.

“You’re a fucking dick, Satoru. Please eat something.”

“No, he’s correct, I ate a lot this morning.” You take a sip of water now, as you blink back tears, and you fail at it, because everyone in the room watch them glisen under the soft lighting.

 “You should eat, it’s very delicious.” Gojo says then, you are so confused you just stare at him. “The soup is very good.”

“The soup.” The man had basically told you to not eat, and now seems to feel bad perhaps? But it means nothing, his sad attempts at feeling sorrow for his miserable actions.

“I’ll refrain from making those crepes. So I should not lace so tightly.” You say instead, and Satoru won’t even look at you now. Catherine is a good bit heavier than you, so you can’t fathom what he means, as you’re not considered anything other than an ideal size to society. Even if you were heavier, you did not deserve such treatment, but he says nothing as Catherine wolfs down food..

It’s just you. He just hates you.

“The crepes were very good though.” His blue gaze hits you over his glass now, something in them you can’t describe, as you trail your slender fingers over the stem of your own glass. “Do not let me stop you from eating if you wish to.”

“I’ll do whatever pleases you, husband.” He reddens in the face, as you sip your wine, wishing you could throw it back, but you cannot, you’re a lady, aren’t you?

 You tried to ignore the way Gojo’s fingers danced along Miss Catherine’s skin, but it was like a knife to your soul with every touch, as she’s so free and happy with him, and all you can do is sit stiffly, with your back straight, cutting your food just so. You have to be perfect. Don’t you?

Perfect.

Composed. You cannot lose that.

Stay calm.

As the evening grew late, and the wine flowed more freely, the conversation grew more heated. Gojo’s laughter grew louder, his jokes more crude, and Miss Catherine’s giggles more frequent. Geto’s eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He leaned in closer to you, his voice a low murmur. “This isn’t right. You deserve better than this.”

“What I deserve is irrelevant. This is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I will play it as best I can.” You replied, your voice steadier than you felt. His legs spread a bit, and you flush as your thigh feels his well muscled one under the silk of your dress. He leans back, studying you with concern.

The dessert was served, a decadent chocolate torte with raspberry sauce that you had made from scratch. As you watched Gojo feed a piece to Miss Catherine with his own fork, you felt a strange sense of detachment. You were no longer the shy, hopeful girl who’d entered this manor, were you?

Perfect.

Composed.

Stay calm.

You were the Duchess now.

“This is so decadent, your Grace! What is this recipe?” Miss Catherine asks now, clearly drunk. You tense a bit.

“I made it.” The room is silent, and Satoru puts his fork back in a piece, looking at you for a moment, before feeding her another bite of it.

Something within you snapped. You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me, I believe I need some fresh air,” you announced, your voice cool and collected. The room fell silent as you made your way to the doors, the fabric of your gown sweeping the floor behind you, softly swishing, as your slippered feet tapped on those marble floors.

Perfect!?

Composed!?

Your throat tightens as the night air meets you, and you inhale it greedily, crisp and cold, a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the dinner party. You stepped out into the garden, the very garden you’d first learned that your life was going to be miserable. If Satoru was anything, he was honest, as he had made sure to fuck whoever he wanted.

You just didn’t realize how much it was breaking you down. You shut your eyes, trying to focus on the calming scent of the blooming flowers and the soothing sound of the fountain. It’s running, splashing, and you focus on that sound, trying to let your mind go, to compose yourself.

Perfect…

Composed…

You want to punch him in the face, your nails are digging into your palms as you picture just that. Then you’d like to smack that smirk off his face, then turn and smack Miss Catherine too. Then, you’d like to-

“Duchess…” You gasp when you open your eyes, and Lord Geto is there, hands in his pockets, concern written all over his handsome face. His dark brown hair is long and silky, half put up, blowing gently in the breeze.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it. I’m trying.” You speak through gritted teeth, stepping further into the gardens, into the night, with the moonlight shimmering down.

“How can you take it at all? It’s disgusting. I’m so sorry I don’t know what he’s even thinking…” He follows you until you reach a bench, and you gesture for him to sit with you.

“He told me on the wedding day he wants anyone but me. So, we have done… absolutely nothing. And… never will.”

Suguru sputters at that, before running a hand over his face. “Let me talk some sense into him, I-”

“No, no. I feel it in how he looks at me. I’m intolerable.”

“Intolerable!? You know better. You know how every lady wants to be you, how every gentleman wishes you were theirs.” He’s gripping your shoulders, bare where he touches, and you soak up the warmth, as you soak in his sweet looks, and you whimper before you can stop it.

“I’m so sorry!” You pull back, turning away then, burying your face in your hands, but he’s got a big hand on your waist now, and it feels far too good.

“Look at me, Duchess.” You tentatively look back, and find yourself face to face with Lord Geto, your husband’s best friend, but that was far from your mind, when he cups your face. It’s not like the cold grab of Gojo, it’s delicate, it’s sweet, and your eyes lock then. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“I do?” You ask softly, and he scoffs a bit, thumb brushing an errant tear that escaped away.

“No one deserves this, but especially not you. He hasn’t even…”

“Nothing. He said he would never.”

“So get an annulment then, if that is how he will be.”

“I can’t just do that! My family planned this all. I am stuck forever, alone and unwanted and…”

“You’re not unwanted.” His voice is husky, drawing your attention to him, as your own hand slides up his chest, up his stark dress shirt. “I’d make you feel so beautiful.”

“Lord Geto…” Your tears are falling pathetically now, you can’t stop them, and he’s got both his hands on your face, swiping them away.

“I can’t do what I want, but I assure you I want… a lot.” Vivid images fly through your mind, as your heart starts racing, pulse hammering in your throat. “But I will beg forgiveness for this, because I can’t have you thinking this way, I can’t see you suffering and not…”

“Not what, Lord Geto?” He leans even closer, your lips just barely not touching, and you can’t breathe for a moment, as you realize what is happening.

“Kiss you, show you how worthy you are. Will you forgive this transgression?” He asks, and you scoot even closer, nodding.

“Kiss me, please. Please.” He moans, his eyes fluttering shut, then his lips descend on yours, and it’s nothing like the cold peck Gojo gave you, it’s hot, demanding, eager. You whimper into the kiss, opening your mouth, and his tongue darts in, as his hands slide down your body, the sides of your breasts, awakening them.

“Is it too much?” He whispers, pulling back, and you shake your head, now you are pulling him by the lapels of his suit.

“No, no. I don’t know what to do. Your tongue…”

“I wish it could taste every bit of you.” Now you’re blushing in the night, as his big hands take over your waist. “I won’t get to, but let me show you how much I’d die to have a moment with you. Just move your tongue back?”

“Yes, yes.” He’s back kissing you, and your tummy clenches, this heat in your core you’d barely felt before, as you move yours back tentatively, and you feel his grip tighten, his exhale, as Suguru holds you with his big hands, as he kisses you so passionately.

You feel so desired, as he’s gasping, as he’s pulling you damn near in his lap, gazing at you then with dilated pupils when he pulls back. “Fuck you’re perfect… you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Lord Geto. Thank you.” You tentatively peck a kiss on his neck then, making him moan, the sound you’d heard from Gojo’s chambers. His arms gently push you back a bit though.

“I cannot stand how badly I want you. Now it’s worse.” He looks up at the sky for a moment, breathing then looking back at you, smiling softly. “There is life in those gorgeous eyes now.”

“Is there?” You ask nervously, Suguru kisses your forehead sweetly, trying to compose himself.

“Don’t let him ruin it. I’ll see if I can get him to stop this. I promise I’ll try.” Suguru is running his fingers across your jawline now, exhaling, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pecks a kiss there, shocking you. “Forgive me for this.”

“Nothing to forgive. I will not speak of it. It’s not as if… he is not all over another woman.”

“If I weren’t his best friend I’d be licking under your skirts.” You gasp, and he chuckles a bit. “Forgive that.”

“You aren’t such a gentleman, are you Lord Geto?” You ask, giggling a bit, fuck he makes you feel happy? Doesn’t he?

He helps you to stand now, holding your hands. “I’m trying to be. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t cheer you up. I know, I’ll come back soon with a gift.”

“You should do no such thing!”

“I will. And to check on you. Come, let’s go inside.”

Your mind lingers to that kiss later that night, when you walk by Gojo’s chambers, and he’s left them cracked open. You peer in for a moment, seeing Catherine on top of him, riding him and crying out, as his big hands grip her backside. He’s softly moaning, and then catches sight of you. You back away, but he says nothing, he just watches you as he fucks into her.

Right at you.

His blue eyes are vivid as they do, as he moans and pumps up into her, and you feel a horrible mix of feelings when you walk away, down the hall. Your lips still tingle with Suguru’s kisses, your body has reacted to him eagerly, but that cannot be. You can never be with him, you’re stuck here, alone.

But it has given you hope.

Suguru had talked to him and ended up in a huge argument in Satoru’s study, until Suguru had stormed off angrily, and Satoru had simply slammed the door after. You hadn’t heard much, but it was a lot of Geto telling him to treat you better, and Gojo not listening. You appreciate Geto’s effort, but there is no helping it.

Your Nan is brushing your hair, as you now have on a thin white night shift, and she bends down a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You quite enjoyed Lord Geto, didn’t you?”

“Nan… yes. I did very much. But… he’s Gojo’s best friend. So nothing can come from it.”

“Did you all…”

“Kiss.” You squeal a bit, and Nan is smiling softly, hugging you gently around your shoulders. “It’s scandalous.”

“What’s scandalous is your husband having her at dinner. I am worried that if you find no comfort, you will hurt yourself.” She grabs your wrist, where there was a line, and she had found you that way, many years ago. You rub it softly, sighing.

“I will not, I promise Nan.”

Perfect.

Composed.

You must be this way.

“Do not feel bad for it, you do not deserve this treatment, what have you done to earn any anger, any cruelty? You’ve done nothing but be perfect.”

Perfect.

Composed.

“Perhaps you should go to the modiste tomorrow, get away from this…”

“Hell hole?”

She smirks at that, nodding. “That word, my Lady.”

“Indeed, getting out would not hurt. I will do so.” The door opens then, and Gojo stands there shirtless, earning a glare from Nan, who he grins at.

“I need to speak with my wife.” She curtseys, looking at you worriedly, but you nod at her, standing in the large, elegant room, and Satoru is walking to you as the door clicks shut.

“I’m sorry that I looked. I meant no disrespect.” You say then, and he crosses his arms, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“You’re apologizing for watching me cheat on you?” He demands, and you just nod, looking down.

“I know better than to.”

“Did you get curious?” His hand brushes back your hair, and you tremble, why don’t you hate his touch!?

“I suppose so. Not very ladylike of me.” His hands glide down your shoulders, and he’s even closer, his eyes swirling like storms in the night as his lids lower. He’s gleaming with sweat, with her all over him.

“I could be so convinced to show you things. If you begged me.” You slap his hand off then, glaring.

“I’ll never beg anyone. I don’t need to.”

“Oh no?”

“No, do you know how easily I could do what you do?” His eyes narrow, and he grips you tightly now, but you tilt your chin up, as your mind whirls with what Suguru had said. It’s as if it’s lit a fire, dim but there.

“Oh could you? You’re so conceited.”

“Me!? Me!? You!”

“You are!”

“You!” You shove him again, making him practically growl. “I let you fuck her anytime, I let her come to dinner, I’m doing everything perfect. Why do you insist on not leaving me alone?”

“You looked at me as if…” He trails off then, pulling your body against him, cool breath on your cheeks when he bends down. “You want me.”

“Fear not, I absolutely do not want you.”

He blinks as if you’ve hit him. Good.

“I was curious about the act, that's all. Perhaps I’ll find out on my own.” Now he’s squeezing you bruisingly, his chest rising and falling.

“Do you feel nothing at all!? Ever!? Are you made of ice?”

“You’re the cold one here, Satoru Gojo. Duke. What did I do to deserve any of this at all!”

“You didn’t…” He trails off, that same unreadable look on his handsome face, as he pulls back, releasing you. “I wouldn’t have done it, even if you begged.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then we’re on the same page. I won’t watch again, perhaps shut the door?”

“Shut the door. That’s all you have to say.”

“Mmhmm, oh tell Catherine good night for me.”

Duke Gojo laughs now, but it’s without humor, running a hand through his snowy white hair, messing it up. “Tell her good night!”

“Indeed. If that’s all?” You tap your bare foot on the cold floor, crossing your arms under your breasts, and you struggle to stay calm as his eyes roll down your body. “What, need to tell me I got fat from a crepe?”

“You’re nowhere near fat, stupid girl.” Your head falls back a bit in surprise, and he looks surprised as well, sighing then.

“Are you apologizing?”

“No, just stating… that it was incorrect to suggest otherwise.”

“Oh.” You look at him in shock now, as he’s on edge, so tense you can feel it in the air of the room. “Thanks?”

“Thanks for what? I’ve done nothing to earn a thanks.” Satoru’s stance is defeated, as he turns away now, his fists clenched on his sides. “How do you remain so composed? So perfect.”

Perfect.

Composed.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, but it’s my duty as a wife.” You say softly, and his head turns, as you study the strong muscles of his back, wishing you did not find that attractive at all.

“You’ll go to the modiste tomorrow, yes?”

“I will if you wish me to, husband.”

“You do anything I wish.”

“That’s my role, your Grace.” He leaves then, pausing at the door to look back at you, opening and closing his mouth as if to say something, but then he just… leaves.

You take a shaky breath as you lay down on your bed, far too big for just one person, but that’s how it would stay. A momentary apology… well not an apology but a lack of cruelty… could not fix this. Suguru gave you no hope for Gojo, no it gave you hope that perhaps you could find happiness, even in this horrible situation, so that you don’t hurt yourself.

You rub that scar again, your past was not as perfect as many thought, but you are strong. You’ll do this.

As you slumber that night, it’s a mix of dreams, of Suguru kissing you everywhere, and you finding that same pleasure you watched Lady Catherine get. But, instead of looking down at Suguru’s handsome face as you ride him, he shifts, and now it’s Satoru’s pretty face under you. Hungry blue eyes, white hair falling over his brow, as he grabs your hips.

No, no, no.

You awaken in the middle of the night, and force yourself back to sleep, to dream of anything other than the cruel man in the next room. Must he not even allow you to have a bloody dream? Now in your slumber it’s another man, blond and tall… you can’t see his face, because he’s kissing down your neck.

Who is he?

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 90)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (68) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (23)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.4k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

YFN POV

“For someone so independent, you’re very needy,” Jordan chuckled.

YFN pouted, looking at her watch again. “They’ve been gone all fucking day. Surely that’s a bad thing?”

The slightly smaller woman shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, what if they’re just tying everything up with a pretty bow to make sure that it’s all sorted today? With both Lucy and Leah speaking, and then our testimonials, along with Ridley and Alexia, and your injury report, surely that’s enough to have Kristie locked up for the foreseeable future.”

Kristie. She never wanted to hear that name again. Lucy had no intention of letting her be in the same room as her, and Leah had offered to go as a character witness, knowing that her fame would make them realise how important of a case it was.

Jordan reached out and squeezed her hand. “It should be an open and shut case. Especially seeing as you didn’t want to go for the harshest punishment.”

“I just didn’t want her doing it to anyone else. She needed to know it was wrong.”

“Some jail time and community service will definitely get the message across.”

“And restraining orders…” she murmured. That had been Lucy’s non-negotiable.

“Leah there is going to throw a spanner in the works too. Her platform is massive. No one in their right mind will want her publicly speaking about how Kristie got away with her friends being stalked and then assaulted to the point of this.”

She gestured to YFN sitting up in the hospital bed.

She squeezed her hand. “Thanks for being here, Dory.”

Jordan’s little smile took over from her serious, friend look. “Of course, mate. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

A few minutes later Lucy’s doctor returned, or rather, her doctor too.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” he said as he stood next to her bed with a gentle smile. He was one of those men that you were always comfortable around. The benevolent type. “The scans are good - better than I expected given your… history.” Another smile, though this one was sympathetic. “Would you like the good news or the very good news first?”

She felt herself let go of tension she didn’t realise she’d been holding.

“Save the best for last.”

“Very well.” He put the scans up on the light box and pointed to her collarbone. “The second surgery went well. The screws are holding, though I’m afraid I need you in the sling to keep it immobile for the next 4 weeks or so..”

She sighed, though knew it was the case. Her Christmas was officially in a sling.

He continued. “Unless there’s an incident, or any issues with pain, I won’t need to give it a check-up until just prior to Christmas, and then I’m hoping to have you out of it for the new year.”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, that’s positive…”

He moved onto the next two x-rays. “Your forearm and wrist are healing well, though I’m afraid the cast will need to remain on for the next 6-8 weeks. We’ll give you a check-up when we get rid of the sling. Your jaw is also healing nicely, I know the bruising has been persistent, but expect it to be gone in the next week or so..”

“I can handle the cast,” she chuckled. “My shoulder is just in need of a good movement.”

She’d just wanted to swing her arm around, to roll her shoulder, instead of having it stuck where it was. It was a level of frustrating that bordered on pain.

“There are a few small massages that you can do to help, though you’ll need to be quite gentle with them, and careful not to shift your collarbone too much.”

He handed her a sheet with the exercises.

“Lucy can help with these. Any issues, give me a call.”

“Thank you,” she replied, gratefully. She was always grateful at the opportunity for Lucy to touch her more.

Jordan took the sheet interestedly and looked over it.

“Now onto your ribs. They’ve been thrown around a bit…” he looked at her with eyebrows raised and she blushed, knowing full well that she’d been abusing them a little too much with Lucy. “…which I understand.” He was politely giving her an out. “You already had several past injuries and you’re very limited with your movements given your state, and so it’s understandable that your ribs are catching the brunt of it. Though, you’ll need to be more mindful. No overexertion. No twisting yourself. No…excessive movements.”

To his credit, he did seem entertained by it.

“I think you should call Lucy and tell her that directly,” Jordan joked.

YFN’s mouth dropped open, though he and Jordan shared a good chuckle at her expense. She made a mental note to not tell Lucy so that she didn’t lose any part of her sex life.

“Now onto your kneecap…”

She braced herself for bad news, but how could it be, when he’d said the worst of it first?

“It was only ever a minor crack, however I wanted you to keep your full weight off of it as you can’t exactly use crutches. I’m going to keep the brace on, however you can walk on it again.”

She grinned – her first thought being that Lucy was going to be so happy. She could picture her face lighting up now.

“Now don’t overdo it. Don’t put all of your weight onto it at once. Place your foot on the ground and ease your weight onto it. It’s a slow process, but you need to build that habit up so you’re not overdoing it. The brace will be on for another few weeks, and I’m hoping to take it off just before Christmas.”

No brace for Christmas. Lucy was going to be thrilled.

“Hoping…” he said again, making sure she understood that it was only a possibility at this stage. “…and you can take the brace off for showers now, just don’t put all of your weight on it in the shower.”

No more garbage bags. She nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

They finished up with him, getting her scripts for medication and some more information. Lucy, ever the anatomy fanatic, would want to know every detail possible. Especially because it was her.

She walked slowly to the car, relished the feel of being able to use her legs like legs again. She was officially The Little Mermaid.

She groaned the relief for her hips and lower back as she did so, knowing this would take a lot of strain from Lucy needing to carry her around.

She slipped into Miles, Lucy’s car, and Jordan slipped into the driver’s seat. The footballers had taken Leah’s Mercedes as it was lower to get into and Lucy hadn’t wanted her dropping into the seat and struggling to get out.

It was later in the afternoon now, and she looked at the time, wondering why it was all taking so long.

“Celebration dinner?” Jordan asked.

“Why do I feel like you all had this planned already?”

“Maybe. You know Lucy…”

“Has she messaged you?!” She looked over at Jordan who seemed to barely be able to see over the steering wheel. She gave a sympathetic smile. “No, sorry. But the table is still booked, so maybe we should see if they make it? I would suggest Katie and Caitlin but they’re not in town. Most of the girls are with their international squads. We can ask Alex but Jill is in Manchester. There’s a few other’s in town.. LJ and Keira, maybe?”

“Oh, that’s an idea!”

Jordan gave them both a call. LJ wasn’t available, however Keira and Georgia were. They met them at the Italian restaurant Lucy had booked and made a night of it. The girls joked about how they’d be in trouble if they were caught eating carbs when they were in season, though YFN had convinced them that they’d deserved it after their hard fought victory over the Netherlands. The more she got to know Keira, the more she got along with her. She opened up slowly, though at the end of the day, they both thought similarly, and had a similar sense of humour.

It was also one of the first times she’d been close and in intimate conversation with Georgia since she’d caught the first kiss between her and Lucy. They spoke about the game, Scotland, how much they needed to win by, Lumos and the interviews. The three footballers had a good catch up now that they all played for different teams, and they saw less of Jordan.

The two opted to skip dessert as they’d apparently already been too bad, though once they saw Jordan and YFN’s desserts, they couldn’t help but try a taste.

When their dinner was ending, she checked her phone and her stomach sank.

“Still nothing?” Jordan asked, seeing her reaction.

She gave a sigh. “No. You?”

She shook her head.

“Doesn’t usually take this long, surely?” Georgia asked. “What, are they hand delivering her to jail?”

“There must be a good reason…” Keira comforted. “Either way, we have time to do the interview if you want?”

They were being efficient, with Keira offering at dinner to come over and do the couch interview that YFN had suggested was best to ease the ‘Wonze’ fanatics of the internet. She still didn’t know Keira well, though she could see that she’d offered partly because not only did she want to get it over and done with, as she hated interviews, but she knew YFN needed a distraction from the current legal situation that Lucy and Leah were tied up in. She called Bridget and Emily to see if they were available last minute for the interview. They were more than eager, as she knew they would be, though still offered them extra pay for the inconvenience.

After dinner, they made their way to Lucy’s and settled in, Bridget and Emily setting up for the interview while she ran through queries with Keira prior to it.

“Did you read the questions and prompts I sent..?”

She hadn’t expected her to, as the interview wasn’t supposed to take place until later in the month, however things seemed to be working this way for her for some reason.

Keira nodded, asking questions and YFN couldn’t help but be impressed at her eye for detail.

She’d said that Jordan and Georgia didn’t have to stay, but they’d insisted, wanting to catch up on lost time.

The interview went for just over an hour, though it was exactly what she’d wanted. Keira had not been tense at all, and she was proud of herself for creating such an environment. To be fair, she even felt like she’d flirted with her a little, which had surprised the Australian. She’d never seen an interview with Keira so comfortable before. Hopefully that would suppress the ‘Wonze’ fanatics who’d been sending her so much hate on social media.

Keira took photos for their interview, while she answered Georgia’s questions about the content process. She had very little content outside of the Lionesses as she played at Bayern Munich and they weren’t exactly known for their social media. They didn’t have time for another interview that night as the girls had training the next day before flying out to Scotland, and needed to get rest.

They all left, though Jordan stayed with her. She looked at her watch as they walked out of the door. 8pm. She hadn’t heard from Lucy since 7am.

She sighed, dropping her hand in defeat. Jordan gave her a cuddle. “They’ll be home soon..”

She cuddled into her friend, allowing herself to relax when her phone buzzed. She jumped immediately and grimaced at the pain that shot through her body as she grabbed for her phone.

Joe calling…

At this time of night?

“Hey, Joe,” she answered, feeling awkward calling her that.

“Hello, YFN. How are you?” Her voice sounded as soft and regally calm as ever. It was comforting to her.

“I’m doing well. It’s late – is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. I was calling to check in on the hearing today. Did it go well?”

She wondered if she’d used any of her influence to help the situation. Her voice suggested that perhaps she had, though just a little.

“Luce and Leah aren’t home yet. They’ve been gone for over 13 hours.”

“I see. It’s not unusual, though. I’d like an update when they’re done, please. I need to make sure this is all wrapped up so that you’re safe.”

Seeing as you don’t want the security team I offered, she could practically hear her saying. Catherine was worried about her, which made her feel loved. She’d never had that from a mother figure beyond her grandma. Her heart softened.

“Thank you…” she said, gratefully. “I’ll let you know when I know. Also, I had a check up today. Everything is healing well, and I can now walk, albeit gently.”

“I read the report you sent through,” YFN could hear the smile in her voice. “I was very happy to read that. Hopefully you can be moving a bit more freely by the new year.”

“Fingers crossed!”

She gave a light laugh. “Mine certainly are. Now, I was thinking about the Gala event this week that Lucy and Alessia are doing this week. We’re a bit on the back foot with everything since there’s so much going on, however I was hoping that the timing will work out to have our own Lumos event this week, on Friday or Saturday perhaps. Do you think we could get any high profile players in that time?”

“How many were you thinking?”

“Ten maximum. I don’t want the focus to be lost if there are too many.”

“Well, Lucy will be with me for a little before headed back to Barca. Most girls will be back with their teams by then. I think I can get Jordan Nobbs, Leah Williamson, potentially any players from the WSL, and also perhaps… perhaps…”

“Perhaps?”

She pondered. “Perhaps… Alexia. That’s a big maybe, though.”

“Alexia would be the white whale, if we could get her on. Otherwise, it sounds great. Perhaps some other nationalities too, if you can?”

“Coaches too?” She asked, trying to think who would be available at a moment’s notice. “I could ask Sarina. Emma. I could get Caitlin for Australia, Katie for Ireland, Yui for Japan, Ashley for Canada, or similar if they're not available?”

“Brilliant. I do hate to drop this on you last minute, though I have been wanting to get it done before the rush prior to Christmas. If you could look through availability and give me a date and names, I’ll work on booking a location for Friday or Saturday so we can start promoting it.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you, YFN. About tomorrow night, I have a location to meet. I’m assuming Lucy will be coming also?”

“I think Leah and Jordan have a right to be there too.”

She could practically hear her nodding. “I’ve sent the location and time to Mark. I have an aircraft departing at night for you. I’ll put you all on the manifest. You may need to clear it with the Lioness management.”

“Leah will handle that…”

“Perfect. I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Cath-” She cut herself off. “Are you sure about this?”

“There’s only so much hiding I can do. This is an unnecessary evil, unfortunately. You’ve been through too much already. I won’t have you fighting him too. I’m hoping to finish this once and for all with him tomorrow night, though from then on, my intention is still to be the silent partner while you are the face of Lumos. Has anything changed for you in regards to that?”

The empathy in her voice had YFN feeling comfortable. Comfortable enough that she could have said no, and Catherine would have accepted it without question.

“Nothing has changed on my end. I’m just very eager to get us onto a schedule where I’m not chasing my tail with interviews and events.” She chuckled. Catherine shared in her chuckle.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been hoping the exact same. It’s good to hear we’re on the same page, though. We’ll speak more tomorrow night. Until then – keep me posted on the hearing and anything you need at all, let me know.”

YFN and Jordan fell asleep on the couch, their feet overlapping under the blanket they shared as their heads were at opposite ends. She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, however she was woken by a warm kiss to the cheek and Lucy’s deep, comforting voice. “I’m here, little one. Everything’s okay.”

“Luce?” She mumbled, half asleep. She opened one eye, followed drearily by the other as she looked at her favourite person. Her expression was peaceful, which calmed the Australian.

She looked down at Jordan who was sitting up with Leah next to her, the two talking quietly. She looked back at Lucy.

“What happened?”

“It’s done, little one.”

She tried to prop herself up, and Lucy helped her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to pull her up into a sitting position. “It took that long?”

“The incident happened in Spain, so we were delayed due to that, however someone pulled some strings for us.” Catherine. Lucy gave her a knowing look. “Without her, this would have been dragged out for weeks.”

“It’s done?”

She nodded as she reached out to stroke the yellowing bruises on her jaw. “Jail time for a period. Community service for the rest, as you didn’t want her to be stuck in there for the maximum time. Restraining orders for life. She won’t be attending any games in the future. And she apologised. It’s done.”

“She…apologised?”

“Mainly to me, but yes. She cried a lot.”

“That must have been hard…”

“Yes and no. I don’t like seeing someone upset, but she did hurt the person I love so… my empathy was not there for her. I’m just happy it’s all over.” She leant forward and gave her a soft kiss on the temple. “What did you two get up to, love?”

“We had dinner with Keira and Georgia,” Jordan said from across the couch.

Leah gave YFN a smile. She looked tired.

Lucy was caught off guard. “Oh?”

“It was great,” she reassured, putting her hand under the collar of her shirt, and on that strong collarbone of hers. “I did my couch interview with Keira after it.”

Lucy looked impressed, though like she had questions for when they were alone. She didn’t blame her.

“And?” Jordan prompted.

“Oh! And Lumos wants to host a public event with 10 female footballers in London this Friday or Saturday. Are you all free?”

“You know I am,” Lucy murmured, leaning her head against hers.

“I’ll be in town.” Leah answered.

“You already know I’m in.” Jordan agreed, looking at Leah. YFN hadn’t realised until just then that it must have been a while since they’d done something like that together in public.

“And I messaged Riddles, hoping to get Alexia if she’s back in town…”

“Mmn. I’m sure it’ll all be perfect. You’re good at the last minute organising,” Lucy teased.

She rolled her eyes. “And whose fault is that?”

She gave an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I do wonder how the doctor went today? I have an email titled: ‘No funny business.’”

Jordan cackled. Actually cackled. YFN blushed, a little embarrassed and frustrated that she had to tell her. Lucy didn’t understand. Bless her, she was incredibly smart, though a lot less quick for these types of situations.

“Everything is healing well apart from my…ah…ribs. They’ve not been having the rest they should.”

“I believe he said they’ve been ‘thrown around a bit’…” Jordan offered.

Lucy clicked and gave a guilty look. Before she could speak, YFN jumped in, trying to distract her with ten different things to keep her mind away from limiting sex with her.

“But everything else is healing well… hoping to be out of the sling by the new year and the knee brace by Christmas. Also, I can officially walk.” She gave a proud smile. “No more looking for the wheelchair in Scotland, Luce. I’ll be the one-armed flamingo with the Australian flag.”

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”

I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 

She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”

This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”

“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”

“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”

“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”

“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”

“He didn’t?”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”

“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”

“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”

“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”

“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are your parents home?”

“Yes.”

“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”

I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.

“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”

“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”

“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”

“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”

“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”

“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”

“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”

“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”

She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”

She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Worth it then.”

Prev // Next

AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡

[heyaheiya]

Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕

Sorry this took so long 😭😭

— — — — — —

Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.

His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.

As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.

“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”

“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”

“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”

“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”

Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.

“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”

“But they’ll be lonely :(“

Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.

Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.

“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”

“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”

“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”

That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.

“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”

“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”

Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!

“What??”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”

The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.

“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”

The receptionist looked befuddled.

“Oh no.. what did she do?”

“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”

A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.

Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.

“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”

“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”

“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”

Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.

“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“

Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?

“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”

He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.

Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.

“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”

Fuck. He knew what he had to do.

+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.

Y/N: What the freak

When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.

It’s silent for a long time.

“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”

“Right, I’m really sorry.”

…

“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“

“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”

“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”

“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”

“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”

“Oh I’m so scared😒”

You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.

“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”

“Fuck off.”

“There we go.”

Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.

“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”

“There are other swear words y’know?”

“Take me seriously.”

Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.

“How do I fix this??”

“Well..”

You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.

After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.

“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”

It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.

“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”

“Perchance..”

“Well??”

“A second date?”

— — — — — — — — — — —

This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏

[stormyelliotwritez]

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 10

READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!

-This chapter is very heavy, but we’ll get you home, yeah?  -I’ve never written an action scene and action isn’t really my strong suit, so be kind please.  -So many military inconsistencies and just overall incorrect military vocabulary. I’m sorry. 

tw: hostage situation, torture, sensory deprivation, sexual harassment/abuse, battlefield type elements (ie: explosions, gunfire, little bit of murder)

Food was deposited in your cell again and while you were concerned with being poisoned, you were also starving and would be unable to fight back if you didn’t get some calories into your stomach. You ate the packaged items as you stared at the hot pasta, the granola bar turning to dust in your mouth as you grabbed the water and chugged down half of it. 

You didn’t stop counting though. When you reached 190,000, two days had passed since you’d been taken. You restarted at one, using your finger to drag through the grime on the wall and create another tally just above the top of the cot. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, able to see large shapes. 

Until they opened the door again and blinded you. 

Despite never being able to find him before, Moses’ compound was easy to locate. Well, the one in the UK anyways. Of course, it was a trap and the 141 knew this. It was too obvious. But the issue was in finding where they were keeping you and what the actual trap was. 

Another video dinged on the laptop, immediately garnering everyone’s attention as they huddled around the small screen. 

The lens was dirty, being wiped clean by Moses’ sleeve. As he backed away with a wicked smile and a small knife dangling from his fingers, he revealed you behind him and your current situation. Tied to a chair, cloth in your mouth and tied around your head. That wasn’t what had the team concerned. It was the rivulets of blood that trailed from the clean, shallow cut across the front of your throat. 

“You boys better hurry up. I might decide that I prefer her dead. She does look so pretty covered in her own blood.” Moses came to stand behind you, lifting your head and pulling your hair back from the wound on your neck. “Do you think they’ll come to save you, precious? I think they will. Too bad they won’t make it.” Your eyes opened wide as you found the camera, shaking your head in a panic. In your mind, if you died, they would move on. But you couldn’t bear the thought of a world without them in it. Then the screen cut to black. 

“Fuck, he’s going to kill her just to get under our skin,” Johnny anquishly moaned out, his fingers pulling at the cropped mohawk on his head. Simon’s fingers slid over the other man’s, gripping them tight in his fist and pulling them away from the delicate hair. “We’ll find her and we’ll end this,” Simon grunted, looking down at the sergeant. 

“Alright boys, let’s get our girl back.” 

The slice to your throat stung, burning as your blood now dribbled from the wound as it dried up. You’d expected to be sent back to your cell, but was instead taken to another room. Two women stood in the back, holding garments of clothing and medical supplies as you were shoved into the room and the door locked behind you. 

They were silent as they cleaned you up, getting a bandage on your throat and unzipping your pretty dress just to shove you into a scratchy beige shirt and black cargo pants. Ones that matched every other person you’d seen in this camp. They wanted you to blend in, harder to find that way, you supposed.  

When the door opened again, it was Moses. Leering at you as he came to circle your weak body, hand on his chin with the other on his elbow as he inspected you. “You clean up so nicely, my dear. Though I will miss that pretty dress of yours, made these look oh so delectable,” his words only cut through the static in your head when his hands groped your breasts from behind. Your elbow then met his ribs only for his fist to come down on the back of your neck and force you to your knees.

“Little bitch thinks she can fight,” your captor growled, lifting your chin just to let his fist collide with your temple. Two more hits to the side of the face and you finally crumpled on the ground as he dusted off his pants and made for the door. “Leave her here. She can die with her beloved boys,” he commanded the other women, who scurried behind him as he sneered down at you before slamming and locking the door. 

At least, you could see where you were now as you started counting again.

The sky was dark, not a star in sight as the clouds covered them with their looming grayness. Coming up from the back of the compound, they split into three groups; Price with Johnny, Simon with Kyle, and the third team of specialists to extract Moses. It was quiet and they were silent as they took down the scattered guards. 

With the path cleared, Ghost and Kyle slipped into the darkness where intel told them the cells were. Price and Johnny disappeared into another building that could possibly be holding you, while the third team slipped out into the darkness in search of Moses. 

That’s when the first boom rocked the earth. “Bravo-6, do you copy?” Simon’s hushed whispers filled the silence of the cell they were standing in. “Soap, the hell was that?” Price’s voice cut through the static of their radios. “Detonation. He’s going to blow the compound with us in it.” 

Another boom rocked the ceiling and then the entrance to the cells collapsed with Simon and Kyle inside. Coms were suddenly cut as the building Price and Johnny were in shuddered with another boom. 

You felt it too and were suddenly very much aware that you needed to get up and try to get out. You tried the door, tugging on it but of course, it was locked. You started banging on it when the next boom came and you wondered how many buildings had been taken out already as the one you were in shuddered and a wall blew out next to you. Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you scurried out the hole the explosion created and headed for the stairs, taking two at a time. 

Price and Johnny were working through the levels, clearing the building as smatterings of people ran past them. Innocents. Civilians that Moses had kidnapped to fill the compound. All dressed in scratchy beige and black cargo. In your hurry to get out of the building, you ran smack into Price who grunted, staring down at the apparent civilian that had tried to plow through him. 

“Please don’t hurt me!” You cried, covering your face and cowering on the landing. But the pain never came. Just arms wrapping around you and lifting you to your feet. Fingers and a thumb pinched your chin, lifting your face to meet the man’s eyes you ran into. “They really did a number on you, little bird. Let’s get you home, yeah?” Price’s eyes burned into yours and you couldn’t help the sob that tore from you as you nodded in response. If you’d not literally run into him, you’d have been lost in the sea of civilians trying to find safety.

Getting back to the extraction point had been difficult. An explosion blasted apart a building the three of you were next to and unfortunately for you, you’d been in the path of a rather large piece of wall that knocked you out. When Price, Johnny, and your unconscious body met only Kyle at the extraction point, you were left in the care of Laswell who waited in the helicopter.

Meanwhile, Simon and Kyle were digging themselves out of the cells. The explosions that had followed the one that caved in the entrance had created a small hole big enough for Kyle to get through, but Simon, the massive man he was, wouldn’t fit without making it bigger. So Kyle dug from the outside and Simon from the inside. Finally, when it was big enough, Simon started to haul himself through the hole, only for another explosion to collapse it around him.

God, this is so not the story I'd intended to write, but this is where the muse led me.

Thank you to everyone who keeps supporting this series!

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.3. your last day with quinn

➴ warnings: mention of a restrictive diet, constipation.

➴ word count: 1.7k

➴ author’s note: this was supposed to be a cute, hurt/comfort chapter but. i listened to madison beer while writing this so things took a turn and now it’s just depressing. at least there’s still some hurt/comfort here :,)

౨ৎ

2017, SEPTEMBER.

YOU were having the worst day ever.

It was a Friday, and one of those days where anything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. First, you woke up at half-past five with a fever that made your entire body shiver. Your pajama was glued to your body, sticky with sweat. You sat on the bed, immediately regretting it because your head started spinning and suddenly you needed to throw up everything you’d eaten for dinner last night.

You felt like shit even when you managed to shower, sitting on your bathtub and letting the tears fall from your face. You felt so tired. It had already been a very stressful week, with your Mom forcing you to attend castings and auditions, making calls here and there so you could get the jobs she wanted for you, controlling everything you ate and drank.

On top of all of that, Peter and Quinn were leaving for college and you were sure you had never felt so alone before.

Quinn became your favorite person in the entire world when you both met four years ago. He was so important to you, and even though sometimes your heart didn’t understand what exact feelings you had for him, you needed him in your life.

The friendship you’d built over the past four years meant the world to you. How he took care of you, and how he tried to balance his career with still trying to be present in your life. How he would always ask about how you were doing in school, or about your dreams and wants. How he had introduced you to his family and how Jim and Ellen were nice to you, letting you come over to do your homework with Jack or Luke.

How sometimes you’d find Quinn practicing in their homemade ice rink, and you’d watch him for hours, impressed by his moves and skills. How sometimes you’d notice his hair falling out of the helmet, the sweat decorating his face and his blue, greenish eyes that would stare at nothing but the puck.

So when you found out he was leaving for Michigan? It hurt more than anything else, even if you were extremely happy for him.

You got out of the shower, feeling your body hurt everywhere. You were thankful that your classes didn’t start until next week and you didn’t have any auditions today so you could just jump right back in your bed.

Which was exactly what you did, sleeping like the dead after letting your tears fall for a bit more.

You woke up a few hours later, with a soft touch on your arm. Opening your eyes and immediately feeling them getting wet, you saw Quinn standing beside your bed.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said, smiling. “Maria let me in. You didn’t come say goodbye to me.”

Your sick, tired brain took a little while to process what he was saying. Until you looked at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table, reading 11:34 a.m., Friday, 6 September.

Fuck.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You were still shivering underneath the covers and your throat hurt.

“Maddie?” You could see he had stopped smiling.

You tried to smile, feeling the need to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I forgot to set an alarm,” you lied, trying to get up again and, thankfully, succeeding this time. “I’ll be downstairs in just a minute. Sorry.”

Getting up didn’t exactly mean success, since your legs failed after five steps and now you were on the floor, with your knee hurting like a bitch.

“Maddie, what,” Quinn said, quickly coming to your rescue, like he often did. You had a headache? Quinn had the right medicine for it. You hurt your finger? Quinn wrapped your hand with a bandage. You were hungry? Quinn was already in the kitchen making your meal. “What’s going on? Are you sick?”

“No, just— I just woke up.” You didn’t know why you kept lying to him and you felt like shit, but it was his leaving day. The Hughes were moving back to the US, so that Jack and Luke could join the NTDP in Michigan and Quinn could go to UMich. And it couldn’t get worse, not really. “I’m fine.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, Madison,” he hissed, angrily. You frowned. Quinn had never gotten angry at you, not even when you managed to ruin his hockey uniform with glitter. “You’re sick. Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, as he walked you to bed again. “I am fine, Quinn. It’s just constipation or whatever.”

“Stop acting like this is nothing, Madison.”

“Stop calling me that,” you frowned, annoyed for no real reason. You were going to miss them so much.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Why are you being so mean?” You whispered, feeling your eyes tearing up again, the fever making you shiver.

He stopped scowling for a second, softening his eyes at you. He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh, which you promptly grabbed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just— I hate when you act like what happens to you isn’t important.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling less cold now.

“You’re like my little sister, so watching you sick is just as upsetting as it is with Lukey or Jack,” he chuckled, laughing like he hadn’t just shattered your feelings right there.

You didn’t know exactly what you felt for him, but you knew for a fact it wasn’t that silly admiration you had for him when you were little. You were fifteen now, and just when you were supposed to crush on the boys at your school, you were always comparing them to Quinn instead. And Quinn is always better than them.

Not to mention that he’d been getting cuter. He was losing his teenager features and it didn’t help it with your little infatuation for him.

Hearing him confirming that you were nothing but a family member to him stung. This was definitely the worst day of your life.

“Right,” you whispered, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around your body. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go downstairs and say bye to you all. I’m sorry for that.”

“We’re only leaving at night so don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re feeling better until then.” He replied, getting up.

“Where are you going?” You asked, confusion taking over your face.

“I’m gonna ask Maria to make some soup for you while I go look for some cold medicine,” he put his hands inside his jeans pockets, something he did often, and smiled at you. “Do you think you’ll be fine here for ten minutes?”

You nodded, watching as he poked your cheek before leaving your room.

You laid down for a while, trying to organize your thoughts. You still didn’t understand what the Hughes leaving meant to you, only that you’d miss them like they were your own. Because for a while, that’s what they were.

You must have snoozed again because next thing you know, Quinn was shaking you lightly again. You opened your eyes, staring at him.

“Maria made you chicken noodle soup and I brought you juice and pills,” he pointed at the tray on your desk, smiling.

You got up, sitting up against the headboard, and thanking him as he placed the tray on your lap.

“Mom would probably kill me if she knew I’m eating noodles,” you joked, coughing loudly. Ugh.

“I won’t tell her a thing, promise,” he quickly said, sitting on the chair beside your desk, resting his hands on his knees, as he watched you eat. “Can’t believe we’re actually leaving.”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

“You will come to visit us, right?”

You placed your spoon inside your bowl again, staring at Quinn’s face, trying to memorize all of his features at once. His upper lip, slightly thinner than his bottom one. His wavy, brown hair, messy and untamed, so beautifully shaped. His eyes, darker than Luke and Jack’s, but still bright and vibrant. His nose, big and cute and your favorite feature on his face.

Oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“‘Course I will,” you mumbled, shoving the last spoonful of soup into your mouth. Lying to Quinn always felt wrong. “I’m… I’m gonna miss you,” His eyes softened, and before he could speak, you continued. “You made my life so much easier. You and your family are so important to me so thank you.” You felt your eyes watering, and you looked up. No crying in front of anyone.

“Oh, Maddie,” he got up, removing the tray from your lap and putting it back on your desk, so he could sit beside you. “There’s no need for tears.”

You tried to give him a reassuring smile and tell him you’re okay but you only managed to let more tears fall from your eyes.

He placed your head on his shoulder, pulling the blanket until it reached your chin, covering you completely. Then, he gently grabbed your hand underneath and held it tightly.

“I’ll be only an one hour flight away, Maddie. Our house is your house too.”

You sniffled, feeling your body starting to hurt again.

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want him to leave, that you needed him in your life and that you loved him. A young, unripe love that made your chest hurt every time you thought about it.

But you knew that you were just being selfish. Ever since you met him, you knew Hockey was his life. It is his favorite thing in the world, and it means a lot to them.

So you would never tell him anything. No. At least one of you deserved to be happy.

“I know,” you mumbled. “Can I take a nap?”

He chuckled beside you. “Yeah, ‘course. Not before you take your medicine though.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the rest of your face under the cover, hearing Quinn’s soft laugh.

Little did you know you’d keep that sound safe and secure in your heart, for the rest of your life.

[writeforfandoms]

Fast Car 3

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

The end of the last planned fic for the zombie au! Not to say I will never write more, because who knows...

You start to find a new normal in this town. It's... different. But in a good way.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, these two are bad at communicating, bit of one upsmanship in terms of flirting, feels.

Word count: 1k

Over the next week, you explored the entire town. Word spread fast that you were a mechanic, which had people asking you about all kinds of things. 

You really weren't sure how exactly how a clock worked, but you tried fixing it anyway. 

It worked well enough. That seemed to earn you a reputation, one you'd be happy to run with. 

Except Ghost followed you. Every. Single. Place. You went. He followed you into town every day, a silent shadow stalking you relentlessly. He never said a word to you, didn't even try to be friendly. 

By the third day of this treatment, you weren't sure if you hated Ghost… or wanted to jump him out of sheer frustrated attraction. 

The feeling did not lessen with time. Which left you glowering at Ghost every time you spotted him lurking about, even as you ignored any pooling heat between your legs. 

Look. He was an ass, but he was a good looking one. Big, strong, clearly able and not afraid to throw his weight around. 

And if that was it, you probably would have been able to ignore your attraction to him. There were other good-looking single people in town after all, you could have found someone else to pursue. 

Except he was kind, in small ways. A group of three children swarmed him, clearly used to him and not at all afraid. He took turns picking up the kids and dangling them by their ankles, much to the kids delight. 

You watched all of this from a garage, working on breaking down an engine to pull fluids for the truck. 

The second Ghost looked over at you, you lifted one oil-streaked hand to wiggle your fingers at him. Mostly because you liked poking the metaphorical bear. You refused to be afraid of him. 

(And it was easier to poke fun at him than it was to face your growing attraction to him.) 

He just looked back to the kids, saying something to them before leading them away. Back towards town, probably. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't trust you around kids. He didn't even seem to trust you around inanimate objects.

You scowled. Damn. Well, guess you weren't allowed to get distracted anymore. 

But you thought about how gentle he could be. Too often for your sanity. 

You blamed the zombies. 

Now if only he'd be less of a jerk… you'd be in real trouble. 

It wasn't long until you were elbow deep in the truck again, alternately whistling and swearing as you worked, oil on your hands and sweat on your face. You surfaced to grab a rag, sort of cleaning your hands so you could get a drink. Gaz's girlfriend was too nice to create extra work for, so you were careful not to dirty the glass, grabbing it with the rag.

Ghost emerged from the house, wearing just a t-shirt and carrying an axe. You paused in your work to watch him, curious. 

You were not prepared for him to set up within easy viewing distance, splitting logs for firewood. 

You nearly spilled your water. 

Fucking hell. That was just not fair! 

You looked down at yourself, considering. You weren't done working yet. You'd have to bathe later anyway. 

Might as well make a show of it. 

It only took a moment to peel off your outer layer, tossing it aside and leaving you in a sleeveless bottom layer. One sneaky look confirmed that Ghost was still working, setting up the next log to chop. So you got back to work, too. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and you pulled yourself away from the truck, surprised to see it had gotten darker. Clouds covered the sky, the temperature dropping quickly. 

You swore, more colorfully this time, and grabbed your things quickly. You needed to run back to town, to get inside before it started pouring. 

You closed up the car at light speed, aware the car had a garage and would be fine. You didn't even bother to dress properly, just ran for the path towards town. 

You hadn't made it far when a shout of your name made you pause. You half-turned to look back, finding Ghost approaching rapidly. 

“What?” You asked, a little irritable, glancing up at the sky almost nervously. It hadn't opened up yet, and mentally you begged the rain to hold off just a little longer. 

“Faster to come inside,” Ghost offered, stopping in front of you. Closer than he normally stood. Close enough that you could see he was still breathing a little hard with exertion. 

“I'll make it home,” you said, not at all sure of that fact. 

“Come inside.” This time, it sounded more like an order. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No.” 

Ghost sighed hard through his nose, muttering something that sounded like “stubborn”. “Please.” It was the single driest, least plea-like word you'd ever heard in your entire life. 

“I'll just go home.” 

The sky chose that moment to ignore your own, much more sincere, pleas. The first fat raindrop landed on your nose, and then the torrential downpour started. Everything got drenched within seconds, you included. 

“Just come inside,” Ghost growled, one hand out between the two of you, though he didn't touch you. 

“Why?” You hadn't meant to say that, but you didn't retract it either. You lifted your chin, blinking rapidly against the onslaught of rain. 

Ghost didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he grabbed you, hand fitting perfectly to your waist, pulling you close until he could kiss you. 

Everything around you ceased to exist. The rain didn't matter, the chill seeping into your skin didn't matter. Nothing but the feel of his lips against yours, the little chafe of his stubble against your skin. 

You opened your eyes slowly to find him close, the brown of his eyes dark in the rain. He didn't say anything else, letting his actions speak for him. 

“Okay,” you agreed, a little fuzzy, running hot despite the cold. “But I'm calling the shots.” 

That was the first time you ever saw him smile at you.

[darnell-la]

Hii, I was wondering if you wrote for Scott Summers? <3

note: here is a little smut for Scott Summers. We’ve never written about this character, but we will start. We’ve had a few requests about him. They will be answered soon!

———

“It’s been a long day!” Scott said in the shower as y/n entered his room, already dressed in her nightgown. They used to occasionally lay together until a week ago when they finally did it. Ever since he’s asked her to stay with him.

“I know, with you and your friend Logan,” y/n snickered as Scott groaned loudly and shut off the shower to get out and dry himself off.

“That son of a bitch. Can’t work without him askin’ about me and you. Did you know he could smell us? Fuckin’ perv,” Scott shook his head, sounding upset but in actuality, he liked the thought of people or someone knowing you were with him.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” y/n said as she got under the covers. She’s had a long day as well, but she knew it wasn’t as bad as Scott’s. Dealing with Logan isn’t something everyone wants to do.

“Could go for a snack,” Scott yawned as he made his way out of his bathroom. “I’m already tucked in,” y/n said as she turned around to face Scott and god, he looked amazing. He always did.

“C’mon, babe — I’m hungry,” the man said, still not looking at the young lady as he dried his hair. “I’m sure,” y/n scanned the man’s body. The man was lean, and his v-line pocked out hard.

“Fine,” the man sighed as he threw the towel away and finally looked at y/n. Seeing her lost at the view of his wet body, made him smirk.

“I-I’m just tired,” y/n shook herself out of her thoughts as she tucked herself deeper into his covers. “Is that so?” The man said as he walked towards the bed, watching her chest rise.

“Yes, now, come on,” y/n said, avoiding eye contact as he crawled on the bed. She thought he’d lie next to her, but instead, the man hovered over her, looking right into her shy eyes.

“Maybe I already have a snack right here,” Scott spoke low, body leaning down and going under the covers. “Scott, I- Not right now,” y/n said, hands running through his hair, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was an eater. He couldn’t hoop himself.

“Ssh,” was all he said as he spread this hits thighs, taking a nice look at the wet patch she had. She was always wet, and he was always ready.

“I know you just showered, but fuck, y/n — How do you get this soaked?” Scott teased with a laugh as he hooked onto y/n’s panties and pulled them to the side, revealing her pimpled lips.

“D-Don’t know,” y/n awkwardly laughed, trying to stay calm, but when Scott was this close to her, it was hard. “Of course, you don’t, baby,”

Scott had wasted no time sucking onto y/n’s cunt, taking her folds in his mouth before French kissed her bud.

“F-Fuck, Scott,” y/n grabbed the sheets as her feet curled. “Mhm hm?” He hummed into her heat, sending a shock throughout her body.

“Shit, I- Oh my god,” she tried taking deep breaths, but the way he slobbered all over her cunt, made it hard to keep quiet.

Was this what Logan was talking about? Could he smell the sex? Does everyone know about her and Scott?

Y/n felt a small panic, but that soon turned into lust. The thought of people knowing Scott claimed her made her feel something she’d never felt before.

“G-Gonna- Gonna-“ y/n tried saying as her body locked up, and her skin felt numb. A harsh orgasm was pulled from her. She came all over Scott’s face, making him lick at her to get it all out and into his mouth. He loved her taste. She tastes amazing.

[wornouteggman]

X-Men go to Disneyland for the First Time

first post! tag along for more delusions, asks are always open -alex

Cyclops

not just the group dad or the paranoid leader but a secret, third, worse thing

this guy has a stomachache the whole day you can't convince me otherwise

has carrots in his backpack?! and trail mix?!

yeah laugh it up until you're standing in a disney line for 45 minutes and you start getting peckish- oh nowww you want to appreciate him

please do not put him on that stupid Pinocchio boat ride he will puke

gave everyone a map at the beginning of the day and is exceptionally stressed that he's the only one with one at the end of the day

Jean

half of her job is making sure Scott doesn't walk into a pole and the other half is making sure no one gets lost

SHE MAKES SURE EVERYONE HAS A "it's my first time" PIN

all the people around her is overwhelming- not just in a powers way but in a general sensory overload way

likes the classic stuff, loves the snow white ride

she's not too invested in things like disney but she likes doing the touristy stuff upfront (they're popular for a reason right?) which is why she's the first to buy a set of mickey(minnie?) ears

her favorite part of the day is watching the fireworks with Scott, letting herself get almost misty-eyed as she listens to the swell of music, Scott's arms wrapped around her securely

Storm

certified churro enjoyer

weirdly enough loves the dumbo ride?

"Ororo. You can literally fly why do we have to go on th-" "Party of six please"

get her ass away from star tours, she will have a panic attack

the one who pulls up games to play during wait times. she is comically bad at charades

likes the parade!! makes sure to have nice seats on the sidewalk to watch it happen!

a part of her inner child is healed going around disney enjoying the day with her weird mutant family

Rogue

she does a little dance in her seat at the end of the haunted mansion ride with all the partying ghosts (she gets excited to see which ghost is hitchhiking with her) (she loudly whispers the entire intro to the haunted mansion word for word to gambit every time they go on it

her and jean are the only ones to get mickey ears, Rogue going for one of the dessert-related ones (I'm going to project a little bit and say she gets the churro ears)

takes photos with every single character she sees

silly photos with gambit in front of the disney castle

incredibly cranky when it comes to long lines!! her and scott teaming up and eating trail mix from his bag from boredom (Scott picks out the m&ms and gives them to her while he eats all the nuts and granola)

Gambit

HIS FAVORITE RIDE IS INDIANA JONES IDCIDC

okay him and Rogue would have way more fun in california adventure but I fucked myself over and wrote Disneyland so now I have to suffer the consequences of my actions

he's sooo pretentious about the quality of the beignets

competitive teacup ride, him and rogue are teacup spinners

he really likes Batuu and the star wars stuff in general, I can see him liking the ronto wraps

HATES the millennium falcon ride if he's not the pilot. will skulk.

#stealfromcorporations

a little sizeable pang of homesickness in the chest as he walks through the New Orleans Square, which is specifically modelled after the french quarter

Logan

free him from this hell

"oh but he secretly enjoys-" no he doesn't.

barely made it past security, as the... you know... adamantium fused to his bones make the sensors go off

jean steps in and says he's got several joint replacements. it's humiliating (for him)

I get the vibe that he's scared of the peter pan ride when you're in the ship "flying"

bristles like a cat tbh

once he's sat at the hungry bear restaurant chowing down on a burger he calms down a little

complains about the california heat incessantly

would rather die than admit that a part of him looks at the families on the carousel and gets deeply sad❗️

[firehose118]

“We’re just helping each other out on a long shift. It’s not gay,” Sal says into the air of the empty station bathroom as he wraps a hand around Tommy’s dick, and then in the same breath, “No one can ever know.”

Tommy nods, too far gone in the fantasy-come-to-life of what’s happening to dwell on the irony there. He’ll pick that apart later. For now, he has what he’s craved for so long within his grasp, he just has to reach out and take it.

He gets his hand on Sal’s dick in return and revels in the way it twitches under his touch. Tommy wants to moan with how good it feels to touch another man like this, to be touched by one. But he has to pretend this is friend stuff—normal straight guy shit, not the stuff of waking wet dreams—or else it will be taken away from him.

{finish on ao3 or continue below}

Tommy tries to match Sal’s pace: hard, fast, efficient. He thumbs through the liquid gathering at the head, twists his hand on the upstroke, but doesn’t let himself linger—even as his body is screaming for him to slow down and savor it. This might be his first and last chance to have this.

The way Sal is looking right at him is unexpected. He’d thought Sal would look away, pick a tile on the wall and stare at it, pretend this isn’t happening, but no: Sal is in it, studying Tommy’s face in that passive slack-jawed way of his. Tommy keeps his expression carefully neutral but he’s worried even that will give him away.

Sal’s mouth drops open on a silent moan when Tommy’s thumb drags along the vein on the underside just right, so Tommy does it again harder. He wants Sal to like this. He wants Sal to want to do this again.

Tommy is losing focus quickly. Sal isn’t working as hard to impress him, isn’t pulling out different moves to see what he likes, but his hand is big and warm and calloused and masculine around Tommy’s dick and it really doesn’t need to do anything else to have him panting and leaking.

He’s thought about this so many times and the reality of it is even better than he could have imagined. Every bit of energy he’s not using to give Sal the handjob of his life he’s putting into not whining and humping Sal’s hand like a dog.

He takes half a step forward before he can stop himself; needing to be closer. Sal huffs but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t step back.

They’re so close to each other now that Tommy could wrap his hand around both of their dicks and jerk them off like that. He knows it would feel good, wants it more than anything in this moment, but it would be a definitive step over the ‘not gay’ line into territory he’s not sure Sal will follow him willingly. It’s this or nothing, so Tommy chooses this.

“You close?” Tommy asks. He is. He can already feel it rising in his stomach, his balls, licking along his spine. He wants Sal to come first, to hide whatever his own orgasm is going to look like in the mists of Sal’s pleasure.

Sal nods. His face is inches away from Tommy’s and he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

When it happens, Tommy feels it. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect to—he always feels the pulsing of his own dick as he comes—but to feel another man’s dick twitch and spasm as it shoots warm into his hand has Tommy biting back a moan so quickly he chokes on it.

Sal comes with a low groan and Tommy is helpless to follow. For as long as he’s wanted this—wanted Sal—he thinks he could’ve come from that sound alone, but the way Sal’s big hand tightens on the next few strokes is the last thing he needs to send him hurtling over the edge.

Tommy’s forehead drops to Sal’s shoulder without permission and he keens high in his throat as the pleasure rips through him. It’s easily the best orgasm he’s had in years and he’s instantly terrified of what that means.

He shoves it down. Later. He’ll think about that later.

Tommy pants, coming back to himself, and he gives himself two more seconds of physical contact with Sal before he pulls back completely.

They both lean against the hard tile wall of the bathroom and catch their breaths.

“Good?” Tommy asks, giving a joking half-smile. He knows the answer but it seems like a safe enough way to start talking again.

“Jesus, kid,” Sal laughs. “Yeah. It was good. Where the fuck’d you learn how to do that?”

He grabs some paper towels to wipe his hand off, then gives them to Tommy to do the same.

“Lonely childhood,” Tommy says. It’s true but it’s not the answer. “Dad had a lot of porn mags he’d leave around. I spent a lot of time jerking off. Figured yours doesn’t work too differently from mine.”

That look is back in Sal’s eyes like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet again. He just shakes his head and laughs.

Sal walks towards the door but stops before he opens it. “Give it a few,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Tommy but he has a small smile on his lips still. Tommy takes that as a win.

Sal leaves and Tommy is left alone with the enormity of what just happened. It was good. It was hot. Sal clearly doesn’t hate him, isn’t disgusted by him. He seemed almost… intrigued.

Tommy will sort out the shame and elation he feels swirling inside of himself like oil and water later.

For now, he washes his hands, splashes some water on his face, and gets back to work.

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[spacedlexi]

wow i forgot just how Atrocious the quality was for my twdg stream 💀 guess im just gonna Have to do another one

[aibouart]

compilation of my other fav palette challenges from the years past... i should do them again sometime......

chara #9 belongs to @askbookwormflareon

[vanyafresita]

happy pride !! here's a digital zine i made to compile short letters i wrote to some of the queer people in my life i hold close to my heart <3