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#so so many kind words y'all are wonderful!
artemisyates · 1 year
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Edward Hyde, Victorian gremlin man, I love you so. ♥ This ended up looking a bit like concept art for an animated movie art style wise, and that just makes me sad there isn't a cutesy animated classic disney musical type Jekyll and Hyde movie because that would be amazing.
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shaguro · 5 months
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— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.
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✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.
✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.
✧word count: 1.6k.
✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.
“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”
“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”
now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.
and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.
“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”
this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.
it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.
in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.
“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”
connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”
the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.
you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.
“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”
his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.
“how much time do we have left, pretty?”
you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”
connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”
all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.
“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.
your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.
and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.
not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.
“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“
“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.
“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”
your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.
“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”
“c-connie, you—“
“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”
you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”
connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.
“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.
“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”
it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.
instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.
“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”
he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,
“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.
only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.
there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.
“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”
but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."
tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.
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the hoe house: @rintcrous @90ekz @honeybleed @nysrage @vixensajntz @hyunip @zuriayan @tishlvr @black-yn @loccka6 @chile-im-embarrassed @dxddykenn @sheluvzeren @viisgrave @xocherishxo @vipprincessblog @prettypixigrl @sugxrbxbyqueen @fuyuswifey @iikatsukii @pinkprintzz @astrokatsuki @qupidology @smolchubbygoddess @juicepouchhh @saraiitrue | @bleach-your-panties @chrollohearttags @ramonathinks @blkwriters @ichigosluvrr
join the house here. ♡
@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.
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luvvixu · 25 days
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mind over matter pt. 1
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)
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previous / masterlist / next
it all started when he started caring for you.
after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.
to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.
from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.
you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.
your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.
nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.
as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.
there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.
there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!
although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.
his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.
that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.
scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.
your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.
satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.
"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.
"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.
"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.
"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.
"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.
"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.
"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.
splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.
"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.
"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.
your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.
"how many months?"
"two."
"and you didn't tell me?"
"do you want to know?"
"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.
you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?
"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."
"y/n, wait—"
*slam*
before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.
satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?
what if—
no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?
everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.
satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.
"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.
"o…okay, thanks."
minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.
"where's your meal?"
"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.
for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.
while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.
the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.
the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.
like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.
anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.
"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.
"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.
"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.
"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.
the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.
also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.
"d…does that mean—"
"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.
"when will i be moving out?"
satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.
"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.
"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.
satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.
"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.
yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.
fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.
currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.
suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.
"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.
"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.
"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.
"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.
when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.
"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.
there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.
megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.
stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."
"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.
the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.
"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.
if only they knew that your experience was much harder.
"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.
"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.
another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.
"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.
"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.
shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.
"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.
"we were just fine like i have said before."
your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"
"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.
you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.
however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.
once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.
gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.
"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.
"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.
you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.
"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"
*slam!*
"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.
"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.
"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.
"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.
before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.
"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.
"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.
"ho…how's the child doing?"
"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.
"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.
fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.
"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.
the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."
"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.
"but i sure know how shitty you are."
something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"
"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”
“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”
how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.
both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”
the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.
“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”
satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”
and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.
along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.
“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.
satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.
his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.
“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.
meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.
“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.
but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.
“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?
you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.
“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.
“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”
“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.
“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.
wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.
either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.
meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.
“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.
“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.
“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.
as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.
for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.
maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.
it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.
you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.
because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.
[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]
828 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 4 months
Text
3:00 special.
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3.5k words, slasher!Joel x f!reader | Slasher Joel SUMMARY: One shot - Joel entertains himself while you sleep, then makes good on his promise to ruin you in the morning. Title from his playlist, # 1. WARNINGS: I8+ dubious consent p in v sex, degradation, toy, vag fisting, dark humor, dark character, slasher typical regard for realism. creator chooses not to warn further detail but happy to answer Qs. hope my editing isn't too bad. A/N: Thank you so much everyone for the comments, mood boards, asks. Y'all make this AU fun to write and interactive. @toxicfics for notifs (how to see notifs all in one place) @toxicrecs for recs. dividers by @gasolinerainbowpuddles.
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It's well after midnight. Joel is normally awake and on call at this hour. In fact, he’s on call right now, but he couldn't tell you where his phone is. You’re asleep under his arm, and he’s not tired enough to drift off. He shuts his eyes and thinks about what he wants to do to you. 
Cockslut like you has gotta have toys lyin’ around. Prolly can’t go 12 hours without gettin’ your gash stuffed. 
He cautiously lifts his arm off your back, slides out of bed, and tiptoes over to the window to get a little more moonlight in there. Then, he goes to your nightstand. You sigh in your sleep. 
He opens the drawer and rolls his eyes in disappointment when there’s only one satin bag. Just a vibrator. Then he sees the corner of a dark, suede box sticking out from under your bed. Jackpot. You’re sleeping face down, and your arm is dangling off the bed, fingers nearly grazing the corner of the box. He manages to pull it out from under the bed without disturbing you. There’s another one behind it, too. 
He sits on his knees and opens the box. Oh yeah. You’ve got all sorts of dildos, dongs, rabbits, there’s like six cocks in this box. There’s lube, a strap, suction cups. So many possibilities, he can’t think straight. God damn. 
He picks up the biggest dick. He wraps his hand around it. Aren’t these things supposed to be bigger than real ones? Especially for a size queen like you. You must be using more than one at a time. He imagines you smashing two of them together and sitting on them, letting out a slutty moan as you sink down. 
He’s hard as a rock. Your phone lights up on the nightstand, and he looks at it. It’s 2:33 and there’s a pop-up notification. It has a flame logo with the text,  “Darren and 18 others are waiting for your response.” What the fuck is this? 
He unplugs the phone and tries to open the notification, but it’s locked. He eyes your hand, still dangling off the bed, and carefully presses the screen against your thumb to unlock it. He has some trouble finding the notification again. He’ll figure it out, but first he’s got to do something about this brick in his boxers. 
You’re snoring lightly now, covered by only a light sheet. You’re out cold. Probably out whoring every night this week, and now you’re finally catching up on sleep. 
His stomach growls.  
He sits up on his knees, facing your bed. You’re still on your stomach, and the knee closest to him is bent. Practically spread eagle, no surprise there. He pinches the sheet and slowly pulls it down until everything above your knees is exposed. 
His balls twitch at the sight of your glistening wound. God damn, look at you leaking. 
There’s a trail of cum and two dark spots on the sheet under you. Wonder how many loads you’ve got on this bed. Mattress must look worse than his. His cock bounces and rubs it with his wrist. He growls, looking at your snatch. 
Yeah he’s gonna ruin you in the morning, or as soon as he’s done figuring out what kind of whoring you’re up to. He didn’t imagine the professional kind. You seemed more like an amateur. 
But you’ve got 18 dicks waiting for you in this thing. He looks at your phone. 
Joel opens the camera app and carefully lines up a shot between your legs. Then he takes a picture. SHIT, it flashes. 
You whine in your sleep but don’t wake up. He looks at the picture. It’s a good shot, really good. He turns the flash off. 
You probably won’t even wake up if he touches you. So used to having hands and dicks and tongues all around this sloppy cunt. He stands up and makes an upside-down v-shape with his fingers and uses them to spread you even wider. You twitch and a little drop of cum rolls out, making him moan softly. He takes another picture. 
-
He goes out to your living room carrying a bottle of lube and your phone. There’s a massive tent bobbing in his tight boxers. He settles in on the sofa and takes out his cock and balls. His stomach growls again and he lazily rubs his belly. Guess mama was right, he should’ve ate more. 
He lubes up his dick, then looks at the picture on your phone. Your app offers to auto-correct the last one, and he can see much better after saying yes. 
Good lord. 
He has half a mind to fuck you right now, but instead he wraps his hand around his cock. 
He strokes himself, imagining those toys stuffing your slutty hole. What a sloppy mess you’d be, all fucked out and stretched from taking as many dicks as you could. He looks at the first picture, with the flash: an HD photo of the aftermath of his cock. You’re really something else. He’s never seen anyone take a dick like you. He switches between the pictures and groans at the sight of you spread wide open by his fingers. His hand makes you look smaller than you are. He could probably park his truck in there. 
Fuck. 
He strokes himself faster. 
Another notification with a flame pops up. You have a new match! 
Still jerking himself, he follows the notification and it opens your app.
“Alright, sex kitten,” he mutters under his breath. 
A message badge at the bottom of the screen shows you have 21 new. God damn, you love cock. He fucks his fist, hips slightly flexing. “Ohh,” he moans and closes his eyes thinking about you browsing for dick, vag drooling. But none of them can stuff you and stretch you the way he does. He pulls his shirt up and sighs as he cums into his fist and on his belly. 
He wipes his hand off on his shirt, leaving the cum smeared there, then wipes it again on his boxers before lying down on the sofa and using your phone with both hands. 
It's this easy? He knew you were this easy. Let's see what these other guys are packing. 
Joel opens a message from Marcus. Marcus says, “Hey, I saw you like coffee. Wanna grab a cup at the Bean Bar this week?” Joel clicks on the guy’s profile. He’s into traveling and books. No dick pics, not even an outline. What a fuckin’ loser. Joel deletes the match and returns to your list of guys. He sees a thumbnail of a guy with lips parted and his shoulders are bare. He opens that one. 
Benny. “Damn look at you,” Benny said. “Wanna get at this?” There’s a picture of him grabbing a bulge in his gym shorts. He’s got a green dot by his name. 
Joel thinks to himself, then types to Benny, “Yeah I love cock,” and sends it with a woosh.
He goes to look at Benny’s profile, and he’s a boxer. Most of his pics are shirtless. Lots of pics with slutty sweatpants. He looks like a dumbass, but at least he's smart enough to know what you’re looking for. The question is, does he have it. 
Benny replies. “Fuck yeah, got plenty for ya.”
“Hm,” Joel doubts to himself, then types, “Show me.” 
Benny replies, “Damn, most chicks don’t want the full monty.” 
Joel squints in frustration. Is Benny dense? 
“I SAID I LOVE COCK,” Joel replies on your behalf. 
“Lmao I like it. I show you mine, you show me yours 😉,” Benny responds. 
“No problem,” Joel sends.
Before he does anything else, Joel thinks to text himself those two pics. Mama’s right, he’s smart. He’s got her wits. His stomach growls again. 
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You wake up in the middle of the night and hear something. As you blink awake, a flickering blue light is coming from down the hall. You put on a long t-shirt and rub your eyes on your way to the living room. You begin to faintly hear the shamwow infomercial as the silhouette of Joel Miller’s hair comes into view.  He’s sitting on your sofa watching tv. He bends forward and puts something on your coffee table.  Then, as he settles back into the sofa, he does an exaggerated yawn and stretches his arms over the back of the couch. You look at the clock. It’s 3:45 AM. 
You pad into the living room and observe him manspreading on the couch.
“Hey sleepyhead,” he yawns as you sit down next to him on the sofa, taking in the scene. He’s in boxers and a navy shirt that’s ridden up exposing a couple of inches of belly. There are darker blotches on the shirt. 
“What are you doing out here?” you ask, voice hoarse with sleep. A better question would be, why are you still in my house?
“Couldn’t sleep. Got hungry. Want some casserole?” He sighs with the effort as he bends forward to get the Tupperware and fork for you. 
“Where’d that come from?” you ask. 
“Mama made it. Spaghetti casserole. Really good, you should try it.” He practically shoves it into your face. 
You pick up the fork and take a bite. 
“Mmm,” you hum in genuine enjoyment. “Wow, this is good.” 
“Yeah,” he agrees with brightened eyes. “Ya know, you could come for dinner sometime. She’d love to have ya.” He mentions it casually, but there’s a glimmer of hope behind his eyes. 
You know better than to laugh in his face, but you don’t exactly accept the invitation either. “Really?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” Joel nods as you take another bite. “More where that came from.”  You contemplate as you chew and he cradles his balls through his boxers. You finish your bite and put the casserole and fork down. He finishes a beer. 
“Sure,” you nod, then get up to go back to bed. 
“Where ya goin’?” He asks.
“Gotta work in a few hours.”
His face darkens, but he stays where he is.
“This whorefire app’s pretty cool,” Joel calls after you. What is he talking about? 
You turn around and he’s standing up. He stretches with his arms wide, and his boxers are low enough to show his pubic hair and whiter skin, giving you a little rush of arousal. Your eyes pan over his body and you don’t even notice the phone in his hand. He tosses it onto the sofa. 
He takes slow steps and you stand still. Soon he’s in arm’s reach and lowers his voice. “Get over here, kitten.”
He walks into you, then reaches around to grab your ass. He slides a palm down over your crack until his middle finger meets your slick. 
“Mmm,” he growls.”I’ll tuck ya in.” 
He smacks your ass with a low,“Ooh!” then walks into your bedroom. 
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You’re throbbing at the thought of having him again, but you find yourself muttering, “Said I had to sleep,” as you get back in bed. You slip your feet under the sheets. 
He doesn’t waste any time before getting on top of you. “Spread’em, sweetheart.” He knees your legs apart and shoves his hand between your legs. He locks eyes with you as he rubs your most sensitive place. “Fuck,” he growls, then sits up on his knees. He holds the thick shape of his cock through his boxers and with his other hand, nudges your entrance, then easily slips a finger inside. When he adds a second, you whimper. 
“I’m comin’,” he grumbles to your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and clumsily takes them off before settling back between your legs with his heavy cock looming, making you gush. He braces a hand on the bed, to the side of your hips. You’re ready, so ready for it. Your body is making space for him. You feel yourself opening up. But he gives you his fingers again. He slides in one, then two with ease, stacked vertically. It’s not enough, especially without any attention to your front. 
“Look at this messy mouth, droolin’ all over, swallowin’ whatever I give it.”  He adds a third finger, also stacked vertically. He thrusts them a few times, gazing at you in a trance, then rotates his hand palm up, with three thick fingers spreading you wide. He leans forward so his palm covers your clit, thank god, as he fucks you with three fingers. 
He lowers his voice and reveals, “I know ya don’t gotta work. Found your paystub in your car, whoops.” He spreads his fingers and inhales a deep, hungry breath as his fingers continue filling you. “‘S’okay. Just be good for me.” 
“I’m always good,” you breathe, hips lifting into his hand. 
He chuckles darkly. “Always good. Almost cut my dick off one time,” he reminds you. 
“You tried to kill me–ohhh,” He curls his fingers and digs his palm down on your front. 
His face darkens, and his fingers pause all the way inside you. “Sweetheart, if I tried, ya wouldn’t be here.” 
He shoots you a glare that makes the back of your neck go cold with sweat as his fingers slide out. 
He shoves his cock in with a grunt that turns into a sigh as his girth spreads you open. With his eyes still dark, he withdraws half his length, then slams into you hard, “Mmmnngh,”  with his jaw clenched. He releases his breath and sighs vocally, fully sheathed in your warmth. 
His hips begin to move. “Gonna take this when I say, how I say,” he breathes, then grits his teeth as he slams into you again. 
It’s like having a soda can between your legs, and your body welcomes it. 
“Fuck you're tight. ‘Specially compared to earlier.” 
Joel looks down where your bodies are joined and watches his big dick disappear between your legs. “Take it like a fuckin’ pro.” He buries his length in your dripping hole, you're getting wetter by the minute. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He slams into you hard and you brace your hand on the headboard. 
“Fuck,” you whisper and raise your knees, spreading your legs wider. 
“Good kitten,” he says. 
He rails into you one more time and bottoms out. He reaches over to the other side of the bed near the headboard, and slides his hand under a pillow, retrieving a dong. 
He holds it by the base and wobbles it in the air. 
His cock slides out of you, arousal dripping everywhere onto the sheet. 
He holds the dong up to his hard cock. “Think you’ve graduated.” 
He begins to line the toy up with your entrance.
“Supposed to use lube with that,” you protest. 
“Sweetheart,” he laughs, then grumbles, “You should see the mess between your legs.” He wets his lips as he stares at your cunt. Arousal rolls down his cock, over his huge sack.  “Still drippin’ off me, damn.” 
He cups his balls and grunts “Mmm,” before returning to the task. 
He lightly taps your pussy a few times, listening to the wet smacking sound. “You’re good,” he chuckles. He wipes off his hand on the head of the dong.
His brows furrow. He uses his thumb and finger to spread you wide, then begins to push the toy into you. “Nothin’ this greedy pussy can’t do.” It doesn’t feel nearly as good as he does. 
He thrusts the dong in and out of you a few times then pauses with it mostly withdrawn. He presses the toy against one of your walls, and slides in one finger, then two alongside the toy. 
You spread your legs wide so he can get even closer. He lines up his stiff cock flat against the side of the dildo and uses his fingers to help wedge the tip of his cock in. The stretch burns until he pushes a little more and you swallow nearly his whole tip. 
He pushes a bit more and you groan. 
“You can do it, baby.” He thumbs your clit, helping you open up more. His tan tummy swells with his flexing abs and he begins to push again. He presses his hips forward and his cock slides all the way into you along with the dong. 
“God damn,” he breathes. “Wish you could see this—unngggh,” He pulls back, holding the toy steady, watching your pussy cling to him, the thin membrane stretched wide, begging him back. “Fuck, you can take a cock.” 
Your insides swell with arousal. It's an incredibly full feeling, but it also makes you throb how he loves to watch you take as much as you can, and he's always got more to give, somehow. 
“Shoulda used the strap,” he mumbles. 
He thrusts and pushes the toy another time, then says “Fuck it.”
He slides out of you, and your cunt feels cold on the outside and inside. 
“Oh, fuck,” Joel murmurs and strokes himself. “Baby you're gapin’.” He wedges three fingers together and slides them face up into you with such ease it makes your face burn. “Well,” he chuckles. “Damn.” He slides them almost all the way out and adds his pinky. Again they slide in you without much resistance after taking two cocks side by side. 
“God damn, sweetheart,” Joel marvels. He slides the four wide digits as far in as they’ll go, then starts fucking you with his hand, thumb on your clit. Your body feels hollow with butterflies and all you can do is moan. 
He clamps his hand down to grind the heel of his palm on your clit with four fingers all the way inside you and you groan, so close to the edge. Clit pounding.
“Come on, baby. Squeeze me and I'll give ya one more.” 
You’d thought about it so many times since that once. The thought of his fist trips you right over the edge, the blood that was swelling your core exploding outward as waves of pleasure consume you. 
“Attagirl,” he mutters with your pelvis lifting into his hand. “Fuck, that's hot.” He watches you clench around his hand, more arousal gathering on his fingers . 
The tip of his cock is leaking now, but his attention is all on you. As you come down from your high, he says, “relax for me,” which you already are. He spits on his thumb, then slides his fingers out just enough to wedge his thumb in. 
Your skin is hot from your climax. He begins to push in. “Fuck,” he mutters as he slides his hand in. “Only see this in porn,” he mumbles, sliding his hand in and out gently.  The thought of him jacking off watching someone get fisted makes you twitch. “You’d be a star ya know.” Your skin gets hotter at the comment. His hand flexes inside you, then he slides it back out toward your entrance. His hand comes out, literally dripping. 
He eyes your gaping cunt and says, “you should see this.” 
He thumbs your clit with his dryer hand as he runs the knuckles of his wet fist through your folds. Then begins to nudge your stretched out hole. You widen your hips even more and he begins to nudge inside, wiggling his fist gently as your greedy cunt consumes it. It gets easier as he pushes deeper. “Oh, God,” he pants, wrist deep inside you. “Fuck, I gotta be back in there.” 
He slides his fist out, braces a hand on the bed, and shoves himself into you all at once. It’s not a stretch at all. Your body is barely starting to gather itself back together, loosely hugging his cock. 
He asks, “Want more, huh?”
You nod, face burning. 
“This fat cock ain't doin’ it?” He fucks you loose and sloppy. “Ever seen a fatter one?” You shake your head no, and it's true. “Fattest cock ya’ever seen can't fill ya up.” 
“Not now,” you mutter and grab the toy. You wrap your lips around it, tasting yourself as you wet it with slobber. 
“Cause I ruined ya,” Joel nods. “Wrecked this greedy gash. Ohh baby, look at ya suck that cock.”
You take the toy out of your mouth with a pop and reach down to line the head up with his cock. 
He pauses. “God DAMN,” he says as you push it in alongside him. He pushes his hips forward, filling you up. 
You sigh as you're once again full. 
“Fuck, that feels better,” he breathes, moving his hips to pump in and out of you to the same rhythm of your hand. “Ohh, fuck I'm gonna–” 
“Hold on,” you tell him. 
He’s struggling not to come. Sweating, panting, looking at your stuffed cunt, then your body, your blissed out face, then the ceiling as he fucks you while you fuck yourself, too. 
Soon, he bottoms out with a groan and pulses inside. 
“I dunno how ya do it,” he marvels. “Tight as hell, then she’s gapin’, beggin’ for more.”
When he slides out of you, you’re grateful he holds you as your body fills the void. He spoons you but stays up on one elbow so he’s hovering, looking at you in the moonlight. He brushes your burning cheek with his thumb and smiles. He nudges your chin to face him and he kisses you good night, again. You fall asleep spooning. 
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Your engagement is what makes this AU fun to write. I would love to hear your thots, what lore you want, etc. that's what makes Tumblr my platform of choice, too. If you're shy, anons are back on for now.
If you're not caught up on night walks, consider giving it a shot - Night Walks (latest - beach walks).
If you want more of a character, engage. It's fun for all. Don't use AI, which makes writing less fun.
IDK when or what I will post next.
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@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @am-3-thyst
832 notes · View notes
wttcsms · 9 months
Text
most noble ; kento nanami.
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pairing kento nanami x f!reader  word count 3.6k  synopsis your beloved knight nobly defends your honor by participating in a tourney to duel the man who insults you. he does not realize that the reward for his victory is your hand in marriage. content contains medieval royal au, knight!nanami & princess!reader, age gap (reader is 22/nanami is 29), longing!!! it's about the pining!!!, requited unrequited love, romantic tension, nanami being hopelessly in love but feeling undeserving :( author's notes omg can y'all just get ur acts together n marry each other holy shit (make me make a pt. 2, plssss)
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Kento Nanami knows that he’s made a mistake, perhaps one so major that not even taking another professional role within the castle will be able to cover it up. Then again, it’s not like him leaving his post the first time around has resulted in any change. Maybe him leaving only to return back to your side once more is precisely the reason why he’s making so many mistakes.
For example, earlier this week, his fingers brushed against yours while handing you your tiara. Or, just before that, he found himself remaining only two steps behind you rather than the traditional three. And maybe he’s just paranoid, afraid that he’s being obvious and overly obnoxious in his displays of affection for you, but he did not earn the title of Head Knight of the Royal Guard for no reason. The king — your father — would not have bestowed such a prestigious title to a man who is not always proceeding with constant caution. 
To any visitor of the court, Sir Nanami is just another highly skilled knight, dedicated to protecting the princess. To Nanami, he is a lovesick fool trailing after you, failing to mask his true affections. 
No one sees through him, except for the one person who he so wishes were blind to his feelings. 
Easily excitable and sweetly endearing, you are the heiress to the throne and future ruler to citizens who adore you. It’s hard not to fall for your charm or the kindness that you bestow upon anyone who comes across your path. You’re considered to be the sun that shines over the kingdom, and Nanami knows of no star that shines brighter than you. 
But behind your youthful exuberance and seemingly carefree attitude is a highly perceptive young lady of the court. With your cheery smiles and laughter that seems to flow so easily and rings through the halls of the castle, it is easy to forget that one day, you will be queen, and that you have been raised your whole life to fulfill your royal duty. 
It is easy to remember this fact when you’re sitting atop your throne, staring down at him as he kneels. 
“You regret it,” you say, absentmindedly tracing the intricate designs carved onto the handles of your seat. You still haven’t learned how to stop moving your hands every time you’re nervous. It’s your only tell; for as well as you can read Nanami, he can read you even better. Your anxiety only causes him to tighten his jaw, his eyes focused on the lower half of your face because this is all his role allows him to do. He should not dare to look Her Royal Highness in the eyes; not at his lowly level in comparison to you.
You frown at his silence, knowing that he’s doing it to raise the barrier between you two. Four years ago, he hadn’t tried to shut you out so firmly, and every day since then, you have spent all your free time wondering why he wants nothing to do with you. 
The it you’re referring to could be many different things. “It” could possibly be him leaving his station as your personal knight in order to become one of the king’s advisors. “It” could also be referring to him returning to be your knight. Or maybe you’re talking about the kiss the two of you shared a fortnight before he decided to stop being your royal guard. The kiss that lingers on his lips, even to this day. He doesn’t even have to think hard enough to remember the wonderful feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own, or that saccharine taste of yours that is yours alone; no fruit, no candy, nothing has ever been able to mimic your sweetness. The kiss that never should have been. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss.
Maybe “it” is none of that, or maybe it’s all of the above. He knows you, and you’re not going to clarify because you believe that Nanami is a mindreader, and for the most part, he is. He knows what gowns you favor, and when you’re sleepy during court meetings, and he knows what order you’re going to eat the food on your plate. He knows where you go when you want to be alone (to the horse stables, to be with your beloved mare), and what your favorite tiara looks like, and that you snort when you laugh (but only ever in the presence of those you are truly comfortable with; only ever in the presence of him). 
He does not, however, know about his place in your heart. 
You wonder if he’s forcing himself to be unaware of your feelings for him. Sometimes, in the corner of your eyes and in your shadow that he follows, you catch him staring at you longingly, hopefully. With a type of reverence that differs from the one grateful citizens show you. This one feels… intimate. A look meant to be shared only with lovers. 
Lovers.
You had toyed with the idea four years ago, when you were eighteen and bright-eyed and much too hopeful for your own good. You craved romance and passion, and whichever suitor you came across, you always found them to be lacking, none of them comparing to Sir Nanami. And you knew, with girlish glee, that it is Nanami that you want. And then came that fateful afternoon in the gardens where you kissed him, and you swore that flowers started blooming on the bushes as a result. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining much brighter than ever, and you felt weightless. As if the inevitability of having to rule a kingdom was no longer a point of stress, and the burdens of your royal duty slipped from your shoulders and melted into the dewy grass beneath you. All that existed, for that brief second of bliss, was you and Nanami.  
And then, two weeks later, he resigned and decided to work for your father. 
His return had come as a surprise to you. During the years he stopped being your knight, you saw him only once a week, if the fates decided to bless you. For the most part, you’ve grown accustomed to only seeing his broad back or a flash of blond hair passing you by in the corridor. You wonder if he knows that he’s your first kiss — your only kiss. Surely he must. He’s spent a good portion of his life ensuring that your virtue was to never be tainted. 
“I do not know what you speak of, My Lady.” He says. He speaks so little to you now that you savor the sound of his deep baritone, the smoothness of how words seem to glide off his tongue. Nanami takes something so mundane as talking and turns it into an art. 
“You regret the duel.” 
And here lies the grand mistake that Nanami cannot figure out how to fix. He believes that being cold to you will perhaps dissuade anyone from assuming how closely he holds you to his heart (his act of emotional indifference towards you is so convincing, even you sometimes believe it), but he’s only human. He is a slave to his emotions — the utterly irrational ones, the ones that make him act a fool — as all men are. 
Nanami hadn’t intended on participating in the tourney. He’s nearing twenty-nine, after all. He’s reached the highest status any knight could possibly aspire to, and he no longer is a squire from a commoner family with something to prove. Tourneys are a thing of the past, a memory from his boyhood. 
But there are visitors from all sorts of lands who came down for this royal celebration. A lowly lord from a kingdom ruled by Mahito is precisely the type of scum that does a disservice to all men. Crass, vulgar, and entirely immature, Lord Shigemo has a dastardly reputation for never keeping his disgusting comments or filthy hands to himself. And while it was not his touch that threatened your very virtue, it was the perverted proclamations he kept declaring that had Nanami seeing red. 
“She’s a bit old for my liking, but I still bet her maidenhood is ripe enough for the taking. I’d love to see her bleed all over my cock.” Lord Shigemo snickers as he loudly announces this, his beady eyes staring right at you. He’s smart enough to not say your name, lest his head end up on a stake outside your father’s castle, but he’s dumb enough to not heed the warnings he’s been told. 
The princess is protected by the bravest of all knights, and the most honorable of all gentlemen. 
For that comment alone, Nanami is ready to unsheathe his sword and behead Shigemo, but he knows he cannot. There has been no direct threat to you, and Nanami has just enough restraint to remember that his anger cannot get the best of him. He is not to harm visitors to the kingdom, no matter how deserving of punishment they are, because maintaining peace between the lands is of the utmost importance. 
But the way your body stiffens and the almost sickly pallor of your face that occur as a result of Lord Shigemo’s verbal transgression is enough to have Nanami pledge his participation in the dueling tourney. He signs his name in the same competition bracket as Shigemo’s, and you’re pleasantly surprised when Nanami kneels down, asking for your favor and a blessing as he goes to represent your family. 
“And what has made you so keen on dueling now, hmm? Why, King Gojo has spent the better half of today trying to goad you into jousting with his knight.” You’re teasing him, eyes sparkling, your gibe gentle and without malicious intent.
You’re not trying to convince Nanami to not partake in the tournament. In fact, you take secret pleasure in watching his swordsmanship, even going out of your way to sneak into the training grounds and watch as he practices moves you’re certain he’s already perfected. For a man with so much muscle mass, he moves swiftly and with a sharp, quick precision that does not befit his firm build. 
“It is to defend my lady’s honor.” He curses himself for being so forthright with his intentions. He could have told you that it was to honor your family, and it would not have been a lie, but it wouldn’t have been said with the same strong conviction he speaks with now. It is not the king or any of your cousins that he is fighting for; it is just you, only you. 
Removing the brooch from your gown, you attach it to the cloth of his shirt that is soon to be covered by armor. It’s a dark blue gem, matching the color your house favors. 
“My most noble of all protectors. You have my favor, then, and all my prayers.” As you always do is the real ending to your sentence, but you fear that if you reveal too much, then Nanami will not be able to focus and give this tourney his all. You wonder if you should reveal the prize for winning, but decide against it at the last minute when he dares to look at you, a glimmer of the same affection from four years ago shining in his dark eyes. It’s a similar look to the one he gave you before your lips met his. 
The urge to kiss him again rises, your heart thumping against your chest, but all you allow yourself to do is smile at him.
The tourney itself is a quick event. Usually, it lasts far longer than the hour it takes up, and the gambling a tense, exciting affair. With Nanami entering at the last minute, most gamblers changed their bets to go all in on him winning, and for a good reason. He makes quick work of every opponent unfortunate enough to be paired with him, and the only time Nanami truly takes his sweet time is when he comes face to face with an anxious Lord Shigemo. 
Even toying with him doesn’t give Nanami much pleasure. Shigemo is a weak opponent, a poorly trained fighter, and a pitiful excuse of a man. Tired of his time being wasted, Nanami has the man shaking underneath the sharp point of his sword within seconds after deciding he is done playing these games. Even after being declared the winner of the whole tourney, an outcome he isn’t surprised at, he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. Flowers and handkerchiefs are being thrown at him as a show of respect and celebration, but only when he looks up into the crowd, his eyes focusing on your smiling visage, does he feel an ounce of pure happiness.
Before he can climb the steps leading to the showbox that houses all the prominent royal families, one of the tourney competitors stops to congratulate Nanami. 
“Lucky bastard.” It’s Naoya Zenin, Crown Prince of the neighboring kingdom. Nanami is glad he was not competing in the same bracket as the prince; not because of a difference in skill, but because wounding a Zenin’s pride was considered treason to them. 
“It’s just flowers.” Nanami says. He doesn’t understand what Naoya’s fascination with them are, but perhaps it’s the glory of being a victor that he’s envious of.
“Don’t be a fool.” Naoya scoffs. “We all know the real prize that every damn man was trying to claim.” 
Nanami is still confused. Of course, Naoya talks incessantly and most of the time, Nanami does not care what the Zenin heir has to say, but he did notice that there were far more competitors signing up for the tourney than previous years. Is there a monetary reward no one told him about? 
“So, how much for you to forfeit?” Naoya asks, completely unaware of Nanami's ignorance. 
“Pardon?”
He rolls his eyes, as if Nanami is some type of undomesticated animal, untrained to following commands. Nanami wishes he had been placed in the same bracket as Naoya now, treason charges be damned. 
“Never mind, then. I’m sure the princess herself will just make an announcement rescinding the reward.” Naoya smirks at the thought of that, and Nanami struggles to fight the urge to demand the prince stop being so cryptic and to just explain what the hell he’s rambling on about. Rescind what reward? 
A familiar head of pink hair pops up by his side, and Nanami immediately recognizes his young student. Eager Yuuji Itadori is smiling widely, happy for his teacher, and for once, Nanami is grateful that young Itadori does not know how to beat around the bush.
“Wow, congratulations, Sir Nanami! I had no idea that you wanted to marry Princess [Name]! Will you still be able to train me as Prince Consort?” 
Nanami’s blood runs cold. Oblivious to his mentor’s sudden anguish, Yuuji continues on. 
“Her Royal Highness was so kind to open the competition for her hand to any class. Of course, some people dared to criticize her and claim it’s because she’s becoming too old to be a maiden so she had to cast a wide net, but I know plenty of ladies who are unwed in their twenties. Will you still be her knight as her husband, or will that role have to go to someone else? Say, Sir Nanami, are you feeling alright?” 
You’re beaming with pride at your beloved knight’s victory, yet nervousness at watching him interact with Prince Naoya started creeping in. You start to relax when the Zenin heir walks off, but your peace of mind shatters when you watch Sir Itadori engage in conversation with Nanami. You watch his facial expression tighten, his body tense up, and you realize that Nanami knows. He knows that he has a right to be betrothed to you, and it dawns on you, from his poor reaction, that this is not the outcome he wanted. 
Which leaves the two of you here, alone in your throne room. Your father had found your idea of a tournament for your hand in marriage to be a silly one, but he had indulged you because you promised to be betrothed to someone at the end of it. By standards of the court, you’re much too old at twenty-two to remain unwed. 
You’ve been plotting ways to get Nanami to participate, even daring to consider commanding him to do so, but never has being a victim to malicious comments ever been as beneficial as it has today. Nanami signed up for the tourney by his own will! His words ring in your ear, looping incessantly as you watch him fight.
It is to defend my lady’s honor.
He does not know the effect that title has on you, at least when it’s coming from him. My lady. His. 
“If the idea of marrying me causes you so much ire, I will call off the betrothal at once and relieve you from your knightly duties, as well.” You do not want to do such a thing, but… You love Nanami. You love him so much that if it is your presence that pains him, you will take your leave now.
“No.” 
The word comes from somewhere deep within himself, throaty and raw, like it hurts to say it, but it had to be spoken. The fates demand it. 
“No?” You repeat, slowly, almost as if the word is something foreign to your tongue.
“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to speak out of turn.” 
“You do not want to leave me?” You say it softly, but it’s just the two of you in this room. Every word exchanged seems to bounce around the walls, ricocheting, hitting the both of you in the face. 
“Princess, it is not a matter of my wants.” Why must you torture him so? While he knows he can never marry you, there was a second of elation that excited his soul at the prospect of being your betrothed. He’s lived a rough life, his calloused palms and hardened heart proof of it. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in fantasies for quite some time, but you inspire just enough hope that it stabs him in his heart. Daring to dream of the impossible is a fool’s game. 
“Ask me what I want.” You say it firmly. He obliges. 
“What is it that you want, my lady?”
“You, Kento.” 
No title, no boundaries. You have spoken his name, and that sting in his heart, the harmful side effect of his hope, grows. He dares to look up just a bit more, his eyes staring deep into your own. 
All the walls Nanami painstakingly built to separate you two threaten to crumble right before his very eyes. His battlefield tact is of no use here. Had this been any other battle, he would charge forward with his head and sword raised high. Retreat is not an option for a soldier such as himself. 
So why does he flirt with the idea of fleeing now? 
“I am not deserving.”
“It hurts me when you say that.” And you say it with such a wounded look on your soft features that Nanami knows it must be true. 
“I am not even a lord.” He’s fumbling for an excuse, anything to convince you that marrying him would be a mistake. He finds your stubbornness endearing, but he must get you to understand that you will regret marrying him.
“I have no need for a lord.” You retort, almost scoffing at the notion.
“I am seven years your senior.”
“Much better than the suitors decades older than I.” 
“You must understand that I am not the gentlest of men. I am not built for care.” The tips of his ears turn red, a giveaway to his shame and embarrassment at the fact. 
“I am not fragile.” 
Stubborn. You are much too stubborn for your own good.
“I have tainted you.” He chokes out, staring you directly in the eyes. Showing his sins to the broad daylight filtering through the stained glass windows of this room. “I have stolen a kiss meant for your husband.”
“I kissed you! You have tainted nothing, you have robbed no one!” You exclaim, shocked at his misery. 
“And now I have stolen your fate.” He continues. “You should not wish to marry a man like me, and you will only come to regret this impulsive decision of your youth if you force this betrothal.” 
“Am I forcing you, Sir?” The title seems almost like a mockery, especially after you exchanged it for his given name just minutes prior. 
There is nothing Nanami can say that will change your mind, and he realizes this. He realizes the pure selfishness of wanting you to not change your mind, but he is stubborn as well. The tension in this room wraps around the both of you, binding you two together. It’s a battle of wills, now. 
Perhaps it always has been. 
“You will regret this, my lady.” This is what he says. Inside, he begs of you, please do not regret me. 
Satisfied at seemingly having your way, you settle into your throne, leaning back. 
“So noble of you to want to save me from what you consider a dastardly fate, but I shall be the judge of that.” 
And thus, the engagement period begins.
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chaoticforever · 11 days
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Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader
Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?
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Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.
Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece one simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.
Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.
Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.
However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.
Peter Parker.
See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.
He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.
"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"
"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"
Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."
"And what perspective is that?"
Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."
Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."
A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.
"Thank you. That means a lot to me."
"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."
Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."
Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.
As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.
But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.
With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.
When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.
"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.
Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"
"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"
"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."
Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."
Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"
Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.
"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."
Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.
The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?
It was ridiculous.
But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.
Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.
He couldn’t wait.
XXXXX XXXXX
The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.
Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.
After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.
Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.
Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.
His dad was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.
"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.
Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"
"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.
The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.
"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.
Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."
That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.
"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."
Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.
Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."
"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."
Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."
The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.
He didn’t understand.
Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.
Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.
The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.
Proud dad moment...?
Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?
And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.
His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.
Suddenly, a knock came from his door.
"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"
Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"
Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"
The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."
Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.
"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.
Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.
They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.
Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.
"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."
Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."
Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."
The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."
He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."
"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."
Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.
But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.
And that made him smile.
XXXXX XXXXX
The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.
As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.
"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.
Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."
Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."
The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."
Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."
Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"
"I took Peter to the science fair."
"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.
Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."
The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand. 
"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"
"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."
Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.
Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.
And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.
Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.
"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.
"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.
Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."
Y/n looked around. "Where are we?" 
"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped." 
Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him. 
And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."
Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."
Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."
Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.
Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."
"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."
It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.
"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.
Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."
He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.
And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.
"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one. 
"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.
As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.
But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.
Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.
And his heart dropped to his stomach.
Y/n had been shot.
The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.
"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"D-Dad."
"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"
They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.
The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son. 
Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s. 
"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.
Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.
"What happened?" One of them asked.
"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained. 
The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. 
The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.
Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.
Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely audible. "I don’t think I’ll make it."
The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.
But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."
Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.
"I love you."
The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.
"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n. 
But it didn't work.
"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.
Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. Y/n was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.
"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced. 
And, just like that, Tony Stark broke. 
He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.
Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.
And Tony felt like he had died too.
His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.
"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."
But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it. 
It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.
That made his sobs grow louder.
The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.
Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.
Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.
Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.
Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.
Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful. 
Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.
Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m so sorry, son," his voice a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."
For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.
XXXXX XXXXX
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lazyjellyfish300 · 6 months
Text
Blurred Lines❤️‍🩹
Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader
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Synopsis: you and Miguel have a casual arrangement of just sex. You reluctantly agree in hopes that you can get him to fall for you. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Word count 5.3k
Part 2
TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(it's a little on the more mild side imo but P IN V, ORAL (F AND M RECEIVING), FINGERING), ANGST, CASUAL RELATIONSHIP, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, COLDER MEAN MIGUEL, SAD, LIGHT DV(HE PUNCHES A WALL AFTER YOU SLAP AND SHOVE HIM) IF ANYTHING LIKE THAT IS QUITE DIFFICULT FOR YOU, I'D RECOMMENDED NOT READING ❤️
SPANISH SPEAKERS, feel free to correct me. I'm SO sorry if I fucked it up. I hope y'all enjoy some more angsty Miguel. 🖤 This one is a longer one, sorry!
----------
You're a new lab tech at Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York and it's your first day. Bright eyed and bushy-tailed you, fresh out of college and not aware of what's about to hit you.
Until he walks by the pillar you're leaning against during your debriefing by Jessica Drew.
"Who's he?" you kind of softly squeak out as you watch the gorgeous man walk by. He's exceptionally tall and handsome, his chiseled features in a stoic expression, crimson eyes scanning his surroundings as he passes. He takes notice of you for a brief moment, then continues on. You shamelessly hold him in your gaze as he disappears down a dark corridor.
Jess follows where your eyes are looking and smirks. "That's Miguel O'Hara. He's my boss, actually. You won't have to worry about him except when you do blood samples. He mainly deals with the Spiders. If he gives you trouble, don't take it personally, it's just how he is." Jess leans in a little closer, speaking woman to woman now.
"Just between you and me, girl. You're gonna wanna stay away from him. Everyone here wants him. But he's emotionally unavailable. You seem like a nice girl. Don't waste your time. Trust me, I've seen it."
You nod slowly, somewhat discouraged by that. But, against your better judgement, you start coming to work in your cutest, sluttiest outfits that you can put together without breaking the lab safety rules. Thigh high boots, tight little skirts that hit you mid thigh, off the shoulder knit tops that halt just below the round tops of your cleavage, and skin tight dresses that hug you in all the right places.
Every week when you deliver the lab reports to Miguel, you have a different outfit on for him, hair and makeup done, flashing the most stunning smiles you can muster at him, staring directly into his eyes when he speaks, enthusiastically bobbing your head.
Week after week, Miguel seems to keep the same stoic disposition with you, not cracking under the flirtatious pressure you're applying to him with your overzealous attention and special outfits. Just how many layers to this guy is there? You wonder.
One day, about a month later since you started, Miguel is in the middle of a rant about the lab department and their tardiness on sample readings as of late, expecting you take his feedback to your supervisor when, you slowly bring your pen to your mouth, biting the cap ever so lightly while staring at Miguel's lips, not even hiding the fact that you've stopped paying attention and are focusing on more... intriguing matters.
Miguel's flow of speech stalls for a minute as you bring the pen to your mouth. He snaps out of it and continues on, then pauses again. He looks away from you and his jaw tenses. "Mierda(shit)..." he mutters.
Your face gets a little warm, but you smile, keeping the pen in your teeth. It would seem that your efforts this time were paying off.
"I forgot where I was going with that..." Miguel says, still turned away from you. "Never mind, you can leave now," he says cooly.
Your eyebrows raise a little bit, surprised he's just dismissing you like that, but you don't argue. You turn on your heel and walk away, heels clunking on the floor. Meanwhile, Miguel grabs the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white.
---
Next week, you head for Miguel's office again, carrying the stack of weekly reports. You're wearing a new long sleeved black dress under your lab coat, channeling your inner Morticia Addams. You're feeling a little more excited this time, wondering if he'll act as flustered as he did last week when you teased him with your pen in your mouth.
You approach Miguel, his back turned to you as he stares at several yellow-orange surveillance holograms at his desk. He recognizes the sound of your heels on the floor but doesn't turn around.
"Happy Friday, got your reports right here!" You announce in a whimsical tone.
Miguel sighs and turns his head, looking down. He then turns to you, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he takes the stack of papers in his hand, scanning the top page. After a moment of silence, he moves his head, motioning to a hallway that leads to the archive room.
"Come with me," he says nonchalantly, already walking towards the hallway. You raise an eyebrow but follow after him, stuffing your hands in your lab pockets.
Once you're down the hall, you enter a room which is a maze of filing cabinets, most of them even towering over Miguel, who's 6'9. Miguel takes a few sharp turns, leading you deeper into the maze then finally stops at the one he's looking for. He throws the stack of papers in the cabinet with a slam and an echo off the empty walls and looks at you, crossing his arms and leaning back against the cabinet.
"You look beautiful today," he says in a soft voice.
You freeze, alarmed by his casual demeanor he seemed to pull out of nowhere.
"Um, thank you..." you feel your cheeks get hot and your stomach squirm with excitement and fluster. You only daydreamed of this happening, your gorgeous work crush finally noticing AND complimenting you in the same day.
"Is that a new dress?" His crimson eyes are roaming you up and down as he approaches you, caging you in against a tall cabinet behind you.
Your stomach leaps up to your throat, your breasts heaving.
"Yeah..."
Miguel's eyelids flutter a little bit at your breasts moving against the fabric of your dress as you became more flustered.
"I like it," he whispers.
Then, he's pinned you against the filing cabinet, attacking your mouth with his lips, his hands flying to both sides of your throat, his thumbs smoothing into your cheeks, his hips pressed against you.
"Ugnhh..." your hands fly to his hair on their own accord, your fingers getting lost in his chocolate strands. You kiss him with everything you can, sucking and biting his lip. He's a damn good kisser. Each stroke of his lips is sending you into orbit as you feel growing warmth in your core.
"Keep walking in my office dressed so slutty every week, hmm? Thinking I wouldn't notice?" He groans into your mouth. He grabs your chin in his fingers, forcing your head back. He leans in and begins kissing your neck, relishing the way you begin to shiver, making soft pretty moans for him. He makes his way up your neck, pausing at your ear, dragging your bottom lip down with his thumb.
"Wrap your legs around me," he whispers.
You jump into his arms, winding your thighs tightly around his waist, seizing him as tight as you can, even adding a little roll of your hips, hungry for friction.
Miguel grunts at your eagerness and uses the cabinet behind you to pin you up against, still keeping you wrapped around him. He uses one hand to guide your dress back up and over your thighs, groaning when he realizes you went commando today. He gives you his fingers, causing sharp, high pitched moans to escape you.
"Monta mis dedos, hermosa."
(Ride my fingers, beautiful)
-----
Now, when you eventually did your walk of shame back to the lab, your first time having sex with Miguel seemed like a blur, but in those heated moments during that encounter, they seemed endless and mind-numbing. The pleasure was damn near overwhelming.
No man's fingers sent you into orgasm as many times as his did. No man's tongue ever explored and lapped you up as intimately and expertly as his did.
And no man's cock was as fucking addictive and dangerous as his was.
You were now his little slut and you loved it.
Even though you didn't really confide in any of your co-workers, people around HQ seemed to put two and two together that you were the one to be envied, the new woman occupying Miguel's bed and attention.
After the second time you guys hooked up, you laid in his bed at HQ, the Queen sized bed seeming almost not big enough to hold his enormous size as he pounded you relentlessly into it. Hours passed until you both were covered in sweat, fully coated in each other's slick, the comforter and top sheet cast to the side, since the heat you generated during the rounds you two shared was more than enough to keep you warm.
You panted, staring at his ceiling, absolutely hammered with satisfaction.
He sat up after a few moments, rubbing the back of his neck. He got up and went into his bathroom. You heard the sounds of him relieving himself and then a squeak from a faucet as his shower turned on.
You come out of your daze after a moment, confused. You feel a slight tug of worry as you see him turn on the shower immediately, occupying himself right after you fucked and can't help but feel a rush of insecurity in what you thought was a pleasurable experience for the both of you.
He just seemed to need to rinse off as the water shuts off only after a couple minutes. He walks out with a towel around his waist, water dripping from his body, creating little pools on his tile floor, digging in his dresser drawers for some underwear and clean clothes.
"I have a meeting in about a half hour. You're welcome to rest for a bit longer, though. I trust you to lock my door on your way out?"
You blink rapidly, taken aback by his shortness with you. But, you realize you don't really have a good reason to be upset right now. You two certainly aren't dating. You haven't even had a long, meaningful conversation or got to know the guy yet. Just one, now two, steamy hookups at work and that's it.
You nod with a tight lipped smile, trying to hide your disappointment. Miguel nods back in acknowledgement and goes back to drying himself off, resting a leg on an armchair in the corner, still butt naked.
You just watch him, captivated by his beauty. You realize that you're not going to get clarity on what this is between you two unless you speak now.
"Miguel....?"
His name sounds innocent in the way it leaves your lips, despite the filth they were committing on his genitals just an hour earlier.
He looks at you, not pausing his task.
"Yes?"
You hesitate, scared of his reaction to your next question.
"Um, what are we, exactly? Or, rather, I guess, what is this we're doing?" You gesture between yourself and him.
He finally stops and looks at you, his brow furrows.
Your heart drops, realizing you might have spoke too soon.
But his brow softens, just a little bit. It was only a natural question to ask, after all. What kind of ass would he be for being upset at you for asking? But unfortunately, at this time, what he has to offer is probably not what you're hoping for.
"Well...," he says quietly, thinking deeply. "I think we definitely have strong physical chemistry together. I'd like to have more of these experiences with you, if you're up for it."
You nod, slightly encouraged by the news but wanting more.
"And so...are we exclusively seeing each other?"
Miguel doesn't answer right away, but then he says firmly after a beat, "I don't date."
You feel a knot in your stomach. Not what you wanted to hear, for sure.
"But, I do think us limiting or having no other sexual partners while we're seeing one another is a sensible thing to do," he says. "Out of respect for you and I, either one of us should let the other know if we begin seeing someone else, or if we wish to terminate the relationship."
You sit, slowly processing his words, pulling the top sheet over your legs as the heat from your encounter has now worn off.
"So, you'd like to have just a physical relationship with me? Like friends with benefits?"
Miguel nods slowly. "Yeah, you could call it that, I suppose."
Your mind races, you already know this is a horrible idea but here you are contemplating it anyway.
"Just sex, but we're only fucking each other, and either one of us can end the relationship at any time? No feelings involved?"
Miguel gives you a little grin. "Sounds good to me. But, I do want to heavily emphasize the last part. No feelings involved, please. If you don't think you'll be able to do this, there's no shame in letting me know."
You swallow. "Any, um...reason why you're so against dating or having any sort of emotional commitment?"
Miguel blinks. "I'd rather not get deep into that, but, I suppose to make myself more understood: I avoid emotional affairs, mainly due to my work and because of the lifestyle I lead. I have tremendous responsibilities and I can't devote time to nurture a relationship like a normal person would. Does that answer your question?"
You fiddle with a strand of your hair. "Yeah...that makes more sense."
You look off, still deep in thought. You're at the ledge, almost about to jump, despite the obvious pain that would inevitably become yours when you hit the water, the sharp rocks of disappointment and heartache would become your bed.
"I would like to be friends with benefits with you, on one condition," you say.
"What's that?" a small smirk appears on Miguel's face, a little excited now at your willingness to give him your body on a regular basis.
"We spend at least 30 minutes after the deed holding each other, just as part of normal aftercare."
Miguel raises his eyebrows, a quizzical look on his face. He's been out of the dating game for so long. He had to relearn how to be soft and let that side of him through again, and it didn't come naturally. But it sure doesn't mean that he's changing his mind on wanting to be something more than fuck buddies, he still wanted to stay away from the unpredictable tides of human emotions at all costs.
"Very well, fair. I don't mind a little cuddle afterwards, for your sake. If that's all you need?" He asks.
You nod silently, hoping your modest request isn't turning him off.
He walks over to you, getting back on the bed, putting an arm behind his head while you scoot closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder, sighing in content. He wraps his free hand around your shoulder, closing his eyes, allowing the time to pass in silence.
The silence is a little uncomfortable, but at least he's holding you. After some time, Miguel gives your shoulder a squeeze and sits up. "Perdóname(forgive me), I really do need to get going now. Take your time, though you know. And lock the door behind you on your way out please."
"When would you like to do this again?" You ask.
"Tomorrow, at 11 am," he answers. He looks at you with a small side smile. "I'll clear your schedule with your supervisor. Don't worry about it."
You shoot a smile his way, excited about playing hooky tomorrow to fuck Miguel instead. And the best part was he was in on it too. Even if you couldn't be his girlfriend, this was the next best thing, or so you told yourself.
-----
The next day at 11 am, your third physical encounter is well underway as you're on your knees under Miguel's desk, sucking him off during one of his virtual meetings. Peter B is rattling off, throwing in some painful dad jokes which makes Miguel roll his eyes. You stuff more of him in the back of your throat, forcing his attention back you.
"Carajo (fuck)....keep doing that," he mutters to you. You moan in response, your mouth full of him, throwing everything you can into each flick of your tongue.
Miguel groans and grabs a fistful of your hair. "So fuckin pretty," he coos quietly to you.
"What's that, Miguel?" Peter asks through the meeting speakers.
"Shut the FUCK up Peter," Miguel hisses back, moving your head with his hand.
"Okay, so anyway, like I was saying...." Peter continues.
Miguel shuts off the meeting with a short grunt.
-----
The 4th time, you find yourself fogging the windows in his car as you straddle him, moving your hips in toe-curling circles, edging him closer to combustion in his backseat.
The 5th time, your legs are on his shoulders in his office again. The 6th time, he's between your legs at your apartment, gently coaxing the soul out of your body with his torturous tongue. You glance down at him and he's looking up at you, intoxicated with the taste of everything you're excreting onto his perfect face.
You melt at the sight and realize when you're shaking afterwards that your worst fear is becoming a reality. Your fucking is turning into lovemaking, expressions of lust giving way to affection, the passion molding into adoration.
You clinged to the breadcrumbs he offered you, your delusion fueling the belief that over time, they could sustain you. Any praise he offered you when he was rutting into you, you collected in the empty pockets lining your heart, not knowing you were building your own Roman Empire. The naive architect over your own demise. His crimson eyes your downfall.
The part of your brain you thought you could shut off while you let your body do the talking was in fact alive. Somewhere along the line, one of the hundred deadly thrusts of his hips was responsible for flicking the switch.
Letting him in was like your own version of a Trojan Horse. His troubled soul and enchanting voice pulled and tugged at your trustful and altruistic nature until he lowered your guard. Soon, he was laying siege and attacking the city of your heart, carelessly laying waste to the very walls that welcomed him...not caring that you were drowning in your own blood you shed at his expense, his own confession of love for you the only antidote for your suffering, which you only hoped to God existed, possibly harboured somewhere in the far down recesses of his mind that he didn't dare open.
The 7th time, you're having sex in your bed again. He's on top of you this time. And you're not sure if it's the delicious way he's groaning when you say his name, the tender way he's cupping your face and not letting you look anywhere else but him as he rocks his full length into you, but it causes you to blurt out,
"I love you, Miguel."
He pants, and stops moving, hanging his head with his eyes shut. He holds the position for a moment then climbs off of you, rubbing his face and temples as he sits on the edge of the bed. You sit up too, wishing you could reel your words back into your head as quickly as you said them.
"I'm sorry...," you bite your lip. "Please don't stop..."
After a beat, he stands up and begins to look for his clothes. "It's fine." He says simply.
You look at him in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"
"I made it very clear from the beginning. I don't do feelings. I don't do relationships. This is why I steer clear of this bullshit all together, because it always ends up being my fault!" He snarled, stuffing his clothes into his hands and hastily throwing on his shirt.
Your jaw falls open, it was though he did a 180. In place of who you thought could be a caring and attentive man who made you feel beautiful and spent hours learning your body and pleasuring you in ways you never thought possible, it was Mr. Hyde to his Dr. Jekyll, callous, cruel, and indifferent to your feelings. The version of him who only cared about getting off, not minding that he willingly went down this road with you, and only after causing you to fall did he take a turn, leaving you stranded.
He sighs deeply. "Look, I think we should take a break. It's not over, we can maybe resume at a later time. But it's clear you need space, and I need space too." He puts his pants back on. "I just need you to understand that no matter what, I'm not going to allow you, or myself make this into anything more than what we agreed upon in the beginning: just sex, that's it."
Tears begin to fall down your face, your heart beginning to ache in your chest from the sword he just planted in it.
"Why don't you let anyone in? Is it that crazy that maybe a girl like me actually gives a shit about you for once and isn't out for your money or your looks or to break your heart?!" you spit your words at him, coated in anguish.
He's facing away from you, fully dressed now, and deep down it kills him to see you like this, but he's too prideful and too much of a fucking coward to let you see that it does.
"I'm leaving..." he says quietly. "I came here to fuck and enjoy my time with you, not have my head examined. I'll see you around." He leaves your room, walking to your front door.
Rage is seething out of your eardrums. You scream after him,"DON'T BOTHER! LOSE MY FUCKING NUMBER!!! Fucking asshole..."
You hear a click as your front door closes and you collapse into a fray of heartbreak on your bed, your tears driving you to sleep.
--------
The next few weeks are torture as you do everything you can to forget him. Pretend as though nothing happened. Pretend as though he never ravaged your body like he did. Pretend like he never broke you apart with his tongue. Pretend like he didn't snatch your heart from your chest. Pretend like he didn't cause you to fall in love with him only for him to leave you bleeding on the ground.
You start forcing one of the other lab techs to take the weekly reports to him as you don't even want to see his face. You're successful at avoiding him for the most part, until you catch him out of the corner of your eye talking to a Spider-Woman, craning her neck to look up at him as she batted her doe eyes and pouted her lip, green claws of jealousy sinking into you once more.
It was the night of the annual Spider Gala where the achievements of the Spider Society would be the highlights of the evening and various awards would be presented, with all employees expected to attend. You broke down and told Jess about your heartbreak from Miguel, and she managed to convince you to attend anyways.
"Show his dumb ass what he's missing out on."
And show him, (and all the male spiders), you did. Necks turned as you made your way across the room to the bar, donning a strapless black evening gown with a sweetheart neckline that kissed your breasts and held them up just right, and a mouthwatering slit in the right thigh. However, once you got your hands on the alcohol, you found it hard to stop throwing down one drink, after another, after another down the hatch. You took a shot each time you saw Miguel glowering at you from across the room, or each time a pretty new Spider tried to talk to him. Rational thoughts checking out for the evening and inebriation settling in.
You found yourself weeping in the bathroom, mascara running down your face when the voice over the speaker announces, "This year's Spider-Man of the year goes to...Miguel O'Hara."
An outbreak of applause interrupts your sobs and you hear Miguel's quiet acceptance speech, the inflections in his rich voice barely moving. The liquid in your veins suddenly inspires you to march back in to the dining hall.
Miguel is sitting back down and when he turns his face back to the stage, it freezes at the person and the silent death stare coming from their tear stained face: you, the woman he scorned, and he knew what the books said about hell hath no fury. Now, all of spider society had a front row seat.
You spoke in a cool tone, fire lining your pupils,
"And I'd like to take a second to congratulate Mr. O'Hara. Well deserved....You know what's so great about him? Just how hard he works. I mean, you couldn't find a boss like him anywhere with how dedicated he is to his work. Nevermind how many people he hurts to achieve his goal and toss aside like trash..."
A pin drops.
"But hey, whatever it takes to protect the multiverse, right?" your voice started to drip with forced sweetness.
The air in the room has become uncomfortably thick, but nobody dares interrupt your rampage. In the audience, Peter B. Parker looks at you sympathetically.
Ahhh typical Miggy, always breaking hearts. Not the first girl he's drove insane like this because he won't commit or let anyone get close to him...
You continue with your speech, "Because feelings are something to be ashamed of, right? Can't let people think you have a weakness or a soft side to you, because then they'll just use it against you. So, you gotta ruin every single good thing that happens to you, because when you lost it the first time, it nearly destroyed you, so you'd rather not have it at all."
The people sitting at Miguel's table give little shrieks of terror as he bolts up, knocking the table askew with his powerful thighs and swiftly walks out, his hands clenched in fists. You follow after him, feeling yourself becoming more and more unhinged.
"Get the fuck away from me," he scowls at you, his pace not slowing down as you pursue him down the empty halls of HQ.
"Just keep running huh, like you always do?" You spew at him as tears run down your face, your eye makeup dark like a raccoon. "How do I taste huh? How do you like me now? You like what you've done to me? You like torturing me like this?!"
You shove and slap him and he whips around, temper snapped, and lands a fist in the wall, the impact reverberating off the stone walls as the surface under his fist cracks slightly.
He pants, his shoulders tense, each back muscle defined underneath his black tux.
"You're done...," he says in a shaky voice. "I need you to stay away from me."
"Good, I'm fucking HAPPY to!!!" you respond sarcastically, throwing your arms in the air. "That's the nicest thing you could do for me at this point!
His back is still turned to you and he leaves without a word.
-------
That same night
You're perched on a lab table, sobbing in the empty lab when a tall figure approaches you, holding a glass of ice water. Your face shoots up to see who it is, only to be let down when it's not Miguel.
"Peter?"
Peter B. Parker walks in, his bowtie hanging undone from his dress shirt collar.
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay." He offers the glass to you and you take it, nursing a few sips.
"I'm...I'm fine...," you sniffle.
"Hey, come here..."
He takes his handkerchief from his tux pocket and dabs at your tears, taking care to not press too firmly into your face and ruin your makeup, despite the fact your tears already have.
"So beautiful..."
He studies your face, and you look back into his, his brown eyes filled with concern, the five o'clock shadow of his face contrasting with the dim light from the only desk lamp in the room, making him look oddly inviting.
He brings a hand to your cheek, running it gently along your chin and starts pulling you closer to him.
"Pete, what..."
He crashed his lips against yours aggressively, the stubble from his face tickling your skin.
"Peter!! Pete... stop...," you gasp in surprise, but then you go numb when he begins kissing your neck.
The way he's kissing your neck is dangerous. He doesn't try to be clean about it, either. His lips are soft and messy, leaving a trail of wetness along your collar and making his way to your chest.
You start to buck your hips, your body responding eagerly to the special attention he's paying to it.
"Pete...no...you're married...."
"We're separated," he mumbles, throwing your dress over his head.
"But I....ohhh....God...," you groan, pushing your back against the wall closest to you, your fists flying to his hair to keep him locked in place as he laps at you from under your dress.
Peter smiles devilishly.
"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me," he says softly.
You shudder.
"Oh, you like that baby?"
You nod eagerly, his tongue on your body plus the liquor in your system catapulting your mind into a state of intense pleasure.
"That feels good. Fffuck Peter.....," you moan breathlessly.
"Mmmm you're sexy when you say my name like that. Miguel doesn't know what a fool he is, passing up a pretty little thing like you...," Peter groans, adding two of his digits this time, his slick covered handsome face coming up to stare at you come undone in his hand..
"Peter...Peter, oh God...."
That's all he needs to hear from you to convince him you're ready to be fucked. You two mess with his belt buckle and soon he's snapping into you deliciously and deep, your nails in his back.
"That's it baby, let me fuck you....urgh, tell me, baby, did he fuck you like this? You're gonna forget about him when I'm done with you. Gonna make you crave this cock instead."
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let him have his way with you for the rest of the night.
-----
Peter was a good fuck...and boy he did make you feel good for a few hours. But when you awoke the next morning in Peter's bed, Miguel still stayed in the back of your mind. If there was anything else you could have done to get Miguel to be totally turned off from you, this would be it. Winding up in bed with one of his closest allies.
At work the next few weeks, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a scarlet letter A on your chest. Whispers and eyes followed you, conversations shifted in every room you entered. It was beginning to be too much. The occasional time you were unsuccessful at avoiding Miguel's presence, you wanted nothing more than to just cease to exist in that moment.
Your performance slipped and your supervisor took notice. One day, you went into his office and explained you were putting in your two weeks except you wanted to take your leave immediately. He couldn't help but nod and agree. He took pity on you after Jess explained the situation to him and arranged it so you would receive severance pay for a few months after you left. An unexpected fortune admist the sea of misfortunes you were being dealt as of late.
You packed up your desk that afternoon, a twinge of sadness sank from your chest to your belly as you prepared to leap into the unknown as you took one last look at the place that swallowed you up and spat you back out.
There was nothing left for you here. Miguel's face flashed across your mind one more time as you stepped across the threshold. The door closing on your past, the promise of healing hanging in the rays of sunshine that hit your cheeks.
----
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blerb-f1 · 27 days
Text
"Lost" - Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
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Charles celebrates too hard and gets lost. More news at 6
Find more on my masterlist!
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“Sir?”
“Sir!”
“Wah?”
Charles awoke as he felt his shoulder getting ruffled, eyes dry and hurting. His throat was dry.
“Sir, please get up. This train is finished cleaning, you have to leave”
‘Train?’, he wondered in confusion. Hadn't he just been celebrating his win in Monaco? He took a look at the person shaking him. She was a train attendant, pretty looking he might add. Her uniform was not flattering the least. A light blue t-shirt with a dark blue vest thrown over it. Her accent was german. He attempted to get out of his seat but stumbled, bad leg control.
She supported his shoulder. 
“Where am I?”
“Far off from any kind of civilisation you'd normally travel to, based on that watch on your arm” the attended reported. “The middle of nowhere, in Germany.”
Charles held his head. “I don't remember getting on this train at all.”
She looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, you had all the necessary tickets for your journey. Must have gotten them from somewhere.”
Together they walked outside of the train. The train station was small, one white painted building. Only two tracks, lot's off trees.
“Have you got anywhere to go to?”
Charles looked at her, thinking. Fumbling around his pocket resulted in nothing, his phone and wallet were gone. Shit.
“Apparently not. Let's just get going. You can stay the night with me, I've got space.”
“Can't I just take this train back to where I'm from?” Charles asked her in desperation.
“Good Joke, truly. This train runs every two hours during the day. And then you'd have to take more trains, none of which usually run in the night as well. Also, I've had a long day of work. I'm really, really beat up.”
Charles sighed. ‘What did I just get myself into? The people saying to not mix uppers and downers were right…’
She led him to her Car, a little silver Hyundai. Throwing her backpack in and settling into the driver's seat, she sighed in relief. “Finally done.”
“Done?”
“I've got the weekend off. Your arrival kinda ruined it but we gotta take the things as they come. I'm Y/N L/N. You?”
“Charles Leclerc”
“That sounds French”
“Monegasque”
“What? I don't know that word”
“I'm from Monaco!”
She looked at him in surprise.  “Now you're pulling my leg. You got here from MONACO? You must have taken like 10+ trains!”
“Urgs, not so loud. My head hurts”
“God.” She groaned as she inserted the car key, starting the little engine. “Move your hand”
“Huh?”
“Either you move your hand or you loosen the handbrake. I can't get it with you spreading over there”
Charles quickly lifted his arms in the air. “Isn't it Electric?”
She just looked at him exasperated. “Do I look like I'm shitting money? I can't afford a car that new. Unless you'd wanna pay one Mr. Money Bag over there.”
“Oi, that's rude”
“You're from Monaco, don't y'all bath in money and champagne? Now, let's just get going.”
The car ride was silent with Charles looking out of the windows. This really was the countryside. Trees, fields, cows and horses. Lots of half-timbered houses.
After half an hour of journey, with them passing over roads he'd never even classify as those, considering the many holes and breaks they finally reached a large property. A large half timbered house with a similar looking barn and a long building houses garages presented itself to him. She parked the Hyundai in one of the Garages, the smaller one to be exact, and stepped outside.
Charles followed her as she unlocked the front door, revealing a house with small-ish rooms with low height walls painted weight. The most color each room spotted was oak- all the furniture and floor were oak. He had never been in a house like this before.
“Stair up, the left room is the bathroom. Soap's there, go shower. I'll put clean clothes and towels in front of the door for you.”
“Shower?” 
“Sorry …Charlie. You stink. Long journey and all”
“Ah, I'm so sorry! I'll go shower immediately!”
Charles stepped into the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the ground. The second they left his body he noticed the less than stellar stench of sweat, alcohol and weed stuck on them. The water hitting his skin felt heavenly, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt he never thought could amass so quickly. The water was different, as well. It didn't smell of chlorine as much, more like iron instead. Nonetheless, only after the shower did he realize what a stinky guy he had become. The clothes laid in front of the door were oversized on him. Some red, used polo shirt and cargo pants with frayed edges awaited him. Downstairs in the Kitchen, Y/N had changed into casual wear, foot already served on the table. Charles settled into the chair, staring at the provided meal. “What, you’re not hungry?” she asked him, tauntingly. “I don’t know how to eat this” he had to state.
“Look”, she said. The table was covered in two plates, each having a solid kind of bun laid on it and a pot with sausages swimming around. She took her knife, cutting a slit into the Bun. “Take the Brötchen-”, she then grabbed a fork and fished out a sausage, putting it into the ‘Brötchen’, “then put the sausage in there. "That's it.”
“Nothing else?” Charles asked, pretty confused.
“Yeah, simple meal you know. "Nothing fancy.”
“Hm.”
They ate silently, with Charles being confused at how hard that Brötchen was. He slept in the living room that night. The house didn’t have blinds but there were no street lights to keep him awake. Instead pure silence, something he never encountered anywhere. It was almost blissful - until the sun woke him up at 6AM and the birds were singing really loudly. He heard a loud mechanical noise and a cupboard clinking, then Y/N appeared in the doorway, offering a mug. “Coffee.”
The cup of coffee was hot, very nice.
“We’ll go to the electronics store to get you a phone, so that you can get your stuff in order. I can’t get you onto a plane without documents.”
“Aight.”
“Are we there soon?”
“Sorry mate, nothing’s close by.”
Driving to the electronic store took over half an hour and as they finally arrived, no grand palace was awaiting him. It was a dinky old little store, the bottom floor housing washing machines, fridges and vacuums. The upstairs was mostly TVs and DVDs, the phones tucked into the corner. Charles approached the few iPhones they had there, playing around with them.
“Dude, pick something cheaper”
"Why?" I’d just buy something that lasts.”
Y/N looked at him in annoyance. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to pay me back. That stupid phone is like a third of my monthly income. I can’t afford that.”
“A third?”, he asked in shock.
“Yeah, train attendants don’t earn much. Tickets want to be cheap right? Also…” she added. “We gotta get you a limited plan. Since you don’t have an ID, I have to be the owner. We should get a monthly one so that i can cancel it later.”
He simply agreed, settling on one heck of a cheap phone.
“Finally.” he sighed, installing his social media apps and creating a new WhatsApp profile. Contact to the outside world could be established.
“I need to call my team.”
“Please do, i bet they’re worried sick”
Charles leaned against the door as Y/N settled inside, as he heard the familiar call beep. Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in a while returned from the speaker.
“Who’s there?”, asked his friend, Andrea Ferrari.
“It’s me, Charles!”
"Charles?!" Where the fuck have you been ? We were so worried about you!”
“So fun story, i apparently took multiple trains and am now somewhere randomly in Germany. And I lost my wallet along with my phone.”
“Somewhere in Germany and no identification… Can you rent a car?”
“No, since I obviously have no ID, right?”
"Ah, shit. How’d you get a phone?”
“A train attendant took me in and bought it, but she can’t really afford more than that.”
Andrea seemed to think for a moment. “What if we send her money and she drives you back?”
“That sounds like a moronic, stupid journey…”
Shortly afterwards, Y/N made large eyes as insane amounts of cash appeared on her bank account. She didn’t believe that Charles actually was rich, especially not that he was an F1 Driver. For Ferrari as well! The Michael Schumacher Ferrari! She was quick to convince however, as a paid vacation like that sounded like a nice idea. They headed to the car dealership which also rented cars.
“Hyundai, again?” Charles complained.
Y/N just stared at him. “I know a guy there, the only spot where they won’t scam you.”
She had picked a car that looked quite similar to hers, just a bit longer with more horsepower. “I don’t like driving big cars. Want some power for the Autobahn though.” Charles whined in Response:” Can’t I drive? Pretty please? I haven't driven a car in a while~”
“Do you currently have a physical license?”
“No”
“Then shut up. I'd lose my license if we were to get caught. My car takes me to work, no options without”
He wanted to pout in response but that had quickly become not an option. The drive was sheer madness. Y/N was running on hopes and energy drinks, pushing the little car to its limit. Charles was gripping every piece of interieur he physically could as she drove at max speed for every stretch she could. Google had estimated the journey to take 13 hours, she shaved off 2 of them. He made a note of never saying that women were the calmer drivers. Blasting loud techno music that turned into a monotonous drone combined with the engine screaming as German countryside flew past him, only interrupted by gas station breaks.
Sweet, sweet silence they proved to be. A heaven of calm, shoved tightly between what most likely was an out-of-body experience.
Then, silence, white doves and heavenly goodness stopped: the return of techno. Y/N throwing the Car around Italy’s shit roads, ignoring all laws of traffic ever created. One goal in Mind: Maranello.
With the crack of dawn and the first worker’s arriving to open the doors, they saw something they had never seen in their long career. A crazed car coming to a full stop, brakes glowing hot directly in front of them. Passenger side flung open and their golden treasure stepping out. Il Predestino had returned, he had risen from the dead. 
And was vomiting against a tree.
“Aren’t you F1 Drivers supposed to be tough or something?”
Charles tiredly leaned against said tree, face free of blood. “We’re tough but not tough like that. I can survive a long ass GP but not 11 hours of insanity”
The crazed driver laughed, her whole body shaking. She approached him, forcefully shaking his hand. “It was nice to get to know you, big boy. I want to go to sleep now, hit me up if you want to visit Germany again.” Y/N shoved a slip of paper between his tightly pressed fingers and walked off as an employee showed her the way. She was to stay somewhere close by as some NDAstuff needed to be handled now.
On the other side, more people were approaching. Charles' friends, the team and the media. Maybe Germany was actually a nice spot to vacation in. Without all the circus going on here. When was the winter break again?
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I pinky promise that i WILL continue this since i wrote it for my friend acexf1 over on YouTube. It's more set-up than anything rn. My other stuff is also getting continuations now!
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vagabond-umlaut · 3 months
Text
meet you where the sky meets the earth
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to love is to listen to your heart, not your brain. to dream whilst in love, is to make your brain listen to your heart.
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▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; former teacher x former student [gojo is six yrs older than reader]; bittersweet fluff; you're so in love w satoru, it shd hurt- but it doesn't because you've grown numb to the ache; one-sided feelings [are they really?]; few mentions of food; gojo calls you 'cookie'; this is way too tender even for me, istg; 1.5k wc
▸ belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna! 😊
▸ the header is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear, the characters used here aren't mine. pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️
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the first time you think of marrying gojo, you're only twenty years old.
hardly the age to be dreaming of wedding bells at, right?
yeah, right. that's very, very right— still, your heart is your heart, just how your brain is your brain, the former easily swaying the latter by a few skipped beats— and you find your cheeks growing warm, laughs stumbling past your lips as you place the box of cornflakes into your shopping cart.
gojo sputters from beside you, eyes comically wide behind his shades as they dart from you to the elderly woman before.
you take a second to compose yourself before answering the ask that created this mess in the first place, a polite smile lining your face, "oh, no– not at all, ma'am! we're not married. i'm just an old friend helping him with the groceries, haha."
"oh," that's the only thing the woman says in reaction, kind smile now a tiny frown before it reappears. and she apologises, "i'm sorry, dears. just thought you two to be newlyweds from how giddy and loving you seemed to each other... time i went for an eye check-up, yes?"
"hey, please don't be sorry..." you start to say, but before you can get any further, the woman has already walked away with her shoppping basket.
you fall silent.
the same way the man next to you too has grown quiet, an awkward silence taking up the foot between you both. until you break it with a strained chuckle.
"we were acting giddy and loving to each other, eh?"
"were we?" comes the contemplative question to your comment. you look up to find gojo looking at you, the blue of his eyes weirdly bright in the dim lights of the supermarket as he repeats, "were we, cookie?"
yes. no. you don't really know—
yes, 'cause you know you love him.
not since forever, no, but close enough to it: your once-fascination for the supposed mortal deity of the jujutsu world, the mitochondrion on which the cellular structure of the society banks to survive; that grew into something made of wonder, respect and fondness, as you slowly came to know not only the icon but also the man behind it; that grew into something so profound, nestling deep within your existence– so much so that you feel the earth shifting on its axis everytime he calls you or grins at you or just looks in your direction—
no, 'cause you know you aren't loved back.
not the way you wish to be... not that you blame gojo for that, though!
you know he is way too busy to be thinking of such topics– what with being the strongest sorcerer ever, the head of the one-man gojo clan, the teacher to the first-years at tokyo high, the legal guardian– but in fact, the father figure to the two kids, 'gumi and 'miki– or maybe, just maybe, he is busy, alright, but not too busy— gojo simply doesn't see you that way; he sees you to be nothing but his former student— one he knows he can rely on to help with his children, or the groceries, or a variety of other menial daily tasks he can just hire help for—
you don't know.
yeah... you really, really don't know– and by now, you think you don't even want to know anymore. it's easy, it's safe, it's nice to remain not knowing. the word 'yes' comes with too many dreams– the word 'no' serves the perfect haven to nightmares.
the three words "i don't know" bear no such burden on their back– an untroubled answer you decide to offer, decide to escape using for the time being— until a slight knock on the head interrupts you, followed by an entertained set of chortles.
you peer up to find gojo beaming down at you, his eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled. something twists in the middle of your chest, but it isn't painful; it's grounding. pleasant, even.
"it's too easy to get you worried, y'know? you're unbelievably easy to manipulate, heh."
"oh, am i now?" you retort, eyes narrowing into a cross glare– only to be betrayed by the fond smile grazing your lips not even a beat later. the man hums, grin simmering down to a knowing smile.
"mmhm," he says with that musical sway to his tone that never fails to make your fingers tingle, "you should have seen your face when i asked you the question– so pale and stiff– almost as if i was asking you to leave then and there, hearing that granny's comments—"
"you would have asked me to, if they were true– wouldn't you?"
gojo's smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. and you think the hand he has stretched out to the shelves of biscuits might fall too– but it does not, and you see him take a packet of your favourite bourbon biscuits followed by a packet of the digestives you've been forcing him to eat, and place them into the cart.
he checks the shopping list in your hand before he looks back at you.
before he smiles back at you: so soft, so solemn, so un-satoru— you instantly regret interrupting him with such a question.
but you do know how it is, don't you? what with a thudding heart and a thinking brain...
the handle of the cart digs deep indents into your palm as you press the weight of your worries into the cool metal and lean towards your companion on this grocery run, the same way a moth flies towards a flame, towards its doom–
"don't you ever dream of falling in love, gojo-san?" you let your voice drop to a murmur, audible only to you and the object of your desires, the subject of your worries, "do you not dream of a happily ever after with your 'one'– do you, gojo-san?"
"no," the response to your words comes in the very same instant. the man's shades slip a touch down the bridge of his nose as he pins his sharp gaze on you– though it can do nothing to hide the mild tremor in his grin from you when he says, "and i don't plan on dreaming ever. dreaming is only for fools with too much time to spare– do i look like a fool with too much time to spare, cookie?"
no. not at all. you don't. you look the farthest from it, in fact— is what you know you should say, and just drop the matter. for now. forever—
but you don't... just don't.
retorting instead, still a murmur but with the faint lick of a fire now, "and what do you suggest should be done to those fools, gojo-san? punished severely for their grievous crime of dreaming, hm?"
"oh, don't be too harsh," he tuts with a breezy chuckle, "what people do is honestly their business; one i've got no interest in interfering in— but..." his grin twists into something wry, a change you find tough to tear your gaze away from, "i don't think i would give such folks the time of my day– it's simply not worth it to talk with those whose feet are not on the solid ground, floating around meaninglessly in air–"
"why are you talking with me then?"
interrupted, gojo blinks. once, and twice, then thrice.
you watch your face crumple in the dark tint of his shades, withering and cracking in the dull light and stale air of this stupid supermarket; but definitely not as stupid as you:
messing things up when they're perfectly fine and alright, only 'cause you do not, rather cannot, keep your mouth shut, no matter what– all your inhibitions let gone of as your heart gains control over your brain and your stupid damned mouth—
you feel a tiny knock on your forehead, the second time this evening, followed by strands of hair being gently brushed away; too careful for your breath to not get stuck in your chest. you peer up at the man in front, teeth lightly gnawing the inside of your lower lip.
gojo's features shift into something between fond and worried– you just hope you aren't misreading him right now– the man tucks those strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.
his fingers still right above your jaw, touching yet not really touching, features finally, finally, settling into a smile– "maybe because i enjoy talking with you, cookie, no matter how foolish you are."
some people say, marriage is a holy act, a sacred institution, in and of itself— connecting hearts, binding souls– cementing the promises of staying together forever... whilst few see marriage to be meaningless— paltry affair of papers and signatures and people, none bearing any significance, 'cause nothing can, not when it comes to the matters of the hearts, neither in proving nor in disproving them–
no matter what people think, you think you will be okay, irrespective of whether you marry gojo or not, irrespective of whether gojo loves you or not– provided– and this is a weird, still important 'provided'—
you and he end up shopping together in the supermarket, feeling and seeming so happy and comfortable with each other— others mistake you for a pair of newlyweds, blissfully deep in love.
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tysm to my dearest andy [@andysdrafts], mimi [@avatarofstars] & dilay [@roseqzpd] for constantly motivating me while i was writing this. ilysm my darlings 😘😘😘
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insidetheravensmind · 9 months
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𝐌𝐲 𝐉𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝
18+ | For Mature Audiences Only
Pairing: Siren Hyunjin X AFAB Reader Genre: smut, pirate/siren AU, slight yandere themes !!WARNINGS!! yandere themes, cream pie, making out, doing it from the back, facefucking/intense blowjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation/slight dumbifcation, DOM HYUNJIN, SUB READER, reader gets super fucked out. I think that's all, but I'm bad at warnings. Also, there is slight control over the mind, but everything is consensual! Word Count: 7,222 Requested: Yes! Author's Note: I used several references while writing this including Pirates of the Caribbean, H2O Just Add Water (literally only the moonpool/grotto area, that's what the scene is based on), and the faces I envision the sirens having is basically the vampire faces in "The Vampire Diaries." I also watched One Piece while writing this. Avatar (James Cameron) also inspired the mermaid/siren sex biology. (When they use their hair to touch and that's sex, yeah I did something like that). Reader is a pirate that basically only uses pirate slang around her crew, besides that she talks normal. I figured the pirate slang would get annoying to y'all, so I kept it own. I hope you like it! I'll be transparent, this fic is the only one I've ever questioned and been tempted to re-write a few times. I'd love to write something like this again, but I do need to practice. Synopsis: You're a pirate captain that's looking for sirens and mermaids, but what happens when you attack the enemies, and a beautiful siren takes you away for himself? Check out my Stray Kids Masterlist Support me by buying me a coffee ☕️
EDIT AFTER POSTING: Y'all be making me blush and shit with your feedback. I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3<3<3
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For hundreds of years people have roamed the oceans. From sailors on ships to the deadliest pirates of the seven seas, the treacherous waters have taken many lives, not only to the water itself, but the unknown dangers of what lies beneath its surface.    
Stories of many kinds have stumbled their way out of survivors and drunken deadbeats. What they saw at sea or what they heard from someone else, anything was plausible in this kind of world. If it came from someone’s mouth, it was bound to be true in one or another. No one can ever be careful enough, so it was better to take everything as truth. Even the most ridiculous sounding claims shouldn’t have been taken lightly. 
You were the captain of a large pirate ship named The Corruption. You weren’t the most feared pirate known to man, but you were certainly amongst them. You were the only pirate willing to tread where others never came back from. You had faced the Kraken, not killing it, for your adventure only called to find where it rested to avoid crossing near the area at all costs. You faced several other sea monsters, whether they were larger than three ships or nearly as small as a minnow. In this place, the unknown were considered monsters until proven friendly. You and your crew were one of the reasons the unknown creatures were given names in the first place. 
People often wondered about the name of your ship, The Corruption. As far as anyone knew, you weren’t one looking for a good or quick fuck like anyone else when drunk, stressed, or just plain horny. Anyone who would have ever heard your name knew you were one of the bravest captains in the known lands, but they also knew you weren’t one to hurt. 
You were known for finding creatures but never hurting them. You never forced your crew to walk the plank or make a sacrifice. You were feared for confidence and bravery, not unjust corruption like other pirates. The name of the ship didn’t make sense. How could you, a captain so understanding, sail a ship with an unfit name? Everyone wondered. But you knew. Only you. Only you had the actual mindset to understand why it would be given such a name, and it was simple: Those who sail on it are corrupted by the wonders, those who sail on it live to tell the tales, and thus are corrupted by the truthfulness filled in the sea. They were not killed, they survived intentionally, as long as the captain had any say in it. 
Though there was no reason to fear you, people were still terrified because you were willing to explore what others wouldn’t dare go near. You didn’t take shit from anyone. Your very presence, the kind that was filled with confidence, your willingness to look anyone in the eye, and you could get anyone to tell the truth. You could read a lie from nautical miles away. 
This next voyage of yours was not the most dangerous, but somehow it scared the crew and anyone new willing to sign up. You were on the search for something that was only legend. Nothing proven, no one alive to tell the tale, and it was strictly based on sightings, no real interactions. For years there had been narratives of half fish, half humans swimming by ships quickly, like they were doing their best to not be seen. Oftentimes the quick glimpses made were described as beautiful women, long hair flowing down their backs and breasts out with no cover. The Englishmen called them “mermaids.” 
You wanted to see them for yourself. It was what you did: searched for the tales, or in this case tails, to prove they were real, and if they’re dangerous and how to avoid them. But you questioned why they were so afraid of beautiful maidens that swam along beside them. 
Annoyed by everyone’s lack of commitment, you rounded up your crew and anyone else interested in the voyage. 
“What the hell is wrong with this lily-livered crew? You wanna sail, especially on my ship, you’re gonna get the hell on and go. What happened to me swashbucklers?! You have faced the kraken and you’re all scared to go hunt for half fish half humans? Now, all hands hoay!” 
Your crew didn’t move, barely budged actually, they just blinked at you. Until one man stepped forward and spoke up. 
“Captain, we don’t mean to seem like landlubbers, but rumor has it these mermaids ain’t that friendly. Says they sing with perfect pitch and harmony to lure anyone to their deaths, then snack on them like we’re a hearty meal. We ain’t wanna die to the hands of lust, ya hear?”
In disbelief by such words and rumors you had to understand it was important to be cautious. This wasn’t the type of journey you could just set sail for, it seemed there were more obstacles. You had to come up with more of a plan than a simple aboard ship and sail off. 
“If these ‘maids are so dangerous then why is it they swim by our ships without going in for a snack, aye?”
Another mate spoke up to answer your question. 
“Captain, it’s been said that they could be related but they ain’t the same creature, savvy? Rumors been calling the ones who sing ‘Sirens’ instead of mermaids. They look the same, but they await on shores singing to lure them whereas mermaids are friendly, helpful fellows.”
“Ya sound like you’re three sheets to the wind. Where’d you hear this scuttlebutt?”
“Came from an old seadog, Captain Rattles, Captain.” 
You thought for a moment. Captain Rattles was one hell of a source, to be honest. He sailed the seas for decades, every warning he ever came about ended up to be true. Never once had he lied to crews and captains. He was a pirate to behold, really. 
“Fine. I’m gonna have a meeting with Rattles to figure out a plan. Then all of you are boarding my ship, or else you’re gonna find yourselves lovers with the hempen halter. Savvy?” 
“Aye aye, Captain!”
And the mates scurried off while you made your way to the old tavern where Rattles always seemed to be. It was time to figure out what you were gonna do with the ole hearties. It was annoying to you though. They were willing to die by a giant octopus and not a pretty girl. Typical pirates looking down on women. 
Later that night you found yourself seated next to Rattles with a notebook to take notes on anything he had to say. 
“I remember encountering them for the first time. We heard a beloved voice and heard it coming from a distance. We saw a mermaid. She turned on her back and swam while her mouth opened. The song came from her. We were all entranced. We followed through a fog until her song became a screech. Her face contorted, and her teeth became sharp fangs. The fog dissipated. Then there was a colony of them. They looked so peaceful in the water, until they all did the same thing. They began to attack. It didn’t help that the ship was smaller. I barely escaped. Only me and two others got out. Everyone else was ripped apart in front of us or dragged into the water where the carnage was hidden. We aren’t sure if there were survivors. We aren’t sure if sirens and mermaids are different or if one makes the other. There are so many things we don’t know, but no one should trust a half fish, half human. It’s not safe. We need someone to figure it out. We need you to figure it out.” 
“I know. I want to. My crew is scared.”
“Come on, Captain. Let’s figure this out.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
That night over drinks the both of you came up with a plan. You and the crew needed to wear cloth in your ears to prevent the sound of songs from working. You needed to stack on weapons, ready to attack back. You all needed to pretend that the song was working. The plan was to sail east off the island. That’s where they accidentally found the cove they named “Libido’s Lounge.” It was noted that there weren’t just women, there were men as well. Even those who didn’t fancy men still fell under the spell, and vice versa.  
A few weeks passed by while you gathered the supplies you all needed for the voyage. It was dangerous, and those who began to board knew that. Even you, the bravest of adventurers, were slightly trembling as you boarded last. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you had a gut feeling this was not going to end well. You wanted to cancel it because you’ve never had a gut feeling like this before, but it was too late. You had to go through with it. 
“Anchors aweigh! Better get your sea legs in quick because we’re in for a ride!”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
The escapade took a few weeks. The bad feeling in your stomach grew worse. Some days you could barely walk, the anxiety crumbling you. Your head had shooting pains that grew worse the closer The Corruption got to Libido’s Lounge. The crew noticed, but they refused to say anything. It's never good to doubt the captain, especially when they’re in this position of danger with no one else to lead them out. 
Dark grew over the horizon as the sun hid itself. The ship continued to sail onwards until a crew member looked over the deck and saw a beautiful face emerge from the water. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her fondly. The way her face was beautifully carved made him feel butterflies, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d been living off of rum for a while. A crew member next to him noticed his gaze followed towards the girl. He quickly ran towards you to alert you that you’d reached the cove. 
“Alert the crew to get the cloth in their ears, now. Get Barbins over there out of that trance or he’s gonna be feeding the fishes.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Without a second to lose he began to round up the crew one by one to let them know the plan needed to go into full effect now. They plugged their ears with cloth. 
“Hey, Barbins.” The man whispered. 
Irritated, he turned to face him. 
“What is it?”
“Cloth, now. Captain said so. Or you’re gonna be dinner for them.” 
“Gyah, whatever!”
He stuffed his ears quickly before facing the pretty girl again. She smiled, and he smiled back. You noticed this. She began to swim away, and you quickly alerted the crew to follow her. You grabbed a hold of the wheel and spun it to change direction. Through the mist you blindly followed the girl. 
“Oi! Be ready for anything. The second her face turns ugly, start attacking!”
The mist cleared and water grew shallower. There was a clearing filled with the most beautiful faces ever seen. You glared at them as they opened their mouths and began to sing. Through the cloth, all of you could hear the song, but you were hoping it stopped the hypnotic way it enchanted the ears. They all stared at the ship while they harmonized their song. But you couldn’t see any men. Your father had told you there would be men, but there were none here. They were all beautiful girls, you could admit to that. You saw the attraction, and you understood the danger of their beauty. 
You looked to see Barbins jumping off the ship. You were stunned. What was he doing? 
“Man overboard! Start the attack, now!” 
WIth a yell the men began to shoot at the water, and the creatures became angry. Soon they lunged at the ship, managing to grab hold of the crew and dragging them down to the depths. There were way more of them than you had crew, and you knew there’d be more to come. 
Honestly, you lost your depth. Your stomach grew more knots as you watched the bloodshed. There was going to be no survivors by the look of it. Your head felt full and heavy. Your vision became blurry. Your legs felt weak. The epitome of this dreadful feeling somehow worsened when you got to the clearing, and it hurts even more now, like the source of it is getting closer. 
You began to back away from the wheel when you felt yourself hit the back of someone’s chest. You wanted to turn around, but you couldn’t move. Two arms arose to your ears on both sides of your head and pulled the cloth out of them. Then one arm wrapped around your throat and put you in a chokehold while lips quietly sung in your ear. 
“Dead men tell no tales.
Ugly men raid our seas
So we tear their sails
And hear their begging pleas.” 
A mate saw you in danger, so he began to run towards you. The figure who grasped you hissed at him while his eyes shriveled, veins protruded, and fangs threatened. The mate didn’t back down, so the stranger put you down and lunged at him. He quickly sank his fangs into his shoulder and tore a bite right through him. The mate cried before he was pushed overboard. 
You tried to flee in the distraction, but you weren’t fast enough. Furious at your attempt to escape he continued to sing as he stalked towards you. 
“Dead men tell no tales,
But you my sweet 
Are beautiful as my scales
You’ll stick around as my treat.”
He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward the ship’s main deck. You were confused by the man’s ability to walk if he seemed to be the same creature as the ones in the water. Your head hurt too much to fully wrap the idea in your brain. Another mate tried to go for the enemy, but he was knocked to the ground. 
“W-what is g-g-going on?” You tried to speak, but you only stuttered the words. 
“My name is Hyunjin, and you attacked my kind. That does not go without punishment.”
He pushed you overboard into the water before diving in right behind you. You swam to the surface as best as you could until you were pulled underwater by Hyunjin. His legs were gone, and they were replaced with an abstract tail. It was a warm brown color with hints of crimson red and golden yellow. Though he was a being that belonged to the sea, his tale resembled fire with its colors and extension fins like that of a betta fish. The colors felt inviting. 
He placed a kiss on your lips which then gave you the ability to breathe without worry. You tried to fight against him, but once he began to sing with his beautiful voice you were lost again. You stared blankly at him as he took your hand and swam away with you, leaving the war to finish itself without guidance. 
Hyunjin swam towards a vacant grotto where he laid your body on a rocky surface. The grotto was his secret hideaway. The only life around it were the fishes and the plants that danced in the water. Hyunjin kept his tail in the water while he laid his arms on the rock staring at your unconscious body. He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that captivated his attention. Your breathing was calm, you felt lost. You couldn’t think proper thoughts, and you were lost in a void where there was everything and nothing at the same time. 
He wasn’t sure what it was. There was something about the way you lead your ship through the mist, thinking you were being strategic, but he stalked behind the ship the entire time. He grabbed onto the side of the ship, beginning to climb his way onto it and watching the scenes unfold. He noticed you were teetering while you ordered your crew around. He could tell you weren’t entirely there. There was a feeling in his stomach that made him want to help. He felt compelled to aid you. He wasn’t sure if it was your bravery for willingly going where every man fears or if it was because you were the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Even though he was and lived amongst a species that matched the beauty of gods on earth, no one looked as beautiful as you. 
He was supposed to be the one who lured people into his trap. That was what being a siren was about. He wouldn’t sing so beautifully if it wasn’t for that. Even before he was trapped in this cursed body, women would swoon over his artwork. Every woman would look at him lustfully, some of them were quite attractive, but no one was ever able to catch his eye. So, why are you, some pirate trying to kill off his kind, making him feel ways he has never felt before? That wasn’t fair. That defeated the point of all of this! 
He found himself caressing your head softly, staring at the way the water soaked clothes clung to your body accentuating every nook and cranny of it. His body tingled in ways it hadn’t in awhile. Excitement filled his face while he watched you breathe steadily. There was something about the way you were under his spell, under his control, that turned his brain to goo. His mouth began to water, his face felt hot, and his head started to ache at the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to touch you and make you scream his name, but instead of begging for mercy to live you’re begging to have him touch you more and more. The thought alone made him groan. 
You began to wake up from your hypnotic state, stirring slightly, eyes blurry, blinking back to reality only to be met with the high ceilings of a cave and an uncomfortable pain in your back from lying on dirt. Human nature made you want to bolt upright and run, but your pirate nature wanted you to remain calm, find a plan, and escape danger without causing a disaster. You laid there, eyes open, trying to avoid the small sounds of splashing water and the glaring gaze of your captor’s eyes digging into the side of your head attempting to read your thoughts. 
“I know you’re awake, Captain.” He taunts you with your title. “For the Captain of a ship, you’re certainly pretty inferior and weak right now.”
You grunt at his comment, starting to haul yourself up to find a way out of this mess. As you stand, you’re immediately stopped when a blissful tone reaches your ears, and once again, you don’t have control over your own body. You can feel it. You can feel yourself wanting to resist but being unable. Hyunjin speaks.
“Ah ah ah, darling. Lay back down. We are not finished here. I told you that you’d be punished.”
His words made chills sprint across your spine. Your cold, goosebumped covered body felt warm from nothing, and you felt yourself melt back to the ground. You turned your head towards his, and he lifted himself out of the water and hovered over you when his tail became two long, clothed legs. He looked at you too, and you daringly stared into his eyes. Within them you saw lust and desire, nothing more and nothing less. Well, there was something more, but you couldn’t decipher it. 
Hyunjin bent down and crouched next to you, cupping your cheek and gently caressing his thumb over reddening skin. He stared into your eyes, reading them, finding your scrambled thoughts. 
“You need to be good and listen to me. I can’t keep making you listen to me by using my voice, but if you make me, then I will. Am I understood, Captain? Nod your head if you understand, pretty girl.” 
You nodded your head. You did understand, but the nodding of your head was not on your own free will. His touch made you burn more. There was something about his over looming presence that made you feel small. One thing you always hated was the belittling you dealt with when it came to being a woman in a pirate’s life. Always trying to act above you when you know damn well it’s for their own ego. However, Hyunjin was alluring to you, equally as much as you were to him. There was something about his confidence and dominance that made you horny instead of angry. Maybe it was because it wasn’t his ego talking, it was just who he was. He knew he was in control here, and that’s why he didn’t feel nervous around you. The other men who made comments towards you always ended up being the weakest. Not Hyunjin though, nothing about him seemed submissive. 
The horrible feeling in your stomach never subsided. It grew even more in the position you laid in, and you started to wonder if the wetness in your panties is more than the wetted undergarments from being dragged through the sea like a monster’s prey. Maybe the horrible feeling in your stomach was just your gut feeling telling you to get dicked, and there was something about the nearing presence that made the feeling grow. 
Sirens, you think to yourself, are lust filled devils that overwhelm one’s desires when they approach them. Their songs do not force falsified love into someone, but overpowers their primal desires more than they can bear, weakening them, and taking them as food. But why do they want to hurt us, and the sighted mermaids want to help us?
Hyunjin sang another tune, but it made the hypnotic effect wear off, almost like an anecdote. You didn’t move, too afraid for your body to not be your own anymore. 
“Tell me, Captain, do you want me?” He asked boldly. 
You looked him deep in his eyes. You wanted to deny it, you really did, but just as they claimed, he was as beautiful as they came, more than likely the most perfect one, even beating the gods’ beauty. You wanted him in many ways, and he wanted you all the same. Like the bold pirate you were, you spoke up. 
“Yes, I do. Do you want me?”
“Yes, surprisingly I do.” He wasn’t lying. You knew it, you could read lies, and even if it was in his powers to be able to lie without getting caught, this seemed too desiring to him. His breathing was barely steady at the start. He was struggling to hold back. 
He moved to plant himself between your legs and then moved his hand to your neck and applied pressure to the sides of it carefully, taking away some air, but not a lot. You gasped, trying to take back all the air he cut off but failed. 
“It actually pisses me off how much I want you. Do you know what I’m supposed to do with invasive pests like you?” He leans in closer. 
“I’m supposed to rip you apart, limb from limb, and drag you down in the deep to eat you…”
He comes closer, grip tightening, his mouth right to yours, hovering above it just barely. 
“But something in me, something about you, makes me want to rip you apart for my own sake, and I want to hear you cry my name while I do.”
He releases your neck and puts his lips to yours. As he makes contact, you kiss back. He isn’t sweet with it, you aren’t either. His kiss is rough, teeth hooking onto your bottom lip and tongue prodding its way into your mouth while he uses one hand to hold himself up and the other to roughly massage your breast while he rolls his hips between your legs to give your clit the smallest bit of tension. He rolls over with a rhythm, enough to make you let out small, pleading whimpers. He smiled, hearing you fall apart on nothing when he’s just begun. 
He moves, and he begins to peel off the damp clothes from your body. You want to shiver, you want to be cold when your entire naked body is exposed to the elements, but it only burns. You can barely think, and it’s no longer the lack of air’s fault or Hyunjin’s songs. It’s just how horny you are for this angelically handsome devil. He takes off the rags that hide him as well. The sight of his slightly toned chest and thin stomach fills you with more desire than before. Then he removes his pants, and that makes your pussy throb the most. 
He leans back down to you, except he faces your core, and leans in for a meal. The spit from his tongue meeting your untouched folds makes you shudder, and you grab his hair and pull him closer on instinct. His tongue licks in and out of your vagina and messily makes his way to your clit where he sucks on it and nips on it slightly. Your sensitivity is so intense that you feel yourself leak a bit more over his face. He continues his assault on your clit while his hand makes his way to tease around your hole before entering one finger, and a few thrusts later adding a second. 
“Hyunjin, fuck-” You moan while he continues his actions. He takes his mouth off of your clit for a moment to say, “Good girl.” You gush at the nickname and turn your head to the side to hide from how excitedly the praise made you feel. 
The knot in your stomach was ready to be untied. Your quiet whimpers and moans got louder and increased, which signaled him to pick up the pace a little faster. 
“Whenever you’re ready. Just sail with the wind, Captain.” 
As soon as he said that, you released onto him and rode out your high as he calmed his movements before pulling away. Your eyes felt heavy, your body felt relaxed, but you didn’t want to stop there. Hyunjin didn’t either. You fell limply onto your back when Hyunjin moved himself from you. 
“Hey, there, pirate, we aren’t done with this voyage of ours yet.”
Looking down at you, he bent down and picked you up by your hips, moving you to sit in front of a rock on your knees. The rock was at your eye level. Hyunjin sat on top of the rock. He slightly flinched at the coolness of the rock against his ass, but he warmed up to it quickly. He spread his legs, leaving his dick out, and the perfect space for you to crawl in and suck him off. You stared at his long, hard dick while it waited for attention. 
“Hey, princess,” Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Get to it.”
You crawled to him on your knees, head bowing down in embarrassment, but Hyunjin grabbed the roots of your head and pulled you close to his dick. “Open.” And you did. You opened your mouth wide and took him in while he kept his hold on your roots for physical control. You bobbed your head up and down, moving your hand up to grab what you couldn’t reach, but Hyunjin stopped you. 
“You’re a Captain, aren’t you? Using your mouth to bark orders all day? Not to mention how much you unhinged your jaw to take me. If your pretty mouth can do those things, then you can suck my whole cock without taking a shortcut with your hands.” He pushed your head all the way on his cock, making you gag, but he ignored it. He kept this up, barely letting you breathe. All he did was assault your throat with each thrust making him groan at your warm, wet walls that felt like heaven’s touch. You could feel your throat become sore, but you honestly didn’t want to stop him. There was something about the way he sounded and his control over you that made you want to please him forever. 
Not long later, his groaning increased and became louder. He was going to cum soon, and you could tell when he pushed your head into cock faster. 
“Fuck!” He moaned when he felt cum spurt from his tip. He calmed his pushing, but he made you keep your mouth around his cock until he was fully finished, then he withdrew himself and forced you to swallow all of it. 
Drool was falling down your chin, your jaw and throat hurt, your scalp was slightly burning, but your eyes were glazed over, wanting even more of him. You felt like you were floating, the pain in your body making your pussy wetter. Even though you felt like Hyunjin was controlling your body with the way he used you like a toy, a new melody filled in your ears making the ache in your body reside. Each tune he sang seemed to do a different thing, but each of them were helpful in the situation you found yourself in. This tune didn’t put you in his control, but it rather settled you to be comfortable for what he was going to do next. 
Hyunjin stood up and looked down at you while you remained on your knees. He brought his hand underneath your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. 
“Tell me your name.” He spoke. His tone was stern. It wasn’t like the way he spoke before, this was a hard command. You weren’t sure why he was so stern about your name and not the intense oral sex you performed on him moments ago.  
“It’s Syrena.” You lie. 
Hyunjin grips your chin tighter and glares daggers at you. 
“You’re lying. Tell me your name.” 
“Ariel.” 
Hyunjin pushed your head to the side harshly before bending down and grabbing you by the base of your neck and forcing you to look at him again. This time he’s much closer. He’s more intimidating this way, and you feel your stomach jump. 
“Lie to me again, and see what happens. Tell me your name or I will leave you here to die.”
“My name is Y/N. Captain Y/N.” 
“Now was that so hard, Y/N?” You glared at him, tempted to rip out of his grasp and kill him on the spot, but you didn't. You stayed put because your sinful temptations were getting the best of you. 
“Captain, Y/N.” You corrected him. Even though he’s been calling you pet names since you got there, now you were starting to grow tired of his taunting and teasing. You let him have his fun, but now you wanted your respect back. However, you were basically willing to do anything for him to fuck you at this point, but you didn’t want to admit that. 
“No, no, no,” He paused, lifting you by your hips again and sitting himself back on the rock. “You are no captain to me.” He sat you slightly on his lap, grabbing his dick and teasing your clit. Your arms were wrapped around his neck to keep you up. The feeling made you whine loudly. He smirked, slowly pushing his head into your soaked cunt until his long length was fully inside you. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened without control as you let out of the loudest moan you could muster. He used his hand to bring you back to face him and look into his piercing gaze again. Your mouth stayed open, moaning with each small thrust he gave as he pushed himself into you, but keeping most of his dick inside you. 
“You are just a pathetic, cock-hungry, submissive, girl.” He said between his small thrusts. 
“H-h-hyunjin, please.” You plead. He gives an evil smile and lets go of your neck making it fall back again. He stood up, holding onto you, bringing you off of his cock almost entirely before harshly thrusting himself back inside. You couldn’t control your reaction, even if you tried. You screamed in pleasure, the noises echoing off the grotto’s walls. He continued to plow into you, but it was enough to ensure it was pleasurable for the both of you and not just his own selfishness. 
“Hyunjin! I can’t- Fuck!” You moaned. 
“Yes, you can. Fucking take it.” He growled, fucking into you harder. 
“Ah- I can’t, please!” The pleasure was insane, impossible to describe. Then, again, there was another new melody that rang through your brain, and you felt like you were floating. You were able to take whatever he gave you without worry, but the pleasure somehow doubled. Your eyes were oceans with the way the tears spilled from them each moment he didn’t stop. But everything was bliss. Everything was perfect. You felt more relaxed and calm than you ever had before. 
Hyunjin switched the positions you were in, lying your stomach against the rock, and your ass in the hair where he entered you from behind and held onto you by your head fucking into you even deeper. 
“My little pirate taking the cock of her enemy.” You wanted to correct him, tell him that your intention was to learn about them, not to hurt them, but that thought left your mind as soon as you had it. You couldn’t think. You were almost brain dead, only being able to feel everything he was giving you and more. 
“I’m gonna cum soon!” You managed to choke out. 
“Fuck, baby, me too.” He groaned back. 
“Ah, Hyunjin, please, I can’t hold it.” 
“Just a little bit. I’ll tell you when you can cum.” His stern voice was back, there was no choice whether you did or didn’t on your own terms. 
He moved out of you for a brief moment and turned you around to face him. Quickly and carefully he picked you up and thrusted his cock into you. You shoved your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and biting him to bare the orgasm building inside you. 
“Can I please-”
“Yes.”
As soon as you released, Hyunjin did too, fucking his cum into you while you moaned. He found your lips and kissed you while slowly walking towards the moonpool of water and allowed himself to fall in with you while you kissed him lustfully and passionately, and he did the same. 
In the water, you were lost, eyes open, but not having control. Hyunjin’s presence was not absent from you, but you still felt sexual pleasure. You weren’t sure how. 
Hyunjin was in front of you, facing you, and smirking. You looked at him, confused as to how you weren’t sinking without him holding you and without swimming. Then you realized you couldn’t feel your legs. You looked down, and your legs were replaced with a shining mermaid’s tale and extensions of a betta fish, just like Hyunjin’s, right in front of you. You noticed one betta fin of yours and his were connected. That was where the pleasure was located. 
You wanted to scream and cry. Hyunjin could tell, so he came closer to you. He held your face in his hands again, stroked your cheeks gently, and leaned in to kiss you. You happily kissed back. Within the midst of your kiss, your tails intertwined with the other, and you felt like you were floating again, but this time it wasn’t Hyunjin’s range of melodies, it was a tone that felt like love. You felt whole and safe. You didn’t freak out about the mermaid tale that now lined your body. 
Hyunjin moved away from your lips, grabbed your hand, and swam you towards the surface of the water. After breaking the surface, you began to speak, but he stopped you. “Don’t freak out. You will be fine.” 
The second his tail was entirely out of the water, he had legs again, and he helped you out of the water where the same thing happened to you. Hyunjin grabbed you again, and held you into his lap bridal style while leaning against a rock. He looked at you, and you looked at him. 
“Humans can’t have sex with mermaids or sirens without turning into one of us. It was a curse put on both humans and merfolk such as ourselves years ago when a human and a mermaid fell in love. However, a jealous sea witch grew envious of their relationship, and put a curse on mermaids that they’d become lust filled demons that killed humans that came near, and anytime a human had sex with one, their curse was to become them too.”
You looked at him dumbfounded. 
“What the fuck?” is the only thing you can muster. 
Hyunjin laughed and explained more in depth. 
“I wasn’t always like this. I was a human too. In fact I was a painter whom all the ladies fell in love over. I adored it. I adored their attention. One day, while I painted by the seaside, I heard a beautiful noise come from the water. I discovered a boy peeking out of the water. He extended his arm to me, I gave him my hand, and he pulled me in. Then, things escalated, and now I’m like this.”
“But I still don’t understand the mermaids and sirens thing. And why’d you have to do this to me? What the hell.” You felt a lot of emotions, but you weren’t as mad at being a siren than you thought you’d be. Depending on the conditions, being part fish could help yourself as a pirate captain.
“I barely understand myself, but I’ll try to explain more. It used to only be mermaids. That was it. Mermaids are beautiful creatures that swim in the sea and have beautiful voices that can do all sorts of things like lure people in and make them feel better. However, mermaids were never inherently evil. Their songs were meant to lure people in for good things, like steering life away from dangerous areas. However, the sea witch’s jealousy got the best of her. She wanted to be the one the human fell in love with, but instead it was someone else. Blinded by rage, she cursed any mermaid who dared fall into the lust trap. Oftentimes mermaids are used to resemble purity because of this, and they distract themselves from carelessly falling into anything that can change that. The sirens curse, it wasn’t just motivated sex, it was killing anyone who tried because the lust was so strong. When the mermaid was first turned into this monster, she kissed his neck, but began to rip it apart. The sexual desires began to settle after the fact, like killing someone brought down the hunger. No one has been able to find an alternative. As for me turning you… I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you there was something about you I needed. It ached, in ways I couldn’t explain, and I knew you felt it too.”
You stared blankly at him in disbelief. Then you spoke up. 
“We weren’t coming to hurt you. My pirate ship is more of a learning experience. We discover things in the sea and tell others about it. We don’t harm anything, we just teach ourselves. Granted we know how to defend ourselves in an attack, but we came to study the mermaids, and we ended up in a killing trap. Now all of my men are dead.” Your voice turned cold by the end, just remembering the bloodshed of the battle you were ripped from for no reason. 
“But you began to attack, don’t deny that.” 
“It was self defense. We knew you were going to do something.” 
“I don’t doubt that. Even though I haven’t always been a siren, I can’t sit back and watch my newkind get slaughtered. I will defend them, and now you will too. You’ll learn to.” 
“Hyunjin, I didn’t want any of this.”
“But you were so beautiful, I had to have you. You’re mine; you belong to me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so off balance when I’m around, just like a bit ago when you lost everything the second I was completely near you. I hadn’t even started singing.”
He was right. You knew it too. He was the reason you felt off. He was the reason you were off balance and off guard and off everything. Now he’s the reason you’re part fish. 
“You can go back to being a pirate captain, if you so please, but I am so deeply infatuated with you, I couldn’t bear you to go. I don’t ever want you to leave me, Y/N.”
It was the way he stared deeply into your eyes that made you melt. There was no convincing melody of his to convince you to stay, though you must’ve had that too now if you were one of them. But his eyes, his pleading, and the slight fear you had of him kept you put on his lap. 
“Come, my treasure, explore the ocean with me.” He said, standing you up, and bringing you to the water, jumping in with you, grabbing your hand, and swimming off. 
Your tail made you swim as a pace that was hard to comprehend. You were out of the grotto and near the island you sailed off of in minutes rather than the days of voyage you spent. Hyunjin showed you all about the water, pointing out friends and foe, things to eat, ways to improve your life as a merfolk. 
Down in the water, the two of you faced the other where your betta fins touched, bringing you closer into a kiss. The two of you chased each other around, creating tiny waves in the water as you playfully messed around. 
Resurfacing from the water and staring at Hyunjin, he sang, 
“My heart is pierced by Cupid.
I disdain all glittering gold.
There is nothing can console me,
But my jolly sailor bold.” 
You smiled, happy to hear this song that he sang often. He sang it about you.
But little did you know, that song is the only reason you stayed with him.
Hyunjin found you perfect, so beautiful that he couldn’t let you go. He knew you would've left the second you had the chance, but he can’t let someone he’s besotted by go, so he’ll do what he can to keep you around a little longer. I mean, he did tell you that bullshit story about sirens and mermaids. Had he been turned into a siren by a boy with a freckled covered face? Yes. Was that witchy nonsense true? Of course not. But if you believed him, who cared? He turned you into a siren on his own, so he could keep you around forever. He was going to have you no matter what.
You are his treasure, not any of the pirates, his.
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andreafmn · 11 months
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Speak | Chapter 11
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Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: emotional abuse, foul language, bodily harm
Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.
A/N: wanted to make this chapter longer, but I'm leaving the comfort/fluff for the next chapter. Now, onto the only story y'all care about 😉😉(jk jk)
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It had been a whole week of romantic bliss. At least in (Y/N)’s opinion. Something had finally clicked inside Jacob. Somehow, he’d finally understood what it meant to be a boyfriend. A surprising turn of events in his behavior from the past two weeks.
Jake had been the kind and caring boy she had fallen for many years before. He’d taken her out on a couple of spontaneous dates, he’d filled her with loving words, and not once did he make her question if they were meant to be together.
One. Whole. Week.
And she hoped it would last. (Y/N) hoped it would remain that way for as long as it could. Even with all the secrets between them. Sure, she had to wait until the late hours of the day to talk to Paul. Spending hours on the phone as she had done with Jake in the beginning, learning the smallest intricacies of his personality. Everything that made him him.
(Y/N) couldn’t stop the giddiness that filled her veins every time the phone rang. There was a pull to the boy that she did not understand. Something mystical that tugged at her heartstrings and sang the song of Paul Lahote. But she was too scared to answer that call, to listen to the chords that made up his name. How could her heart call to someone she hardly knew? How could she want someone else when she had spent so many years beating for another? 
There was a complexity to her feelings that she could not decipher. Her head told her it was delusion. That she had only begun to gravitate toward Paul when Jake and she had hit their first obstacle. And although that obstacle had yet to be removed –Bella was always a lingering presence in everyone’s life—(Y/N) was seeing a way through it. Paul had been kind and comforting in a time when –even if she could not admit it—she was scared of Jake, petrified by his anger. The girl simply couldn’t bring herself to believe it could be anything more than that. She simply wouldn’t.
Jacob Black was it for her, she could almost bet her life on it.
Well, only for the time things were good. ‘
But (Y/N) seemed to forget from her time in Forks that things never remained the same for too long. Laughter died, the sun stopped shining, and Jacob’s painted-on mask could shatter in a split second.
School had started in the rez as well as in Forks. Teenagers spilled into the halls of the high school, mutterings about their winter vacations muddling into each other. It made (Y/N)’s heart beat faster to be around other students once more. Two years had passed since she had been inside a physical school and she had grown accustomed to her mother and a slow computer to be her teachers. She felt odd and out of place and wondered how Bella had felt walking through these very walls only a year prior to her. And she could have asked her. Her older sister was walking right beside her and she could have asked her if the staring ever died down, or if feeling nervous was normal.
Alas, Bella would not have answered, and (Y/N) was resigned to keeping those questions buried deep within her. Her sister was out of her room and in the school, and that was all she could ask for. The zombie-like girl guided her to the office, where she was met with a red-haired woman with a bright smile.
“Well, it seems the Swan duo is finally complete,” she said. Her glasses slid off her nose slightly as she looked at (Y/N) through the top of the spectacles. “I’ve got your schedule right here. And though I’m sure Bella will show you around, I’ve added a map of the school as well with the best routes to get to your classes.”
“Uh, thanks,” (Y/N) forced a smile as she felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She expected to be known in the school, but she never thought that it would feel so invasive. “This is very helpful.”
“Of course, (Y/N),” she smiled. “Can’t believe just last year I was giving your sister a similar folder.”
“Yeah, time sure does fly.”
During the whole encounter, Bella remained stoic and quiet. Her ever-present sorrow hung over both of them like the darkest clouds that frequently adorned the Washington sky. The older Swan was there, but it would have been the same as though she was not there. The plant in the corner of the office held more life than her sister currently did.
And that was how the rest of the day went. (Y/N)’s hours passed and it felt like she was the only Swan in that school. Long gone was the novelty of Isabella, instead replaced by the freshness of her little sister. Everywhere she walked, eyes followed her. There was nowhere she could go that others wouldn’t question her regarding her life in Arizona and Florida before transitioning the conversation into Bella’s heartbreak condition. Even during lunchtime, when her older sister was sitting right next to her, her friends asked (Y/N) how she was doing.
(Y/N) wasn’t sure what she should have expected when she had gotten to school. But she definitely did not enjoy having to be her sister’s spokesperson. A small part of her wanted her to be the real center of attention, not just the vessel of information regarding Bella. If someone had asked her she would have said that the only reason she had been accepted at the high school was to make sure her sister didn’t fall apart during one of her classes.
Though she did meet new people as the week went by, it felt just like it had when they had been growing up. (Y/N) was not her separate entity; she was just Bella’s little sister. And she feared that’s all she would ever be. It made her feel shallow and a bit vain to want everyone’s attention, to hope that others gravitated toward her because of who she was rather than who she was related to.
Back home, it was no different. As the Swan sisters walked into the house, Charlie was quick to ask how the day went. But his eyes were trained on his oldest daughter. Especially as the girl disappeared into her room, closing her door behind her.
“Did anything happen at school, (Y/N)?” Charlie worried. “How did she do today?” 
“Well, nothing’s really different,” she sighed. “I only saw her during lunch and she was just quiet. She picked around her food, only eating a couple of bites before the bell rang. Other than that, I don’t know much.” 
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” her father responded as he slumped on the armchair. “She’s been that way since September. I’m just glad you’re there now to look out for her. I don’t know what we’re gonna do, (Y/N).” 
“I don’t know, dad. Whatever Bella is going through is bigger than just heartbreak. And I think only she can dig herself out of this hole. We just gotta be here whenever she decides to,” (Y/N) shrugged before she followed the same path Bella had taken only a minute before. “Oh, and school was great for me. Thanks for asking. Again” 
The door slammed lower than she intended behind her, but she didn’t care. Her entire day had already revolved around Bella. Like she was the gravitational pull in Forks. Forget the sun. No, this small town revolved around the one and only Isabella Swan. There was nowhere she could go where the shadow of her sister didn’t tower over her.
She changed clothes before burying herself under her covers, searching her phone for the only person that did not seem to care who her sister was. The only person that had not made her think that they were using her to get to Bella. She knew his voice would be able to calm her anger and assuage her disappointment.
But before her finger could hit the call button a knock resounded through her room, followed by her father’s figure entering her room. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize for that. I know it may seem like I’m only focused on Bells, but I know I don’t have to worry about you. Your sister on the other hand…”
“I know, dad. She’s been chosen by the gods of sorrows and they don’t want to let her go.” 
“Don’t be melodramatic, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “But I wanna make sure you know that I care about you just as much as I care about your sister, and I’m here for whatever you need, whenever you need.”
“I know,” she smiled, swallowing down the tears that were threatening to spill. Her father may not have noticed, but he did not pay them the same attention. Not even their mother had. And it pained (Y/N) to admit that she had grown too used to it. “It’s okay, dad. I know you’re worried about her and so am I.”
“I’m sure, kiddo,” he smiled, sighing in relief. “Well, I wanted to let you know that I’m off tonight on shift.”
“Okay. See you in the morning then.”
“Yeah, and Jake’s downstairs waiting for you.” (Y/N) perked up at his name. It didn’t surprise her anymore when he dropped by unannounced. He had been doing it the remnant of his winter break and he had promised it wouldn’t change after school started. “Now, I trust you guys, but no boys in the room, (Y/N). Keep it to the living room and the kitchen, alright?”
“Of course, dad,” she chuckled, following him out of her room and down the stairs. “Stay safe out there.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed jokingly. “I take you’ll behave yourself, Jacob. That’s my daughter we’re talking about here.”
“I will, Charlie,” Jake smiled. “I promise there won’t be any funny business going on.”
“You better,” Charlie scowled. “See you in the morning, (Y/N). Bye, Jacob.”
“Bye, Charlie,” he chuckled.
She leaned into the side hug her father gave her, smiling as he kissed the top of her head. “Bye, dad.”
The front door closed behind him and (Y/N) remained by the front window until the cruiser disappeared from the driveway and down the road. Once the car was nowhere in sight, she turned to her boyfriend, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. She closed the distance between her and Jake, looking to wrap him in a hug.
But Jacob stopped her, pushing her arms back onto her sides, his warm smile replaced with a stoic scowl. “I’m not staying long, (Y/N),” he muttered. “There’s just something we need to talk about.”
“What’s wrong, Jake?” she worried. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I know you haven’t been honest with me, (Y/N).”
“W-what? What are you talking about?”
“I know that you’re still talking to Paul,” he answered. His face was unreadable but his words were seeped in disappointment. “And don’t deny it. Embry let it slip out accidentally. It seems your best friend decided to recruit mine into whatever gang he’s in with Sam Uley.”
“Come on, Jake. How would Jared know any of that?” (Y/N) stammered, an awkward smile playing on her face. “There’s nothing there to let slip.”
“Right, so, Embry just so happened to start avoiding me and Quil in school. He cut his hair, he got that dumb tattoo they all have, and he’s always with them when he’s not in school. And, it’s funny, today when we confronted him about it, he simply said that they were helping him with something he couldn’t talk about,” Jake seethed. “But the cherry on top was when, for some reason, he told me that it would be best if I just let you and Paul be friends. Which came as a surprise to me since there isn’t supposed to be a friendship there. Not for the past two weeks, (Y/N).”
Her heart beat loudly in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat as Jake revealed that he was sure that she had broken her promise to him. She had never planned to keep that promise, but at that moment she was regretting it. “Tell me what to do to fix this, Jake,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. I’ll even delete his contact from my phone right now.”
“No,” he stated simply. “If you want to help, tell your buddy Paul to let whatever he and his little group have on Embry go. Maybe then I’ll consider forgiving you for lying to me for two weeks. For now, I think it’d be best if we took a little break.”
He turned her back to her, making his way to the door. He made it to the driver’s side of his car before (Y/N) caught up to him, trying her best to not slip on the ice-covered pavement.
“Jake, please,” she cried, holding onto his forearm, trying her best to turn him to face her. “I promise there is nothing going on between us. All we did was talk. I’ll never call him again, Jake. Just please, don’t leave like this.”
“I don’t care anymore if you talk to him, (Y/N). You can talk with all of Forks for all I care,” he spat. “I just want my best friend back and safe from those assholes. Get Embry back and then we can talk. It’s as simple as that.”
“I have no control over that, Jake. You know that,” she sobbed. Her hands kept tugging at his arm, trying with all of her might to turn him around. To be able to look into the brown of his eyes and show him that she was telling the truth. But he would not budge. His body remained frozen in place. His gaze fixed on the car door. “Please. I’ll do anything else. Anything you want!”
At that last tug, Jacob finally moved, pulling his arm toward his body. The bruteness and the swiftness of his motion made (Y/N) slip and fall back, her hands flying behind her to catch her fall. Her palms burned as they made contact with the rough cement and her backside ached in searing pain.
Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, falling down her cheeks and making her skin freeze in the weather. She knew it had been an accident –it had to be. But instead of running to her aid, Jake got into his car with a scoff. “Ask Paul to let Embry go,” he said as he backed out of the driveway. “If not, don’t even bother calling me your boyfriend anymore.”
And then he left. He simply left. She looked down at her hands, covered in scuff marks and trails of blood. Her body was shaking from the cold but her shock petrified her more. Jake had –unintentionally—hurt her and he had left.
(Y/N) didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t call her sister. Bella would probably just stare at her as she took care of herself. She couldn’t call her dad and let him know what Jake had done. Maybe he wouldn’t have even thought that it was such a bad thing. There was only one person that she knew she could call. The only person that despite everything that had happened could bring her comfort.
Her hands screamed at her as they dug into the pocket of her pants to dig out her phone. She stared as the grey sweats she wore darkened with drops of blood. Her wrists ached and her palms stung, and all she wanted was someone to hold her.
“Paul,” her voice croaked through her phone as soon as the ringing stopped. “Can you come over, please?”
“I’ll be there soon,” was all he said.
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luvvixu · 4 days
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mind over matter pt. 5
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, mention of drugs, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: I MISS Y'ALL MWAMWAMWA!! anw, here's a 4k wc for this update and for those who are wondering, "where tf is the special chapter for 'the end'?" and imma tell u...the file went corrupted for absolute no reason...and i have to rewrite the whole story bcoz of that...k bye im gonna kms (kidding) HUHUHUHUHUHU IM STILL CRYING ABOUT IT!
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previous / masterlist / next
it was late at night and you're exhausted but happy after your first visit with kazuki. currently, you're in a nice deep sleep back in your room and satoru is still wide awake as he watches you sleep.
his body was situated on the chair and he decided to remove his blindfold just to observe your peaceful sleeping face with the blue moonlight shining upon you. you're beautiful even if you're pale.
a silent deep sigh escalated on his lips, he was still stuck in his deep thoughts about you and your son. satoru couldn't erase your happy face and the sensation of kazuki's small fingertips away from his mind, it all felt so…surreal.
a ringtone exploded on his phone. upon seeing the name, he sucked up a breath and decided to go outside your room for a moment just to call the name on his phone.
“i told you to stop communicating with me anymore.” there's a hint of venom in his voice the moment the other line was picked up.
satoru only hears a slight shuffling but he knew she was there because he can also hear some shaky breaths. “yukie…please know that you and i are now over.”
yukie, not many people know this female since her rank was only at grade 3 but to satoru—she’s the third party, or in simplest words, his mistress. yukie michiga is a beautiful woman with a nice body and a head-turning face. her life was average since she didn't have enough strength yet to rise her rank and get more missions to gain salary but it was enough to sustain her family of six.
she also grew up in a well-oriented family. she was the oldest among her three other younger siblings and she's a very responsible daughter, sister, and as a sorcerer. everyone in her little village adores her and even supports her when she flies to kyoto just to become a sorcerer.
to say the best, she's a woman of all. yukie was beautiful, kind, dependent, and very hardworking.
she and satoru met during his mission when yukie was seen killing some lower grade curses to protect some civilians in an abandoned park. satoru was amazed by her braveness and determination to save those souls despite not being paid enough. but what caught his attention the most was her alluring figure and that angelic face card.
after finishing his mission, he approached the girl who immediately recognized him because of his reputable name. they both introduced their names and even went on a date to get to know each other. and that moment they knew, they were attracted to each other. she even couldn't believe that she was seeing the strongest sorcerer in this current generation.
however, yukie had soon found out that satoru has a wife after their fifth date when she saw a wedding photo on his phone and your contact number literally named ‘wife’. she may be attracted to the guy but she values her dignity and she respects you as a woman even though she hadn't even meet you properly.
despite being heartbroken, she confronted satoru about it and demanded they should stop seeing each other despite her growing love towards him, because yukie would rather be alone than to be hidden behind someone's husband. but satoru did not allow her because he's too caught up in a moment and he finds his needs on the girl.
after some crying and begging, yukie finds herself being ruled by love and lets herself stoop so low just to be with satoru. she was convinced by his charm and now she's so drunk in love. yukie already destroyed herself by having an affair with a married man, so her fighting him to be complete hers will no longer do damage for what's already done.
“let's just forget everything that happened between us.” now what? after what yukie had sacrificed for this affair, he's now letting her go?
a scoffing was received and then followed by a shaky chuckle. “that easily? you're letting me go that easily after you literally just devoted yourself to me two weeks ago?” yukie was trying her best not to snap yet, it's too early for that.
satoru ran a hand on his face. “i'm sorry, but this is not right anymore.”
“oh so you've just realized it just now? after what? after you've finally decided to be a oh-so-good husband and think that you could've fixed everything? you're making me cry by laughing.” the woman did not even realize that she was gripping her phone so hard that her knuckles turned white.
“just say what you want.”
“you. i want you, satoru. i couldn't bear the fact that you're just leaving me so easily after what you had promised me last year.”
“but yukie, you know i'm still married and—”
“then divorce her just like you said before!” tears started to pool on her eyes as yukie was getting and sounded more desperate to save her relationship with the man.
“...i can't,” satoru whispered quietly.
“why?! because you're becoming a coward of the higher up—”
”because i don't want to anymore! i am aware that i'm such a bad person to my wife and i cannot change the past anymore. but i'm very willing to change for the present and the future, just for the sake of my family.” his words cause her to feel like everything stops, that specifically includes her heavy and enraged breathing.
what did he just say? fucking ridiculous.
“look yukie, i'm so sorry for cutting you off like this and thank you for everything that you have done to me. but please, let's just end it here.” satoru continued.
on the other line, yukie was sitting on her bed with tears completely spilling down on her eyes and her emotions were overflowing. their memories together keeps on flooding in her mind as the female tries to collect herself so she could find a quick answer to save this illicit affair.
“satoru, you're such a fucking dick for playing with many women's heart just so you can satisfy yourself. and then what happened to us that you once played with? what happened to those who got us wrapped around your finger? fucking nothing! you left us all hanging!” her voice started from low and went up to loud. satoru would've never understood a woman's rage because their rages are a good disguise of just being angry.
if only he knew what the current scenario is playing in her head, it can make the strongest shiver.
“yukie…i'm sorry but it's not like that—”
“it is! and here i thought i was special among all of the women you slept with. i thought i could be a better partner for you. i even lowered my dignity just to be with a married person!” for once, she finally felt pity for what she had become. if she could ever face her former self, she would hug her tight and say, ‘there is no turning back’.
and that is the reason why she said, “take responsibility for this.”
“w-what?”
“i said take responsibility for this! you made me crazy over you and i cannot let you go! so be responsible and leave your wife—”
“no!” satoru could not help but to yell back. he wanted nothing in this relationship anymore. he swore to himself that he is going to try his best to fix this marriage and that starts with him and his mistress, yukie.
meanwhile, yukie could feel the churching effect of rage deep down on her stomach when she realized that he is serious about cutting her off. he finally decided to stop being a pathetic dickhead and started to devote himself into your circle.
“fine! if you don't want to, then i’ll make you.”
the strongest eyes widened as he could smell danger at her literal threat. he also felt like a cold water bucket being showered on his body when he thought of any unpleasant possibilities that she could execute on you and his child.
“o-oh no you're not.” he gritted his teeth.
yukie laughed crazily, her eyes twitching in the process. “i will. you made me like this, satoru. so face the consequences and be accountable for the person you've made me.”
“yukie—”
“i am going to be your karma and you cannot run away or hide from me. don't you ever try to run away because i’ll make sure of it.” with a final hostile, the woman ended the call, making satoru almost lose his sanity.
“yukie?! h-hello…?! yukie? fuck!”
satoru was on the verge of throwing his phone across the hallway. he felt enraged, scared, devastated, and all. he knew what are the capabilities of yukie—like he literally witness his mistress beat the shit out of that other woman he once mingle with before her just because she's getting jealous.
what more could she do to his wife…and worse, his child?!
his body almost launched itself on the nearest wall due to his knees feeling weak. satoru was not scared of what yukie had planned for himself because he could literally take her even in his sleep, yukie was practically defenseless against him. but if his family was involved? it's gonna be the literal end of him.
he's the superman and his family is the kryptonite—his weakness.
“fuck. what did i get myself into…” satoru hopelessly buried his face into his shaky hands. he's afraid that he had done another unforgivable sin that you would probably not be going to spare him anymore.
but, you wouldn't have done that if you didn't know. so, guess who needs to keep their mouth shut? everyone.
the night had passed and satoru didn't even sleep a single wink. his conversation with yukie just kept on ringing into his head and deprived him from the attention. like right now, you have been calling him three times in a row but he's too busy to look at an empty space below. you reach for his arm to give him a gentle shake. satoru could feel someone nudging him and he knew it was you.
“sorry, what were you saying again?” he sighs deeply before forcing himself to give you a not-so forced smile.
a worried frown appears in your face. “you should go back to the jujutsu high. you really need to rest, i’ll be fine in here.”
“i can still manage this. don't worry.” satoru assured you, and you didn't buy it of course. “i'm not asking you if you can or not. i just said you should head back at least for now.” you said.
“but—”
“satoru, don't be stubborn.” your expression becomes more serious, making satoru fall quietly because he knew that he would eventually listen to you.
“it has been three days since and you hadn't even met your students properly. just go, satoru. you can always come back here during your free time. kazuki and i can wait for you.” you added.
“a-are you sure?”
you nodded and just gave him an assuring pat on his arm. “very. now go and do your thing.”
satoru was left with no choice but to obey, in which he did. he also thinks that this could also be an appropriate moment to confront the threat, by the threat means, his mistress.
“i’ll just leave after lunch. i need to make sure you are well fed.”
“alright.”
the rest of the morning was normally fine. you've watched something on your phone to keep yourself entertained while satoru was dozing off in his seat. his head keeps on uncomfortably dropping, so you decide to offer him a space in your bed in which he hesitantly agrees after you've persuaded him enough.
and now, he's currently sleeping quietly beside you while you are seated and continue watching your show. you would also occasionally steal a glance at him because he's really odd today, like something was bothering him. you know it's not because he's lack of sleep, but it was something else and that itches you to ask him.
then lunch came. satoru was still sleeping so you took this cue to get food yourself by ordering some healthy options available on the app, and sooner, the food came just right by your doorstep. you thanked the delivery man who really made an effort to travel up until here to your room. so, you also give him a nice tip, in which he smiles happily in return.
stealing another peak at your sleeping husband, you've decided to quietly remove yourself from the bed just to prepare the food on the table.
meanwhile, satoru stirred up in his sleep after sensing a weight suddenly vanished from the comfort of the bed. slowly opening his blue powerful eyes, he saw you standing not so far away from the bed and was busy unboxing the ordered food.
he looked at the wall clock across the room and it showed its way past lunch. that alone made him jerk up his body because he slept and you had to do the food by yourself.
“you ordered some food?” you replied to him with a hum and continued doing your work.
“you should've woken me up.” satoru frowns but you just shrugged it off.
“it's okay. you were resting and you need it obviously. besides, the delivery man was very kind to deliver it here if you're worried about me moving too much.”
satoru let this one slide and sat on the bed as he watched you hand him his food as he eats on the bed while you take a seat and eat on the small table. even in different settings, you two still don't share a table for a meal together. it's not like it matters that much, but it finally bothers him.
“what are your plans this afternoon?” satoru asked you after he took a spoonful of bite.
“visit kazuki, of course.” you simply answered.
a little bit of awkward silence engulfed the two of you. satoru was finding a way to crack up a long conversation with you, while you're still itching to ask him a question about what's bothering him. but to clarify things up, you actually don't care about what could be the reason behind it. you're just bothered because he looks bothered and it's bothering you!
“do you want me to send shoko so you can keep company?”
you immediately shook your head at his suggestion. “no, no. shoko is a busy person and has a lot more important things to do. and besides, kazuki could keep me company. i also need to walk his birth papers as suggested by the doctor.”
“about that, do you want me to—”
“it’s okay, satoru. i can manage doing it alone.” you don't mean to sound like you're stripping his rights from your son, but you really wanted to do this on your own. the two of you are still working on an unspoken term and you don't want your broken marriage to affect your baby's pre-life even by the simple act.
actually, you've noticed to yourself that you're becoming a little too soft on satoru. so, you would always remind yourself about the things he had done but also to remind yourself to be less harsh towards the man because at the end of the day, you are forced to be the leading mature in this circle.
you had to subside some of your emotion now that a baby has entered the scene and you would give everything just to have kazuki a bestest life he could live in. and that includes swallowing your pride and being with satoru a little longer than what should have been expected.
“i have a small favor, by the way.” satoru perk up at your words.
“go on.” he said and paid utmost attention to you. you've rarely made a request to him so he needs to make sure he got everything covered.
“nanami…if you ever saw him, tell him to come and visit me.”
nanami?
satoru tries not to frown when you suddenly look for him. it's not like he feels weird or anything since you two are good old friends, but rather why you can't just text him. anyway, he didn't ask you and just kept your little favor in his mind.
“sure, i will.”
and with that, the whole lunch for the day comes to an end and satoru goes back to the jujutsu high and tries to do his usual teaching activities.
satoru did what you said, he told nanami to visit you but he disobeyed when you said to do his daily task as a teacher and a sorcerer. to clarify some things, he did meet up with his students but that's it. he didn't teach nor oversee them on their training. he just told them that principal yaga will continue to handle them for the meantime then flew off the scene.
and guess where he's off to? yeah, his mistress.
a harsh knock surfaced on the wood as satoru continues to call out a specific name who won't even show a sign of response. he knows yukie was there due to him being able to detect her cursed energy but she didn't even acknowledge his presence.
“yukie please, let's talk this out and stay away from my family.” he hates to do this but he implies a pleading and desperation in his voice just for the sake of avoiding the rotten aftermath.
on the other side, yukie was seated on her sofa while still pretending that the consistent knocking or visitor didn't even exist. she'll only entertain the man and let him in if he would approach her as the satoru gojo who she willing to throw her life away just to be with him, not satoru gojo who would throw her life away just to be with you.
“yukie, please…open this door. let me talk to you.” biting her lower lip in despair, yukie swore that she really tried her best to stay strong and wouldn't just crumble over the sound of a pleading man, but guess she just was just making a fool out of herself.
“fuck it.” with a one swore, the woman finally found herself opening the door and revealed the white haired man she's been dying to see. yukie couldn't contain herself anymore, so as soon as her eyes landed on her most prized possession, she pulled him into a messy kiss as she pulled him inside.
but to her melancholia, she was dumb to think that he's going to reply to her with the same passion and love over the kiss. satoru pulled her away from him and didn't even kiss her back!
something inside yukie cracked as she looked at satoru with a broken heart. tears are pooling on her eyes but satoru wouldn't even bat an eye on her now pleading figure.
from his point of view, satoru wiped his lips in disgust as he could smell and taste alcohol in her breath. she's clearly drunk and wasted but still in the right place to talk.
“is our conversation on the phone not enough? when are you going to plant it on your head that i'm not planning to let you go?” yukie whispers as she buries her face into his chest, hoping that he would at least soften his heart and come back to her.
“you have to, yukie. it's time for us to correct the mistakes we both made.” satoru wrapped his arms around her waist, maybe this would calm her down and the conversation would at least become less aggressive.
“your mistake, satoru, not mine.” satoru went silent and yukie knew she was right. she thinks it's only his fault that led her this way, it could've also been avoided when yukie once confronted satoru about you but he's too imbecile to see the aftermath. now look where we are, there's no turning back now.
“is your wife now aware of this, huh?” satoru shook his head, there's no way he's gonna let you know about this. his space in your heart is now barely surviving, he doesn't want to take the risk yet.
“just tell me, what do you want me to do so you can let me go?”
yukie smiled lovesick-ly. “nothing. i told you, i am going to make you mine, and i'm gonna show you how i'm gonna do it.”
shit. this is bad. i’m really doomed.
satoru shoved away with terror and anger in his blue hue orbs. “yukie, don't make me break the rules. you stay out of my family's life.” he pointed a finger towards the female.
clearly, she doesn't give a fuck.
then suddenly, yukie pulled him towards the couch and kissed him aggressively and against his will. satoru knew he would be dead, dead by his guilt that he kissed those lips that he swore he wouldn't touch again.
“yukie, stop—! mmph!” satoru, being literally the strongest, tried his best but it's too late. his eyes could see black spots dancing around his vision, but before it totally went dark, he saw a devilish smile on yukie’s face and then everything suddenly vanished.
turns out, when yukie pulled him into a second kiss, she forcefully put a pill of drug into his mouth and made him swallow unwillingly. satoru may be immune to dark curses but he's no exemption to curse of love.
satoru was unable to move, and yukie, she was smiling ever so widely with hearts in her eyes as she started lovingly at the love of her life.
“fuck, you belong to no one else but mine.”
yukie was overly and beyond happy, that's the fact. she finally has him in his arms, she's so proud that she got the literally the strongest in her embrace—what could possibly be wrong?
yukie michiga, the one who participated in adultery, was about to drag satoru gojo, the one who initiated adultery, while she laughed to herself as she thought about things on her bucket list when she finally made him hers.
but then suddenly, the front door blasted as debris and dust floated around the air and served as a blanket to the destroyer.
“what the fuck?!” yukie hugged satoru's unconscious body possessively while coughing due to the wall dust she's inhaling. she couldn't pinpoint who would do such a thing at her precious house because of the fog.
but when it lifted up, it revealed someone, the one who is the victim of adultery, along with somebody, the one who hates adultery. both were wearing the deadliest expression you could ever see, it is raging with anger, especially someone.
“yeah, what the fuck?!” someone mocked her little curse a while ago making yukie freeze in horror. she knows that person well—very, very well. who wouldn't know her when she's the reason why she keeps on hiding in the depths of their shadow.
yukie's wavering eyes met the other pair of eyes. it was sharp, filled with dagger—those eyes were skinning her alive.
“what the fuck are you doing to my husband, yukie michiga?”
PLS READ THIS, THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT AND IS PART OF THE MIND OVER MATTER
[part 6 will be posted soon — ©luvvixu2024]
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a/n: can y'all still keep up with the plot? ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11
Young Love and Old Money Masterlist
AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.
Word Count: 7,238
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The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so. 
Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet. 
He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely. 
I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand. 
“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided. 
“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”  
“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting. 
Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention. 
“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted. 
“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked. 
Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again. 
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed. 
“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable. 
“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door. 
“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm. 
“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.” 
“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for. 
“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.” 
“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,” 
“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer. 
“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.” 
Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming  guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was. 
“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”  
“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”  I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.” 
“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.” 
My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much. 
I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in. 
“We haven’t done this since-” 
“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence. 
“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?” 
“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled. 
“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide. 
“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.
“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.” 
“Don’t let Cassian know that,”  Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed. 
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“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed. 
It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did. 
Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.   
“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my  hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.  
“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay. 
I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink. 
“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did. 
“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder. 
“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror. 
I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly. 
“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face. 
“Will you teach me how to fight?  I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away.  I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.
His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day. 
“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs. 
I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn. 
When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me. 
“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.
“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down. 
“But Cass I’m fine-” 
“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right. 
“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him. 
He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself  for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine.  Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.    
“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.” 
“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose. 
“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him. 
Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body.  The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 
“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”
Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted  on my stomach. 
“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up. 
“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them. 
My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children. 
A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for. 
What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?
“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water. 
“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response. 
“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-” 
“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy,  I just need you.”
“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.
“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies.  I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.” 
He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand. 
“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.
“Now I’m never letting you go”
The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love. 
“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it  all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother. 
There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues. 
“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”  
I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”
“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips. 
I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days. 
“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band. 
“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest. 
“Whatever makes you happy  my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair. 
We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be. 
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The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal. 
I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.
“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him. 
“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.
“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him. 
“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips. 
I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss. 
His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”
“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum. 
“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.” 
“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall. 
His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.
“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.” 
My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way  possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me. 
As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance,  a concerned look on his face. 
“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong. 
“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati. 
Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.
“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.
He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly. 
“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him. 
Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.
“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest. 
“Yes,” I nod. 
In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend. 
The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city. 
As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up. 
When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away.  Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.  
We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.
“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,”  Rhysand’s voice boomed.
It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had  never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.
“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me.  Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?
I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.
“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it.  While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.
“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning. 
“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.” 
“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly. 
My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.
Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.
“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir. 
Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down. 
Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.  
“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.” 
“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.” 
Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.
“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm. 
Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room. 
I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.
“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins. 
Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.
“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage. 
“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself. 
Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through. 
“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive. 
“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne. 
“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through. 
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Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.
“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him. 
“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”
My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now. 
“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.
“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away. 
I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.
He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly. 
“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides. 
I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every  touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. 
I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor. 
“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts. 
I  was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me. 
His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.
“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.
My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.
“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine. 
“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him. 
“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple. 
“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest. 
“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me. 
If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.
“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more. 
My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing. 
“Oh Cass,” I moaned,  my nails raking across his back. 
“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?” 
His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated. 
“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”
His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly. 
“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me. 
Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment. 
He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.
I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst. 
“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on. 
“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.
In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.
“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-” 
“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.
“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.
The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down. 
“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.
He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.
“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me. 
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”
“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly. 
“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck. 
“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his. 
“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.
“What?” he says, caught off guard. 
“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.
“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle. 
“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face. 
“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.
Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!
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peachhcs · 3 months
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will bringing sam to something to bc for like a hockey thing and she’s his date and he’s proudly walking around with her on his arm
hockey formal
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy's in boston for will's hockey formal which means she finally meets all of his teammates that hear so much about her!
2.8k words
i kind of strayed off the path of what you requested, but i hope you like it!! this was so cutie to write, so pls send more in if y'all have any more requests :) (btw i finally used the actual names of the other hockey players on the team LMAO. everyone but connor is a guy on the bc hockey team) (so, the pics are gonna look big if ur on a computer but on mobile it’s fine LOL) (p.s.s my plan is to hopefully post every like 2 days! :) depending on my schoolwork load)
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will's hands were around his phone as soon as he was done in the shower. the blonde didn't even take the time to change into clothes as he tapped away and stalked where samy's plane currently was. a grin curled onto his lips seeing her exactly thirty minutes away from the airport.
"what's got you so smiley?" eamon whacked his own towel against will's shoulder as he passed by the stall.
"girlfriend's coming to town," gabe answered with a smirk on his lips before will could even say a word. 
"ooh, the girlfriend, huh? has she been to boston yet?" eamon wondered with his own smile.
"is that the same girl who gave you those wicked hickeys a few weeks back?" mike poked his head into the conversation. his words had will blushing to the tips of his ears.
"yup, that's the one," ryan filled in as he leaned back into his stall.
"you mean to tell me hughes is coming here?" now connor joined the group and half the team in the locker room listened in while gaining knowledge of the star freshman's plans this weekend.
"she'll be at the formal tomorrow," will informed, finally throwing a t-shirt over his head. some of the guys let out oohs and ahhs at that information.
"we finally get to meet little hughesy??" colby exclaimed making the other boys chuckle.
"just don't be too weird, okay? do not bring up anything we talk about in here to her, promise?" will eyed his teammates seriously knowing how they got around the girlfriends. they were always sharing unwanted and lousy information that definitely did not need to get shared aloud.
"what? don't want her knowing we know how many times you guys have done it?" aidan teased earning hoots and hollers from the other juniors and seniors.
will's poor blush got even worse under the commotion. he saw ryan and gabe snickering to one another while sending the boy knowing looks. some teammates they were. 
"alright, shut up. just be normal if that's even possible for some of you," the freshman rolled his eyes, quickly disappearing from everyone to finish dressing himself.
"can't promise anything, smitty! get a few drinks in us and we're saying anything," jack called.
all will did was roll his eyes. he knew samy was used to hockey players and their antics, but he still didn't want his entire team making a fool of themselves in front of her. he wanted her to like them and them to like her. will was very big on gaining people's approval—especially samy. 
gabe and ryan happily tagged along to the airport with will. if the blonde didn't know any better, they were probably just as excited—maybe more—to see samy. something in will's heart warmed though knowing his linemates were so close with one of the people he cared the most about. he knew how much the two missed being in michigan and all of ellen's delicious homemade meals when they visited on the weekends. all of them were counting down the days they were all together again at the lake house.
the three were bouncing on their heels waiting by the gate while watching everyone unload from the plane. with them being so tall, they were able to see over most people's heads as they searched for samy's familiar mop of brown curls.
"i see her!" ryan exclaimed and the other spotted her also searching for them through the sea of people.
will began pushing his way forward to meet her in the middle. he felt like a little kid on christmas with how big his smile was and how tightly he embraced the girl when they finally met in the middle. his hug was so tight samy's feet lifted off the ground a little in a small spin.
"hey willie," samy beamed into his shoulder.
"hi pretty girl, missed you," the boy mumbled back, reluctantly letting her go for a moment. the girl's eyes spotted gabe and ryan hanging back, so she quickly jumped towards them.
"aw, my two favorites came to get me too," samy giggled as they both wrapped their arms around her shorter frame.
"good to see you too, hughesy. been a while," ryan chuckled.
"two favorites?" will cleared his throat, raising his eyebrow.
"obviously you're the first," the girl chuckled, tugging her arm back around her boyfriend after hugging ryan and gabe. the boy grinned as he basically smushed samy into his side. 
"someone's jealous,," gabe teased which only earned him a harsh glare from his friend. 
"you hungry at all? thinking about grabbing lunch with aram and drew back on campus," ryan wondered as the four made their way back down to baggage claim. 
"is that even a question? of course i'm hungry," samy beamed making the guys laugh. 
ryan and gabe helped grab samy's suitcase while catching up about soccer and school. will hung back, gladly letting his linemates talk since he's heard it all already from their nightly facetime calls. the smiles on ryan and gabe's faces were enough to tell will how much they enjoyed being around samy. it was something the blonde worried about when he first introduced them two years ago, but he should've known there was nothing to worry about. 
obviously samy got shotgun in will's car, so the guys stuffed themselves into the backseats. samy excitedly told them about her spring season while they chimed in with small tidbits from hockey. 
"did smitty tell you all the guys on the team are excited to meet you tomorrow?" ryan wondered. 
"they are?" samy giggled to herself while both boys nodded.
"you should've heard them in the locker room earlier," gabe grinned while will eyed him through the rearview mirror. 
"you're kind of a big deal to them i guess," will mumbled a bit shyly. his ears turned a slight pink thinking back to their teasing remarks. 
"so i've heard. i can't wait to meet them," the brunette chuckled. 
lunch with the six of them felt like old times back in michigan. somethimg about being all together and laughing like they hadn't been apart the last few months brought a sense of comfort and nostalgia knowing that in a few years they really weren't going to be together like that. 
samy and will retreated back to his dorm afterwards to spend some much needed alone time together before tomorrow. the girl grinned when her eyes caught sight of will's new wall decorations as soon as she stepped into the room. 
"aw, you two took my suggestions," she beamed and glanced over at gabe's side too. 
samy's heart warmed seeing so many pictures of her on will's side. he had three framed photos and probably 10-15 mixed into the photo collage on his wall. a smile crept onto the blonde's lips watching his girlfriend inspect every aspect of his side since she last visited. 
"this one's my favorite," he pointed to one of the many photos in the collage. 
samy ws laughing at something whoever took the photo said, but will's eyes had never left her. the gaze in his eyes said a lot more than words could. 
"wait, i didn't even know this picture existed. when was that?" the girl wondered, jumping onto will's bed to get a better look.
"like last summer?" the boy shrugged some. 
"i didn't even realize you were looking at me," samy giggled. 
"i know. that's why i like it," her eyes flicked to will's and that same stare from the photo was in his eyes. a small blush painted her cheeks as she quickly looked away before he noticed. 
"it was nice seeing the guys. i missed them," samy changed the subject as she sunk further into will's bed. 
"they were really excited to see you. they really miss michigan. i do too," the boy kicked his shoes off to join her. his words softened out samy's expression. 
"best two years ever having you guys so close by. i can't wait for summer," her voice dropped a little knowing how far off summer was still. 
will's arm curled around her waist to bringing her into him. "me neither. this long distance sucks, but i'm glad you're here. tomorrow's gonna be fun," his fingers carefully brushed some of her hair away from her face. 
a teasing smile grew on samy's lips, "how bad are they gonna chirp at you?" she knew all too well about his teammates constant teasing. 
"hopefully not too bad. i told them to cool it," will mumbled with an embarrassing blush that samy adored nonetheless. 
the two spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms after two long months apart. gabe came back later that night to the sight of them sound asleep and some random movie playing off of will's computer. the dark-haired boy quickly snapped a photo before shutting will's laptop and placing it somewhere safe. he quickly sent the photo to the freshman group chat, a smirk on his lips as he got himself ready for bed. 
will stood in front of the full length mirror getting his tie ready while samy got herself ready in the bathroom. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little nervous for tonight. the hockey player knew his teammates would like her—they literally fangirl over her—he was just afraid they'd become too much or something. 
gabe threw his suit jacket over his shoulders while trying to look over will in the mirror. "dude, you're hogging the mirror," the dark-haired boy complained. 
"i'm almost done," will mumbled, fidgeting with his collar now. 
"go look at yourself next to your girlfriend in the bathroom," gabe shoved will out of the way. the blonde stumbled sideways, catching himself on the door. 
"dude," the blonde glared at him. 
"what? there's a bathroom for a reason," gabe shrugged, seemingly unbothered by pushing his friend out of the way. 
will rolled his eyes before gently knocking on the bathroom door. "yeah?" samy asked. 
"can i come in? gabe's kicking me away from our mirror," will wondered. he heard samy laugh and then a yes, so he carefully pushed the door open. 
the sight in front of him made the boy stop in his tracks. samy leaned over the counter trying to apply mascara and her dress was one will hadn't seen before. the material was satin or something because it shined in the light and hugged all of the right places. blue was most definitely samy's color. 
"like what you see?" the brunette smirked. she caught will's wandering eyes through the mirror, finally turning to him once she had her mascara on. 
pink colored will's skin from his neck to his ears. "you look beautiful," he mumbled, slowly stepping further into the bathroom and letting the door close a bit. 
"you don't look bad yourself," samy smiled at his all black suit and tie look. 
will stepped forward even more so his one arm could snake around samy's waist. he pulled her into his chest while his eyes shamelessly dropped down to her chest area and back up. "i can't believe you're mine," he nearly whispered making the girl chuckle. 
"you're sweet. i think i'm almost ready," samy's hands brushed back some of will's unruly curls. he flushed under her touch and brought her to his lips before he let her go. 
their kiss was filled with a lot of love. will's grasp on her waist kept her in place, kissing her deeper which allowed him to push his tongue into her mouth. samy's hands toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck, indulging in her boyfriend's slight neediness before she needed to finish getting ready. his boyish instincts started taking over as his other hand began sliding down past her waist. 
before he could reach her butt, samy pulled herself away. "i gotta finish getting ready. don't wanna be late," she giggled. 
will let out a small groan in protest, "you're annoying." 
"maybe." 
samy turned back to the sink, eyeing her makeup scattered across the counter. will's eyes did one last once-over of his girlfriend before tearing his eyes away and doing his finishing touches. another five minutes went by and the couple was finally ready. gabe looked up from his bed, smiling at the two.
"finally. scared i'd have to walk in there myself," he joked. 
will rolled his eyes while samy just chuckled. the three headed out of the dorm where they met ryan, drew, aram, and will vote downstairs to drive over together. the seven exchanged their hello's before dividing everyone up between will, drew, and ryan's cars. gabe stuck himself with will and samy, so the three continued out to the parking lot. 
samy smiled when will opened her door for her. 
"so charming," gabe mumbled as he climbed into the back. 
"wish he did that for me," ryan laughed as he walked by. 
poor will knew he wasn't going to escape the chirping all weekend, especially tonight. the drive into downtown stayed uneventful with minimal comments from gabe. they pulled into what looked like a very fancy bar in the heart of the city. samy hooked her arm around will's as the three walked in. a lot of the upperclassmen were already there mingling and their attention was caught when samy and will walked in. 
"yo, smitty!" aidan exclaimed, running around the bar to the couple. 
"what's up, hreschuck," will grinned. 
"you must be samy. we've heard a lot about you," aidan turned to the girl beside his teammate. 
"it's good to meet you," the two exchanged a friendly hug before the older player went to greet gabe. 
"it's her! it's little hughesy!" connor jumped up, running to hug samy. 
"connor miller! it's been forever since i saw you," the brunette laughed. she remembered connor playing with luke in the ntdp before they headed off to separate schools. 
"i know! when i heard you were smitty's girl i just couldn't believe it. how's your brothers?" the older boy wondered. 
"they're good. quinn's in van. jack and luke are in jersey. i'm the only one left in michigan," samy chuckled a little. 
"god, i can't believe moosey's in jersey. i can't believe you're old enough to be in college. you play soccer right?" 
will lingered beside samy while the smile on his lips grew. he never put two and two together that samy would know some of these guys through her brothers. he loved seeing her eyes so bright talking to connor about her brothers and soccer knowing she'd talk nonstop about them at any chance she got. maybe he wouldn't get chirped at as much as he thought. 
just as will thought that, colby and mike bounced over to where the couple was. "aw, she really does exist," colby cut into the conversation causing will's face to flush. 
"i'm colby. that's mike. we've heard a lot about you being smitty's girl," colby continued as he held his hand out. 
"it's nice to finally meet you guys," samy laughed, shaking their hands. 
"don't pay much mind to them. colby's going a little crazy tonight since he's graduating in a few months," connor laughed. 
"can do whatever i want and they won't kick me off the team," the older guy shrugged. 
"sometimes we thought smitty was lying about dating you," mike chimed in. 
"yeah, sometimes i don't believe it either," samy joined into their teasing. her gaze slid towards her boyfriend still beside her who blushed hard. 
"i mean he definitely picked a good one," colby nodded. 
"why don't you guys get some drinks and food before the other guys eat it all," connor laughed, pushing samy and will further into the bar and pretty much saving them from more of mike and colby's annoying remarks. 
"jesus, sorry about them," will mumbled when they were out of ear shot. 
"don't apologize. i thought it was funny," samy shook her head with a smile. 
"they don't know how to shut up ever," the blonde rolled his eyes. 
"you forget i'm used to it after growing up with three brothers who have hockey friends of their own," the girl giggled making will flush. 
"i know. i know. thanks for coming again," will placed a chaste kiss to her lips. 
samt stuck to will's side for most of the night, but she enjoyed seeing him in his comfort zone. all of the guys on the team were so close with one another. the upperclassmen treated the underclassmen like brothers despite the slight chirping. she could tell how much will loved it and how much he fit in with them. 
even though her boyfriend did most of the talking, she was glad to be at his side in a pretty dress for the night supporting him in what he loved the most. 
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zyettemoon1800 · 6 months
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Thomas Hewitt going to a cook out
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Right off the bat, he is really nervous AF.
He has only ever met your mom and grandma and while they were both very nice and open to him, he is not sure the rest of your family will be the same way. Especially the men and children.
Though he is not a talkative fellow, you understand through this body language that he is nervous and uncomfortable with going to the cookout.
However, you assured him that everything would be okay and between your mom, Grandma, and you no one would mess with him and stay.
Though that made him feel a little better, he still had his doubts about it, but he decided to do it for you.
You both still had a bunch of time before the event started so you decided to cook one of Thomas's favorite side oven baked macaroni and cheese to bring to the event.
Of course you let him be the taste tester and even made a big pan that could stay at home for y'all to eat later. While it was cooling off, you pulled him to the shower and washed up and got dressed. He does still like to cover his face, but instead of a hot leather mask, you were about to find a black face mask that is breathable and somehow makes him even sexier.
He still is trying to figure out what kind of clothing he likes since he usually wore the same thing when he was living with his family, so he usually just lets you pick out his fit.
On the way out, he grabbed the macaroni and cheese and put it on his lap so it wouldn't get tossed around when you're driving.
The closer y'all got to your mom's house, the more he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He has dealt with many people making fun of him because of his face and size and he just doesn't want to go back to that again.
When y'all made it to the house there were already a bunch of people there and they all looked at you both as y'all got out of the car. As everyone stared at you two, you softly grabbed his hand and led him into the house where your mom and grandma were.
They greeted him with open arms as you took the food out of Tommy's hand and put it with the others. Afterward, you headed back outside to introduce him to your other family and friends.
Thomas was very nervous and hesitant as you introduced him, but all of his fears went away when everyone greeted him with open arms or high fives.
Most of the younger kids wanted Thomas to pick them open or play some games with them which he happily did.
Some of your family wondered why he didn't talk and you just told them that he has speaking problems so you both mostly use sign language.
This interested a small number of people and they also wanted Tommy to teach them some signal language. Which he was also okay with.
For a while, he sat in a chair with a bunch of children and some adults surrounding him as he taught them whatever word they wanted to know.
When it was time to eat, your grandma made Tommy two plates full of fried chicken, mac and cheese, collared greens, loaded mashed potatoes, candy yams, black-eyed peas, and to top it off a tall glass of sweet tea. As you also got your plate and began to take Tommy to another room so he could eat in peace, your younger family members wanted to eat with you both and started to whine when you said "Maybe next time".
As they kept whining, your mother was able to calm them down and make up a little story about why they couldn't eat with the two of you and that he would play with them after we were all done eating.
After y'all were done eating, he helped clean up before he was dragged away by the kids to go back and play whatever they wanted. It is easy to say that Tommy had a good time with your family and wishes to go back soon.
When it was time for you two to leave, your grandma fixed him a bunch of leftovers and gave him a kiss on the cheek before sending you both on your way.
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redhead-batgal · 7 months
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Type: Two-Shot (Part Two: Here)
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin
Word Count: 8,605
Content: Bad y/n family, self-depreciative thoughts, language, violence, a little bit of gaslighting, angsty times, (a tiny bit of venting), "good" coping/reactions, tiny bit of batfam slander and aged up reader/Damian to 18yrs.
(P.S: I may or may not have another part planned that will make all of this make more sense but like it works fine as it is if y'all like it on its own)
Y/N: your name, V/N: Vigilante name, S/n: Sister's name, Favorite Color: f/c
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Family is supposed to be one of the most cherished and important things in life. They are supposed to support and love you; they are supposed to make you feel safe and happy. They are supposed to lift you up and help you know that despite your flaws you are loved, wanted and cherished.
And yet, yours never did.
Born the middle child you were quickly forgotten. Especially since your younger sister captured everyone's attention. Captivating every person who passed it seemed as if she had some kind of aura that pulled others in.
It seemed as if she was good at everything and nothing you could ever do would even make you half the person she was. She was kind, and friendly, wickedly intelligent and charismatic. A perfect person some would say, and it made you feel like utter shit for not being able to do a third of what she could.
Maybe that was why you turned to a life of vigilantism. Maybe you hoped that doing good, even with no thanks for it, would help you feel worth... something. Worth anything. That even though only you would know, you would be able to burn at a fraction of light your sister burned at. Helping others, saving people merely because they needed help and making a difference made you feel... alive.
But your sister was still there. She was still shining and bright, happy to steal any friend or crush you ever had. Or at least that's the way it seemed, the way her eyes would glint as she laughed twirling her hair chatting with your friends. A vengeful look spilling from them. But she always shed tears upon seeing your distraught face, she seemed to feel guilty though you felt a hidden smile behind her tears.
Sisters are sisters, your parents would say, she will be mean and tease you, but you will always love each other.
You began to wonder if all of it was a lie to make you feel as if she cared about you when it was clear she didn't. She seemed to hate that you had become content that you were different then her, that you proudly held your head high as people pointed out your differences. But she didn't know the way you truly felt. It was strange, she was so perfect that you were jealous, but jealousy was a nasty color on anyone. And you had heard too many times that you were selfish and self-centered to let others know how you truly felt about her.... well, some people knew.
Your partner, Damian Wayne- the mother fucking Robin, knew how you felt. He was your best friend after all, he knew all of your secrets and deepest feelings and wishes as you knew all of his. Ever since you had moved to Gotham and decided upon some extracurricular nighttime activities, only to be caught and brought in by Batman; your life had gotten a bit better. Your sister was miles away in your home state living a happy and pampered life as she went to college while living with your parents.
Regardless, it was hard to forget such emotions- to remove them completely. In fact, it was harder to forget how you were treated since you were so much freer. You were unhindered by your family's expectations and your sister's growing shadowing which you were so used to living in.
Now out of that shadow- out of sight of the throne your parents constantly put your sister on you were better able to see that she wasn't perfect at all... well at least she wasn't as nice and kind as she seemed to be. Away from your childhood home you were able to see all the jabs, torment, disparagement and diminishment you received from her. How she would mock your accomplishments and steal away those who helped you rise passed your insecurities regarding your place against hers.
It seemed whenever you got enough footing to climb out of her shadow, she'd push and knock you back to the depths of it.
You had, as many do, told your best friend of such revelations. But, as humans do, you made it clear that your thoughts probably had bias. An accumulation of years of neglect and belittlement made it hard to be sure what you felt was the truth. Which made it even harder to convince Damian you were right, but you didn't mind fighting such a battle if it meant someone else could see the sister the way she truly was... or at least the way you saw her.
"Ugh," You groaned tilting your head back as you turned your phone off leaning against the gravel covered rooftop, "Miss Perfect is at it again."
Across from you, Robin raised his head. His face stony as he scoffed looking around once again, doing the job you were supposed to be doing at the moment, patrolling.
Silence beat between the two of you and you rolled your eyes, swirling into a somersault before bounding over towards him. He stayed quiet and you began walking circles around him.
Throwing your voice down at least three octaves you spoke again, "And what exactly did that horrendous sister of yours do this time?"
Robin blinked at this, pausing before turning to you, his facade finally cracking as he lifted an eyebrow.
"What exactly was that supposed to be?"
You grinned leaning in a bit closer to him before batting your eyes and replying, "My impression of you being a caring friend and contributing to this important conversation."
This time the corner of his mouth twitched as he hesitated. Then he turned eyes scanning the horizon. You shrugged accepting the small victory as you slid into a perch your back pressed against his.
"I'm going to just keep talking and if you don't respond I'll respond for you, okay?"
He grunted in reply, and you took that as a yes before leaning your head, so it rested against the back of his shoulder.
"S/N found the old diary we shared and posted pictures of some entries on all of her socials. Entries- selective, that only I wrote- embarrassing entries."
Silence beat once again between the two of you and you took that moment to take up your impersonation once again.
"Do you think it was involuntary? Or that she had a particular reason for doing such an atrocious thing?"
You felt Robin's body tremble and twitch as he shifted, and his chest shook. Smiling softly, you looked up at the night sky, partially missing the thousands of stars you could see back home.
"No, I think she did it on purpose. As I have told you before, it is her life's mission; along with being the exact image of a perfect daughter, girl and person, to make me feel like shit." You paused shifting so your weight was slowly and surely pressing upon him, "It was- it was probably because of the pictures I posted last week of me, Steph, Cass and Barabra."
He was motionless this time and still silent. Fiddling with your belt you waited a moment more before replying to him.
"You must have a rather elevated opinion of yourself if you think she would care about something so minuscule y/n- no V/n."
This got a soft- barely audible laugh from him. Taking the second it escaped to bask in the sound and feeling of his body shuddering as he tried to hold it back and you let out a breath. It was relaxing being here with him, talking half to yourself while he listened. It was peaceful and quiet, something you found your cherished. However, the quiet would not last long, so you continued on.
"You see Da- Robin, I would agree with that except she not only was one of the first people to like it, but when it started getting a lot of likes she commented, 'So proud of how far you've come! I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month!'. Now I have a question for you, is that something someone who doesn't give a shit does?"
This time he moved, shifting so your sides pressed together and faces nearly touched. His brow was furrowed and gaze dark. You blinked in surprise but merely tilted your head.
"What?" He muttered something tense in his voice.
"She commented on my photos of my girl's day with Steph, Cass and Barabra, 'So proud of how far you've come. I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month. Kinda seems off right?"
Robin scowled as he looked away from you, but not at the city, no he looked at the rooftop, his jaw locking. You weakly laughed and turned so his side was pressed against your back.
"I don't know about you, but that sounds fairly passive aggressive. And I know I'm not the world's greatest detective or his kid, but... that does not seem like something you'd comment on your sibling's post."
Robin grunted and you shut your eyes for a moment, happy tonight was tranquil enough that you could feel the quiet. Every moment that pulsed between the two of you was raw and unimpeded. You could hear every one of his breaths, feel the expanding and contracting of his chest and feel the heat of his body pressed against yours fighting off the chill of the night.
"It is... odd." He finally replied.
You snorted, opening your eyes to see him looking at you, his brows creased with concern.
"That is an understatement if I've ever heard one."
He rolled his eyes snorting as you sat up yawning. Stretching out you faintly heard the beep of the coms, a voice crackling in your ears.
"V/N, Robin, if everything is clear you two are good to go for the night."
Patting your mouth, you nodded making brief eye contact with Robin before you stretched some more, "Alright, thank you very much Oracle!"
Oracle's voice instantly replied, "Of course, get some rest Y/N."
You smiled, shooting Robin a wink as you snagged the small bag you carried with you throughout patrol.
"Yes mam! I will see the both of you tomorrow!"
A soft laugh echoed through the coms before everything went silent, you turned and bounded down the stairs to the closest empty room, changing back into your civilian clothes and placing your vigilante gear into the bag.
Now appropriately dressed, you began your trek home. Which luckily for you, was less than ten minutes tonight. Taking in the night air you bounced and twirled walking down the sidewalk before you arrived at your complex.
Walking inside you began your assent to your apartment; sure, nothing could ruin your night. However, as you made it to your floor you found a figure with bags standing nearby your door.
"Uh, hi," brow furrowed, you slowly approached the figure, "can I help you?"
At the sound of your voice the figure snapped up stepping enough into the dim light that you could see it was a girl- a familiar girl who perked up at the sight of you.
"Y/N!"
You felt the blood drain from your face as the girl raced up and pulled you into a hug. Your head began to spin as you fought to breathe normally.
"What are you doing here?" You weakly asked as the girl released you grinning brightly.
"I'm here to surprise you silly!" She laughed as she pulled on your arm, "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever, so I wanted to come by! I thought it'd be fun to hang out and see how your life is here. Maybe you can give me a tour of the city and introduce me to your friends."
You nodded half understanding what she was saying, still in shock at the sight of her, "Uh-huh."
"Y/N, come on! It's late we should get inside... speaking of where have you been?"
"Work- uh work I work nights most of the time. I usually get back around 4ish," You began, walking towards your apartment.
She nodded in understanding as she pulled her suitcase towards your door waiting for you to open it. Hands slightly shaking you put the key in the lock and twisted pulling down on the handle. With a weak flourish you gestured to the apartment.
"Welcome to Gotham... S/N."
"I'm so excited!" She squealed, wheeling her things in, "we are going to have so much fun."
"So much," You weakly echoed heart dropping as you almost saw your new life going up in flames.
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It was unfortunate to say the least that not only was your sister in town, but she wanted to meet your friends. You didn't have many friends outside of the other vigilantes and were nervous to explain that you were friends with the Waynes and never said anything about it.
Part of you wanted to brag and shove it in her face, but you knew that not only was rude but would do nothing. If you were lucky, she would be acquaintances with them in the end... if you weren't.... let's just say you wouldn't be able to have your fun little chats on patrols anymore.
You knew that Damian would never abandon you... at least intentionally. You wanted the two to meet so he could see how all you spoke about was true! So, someone else could tell you, you weren't insane. So that you could feel a sense of relief that you weren't making all this up. But you feared- you so deeply feared he'd choose her over you. You were terrified of being abandoned again for your sister.
Regardless, you knew you had to introduce them at some point because there was no way Damian was going to allow you to not speak to him for that long.
So, after an extensive two-day tour of Gotham and pointing out all of the best places to shop, eat or just relax (despite how few there were) you made your way to the Wayne manor for a brunch of sorts with everyone. To introduce your sister and finally get over with the fear.
Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel you tried to listen to your sister's ramble, but your stomach was churning.
"Sooo," She said, "After this brunch I'm going to go and meet up with some online friends... will you be okay without me?"
You tensed, but slowly nodded, "Oh, yeah! I should be okay. I probably can talk with my boss and ask for some time off so we can continue to hang while you're here. And I run a couple of errands."
S/N nodded, shooting you looks as you pulled into the Wayne's neighborhood. She furrowed her brow as you reached their driveway and the gates opened. You began to go up the driveway when she let out a slight gasp.
"Wait, is this... is this Wayne manor?!"
You nodded your chest tightening, "Uh yeah. I thought I told you I'm friends with the Waynes."
Her jaw dropped as she stared in awe at the manor. You wanted to laugh at her expression, but your nerves were wound so tight you feared it might end in you crying.
"We- we are having brunch with the Waynes?!"
"Well, a few of them. Bruce is busy at work and I'm pretty sure so's Tim. Dick is in Bludhaven. And j-" You stopped yourself recalling Jason wasn't legally alive, "and I think the rest should be joining us, along with a friend I think."
S/N did not move, her eyes wide as you pulled to a stop parking. From here you could see Alfred standing in the doorway. You gave him a quick wave and he returned it with a smile.
Unbuckling, you turned the car off and slid out of it. S/N scrambled to get out as you closed your door. She blinked a few times, shaking her head as you locked the car and began your way to the front door.
"How- how are you friends with the Waynes?" S/N whispered, having clamped onto your arm.
"Uhhh long story, I mean technically work. My boss- he uh... he put me on a project, and I ended up meeting Damian and we hit it off pretty well and I ended up meeting the rest and the same happened." You spat out your prepared lie, noticing the way she tensed upon you saying Damian's name.
"Damian... he's the youngest right?" She muttered as you began to climb up the steps.
"Yup!"
"Miss Y/N, Miss Y/N's sister, it is a pleasure to have you dine with us this morning." Alfred said, holding the door open.
You smiled and gave him a nod, "Alfred this is S/N, S/N this is Alfred Pennyworth he is the butler here and the one who actually runs things."
S/N giggled as she released you to give Alfred a curtsy. He gave you a look as she was bent, and you shrugged. The two of you then walked into the manor a clattering of shouts and chatter coming from the dining room nearby.
"Y/N IS HERE!" A delighted Steph bellowed before bouncing around the corner and bolting towards you.
S/N stepped back as Steph flung herself at you, with surprising ease you caught Steph with a laugh. She grinned wildly as a few more people rounded the corner.
"Looks like all your training is paying off!" Steph giggled as you set her down.
She then paused seeing your sister and smiled, holding out her hand, "Hi! I'm Stephanie but you can call me Steph!"
Your sister's expression instantly lightened, and she took Steph's hand shaking it.
"I'm S/N, Y/N's sister."
Steph released her hand and nodded, "Nice to meet you."
A few beats of silence occurred, and you noticed Cass, Duke and Damian, all approaching you.
"Yo, Duke!" You said almost subconsciously, "It's been a while, how are you man?"
You walked towards Duke giving him a quick side hug as he laughed. You felt Damian's eyes bearing into you, but you ignored it.
"I'm good! You know how it is, school and work. It has been a while, what about you?"
"I'm good, pretty much the same," But you paused as you turned to see your sister shooting you daggers, "My sister is in town. Duke this is S/N, S/N this is Duke! He is one of the chillest people in Gotham and the best writer I know!"
Duke flustered slightly as your sister smiled bounding towards him.
"Hi! It is so nice to meet you! I'm S/N!"
Cass waved hello and you waved back as Damian stopped at your side. Your nerves were twisting tighter as your sister looked to you, her eyes brightening upon seeing Damian.
"That's Cass, she is amazingly talented... oh man if she had one, I would take you to see one of her ballet shows."
Your sister nodded clearly not interested in Cass, she eyed Damian and you noticed Duke and Steph sharing troubled looks.
"And this is?"
"Damian Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you S/N."
He took the hand she offered out and shook it. You were still as Damian's arm brushed past you, your heart racing. Silence seemed to buzz in your ears before Alfred cleared his throat. You blinked and turned.
"Uh, Is it time to eat alf- Alfred?"
Alfred nodded and you turned towards the dining room feeling Damian's not so subtle grip on your arm, "Why don't we go eat?"
Steph instantly grabbed onto your sister and began asking her questions. She shot Damian looks before caving in and allowing her to guide her away. Duke and Cass followed behind them leaving only you and Damian.
"Are you alright?" He muttered.
"Yeah yeah," You weakly replied, "I- i just wasn't expecting her."
He looked you over his brow furrowing before he nodded, "Alright."
The two of you stared in silence before you felt your face flush.
"Uh, okay let's go eat!"
You felt his grip leave your arm and you hurried to the dining room to find only two seats open. One next to your sister and one next to Cass, across from your sister. You sat down next to her watching as Damian took the seat across from her.
"So!" S/N instantly said, "I'm assuming you've heard all about me so why don't you tell me about yourselves?"
"Actually," Steph chirped, smiling, "Y/N doesn't talk about you guys often... none of us do. It's kinda like an unspoken rule. After all, Bruce adopted half of them and I- let's just say family troubles aren't fun!"
You had to resist a laugh at your sister's outraged expression and quickly drink from a glass of water to hide your amusement.
"Oh," S/N faltered, shaking her head, "that's okay! I just thought that Y/N would talk about us, I mean we used to be so close...anyways uh what do you guys like to do?"
You turned so she wouldn't see your eyes roll, it was clear- at least to you- she was trying to get the other's pity. Make them feel bad for her and be angry at you. Fortunately, they did not fall for such weak tricks.
"It'd be weird if she did when we have a rule about it but okay!" Steph continued, "a little about me hmmm, oh! I love sports and waffles; my favorite color is purple, and my favorite vigilante is Black Bat!"
Your sister slightly flinched before putting on her sweetest smile, "Oh that is so cool! Though... I don't know a lot about Gotham's vigilantes."
This time Duke chimed in, "That's okay, just pick someone you know. As Y/N said I'm a writer, I enjoy poetry and music; my favorite color is probably yellow, and my favorite vigilante is The Signal."
You had to practically shove your fist into your mouth to stop this laugh, your sister nodded looking a little deflated. She then turned to Damian- hesitated and looked at Cass.
"What about you?"
Cass blinked a few times before signing, "I like ballet, black and Spoiler is my favorite."
Your sister blinked a few times and you coughed to hide a laugh before you watched Damian pipe up.
"She speaks sign language, she just said she likes ballet the color black and that her favorite vigilante is Spoiler."
Something in you slipped a bit and your smile nearly dropped as all the laughter left you. Your sister grinned leaning on her arm as she nodded.
"That is very cool. So, you know, sign Damian?"
"All of us do, even Y/N." Duke replied with a shrug.
Your sister turned to you with a surprised look on her face, and you flushed feeling your stomach drop.
"I-I-uh learned so I could talk to Cass. I- I ended up accidentally catching her while practicing and it- it was ... she was so amazing I wanted to compliment her. She understood but- I wanted to talk with her, you know? Be able to hear her words and see her interpretation of the dance."
Something flickered in your sister's eyes, and she nodded her smile looking a little forced as she turned back to Damian, her brow raised.
"I do believe that you should go first, after all it is poor manners to make our guest go last."
She blinked twice before her smile brightened and she nodded, "Oh of course! That makes so much sense. Uh well... I'm in a little bit of everything. Fashion, art, music, science, math, sports. My favorite color has to be blue and uh... Batman is my favorite vigilante."
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Damian made eye contact with you, and you could see the amusement in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your face.
"Okay, Y/n it's your turn!" Steph declared, causing you to instantly drop your hand.
"What?"
"It's not fair if you're the only one who doesn't do it!"
"Uh," You hesitated, feeling your sisters' eyes locked on your face, "Okay I guess."
You looked up meeting Damian's gaze for a moment before you looked at everyone else.
"I uh... I like Gotham, my job, spending time with you all and uh my favorite color is f/c."
Silence followed and Steph leaned on the table locking eyes with you.
"What about your favorite vigilante?"
Part of you stirred, tempted to say your own vigilante name when you had a sense of guilt wash over you. It wasn't really fair to your sister, was it? She only knew Batman and- and and now you were trying to find a reasonable way to pick Robin, weren't you?
You shrugged, "Uh I guess I'd have to say Robin since, despite the many different ones, he's just as consistent as Batman."
Steph narrowed her eyes and Damian looked at you, surprise faintly on his face. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed your sister rolling her eyes. She then leaned forwards, capturing Damians attention.
"Your turn Baby Wayne."
You winced at the nickname catching Steph and Duke miming gagging motions and shook at your held back more laughter.
"Alright," Damian said, "I enjoy art, it is so intriguing to see the different depictions of peoples inner most toils. I also revel in animals and taking care of them. While I find picking favorites childish, I will partake out of fairness. Green would have to be the most suitable color and..."
Damian stopped, looking at you for a moment before he looked at your sister.
"I would have to say V/N seems the most competent out of the newer vigilantes."
You felt a very faint blush rise on your cheeks and your sister giggled in delight.
"Oh really? That is so interesting. I love art too! And green is such an amazing color."
Damian nodded as she smiled coyly, the door to the kitchen swinging open as Alfred walked out with trays of plates in his hands. You noticed how your sister watched Damian look at Alfred, his brow slightly furrowing, before she darted up.
"Oh Mr. Pennyworth let me help you with that."
You noticed Damian's eyes following her as she approached, also Alfred's tight grin as he opened his mouth to protest but decided not to stop her from taking a tray from his hands and setting it on the table.
You knew how much Alfred prided himself on being able to take care of the household. Down to even setting food out he found it... offensive when people forced help upon him. He didn't mind if you offered, you recalled once offering to help wash dishes and his soft nod. But when people force their help- he had told you it seems as though they are saying he is not good enough- too old or incapable of carrying out his duties.
Wincing you dug your nails into your palm as your sister continued to "help" Alfred out. Thanking your lucky stars once everything was set out and she finally returned to her seat. With that, you all began to plate up food and dig in.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was around 5 pm when your phone buzzed, the familiar name flashing across the screen with all the familiar words. You were needed for patrol. Your sister had been out almost all day, her internet friends showing her their favorite spots and getting all the "tea" about her brunch at Wayne manor a few days before.
You were a tad frustrated she was using your friends to gain popularity but decided she could dig her own grave. However, upon receiving the text you knew you had to tell her you wouldn't be home until late at the very least. After all she was staying at your place... even if she was never there.
You sent a message back essentially saying you'd be there for patrol, then you shot your sister a text right before you left.
Y/N: Hey! I just wanted to let you know my boss called me in tonight. Apparently, they don't have anyone else who can cover my shift. So, I'll be getting home late.
She did not reply but you could see that the message was read, sighing as you gathered your things and headed to the cave knowing you couldn't expect to be able to leave your stuff around here for much longer.
With your bag hoisted over your shoulder you headed to Wayne manor. Finding Tim on the bat computer and Oracle on your coms.
"Looks like I've got double the help tonight, " You weakly joked.
Neither of them replied so you got dressed, commed up and headed out, half expecting Damian to already be out there. You, however, were surprised to discover that he was not at your normal spot. So, you assumed he was out chasing a criminal or watching from someplace else. Bouncing around the rooftops you looked for any sight of him.
You could have sworn you spotted a flash of his classic colors in the alleyway and descended to investigate. The alley was musty and wet, probably from the rain the night before. Looking around you didn't see any sign of Robin.
"Looks like fifth street's clear," You muttered into the com.
As you readied yourself to go back to the rooftops a figure lunged at you from the shadows, slamming you onto the ground a glint following him as he did.
"Oh shit!" You hissed your finger sliding from the com as a frantic voice began on the other end.
The figure- no, the thug raised the glint, and you realized it was a knife. Fear raced through your veins, and you instinctively pressed your distress signal. The adrenaline coursing over you and drowning out the voices on the other end of the coms.
"Come on you stupid bitch," The thug snarled, "just die already!"
He went to thrust the blade down, but you yanked your leg up and shoved him off of you. Scrambling to your feet as he fell backwards. A snarl of sorts escaped him, and you watched as he rose blade ready in hand. He swung at you again and you barely dodged, your brain beginning to wonder where the hell Robin was and why he wasn't here to help you already.
While in your stupor of thought the thug lashed out again, his blade barely catching your arm, but slicing right through your gear and causing a burst of pain and blood to spill from your arm. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to focus.
The thug readied himself for another strike and you kicked outwards, sending your foot directly for the knife. You felt the impact into his hand and heard his cursing as the knife went flying backward. You landed and felt your lungs screaming as the thug cursed louder.
Was Robin even coming? What the hell was going on, wasn't he your partner? Wasn't he supposed to be there for you in the most dangerous of moments and you there for him?!
You turned, hoping to get to a more open area so that... that if he was actually coming Damian would be able to see you easier.
However, something grabbed your hair yanking you backwards, you stumbled passed the thug heart racing as you scrambled to your feet. You backed away a bit more hoping to catch the thug off guard. You looked over your shoulder then turned back.
A fist swung out hitting your face, you recoiled chest heaving as the heartbreaking realization you were all alone dawned on you. He wasn't coming.
Reaching up you grabbed onto a fire escape ladder and swung yourself forwards kicking the thug in the chest and sending him skittering backwards. You half climbed up fingers latching onto some round you could not see, and hands grabbed onto your legs. In an act of frantic reaction. You release your grip on the latter allowing the thug to pull you down. however, as you went you slammed the object into his head hearing his faint grunt before slamming into the ground. The heavy thud noise told you he was down for the count.
Spitting out blood, you rose to your feet wobbling as the thug twitched on the ground. Something hot burned in you, and you swung your foot forwards, straight into the thug's gut causing them to go stiff.
Chest heaving and breaths more like pants, you wiped the blood away from your mouth as you heard frantic voices over the coms.
"V/N! V/N are you alright?"
Heaving out a sigh you nodded slowly and answered, "I've been better."
"Thank god, backup will be there soon, hang tight."
"I have a question."
"Uh yeah?"
"Where the fuck is Dam- where is he?"
There was silence and you felt your blood begin to boil. They knew, they knew where he was, but he didn't have the decency to tell you he wasn't going to be going out tonight.
"He's-... he's out." Tim stammered.
"I'm shocked, you are covering for him. Since when would that-" You faltered as you pressed a hand to your bleeding nose.
Oracle voice broke through your rising haze, "He's on a date with your sister."
"What?"
"He's on a date with your sister. He didn't think he'd be gone for so long. He told me he'd be back in time." Oracle remarked calmly.
You swallow, feeling something in you begin to shatter, “My sister?"
Silence followed on the coms, and you closed your eyes for a second remembering her coy smile at him just the other day. And-and how his eyes followed her.
of course... of course he's with her.
"Where are they?" You whispered feeling your throat begin to ache.
"Y/N I don't-" "Where. Are. They?"
"At the restaurant just past the park, the little Grecian style place."
Your- your favorite restaurant. They were at your favorite restaurant. You bite your lip, feeling your hands curl, nails pressing into your palms.
"Y/N don't do anything stupid."
You hissed, shaking your head, "I'm not, I just... I just wanna see it with my own eyes. ... since when, have I ever not been levelheaded?"
Despite what you had said your heart shattered as your mind screamed. Over and over again
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it
Trembling, you waited before bounding towards the restaurant. You skittered to a stop on the rooftop across from the restaurant. It took less than a minute to see them sitting at a table near the windows.
The coms went silent, and you stared through the window. Watching the two laugh together. Damian oblivious to the time and your sister's eyes glinting as she pressed a hand onto his arm. It was a tactic you knew well and noting Damian's back- his body language, it was working. You should have known, when it comes to your sister… you will never be the first choice.
You should have known she will always be chosen over you. You took in a shaky breath.
"Y/N... are you okay?"
"D-don't tell him." You whispered feeling something warm slip down your face.
"What?"
"Don't- act like this- tonight, never happened. Please. Pretend this didn't happen that I don't know... please." Your voice cracked as you moved away from the restaurant.
There was more silence than a clicking sound.
"Tracking data and video footage are gone. Com records will be shredded once tonight's over." Oracle remarks, "what do you want us to tell him?"
"Tell-tell him that you told me he wasn't coming, and I decided to take the night off. Tell him that Nightwing and Hood went out and everything was fine."
"Alright...you should probably go home Y/N."
"Okay... I'll see you all tomorrow." 
______________________________________________________________
Curled on a couch in the Wayne manor library, your eyes darted towards the door, you weren't even attempting to pay attention to the book in your grasps. You knew- knew Damian would be in here soon. And then- then you would be able to ask him what he was doing. To see if he'd try and keep it from you.
At first you weren't even going to mention the other night but... your sister had bragged- bragged about her date. Claiming that Damian had told her all sorts of awful things he thought about you. And to prove it, you should ask Damian if the two of them went out. While you knew what she said wasn't true. Damian wasn't the type to badmouth someone behind their back. Instead, he'd say it to their face, and you'd never heard anything actually awful from him. And to make it all worse, your sister declared as she left, she would be coming back after her ceremony. That- that she had things-people who she couldn't leave behind. That you had no idea what to think of, but you were unsure of whether what she said was the truth. Unsure and uninterested.
However, part of you was .... curious. Curious as to whether or not he'd tell you. He'd be honest and say that he liked your sister, that he was attracted to her. And even though it would be painful to hear, you wanted so desperately wanted him to. You hoped and prayed and begged fate, the universe and God for him to tell you.
You didn't want to lose yet another friend... no, no despite how much it hurt to think of now. Damian was so much more than a friend.
It should have been obvious to you. With how much you craved his presences and adored his smile. How you took almost every opportunity to lean against him and hear his heartbeat. How your heart would flutter when his hand brushed yours or when he said your name. God, were you always this sappy?
Groaning you pressed your face into the book, of course you just had to notice these feelings when your sister came.
"What did that book ever do to deserve, you slamming your face into it?" A familiar voice asked causing your head to snap up.
You swallowed meeting Damian's eyes with a weak laugh, "Nothing... I'm just- it's been a long week."
Damian nodded before sitting down, right next to you. Before- before your epiphany, you would not have realized how close Damian was in a setting as simple as this. And with how you were sitting it'd be hard for him to not be sitting that close.
"I concur." He replied opening his sketch book.
You shifted shooting him a few glances, part of you hoped he'd just tell you without questioning. Another part just wanted to stare at his face for a while. To take in his presence and relax. But you couldn't. Not with all these questions and worries bubbling at your mind.
"What do you wish to say Y/N?" Damian remarked finally looking up and directly into your eyes.
You froze feeling your entire face flush as you dropped your book and stuttered.
"Oh! I- I-uhm... I was just wondering what you were up to the other night patrol got called off. Usually, you asked me to come help you with some of your sketches but that night-" Before you could even finish, he interrupted you.
"I was with Colin and Jon. They wished to spend time together since we are 'friends'."
Something bitter was suddenly on your tongue as you recalled him sitting across from your sister at the restaurant, the image of his back searing int your mind.
"Really?"
"Yes, what did you find yourself doing?"
"Just reading," You mumbled eyes dropping as you felt the air leave your chest.
He was lying. Lying to you.
It almost seemed as if the world came crashing down around you as his words- his lies blared over and over and over again in your mind. A burning was in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to breathe as a single question repeated over and over and over.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Was it because he had... he had feelings for her? If so, why couldn't he just be honest? Was it because he was scared of the way you'd react? Did he not trust you? Was it because your sister was telling the truth? She was coming back to Gotham because of Damian? Were they- were they going to be in a relationship? If so, why was he hiding it, why was he lying?
Your head spun with questions and worries as your heart shattered in your chest, the realization crashing down on you. She did it again. She had taken another person from you.
You in took sharply and Damian placed a hand on your arm.
"Are you alright?"
"Uh? Oh yeah, " You lied blinking slowly, "just tired. I really wasn't expecting S/N to come."
"Maybe you should get some rest." Damian softly replied.
You nodded your mind screaming as your heart raced. You- you couldn't take this anymore. There had to be a change. Something-something had to be different.
Rising slowly, you picked your book up and set it on the couch absentmindedly waving goodbye.
"I'll see you later." You muttered as your heart jumped to your throat.
"Yes, of course... shall I tell Kent and Wilkes you say hello?"
You froze in the doorway of the library as a plan began forming in your mind. You looked over your shoulder seeing Damian's eyes locked on you. You smiled and nodded,
"Of course."
With that you walked out of the room, down the hall. Then- then you were running, running down the stairs and to an office. Panting you bit your lip and squeezed your fists.
With a heavy breath you pushed the door to the office open and made eye contact with none other then Bruce Wayne.
"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked his brow furrowed slight concern on his face as he took in your disheveled figure.
"I wouldn't call this meeting a pleasurable one," You softly began before raising your chin, "Mr. Wayne, we really need to talk."
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
The air was fresh, and you took in a deep breath hoping to admire the beginning of a new day, unfortunately that was not in today's cards. Your phone buzzed and you swallowed seeing his name flash across the screen. Slowly letting the air leave you, you answered and pressed the phone to your ear,
"Hello?" You mumbled, only to hear Damian's prompt inquiry instead of a greeting. "You are acting rather irregular as of late, is there something that has been disturbing you?"
"No, no I'm not and I'm fine... unless you know of something that might make me act strange?"
"I do not understand what you are speaking of. Are you implying there is something I have done to make you act irregular?"
You went silent grinding your teeth as you shook your head, resisting the urge to pull your phone away from your face, "Nevermind... why did you call?"
"I was curious as to why you have been avoiding me. And before you go on blathering that nonsense that you are not, I know you are."
"Why does it matter?"
"You are always saying that we are...how did you put it? Ah yes, best friends. Am I wrong in saying such acquaintances should keep in contact and even spend time together?"
"You're not wrong in saying that best friends do that."
"Then what am I wrong in saying? That much is evident by your choice of words."
"That we are best friends."
"Pardon?" Damian voice sharpened causing you to swallow.
"I'm not your best friend Damian... at least not anymore. I-I don't consider us best friends."
"Then what exactly am I to you now?"
"That... that is what you are concerned about? Not why I suddenly changed by mind or that it might have been because of something you've done?"
"Y/N, if you wish to tell me something, say it. I do not care for you beating around the bush as they put it."
"You lied to me Damian." You calmly stated feeling tears building up in your throat.
He went silent before replying his voice trembling just enough to tell you he was lying. "What on earth do you mean?"
"You're lying again..." You paused closing your eyes, "Damian, I know you too well for that bullshit to work. You lied to me about what you were doing the other night. I know you were with my sister... I know you were, on a date with her."
"I-" Damian began, before stopping
There was more silence, and you squeezed your hand into a fist, silent and painful tears spilling from your eyes, "You betrayed me. I-I should have known you were going too, that you would. Everyone- everyone always does... they always chose my sister over me. They always decide to put her first even if I was friends with them originally."
"I do not understand how going out with your sister is betraying you."
"That's the best part Damian, it's not. But lying to me about it, helping feed into my sister's taunts and torments-"
"I never fed into that, I would never Y/N. This- this is all a- a misunderstanding."
You ignored him and pressed on, "Abandoning me when I needed you most, when my life was in danger... to be with my sister at a place- a place I showed you... that is one of the most utter betrayals."
Damian went quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut finally, finally letting him know what actually occurred that night.
"I went on patrol that night, I got ambushed and attacked and and- I waited for you." You heard your voice crack as your crying spilled over into your throat, "but you never came. God, I felt like such a fool, especially when I found out you were with her. I feel like such a fool."
"Y/N I-"
"Do you know what makes this all-worse Damian? Do you know what hurt the most? What burns so deeply it hurts to even fucking breathe?"
He was silent on the other end, and you continued, half sobbing as you did,
"I actually thought that you'd come, I actually thought that you cared. I actually thought that you- that you would be different and that- that-"
You took a slow breath, "I actually thought you might return my feelings. I thought for once- for once my sister couldn't take something -someone I love from me. Yet here we are."
Damian in took but you blazed forwards knowing what he was going to say, you'd heard it all before too many times.
"I know- I know!" You seethed, "She's not just anyone and it makes me wonder, what- no who am I then? Who am I too you Damian?"
He didn't reply and you hiccupped pressing a hand to your face so- so thankful you decided to do this over a call instead of saying all of it in person.
"I know who I am, even if you don't know who I am to you. I am not the quiet girl who I use to be." You muttered looking up towards the rising sun, the pit in your stomach both growing and weakening, "I will not sit aside as my sister tramples over everything and takes what remains. And I am definitely not the girl who is going to stay friends with, let alone partners with someone who knows how I feel about my sister and chose to... and chose her. You chose her over me. Despite all we've been through you lied to me. And-and what hurts the most is had you told me... had you told me the truth? I wouldn't have cared. But you hid it and tried to make it seem as though you were on my side. You- I- I love you, Damian. Actually, and truly love you. In a romantic way. And had you told me the truth- had you not lied... let's just say I wouldn't be leaving Gotham."
"What?!"
"I, am leaving Gotham. I already resigned as a vigilante.... she is planning on returning after her ceremony and I-I can't live with the sight of the two of you together... not- not with feeling what I feel." You in took a breath hoping that this heart wrenching- this heartbreak would be quick so that in- in your new home you'd be able to start fresh.
"Where will you be?" Something almost sounded frantic in Damian's voice, but you must have been imagining it.
"I will be leaving, going somewhere my sister has- well to quote her, 'have been to enough for a lifetime.' You don't need to worry I won't try and hold this over you... in fact after this call I'm getting rid of my phone."
"I will- I will not stand for this!" Damian snarled his voice cracking on the other end, "you will stay here."
"You don't control me Damian... if fact. If I'm being completely honest after all of this- after what's happened. You mean nothing to me." The lie was bitter on your lips, and you bit your tongue to hide your sobs.
"Y/N... forgive me. It's just I-...You don't understand- please. Please, He sounded so desperate it made your heart ache in a different way, but you couldn't let him get to you, you'd come so far, "Please allow me to explain. I beg of you."
"No," You softly replied digging your nails into your palm, "No. I won't hear any explanations. I won't listen to your honey coated lies because I'm sick of it Damian. I am sick of being used and disposed of. I'm sick of being the second choice, I am sick of being thrown away the second people find 'something better'.
"I made a mistake, please."
"Are you sure it was that you made a mistake and not that you were caught lying?"
Damian went quiet and you had to press your hand to your mouth to stop more cries from escaping.
"Goodbye Damian, despite all that's happened... despite all you've done, I hope you have a good life."
"Y/N no please I-"
You ended the call before you could hear the end of his sentence. Removing the sim card from your phone, you took in a breath then threw your phone into the nearest trash can.
Pressing your back against the complex's wall you buried your face into your hands and sobbed. Letting all of your emotions and feelings out. It was a matter of seconds before someone was hovering over you and you looked up to see your new roommate's concerned face.
"Are you okay Y/N?"
"Yeah, " You nodded wiping the tears from your face as you hiccupped, "I'm... I'm much better. Thank you... seriously, thank you so much Jon."
Jon Kent sighed with a weak nod as he gave you another look over.
"Of course, I'm always happy to help out a friend... especially one who is willing to help me cut my rent in half."
You weakly laughed before rising to your feet, wiping all the stray tears from your face.
"I'm happy to have a place to stay."
Jon nodded again looking you over before he turned towards the city, "How about I give you a tour to get your mind off things?"
"Tour? hmm, yeah that sounds good. Let's do a tour."
"Alright, but first," Jon smiled as he gestured to the city, "Welcome to Metropolis Y/N."
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