#still someone who had to work to get to where he is now and who will always have to work to Maintain as well

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

[slvttyplum]

pls pls pls write a gojo angsty smut based off the song wasted times by the weeknd, ILL GIVE YOU A KISS 😘

the nights got longer, dinner got colder, by the time satoru would come back home you would already be in deep sleep. you didn't want to believe whatever bad thoughts your mind was telling you, but everything pointed to satoru being someone else's, a part of you didn't want to believe it, but your heart ached.

your heart ached for him every night, sliding your arm on his side of the bed where the sheets lied cold, it hurt, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything about it, that was until you smelled a scent that never came through your nostrils, a sweet hint of vanilla, and before you could smell it again, his clothes were already in the washer.

“what was that?” crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame, watching him walk out the laundry room, his eyes tracing over you before smiling, taking a few steps closer to you before leaving an open distance. weird, all of this was weird, and you couldn't bare to be in this uncomfortable state he left you in every day.

“what was what, baby?” his eyes trailing over you again before mirroring your body language and crossing his arms, stepping closer again before leaving another open space. it was like he was scared to come closer to you because he wasn't expecting for you to be awake.

“who are they? who have you been fucking?” the words crawling out of your mouth with no hesitation and satoru's opening his with nothing coming out, just a few stammers before he tried to find his standing.

“no one. where is this coming from?” his eyes glossy as he stares directly into yours, before your eyes divert from his. you couldn't care to look at him until your heart believed that you were the only one living in his. all the signs were clear as day, but there was still a part of you that wanted you to believe that satoru wasn't that kind of man.

“where have you been? and what is that smell? why won't you touch me?” you start to choke up but hold yourself back when you realize he doesn't need to see you cry, there was no reason to, there were no answers given yet, you had to wait it out.

“they've been working me-” satoru didn't have time to finish his sentence before you cut him off, fuck this.

“whose they?” your eyes running back up to his eyes and he wasn't shaking, his body was still and even though you weren't looking at you before, his eyes were still on you, even if you didn't want to look at him. his eyes were always going to stay on you no matter what, you were always in the back of his mind, when he was sleep, taking a shower, eating, working, everything he was thinking about included you.

that's why when he came back from work he would walk to your side of the bed and crotch down and look at your beautiful face, not wanting to leave you but having to. his hand on your hip as he rubbed his thumb around a tiny spot on you, giving you a peck on the lips before taking a shower.

“work baby, work. what? am i getting cheating accusations now?” a little laugh coming out as he walks closer to you, holding out his hand and grabbing yours, putting his other hand on your cheek, leaning in and giving you a peck on the lips.

this shouldn't have made you feel at ease, but it did, you should've gotten more answers before letting him kiss you, let alone touch you, but his touch and scent made you melt under, why did you believe him? and why did you need him?

your hand slipping out of his grip and your arms going around his neck as he continues to kiss you, his kisses slipping lower to your neck and licking over your sweet spot, his hands sliding in your shorts and gripping your ass. the bulge in his pants pushing against your core, his sweet taste slipping into your mouth, making your eyes flushes.

his touch felt so good, especially the way he was gripping you, you were almost about to fall over from how good you felt, but satoru wasn't done. sliding his hands out of your shorts and pulling them down to your legs, letting them slip down while he slid your panties to the side, even one second would be too long so he just did your panties to the side while he pulled down his pants and briefs with the others.

his dick popping out, eager to be inside you, wrapping his hand around his length and lining himself up with you, sliding his length on your wet core, a small whimper coming out. still kissing him as your moans fall into his mouth, your back pushed against the wall and satoru slowly pushing himself inside of you.

“fuck… i missed you.” pushing himself deeper inside of you, satoru running his hands down your sides and on the back of your thighs, picking you up. his dick pushing into your wet spot making you throw your head back, satoru taking the opportunity to kiss your neck, that sweet taste he missed dispersing into his mouth, his cheeks flushed red.

your legs wrapped around him and his hands gripping your ass, your flesh all i his hands, each time he thrusts into you, he grips you harder, your moans coming out nonstop, he could touch your sweet spot with ease so you were in constant pleasure. holding your head back up and looking him in the eyes, they weren't the vibrant blue you would usually look at, but instead dark, almost unsettling until you realized his eyes were dilated.

satoru still pushing into you as he taps his forehead on yours, kissing you again before looking at you again.

“i'll never stop loving you, okay?” kissing again and looking at you, repeating the pattern, he never wanted to take his eyes off of you, like you were going to disappear from his clutch if he did.

“okay.” your eyes fluttering up at him as he goes in for a deeper kiss, before he pushes into you harder, his tip pressing into you making you yelp with pleasure, it was overstimulating.

“i want you to know that, baby, you're the only one for me.”

[enbysiriusblack]

wolfstar au where remus is trying to find a cheap place to live (he's been crashing with dorlene for 7 months now and they are very much sick of him and his inability to use coasters). so he finds this cheap place to rent that says the owner doesn't fully live there but does come and go so it's sorta like having a part-time roommate). he moves there. owner has just left him a note and already mailed him the key so he doesn't see him.

then he's been in the new place for like 2 weeks and still absolutely no sign of the owner but he has his number for emergencies. then after a month, remus comes home from work to find a complete puzzle on the table, an empty mug, and fresh muffins in the oven.

a few weeks go by and remus comes home to a half decomstructed motorbike on a tarp in the middle of the living room. the motorbike remains there for a few days until it magically vanishes again.

and its like every few weeks the owner seems to come in just to relax and do some hobbies but remus always just misses him.

until almost a year after remus had moved in, and he comes home to a giant black dog running up to him. he has a collar on with the same phone number that remus has for the owner. but he thinks like, the dogs gonna be here for a few days or something as the owner seems to always leave his stuff for at least a few days before its gone again. and remus is just panicking because he has not ever looked after a dog, only some chickens and sheep and once a goldfish. and after an hour, remus notices the bowl of water the owner had put out was now empty and the dog seems quite antsy so remus grabbed the lead the owner had left behind and decided to take the dog for a walk.

he comes back a bit later and finds a guy with long black hair, dressed in black leather and a led zeppelin tshirt, who's absolutely panicking. he spots remus by the door and runs over (remus backs away because there's a stranger in his apartment running frantically right at him), and then the stranger drops to the floor and rolls over with the black dog on his chest.

stranger glances up to remus after a few minutes of the dog and stranger seeming to console each other and just smiles before beginning to rant about how the dentist wouldn't let him bring his dog in and someone called james was currently overseas visiting family and the stranger wanted to go with him but james' cousin doesn't really like dogs and he couldn't find a sitter in time so now he has to videocall james everyday and time differences are very strange and did he like those muffins he made last week? they were a new recipe he has been trying and there's this new cafe that opened around the corner that he just has to go to, and does he like eclairs? because he's thinking about making them next because his cousin, the one he talks to, is in france right now and said she found the best recipe that he has to try, and is he finding the water pressure okay? because he's been tinkering with it the past few weeks but he wasn't sure whether to go for more a harder or softer pressure

and then the stranger just glances up at remus after the fifteen minute rant. and remus stands there, unable to answer the 50 questions the stranger had asked, and just blurts out

"i didn't think you'd be hot".

and then proceeds to trip over the dog's lead and get a nose bleed.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 

But it was closure. 

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 

It felt fresh. New. Clean. 

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 

At first, he dreamt of death. 

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 

It didn’t even really look like a gate. 

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 

Pomegranates. 

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 

He knew her. He knew her. 

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 

You were always alone. 

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 

Not yet, anyway. 

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 

Safety - an unknown feeling. 

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 

Then one night, he saw himself. 

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 

Safe. 

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 

Certainly not 1988. 

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

[rafesslxt]

HII<33 i love ur work and i was wondering if you could write one where matt sees u with another guy and gets really really jealous and it ends with mattheo like really hard core fucking the reader like bend over and stuff? (can u tell i’m ovulating?)

[sorry for the late answer but I’m cleaning my drafts and requests right now and since I have so many I‘m gonna keep them a little shorter, hope u still like it 🫶🏻]

+ i already had something similar in my drafts so i mixed it

jealous jealous jealous you | mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo wants to make you jealous but you‘re way ahead of him

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, spanking, doggystyle, jealousy from reader and mattheo, different house reader

Mattheo thought he had the best plan ever. He knew you liked him, he saw the looks you gave him when you thought he wasn‘t noticing. The way he could always get under your skin with his annoying comments, your cheeks heating up when he whispered them into your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin.

But he was just as stubborn as you. So of course he wouldn‘t just admit he liked you. He wanted to make you say it so he had a plan.

Tonight it was a party where all the houses gathered together to celebrate. You knew Mattheo would be there ao of course you wore the shortest and tightest dress you owned with cute little heels on your feet. When you entered the party, it didn‘t took long for you to find Mattheo, dancing with Pansy. But what they both didn‘t knew was, you knew that Pansy liked your best friend Jane so it was obviously what kind of game he played.

But two can play that game. It didn‘t take long for you to find someone to dance. There was that boy Colin from your house that eyed you up and down so you took your chance. He pulled you towards him while dancing, your hips moving to the music and your ass brushing his jeans when you turned your back to him while dancing. You stood perfect, exactly in sight for Mattheo who looked at you over Pansy‘s shoulder.

You smiled at him provoking, leaning forwards and shaking your ass in front of Colin. That‘s it. That was all it took for Mattheo to let go of Pansy and storming towards you. Without a single word he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you away from the party.

"Let go of me Mattheo!" you groaned, but he didn‘t answer and didn‘t stop walking either. He took you up to the astronomy tower, pushing you against the railing so you where squeezed between it and his body.

"I‘m so fucking done with your games." he whipers angrily into your ear while he places his hands on your hips. "Don‘t know what you mean." you answer him with a cheeky smirk. He scoffs, turning you around with one swift motion, pushing your upper body over the railing.

"Mattheo!" you gasp loudly as your hands hold themselves at the metal beneath you. "I‘m gonna teach you a lesson now baby. It‘s called 'nobody‘s allowed to touch you besides me' understand?" be asks while slowly pushing the little fabric of your dress over your ass. You hear him groan behind you, his hands instantly on your skin.

Suddenly a sharp sting goes through you, making you gasp again in shock. You look over your shoulder and see Mattheo already smiling at you, them his hand coming down again on your cheek, leaving a mark. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to hide the moans that wanted to leave your mouth.

But soon he hits harder and you feel the wetness between your legs. "I said: Do you understand?" he repeats himself with such a sharp hit on your ass this time that a short scream left your mouth.

You feel him pulling your panties down and also hear him groan at the sight of your wet pussy. "Fuck I should have done that way earlier. Who could have known that our perfect little princess is that desperate huh?" His fingers wander over your wetness, teasing your clit in a circling motion.

Whimpers leave your mouth, wanting nothing more tham to feel him inside of you. "Please.." you start begging and wiggling your hips against him. "What was that princess? Couldn‘t quite hear you." he says in a mocking tone, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. "Please fuck me, need you, please." little whines leave your mouth which make his cock harder every second.

He pushes two fingers inside you, making you moan desperately. He leans forwards until his mouth is next to your ear again and whispers "I‘m goimg to fuck you so hard that you won‘t even remember anything from today but my cock inside your wet little pussy."

His fingers pumping and his thumb teasing your clit made you lose your mind, making you a brainless mess. "Shit look at you already so stupid just from my fingers. What‘s gonna happen when I fuck you with my cock?" he says in a devilish tone.

"Mattheo Please.." you beg again. "Need you inside me." You hear him fumbling with his belt, opening his pants and pushing them down with his boxershorts. He rubs his cock against your ass and chuckles. "Feel this princess?" You bite your lip and nod.

He breathes out, excited to already feel you. "I‘ve waited so long to do this.." Slowly he drags his tip through your wet folds, grunting at the feeling. Then he pushes in, inch for inch, biting his lip too.

"Oh fuck you‘re so tight baby. Just waited for me to pound that pussy." he moans as he feels your walls clench around him, sucking him in. Your eyes roll back and your hands tighten around the railing.

His hands grab your hips even tigther, fucking you from behind. One of his hands goes around your body finding your clit to bring you even closer to your high. His other hand finds your throat and squeezes it, smiling when he hears your moan and your walls around him tightening.

"It feels so good Matty.." you mumble, your eyes already closed with parted lips. His fingers against your clit worked even faster, making you tremble in front of him. "Oh baby I know, and guess what?" he leans forwards again whispering into your ear. "I‘m gonna be the only one who touches you. Never ever will anothet man touch you. You‘re mine princess. And I am your‘s." His touch got a little softer around your throat as he says this. "I- I‘m yours Mattheo." you moan, feeling your heart swelling in your chest.

"That‘s my good girl hm, now come for me on my cock." Your eyes squeeze shut as his hips thrust harder and faster, his fingers still working on your clit until you see stars.

You grab his arm behind you squeezing it as you come around him with a lout and broken moan. "Oh fuck.." Mattheo smiles down on you and groans as he feels your walls spasm. "Come inside me." you mumble quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

"You sure baby?" he asks again, biting his lip when he feels his climax nearing. You nod your head, feeling powerless after your orgasm. With a final thrust he stops inside you and comes inside you and let‘s out a short and quite whimper, groaning afterwards to conceal it. But you heard anyways and smile already ready to tease him.

When you both calm down again, all sweaty and a little shaky, he pulls you off the railing against his body, kissing you for the first time. "Should have done that way earlier too.." You laugh lighty and look up into his eyes. "You have all the time now to do so.." "hmm i hope so." he answers, leaning down to kiss you again with all the love he had in him.

thank you for reading 🫶🏻

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username

xoxo sarah <3

[mo-aiki]

I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.

Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.

Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.

His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.

Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.

Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.

His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.

Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.

When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.

(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.

(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.

'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.

Wait. Why is he thinking about her?

He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.

He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah?! Your Grace!"

The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"

He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."

The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."

He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.

"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.

Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.

Why did it look like you were looking for something?

More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?

You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.

He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.

Wait, why was he thinking this?

Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.

But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.

He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.

But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.

Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.

Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.

You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.

Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."

"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.

You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.

'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.

"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."

You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.

But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."

You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.

He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.

You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.

At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.

Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.

Outings with no small talk.

Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.

"It seems like they will break up soon..."

"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."

"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"

"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."

"Really?!"

These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.

He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.

He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).

Dear Duke Caius,

I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.

I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.

When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.

You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.

I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.

Sincerely,

Marquis (l/n)

The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.

He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."

He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.

You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.

A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.

He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.

His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.

His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.

He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.

He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."

"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"

He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."

Elliot was boring.

Gregory was pretentious.

Adonis was suspicious.

Adrian was paranoid.

But Arthur, was a gentleman.

Until you never heard back from him one day.

He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.

Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.

Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.

The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.

All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.

A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.

A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.

Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.

A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.

A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.

The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."

All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.

He is skeptical and less naive.

He is responsible.

He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.

He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.

He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.

He came to the eventual conclusion.

No man could replace him.

You felt trapped.

A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.

He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"

You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."

His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."

Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'

You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.

Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.

"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."

He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"

He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.

"You have finally called my name..."

You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"

"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"

He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"

His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."

Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"

This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.

But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.

He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.

"But! But!"

"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"

Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.

Following you everywhere.

Bringing you onto his lap while he works.

Having picnics with you.

Having tea with you.

Being your dance partner for practicing.

Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.

Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.

Increasing security around you.

Feeding you himself, personally.

Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.

And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.

He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.

You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.

So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.

You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."

There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."

All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.

Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.

Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.

Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.

And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.

Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.

You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?

Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?

Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?

Adonis was already kinda shitty.

Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?

Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?

You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.

Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.

And it felt like it was all your fault.

"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."

Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.

"Why is my bride crying?"

Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.

He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"

You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"

He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."

He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"

You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."

"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."

His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.

"Who?"

"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.

"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"

You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.

"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."

He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."

Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"

You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."

You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."

You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"

He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..." He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.

"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."

You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.

"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.

You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.

Walking down the aisle with your father.

The flower petals dancing around you.

The songbirds singing their songs.

And your once dream husband at the alter.

"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?

"...I do..."

The final words of your previous life.

A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?

Taglist

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[ronintales]

ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p

 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Helloooooo

I'm newer to your page ive been slowly reading your amazing stories.. are you still doing your prompt list stories?? I seen 3 that could work.. 40,42 and 43.. and it made me think or something possibly like this..

Eddie and (maybe plus sized) reader have been together for a while.. she sees a pretty girl/groupie flirting with him after the show (but she doesn't see him walking away from her or telling her that hes taken/not interested.. Reader just gets feral when they get home.. not realizing she's ovulating or something.. and just like gets her frustration out by begging Eddie to claim her fully or something..

sorry my brain has been all over the place.. I just can't get enough of him amd some stories have brought out some sides of me that i didnt know i had haha)

Hope that made sense.. I have a hard time getting what I have in my brain out.. which is why I don't write haha

Hello, lovely! Welcome! Thanks for the request!

Not proofread!

Eddie x fem!shy!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+, smut (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), mention of pregnancy

Ever since you and Eddie had gotten together, he had made your relationship his entire personality. He would mention you every chance he got, letting everyone know that he was a taken man and that he was very lucky to have you. Whether it was in an interview, he talking about one of the many songs he had written about you, or introducing you to someone, it didn’t matter. He was so obsessed with you and had to let everyone know just how much he loved you.

Amongst his many nicknames for you, “my girl” was by far his favorite. He used it so often, so much love behind the words that it was clear to everyone that he was head over heels for you. He’d even go as far as singing the song to you while you made breakfast together, spinning you around the kitchen as the lyrics fell from his lips.

“This? Oh, my girl got it for me.”

“The next song is about my girl. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girl.”

You were his favorite topic of conversation to the point where it seemed that everyone knew that he was taken just by how much he brought you up in conversation, often unprompted. And anyone who didn’t know or did and flirted with him anyway, he would shut them down so quickly once he realized what was happening. He already had the best thing and wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining it.

You entered the concert venue as everyone was packing things up for the night. Corroded Coffin had just finished a show which you hadn’t been able to get to until after your shift at the bar down the street. You felt horrible for missing it even though Eddie had insisted that it was okay. He just appreciated that you were going to be there at all with your very busy schedule.

You were let in through the back doors and made your way down the hallway to find the all too familiar mop of hair. He was usually waiting right by the door for you, but he wasn’t there. You were starting to panic, but tried to calm yourself down, telling yourself that maybe he was in the bathroom or grabbing his belongings.

You looked all around the building until you spotted him outside his dressing room…talking to a girl. She was beautiful and she was making him laugh. She reached up and touched his hair and instead of stepping in like you knew you should have, you just turned on your heel to leave. You couldn’t watch another second.

What you hadn’t seen when you turned your back was Eddie removing the girls hand from his hair before dropping it. Now he understood what was happening. He took a step back from her until his back almost hit the door.

The thing about Eddie was that sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirted with. That was something that he still wasn’t used to after years in the industry because of the treatment he had received back home. He just thought they were being friendly until the touches came into play and that was always telltale sign. And then he’d let them down easy, not wanting to hurt their feelings, letting them know that his girl was waiting for him back home.

“Oh,” his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I have a girlfriend.” The girls face fell and she almost seemed disgusted by the fact that he was in a relationship.

“Oh,” she pouted. He always felt bad, letting the girls down, but he knew that one of his band mates would be happy to take them off his hands.

“But you know what? I heard that Gareth is looking for someone to take home, if you’re interested,” he winked and her face lit up again.

“Really?”

“Really,” Eddie nodded and opened the dressing room door where the other members of the band were hanging out. “Go get ‘em.”

The girl entered the room and Eddie let out a sigh of relief before turning to his left only to see you turning the corner. He didn’t know where you were going. You always waited for him so he didn’t understand why you were walking away.

He took off, racing after you so he could catch up. He almost tripped a few times, but he got to you, draping an arm over your shoulder as he fell into step with you.

“There’s my girl,” he let out a contented sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple. He tucked you into his side but couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t grabbing a hold of him like you usually did. You always had to be touching him so something was clearly off.

“Nothing to say, hm?” he asked, his lips still pressed to your skin. You weren’t usually talkative after work because you were usually overstimulated, but you would normally at last give him some sort of greeting.

Had he forgotten an important event? Maybe your birthday? No, that had already passed. Maybe your anniversary? No, that wasn’t until next month. Whatever it was, he definitely needed to apologize.

You and Eddie didn’t fight often, but when you did, it didn’t take very long for you both to make up. He was normally the first to apologize, hating to see the angry look on your face. He just wanted to make everything right so you could cuddle up in your bed. He just wanted you to be happy and hated when he was the one to be the cause of your unhappiness.

But he wanted to wait until you brought up what was bothering you. He never wanted to pry and hoped that you knew that he was willing to listen to whatever was going on in your head, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.

So, you spent the whole walk to his van and the whole ride home talking about your nights. He listened to you tell him about what happened at the bar and he told you how great the show went, not leaving out any detail.

It almost seemed like a normal night except for the obvious tension between the two of you. Neither one of you were going to be the first to bring it up, so it sat between you, like a jack in the box and you both were afraid to crank it first, not wanting to see the thing pop up.

Eddie rested his hand on your thigh like he normally did and even thought you were upset with him, you weren’t going to deny his affection. You loved the way his rough skin felt on yours and you felt like you needed him to show you just how much he wanted you.

You wanted him compliment you as he pounded into you, causing you to let out countless moans. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere. Your neck, your tits, your pussy. You just needed his head between your thighs so badly that you were getting wet just thinking about it.

Eddie pulled up to the house that you shared and was quick to help you out of the van, still keeping a hold of your hand as he opened the garage door. You pulled your hand out of his as soon as the door was open and headed inside.

He needed to beg if he wanted to get lucky. Not that it would take much for you to give in. You would have done anything he told you just by him flashing his million dollar smile, his dark brown eyes shining.

Eddie followed you into the house and up the stairs, noticing how loudly you were stomping as you took each step. He usually liked pissing you off just to get the reaction he liked, but never to this level. He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know what he had done.

You got to your shared room and slammed the door once you were inside. Eddie winced at the sound and decided that he finally had enough. He had to get to the bottom of the problem.

“Alright.” He opened the door, not even bothering to close it. He couldn’t go any longer without knowing why you were so pissed at him. “What’s on your mind?”

How could he not know? He was laughing with another girl then acted like it was nothing? Maybe he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Maybe what you had wasn’t as special as you had assumed. Maybe this was just the beginning of the end.

“Nothing, Eddie. Let’s just go to bed.” You really weren’t in the mood to start another fight with him.

“No, we’re gonna talk about this.” He put his hands on his hips. Wayne always told him to never go to bed angry and he intended on sticking to that advice.

“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Tell me, angel,” he stepped forward. “Please.”

“I saw you with her.” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out who you could have been talking about.

“With who?” He had no idea what you were referring to and just wanted you to come out and say it.

“The groupie outside your dressing room.” Oh. He had completely forgotten about her as soon as she entered the dressing room. He couldn’t believe you were jealous of her. You were always the only girl on his mind.

“You’re jealous,” he chuckled and you just scoffed. You couldn’t believe that he was laughing at your pain.

“So what if am?” He wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily, but he appreciated the honesty.

“There’s no need to be jealous, honey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the one I love, remember?”

He had always said the word so easily, so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling you the weather forecast.

“You love me.” You crossed your arms over your chest, needing a little more than that to be convinced.

“Of course I do.” He gave your shoulders another squeeze before sliding his hands down to yours, holding them.

“Prove it.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. You wanted proof, needed it in fact.

“What?” He let out a scoff at your words. It wasn’t like you to have so much confidence in your words. You were usually so shy and quiet, but he liked seeing this new side of you.

“Prove it,” you repeated and he just let out another chuckle.

“How am I supposed to do that?” He stopped laughing once he saw you weren’t joking. You meant what you said, but he was going to do whatever you asked. He just wanted you to not be upset with him anymore. He needed to see your pretty smile.

“Beg.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke and Eddie’s widened at how authoritative you had become. You were so hot like this.

“Beg?”

“Beg,” you removed one of your hands from his and pointed to the floor. “On your knees.” He didn’t know why he was finding your bossy behavior so hot, but his dick was definitely hardening.

Eddie lowered himself to the floor, your hands still in his. He looked up at you and you loved seeing him from that point of view. He looked so small unlike his usual tall stature.

“I love you so much, angel,” he said, bringing your hands up to his lips. “So so much. You’re my girl and I’d never even think about cheating on you. You have no reason to be jealous, I swear.”

He grabbed a hold of your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found their way into his hair, giving his scalp a scratch. You figured he had suffered enough, but just needed one more thing.

“I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me how you were feeling sooner so I could reassure you.”

“I know how you could reassure me.” You were trying to sound flirty, but weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Flirting was always Eddie’s thing.

“How?” He asked, pulling back to look up at you.

“I need you.” Eddie was quick to stand up, trying to understand what you mean.

“I’m right here, honey.” He pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. His hand rubbed your back in a comforting manner and normally, you would have taken that, but not tonight. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours. His cock inside you.

“No, Eddie. I need you.” Your eyes darkened again and he was finally catching on to what you were meaning.

“Oh,” he let out a laugh. “That was all you had to say.” He hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his two. He took no time to lick into your mouth while his hands reached for the bottom of your shirt. He pulled it up over your head and let it fall to the floor.

You unbuttoned his shirt and threw it behind you before attaching your lips to his, taking no time to plunge your tongue into his mouth. You backed him up to the bed and pushed him down onto it before straddling his waist.

“You’re so hot,” he breathed as your lips moved down to his neck, giving it a suck before moving back up to his mouth.

“You’re hotter.” Eddie quickly flipped you over so you were the one on the mattress and you let out a gasp at the sudden movement. He straddled your waist and pinned your wrists to the bed before going straight for your shoulder.

“No, baby. You’re the hottest. Your body is fucking killer.” Eddie loved your body. You weren’t skinny by any means, but that just gave him more love on. He loved pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could find, loving to give special attention to your stretch marks. He thought they were cute and that they made you unique.

“You think so?”

“I know so, honey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Want me to show you?” His face lit up as he said the words and it made you even more wet knowing that he was so happy to show you just how much he liked your body.

“Please,” you whined and he kissed his way down to your chest, pressing a kiss right in the center of it, right above the middle of your bra. “Take it off,” you commanded.

He pressed another kiss to the skin and moved his hands behind your back, unhooking it as slowly as he possibly could. He could hear your sighs of frustration and tried to hold back his chuckle. He very slowly undid each hook and removed the bra completely, letting it clatter to the floor beside the bed.

Eddie then pinned you back down to the mattress and looked down at you with a devilish grin. He was always such a fucking tease.

“You’re even hotter than I remember,” he complimented as he stared down at your tits.

“I got hotter just from last night?”

“Sure did. Now hush, honey. I’m about to do my best work.” He moved one of his hands to your nipple, massaging it with the pad of his thumb, just enough for to make it hard before he brought his mouth to it. He licked a stripe across it before giving it a suck.

“Oh,” you let out a moan and he took that as an invitation to bring it between his teeth giving it a little nibble. “Oh, Eddie.”

He did the exact same thing to the other nipple, eliciting more pretty sounds from you and he was eating it up. He loved that only he could get that reaction from you.

Eddie kissed his way down your stomach and stopped once he got to your waist. He pressed a featherlight peck to each of your stretch marks before looking up at you.

“Can I remove-“

“Yes,” you cut him off, getting desperate for him to get it over with.

“Needy,” he chuckled.

“And you’re a tease. I need your mouth on my clit.” You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you in one quick more before letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile behind him. He then reached for your underwear and slid them off before tossing them behind him. He lowered himself onto his knees then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he got a look at your pussy.

“Already wet for me, hm?” His fingers lightly grazed your cunt and you gave him that look that he knew all too well. You hated when he messed with you like this, but he did it just to see that angry look in your eyes. It never failed to make him hard. 

“I think we both know the answer to that.” Eddie liked you best when you were like that, all angry and bothered.

“Wow, doll,” his fingers stayed where they are, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing. Eddie liked it when you begged. “That just might be a record.” 

“Stop fucking around.” You usually liked the little games he liked to play, but not tonight.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased with a smirk and you were honestly on the verge of pleasuring yourself since he was taking too long. This was always how it went so you didn’t know why you ever expected anything different.  

“Of course I’m eager, I’m-” your words were cut off when Eddie thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Oh.”

“That’s right, doll.” His fingers pumped in and out, causing you to let out a moan. 

“Eddie,” you whined and he just smirked. 

“Say my name, honey.” He continued, thrusting them harder and faster as you let out another moan, grasping as the bedding underneath you, needing something to grab onto.

“Need your mouth, Eds,” you mewled and he removed his fingers before draping your legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before diving into your pussy and you let out a gasp. He licked a stripe from your slit to your clit before shoving it into your pussy, swirling it around as your hands dug further into the bedding.

You let out a loud moan and Eddie only buried his face further into your cunt, grazing the thing with his teeth and that drove you wild. You almost screamed at the sensation and Eddie did it once more to hear the sound again. Your thighs tightened at the feeling, causing them the press against the side of his head and he spread them, removing himself from your cunt.

You let out a whine at his absence and he ripped off his pants, desperate to be inside you. He moved to his bedside table and reached for his box of condoms, only to find that it was empty.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you told him, seeing what the issue was. And you were okay with it. You suddenly liked the idea of feeling his bare cock inside of you.

“You’re sure? What about-“

“If I get pregnant, I get pregnant,” you shrugged. The two of you had talked about having a baby and even discussed trying, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He couldn’t have been more happy, though. He loved the idea of having a baby that was a product of the two of you making love to each other.

“You want to have a baby with me?” His face lit up. Sure, being a rockstar was cool, but he was convinced that being a father and husband were the roles he was convinced he was put on this earth for.

“I’d be honored to have a baby with you, Eds.” You didn’t know why he was asking since you had talked about it at length.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he smiled, ripping off his underwear. He lined himself up with your pussy and slowly slid his dick into you. You let out a small noise as the sensation. You never had unprotected sex before so it felt a little odd at first, but you had to admit that you liked the way it felt, that there was no barrier between his cock and your pussy.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you, wanting it to be nice and sweet for once. He wanted this to be a sweet moment between the two of you. Something you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

His hands gripped your hips as he pumped in and out, paying you compliment after compliment, showering you with the sweetest words as he thrusted inside you, assuring you of his love for you.

You let out moan after moan as he pumped into you and you grabbed onto him, pressing your face into his neck. His thrusted a little harder and your fingers dug into his back, but not enough to actually hurt him.

“Taking me so well, honey,” he said, pumping a little faster and harder. He was just testing the waters to see what you liked without the condom.

“Eddie,” was all you were able to say, your words getting slurred as your head leaned back.

“I know, princess,” he brushed some sweaty hair out of your face. “Got one more for me, hon?”

“One more,” you repeated. He gave a couple more thrusts, these ones harder and faster than before and you let out the most pretty moans he had ever heard come from your mouth. He hadn’t thought you’d liked it rough, but he supposed his was wrong.

He pulled out and lowered you to the mattress before cleaning you up and getting you some fresh pajamas from the drawer you had them tucked away in. He helped you change into them then got into his own before getting you both under the covers.

You turned over to face him and you wrapped your arms around each other, tangling your legs together as you did so. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at you, the love of his life. God, he was so fucking lucky.

“I love you,” he smiled, bringing one of his hands up to your face and you smiled as well.

“I love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips in response.

“You’re going to be a great mom.” His thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek and you closed your eyes, loving the way it felt. You could tell he meant the words, not only because he never said anything he didn’t mean, but also because of the way he looked when he said it, his eyes all soft and sweet.

“And you’re going to be a great dad.” He felt himself tearing up at your words and yours teared up too. He pulled you in for another kiss and the two of you drifted off to sleep, thinking of nothing but cribs and high chairs and the extra bedroom you had that would have made a perfect nursery. Maybe if things went right, you’d actually be parents.

[sc0tters]

Make It Up | Quinn Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when you get left at the lake house with trevor and quinn, what happens when their bet has a way of helping you.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!jack hughes best friend x trevor zegras

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, threesome, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem and m receiving!), mild choking, degradation, spanking, swearing, weed, and drinking.

word count: 6.74k

authors note: strap in people for our @sweetestdesire smut where our inner whore was truly released. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! and did this take me a week? yes…

“Don’t be so stupid!”

You heard Trevor groan as someone - who you could only assume to be Quinn - hit the boy on the head “I’m just saying that maybe we should let her decide who gets her?” Trevor’s shrugged still letting his hand nurse the sore spot on his head.

The boys were sat on the couch unaware of the fact that you had woken up and crawled out of the comfort that was your bedroom “you make her sound like she’s some toy bro.” Quinn scowled, knowing you were worth more than that.

But the younger boy laughed, taking the captains apprehension for something else “look if you think I could fuck Y/N better then, I’ll understand if you want to concede.” His words made your eyes go wide finally realizing that it was you that they were talking about, not one of the girls who stayed in the area for the summer.

The idea within itself was complicated, you were Jack’s best friend. Had been since you both ended up reaching for the last coke can in the cooler during a party.

It was that awkward moment as your hands touched “you can have it.” Jack offered letting his hand drop.

You were a gorgeous girl that had Jack wondering why he hadn’t seen you before “we could split it.” You shook your head as you smiled.

That offer was far more suitable for the two of you as he nodded ‘I would but I sorta got this rule that I need to know your name before I share a drink with you.” He made this exaggerated sigh that made you laugh.

The hockey player watched you playfully roll your eyes “it’s Y/N.” You mumbled holding your hand out to meet his “Jack.”

But somehow they didn’t really care for the innocence of that memory that was the foundation of which your friendship with Jack was built on.

“Oh you are so fucking on.”

With their handshake it now felt time for your presence to be known “you boys coming with for a run?” You forced a smile onto your lips acting like your mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute thinking about what they wanted to have be in store for you.

Their faces were red as their eyes went wide with fear wondering how much of that you had heard “geez, you’d think a bunch of athletes would be a little more cooperative.” You raised your hands in surrender assuming they wanted to discuss more of their conversation.

So they watched you walk off, sliding your shoes on before you sent them a salute. The boys grew jealous of your shorts and sports bra watching the material hug your breasts and the curve of your ass before you left them alone.

The desire that filled their bones was almost enough to have them run after you. But with the reminder of the fact that, the house was set to remain with just the three of you for another five days, they knew they could wait. After all, they couldn’t allow themselves to be seen as too desperate right?

Your initial plan for the summer was to have one last bit of fun before you headed off to work. After college you were left with two different offers which ironically enough, were in Vancouver and Anaheim. So now you were left with a measly week to reveal to them exactly which one you were going to take.

Now part of you was willing to just pick yourself, but being so indecisive by nature. When the idea came up of someone else picking for you, you practically chomped at the bit. Still refusing to let the figments of fantasy that your mind created around the boys plan, that they still didn’t bring up to your face.

But truthful it was all they could think about when they watched you fall asleep on the boat as the three of you grew used to each other. Settling into a routine what seemed to almost always have you in your bikini “I’m bored.” You whined skipping the song on Trevor’s playlist as you didn’t think you could handle the sounds of Drake once more.

You had been sat on the arm of the couch as you watched the boys play pool, after giving up when you lost for a fifth time in a row. As you sat up straight it made the boys smile turning their attentions to you “so what do you propose we do?” Trevor had a blunt between his fingers as he offered you a hit.

His eyes practically jumped into what felt like your soul as you nodded. Opening your lips slightly as you allowed him to rest it on your lower lip. Both boys watched in awe as your eyes never left Trevor’s “now breathe out f’me pretty girl.” His voice was soft as it made you feel at ease letting some of the herbal taste still on your tongue before you followed the instructions.

Trevor brought the blunt up to his own lips as even Quinn walked over to the two of you “what do you wanna do now doll?” The pet names had you feeling fuzzy when his hand was placed on your thigh.

It made you squirm as the alcohol in your system had you feeling everything in a tenfold strength “I want you both.” You confessed bringing the white claw that you were drinking to your lips to taste the mango flavored drink.

The boys swore they were dreaming, like their prayers had been answered and heavens gates opened. Yet when they remembered that they hadn’t brought it up to you panic did start to set in for the two of them.

Part of you realized your minor error and smiled as your cheeks turned a soft shade of pink “maybe it could help me decide where I go.” You shrugged running your fingers through your hair “and besides, it’s not like the two of you didn’t already want to fuck me.”

Trevor smirked running his fingers along his jaw as he looked down at you “y’know it’s rude to talk about someone behind their back.” He pointed out shaking his head, as if he was pretending to be disappointed that you had listened in on their conversation.

But instead a soft laugh left your lips as you took his dying blunt from him letting it rest between your fingers “thought it was worse to talk about someone though?” You quipped back bringing your feet up to the couches on either side of you, revealing the wet patch in your red bikini bottoms as you smirked “so if anything, I think we should be starting with an apology.” Your words were directed to them both as they couldn’t but almost cum on the spot as they watched your hand run down your bare thigh, with your baseball jersey - that you had most definitely stolen from Luke - falling to your sides.

The air in the room grew warm as the boys wondered who should really make the first move “princess if you want us to act sorry then you gotta do something for me first.” Quinn spoke up, almost in awe of how your eyes looked up at him when you nodded.

Quinn placed his fingers under your chin forcing your head up “go sit on the table f’me please.” Even as he had a tone strong enough to make your entire body squirm, he was still the well mannered boy that his mom raised him to be.

So of course you listened, short bursts of movement left the felt material against your ass “who do you want more of an apology from?” Trevor went to step in front of you as it was he who came up with the original idea of the agreement. Meaning that he was sure to be the most logical to be blamed.

But instead your eyes never left Quinn “someone who thought his morals were too good to fuck me.” The captain let his head drop as he realized that you had also heard the part where he tried to say no.

Somehow Trevor wasn’t disappointed to be shut down, instead he found himself comfortably on the pool table behind you “rest your pretty little head f’me doll.” Trevor mumbled spreading his legs to allow you to rest against him.

His fingers brushed over your collarbone as he smiled “Quinny you gonna fuck her or keep us both waiting?” The younger player couldn’t help but grumble still jealous that it wasn’t him between your legs.

Quinn tapped the pads of his fingertips over the insides of your thighs “been thinking about getting you like this since I met ya.” His confession made you blush as you remembered the day you picked up Jack’s FaceTime call from the older boy.

So you sent him a smile as he tapped your thigh motioning to you to push off of your hips making his cock throb against his boxers at the way you were so responsive to him. It took him a moment to hook his fingers into the bottoms of your swimsuit as he sucked in his breath, watching in awe at how your panties slid off of your legs “you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” Quinn murmured to himself as he pressed his hands on the table to stop you from shutting your legs.

He kissed up your skin, making sure to not miss a spot in his efforts to spread his love equally between your two legs “please.” Your voice drew a shaky whimper “since you asked so nicely.” The captain smirked, dropping his face down to meet your cunt.

His tongue was rough against your slit “shit!” You gasped pushing back against Trevor as your eyes fluttered feeling the new sensation

It made him smile as he watched your head look up to him “hi pretty girl.” Trevor mumbled as he cupped your cheek keeping you close as his lips hovered over yours.

He pressed a soft kiss against your lips wanting to keep your attention but as Quinn slotted his tongue into your cunt, it made you moan unintentionally giving Trevor the chance to slot his tongue between your lips. Quinn enjoyed how you tasted on his tongue letting his nose bump your clit occasionally to draw your eyes back to him “fuck Quinn!” You whimpered feeling the scruff of his beard against the inside of your thighs.

The captain practically treated you like you were his last meal, constantly sucking and licking as he replaced his tongue with his fingers letting the calloused skin stretch your cunt out. Quinn took the opportunity to watch you in awe “is this a good enough apology f’you?” He mumbled finally letting his tongue focus on your sensitive clit.

Your mind went foggy as you arched your back letting your ass press against Trevor’s boner that tried to push through his shorts “think Quinny boy asked you a question doll.” You could feel the younger boy’s warm breath against your neck as he ran his fingers up the sides of your chest.

His hands were rough as they found their place on the bikini top that did little to cover your breasts “since you won’t need this tonight.” Cockiness soaked his voice as the door air hit your hardening nipples, feeling the fabric that once covered them get pushed to the side.

Incoherent whimpers of apology felt from your lips as Trevor caught your breasts in between his fingers “s-so good.” You nodded feeling your fingers tug through Quinn’s locks that you had somehow convinced him not to cut coming into summer.

The new pain in his scalp made him grunt as the sensation traveled down to his cock, only making his tongue as his fingers move faster as he curved his fingers that thrusted into your cunt “I’m gonna.” You warned feeling your body grow tight as your toes curled when your eyes locked in on him.

Trevor’s antic’s only seemed to increase at that point rolling your sensitive peaks against his skin, bringing his lips down to suck at your ear lobe as he let his grunts echo on your ears.

You bit your lip as you squirmed, Quinn still attacking your clit in awe of the way you became a mess in his hands. As he tapped the pool table with two fingers from his free hand it seemed that he and Trevor had a secret language “he want’s you to make a mess on the table sweet girl.” Trevor’s mumble was all that you needed to finally reach your orgasm.

The walls around you absorbed the sounds of your cries and the way that you used each of your hands to each one boy close to you. Your body came crashing down from the high as if you had been brought to shore by a wave that knocked the wind out of your chest “lay off her for a second.” Trevor almost felt like he was getting protective over you as you struggled to regain your breathing with Quinn still lapping away at your cunt.

Quinn’s chin glistened from your juices and you couldn’t help but whimper using the remaining bits of your energy to lean forward to kiss him. Getting to taste your salty release on his tongue as it mixed with the array of drinks that he had been having through the day “fuck baby.” Quinn let out a grunt as he had to pull away from you just as you got into the kiss when his phone went off.

The contact that illuminated his screen was Josh and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at it “I need to take this.” Quinn sighed wanting to kill his friend as he saw the previous two miss calls from earlier in the day.

You nodded - not like you had much choice anyways - as he left the room, leaving you to breathe against Trevor “hi pretty girl.” Trevor laughed as he caught your grin.

He helped you sit up straight “you still with us?” His voice was soft seeing your eyes begin to grow heavy.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, body coming down from what could have been drowning. Once not being able to even breathe but now sat trying to process all that had happened “of course I am.” You grumbled looking down to see your breasts still out of your bikini top.

His hands reached for the two parts of triangle fabric before he pulled them together covering your breasts when you yawned “okay we are getting you to bed.” You wanted to argue with him but Trevor instead pressed a kiss to your lips.

It was enough to silence you honestly in surprise of such a soft gesture “I promise I’ll make sure to fuck you tomorrow.” He offered making your cheeks go red as he helped you off of the table.

You sent him a sweet smile ignoring the way that your thighs pressed together as the alcohol in your head made your eyes go heavy “don’t fall asleep before I figure out how to take your makeup off.”

The memories of that night stayed in your mind even as you lay on the seat at the back of the boat letting the sun coat you skin in a gorgeous glow. Even as you pretended to be asleep, no slumber would be powerful enough to nullify the power the boy’s gaze had. It wasn’t the sun that cooked your body, it was instead the attention that they sent you.

Last night was painful for them both as they had to sort themselves out, yet the sight of you in that new bikini reminded them of the important message: this is a marathon, not a sprint. Yet still Trevor couldn’t help but jump off of his seat as the moment that Quinn killed the engine. The area they picked was quiet, in the years they went not a single person beyond the group in the boat had been seen.

That was partly the reason why they picked it today. The soft marks on your neck reminded them of the night before, and they both needed more “you know I can feel you watching right?” You blurted out feeling the sun that once shone on you, now partially blocked by a body that stood over you.

Trevor smirked as he clicked his tongue “should have given us a show then.” He winked watching you sit up straight to look at him “do my best ones with a bit more music than this.” Your words were intended to be playful but instead Trevor pulled his phone out of his pocket as he scrolled to a playlist.

You expected to hear the soft sounds of whatever rap music that was on his Spotify playlist, but instead it was your own picks in the yearly lake house mixtape you crafted. Quinn had joined the two of you in the back of the boat “don’t be a brat.” His hand tugged through his hair making you remember how it felt between your fingers just hours before.

The boys knew you were good but letting them watch you in nothing more than what seemed to be your tiniest bikini as you let your ass hang in there air “fuck pretty girl.” Trevor couldn’t help palm his cock through his pants locking eyes with you.

You licked your lips attempting to crawl to him in the most sultry manner possible “should I finally make you feel good?” You asked as you placed your hands on his knees, using the little upper body strength that you have to push yourself onto him.

The sight made the boys mouths water as you straddled the Ducks player’s thighs “think I should fuck you yet?” The question oozed from your lips as he whimper, feeling your hand close over his “please.” Trevor nodded wanting every inch of you in that moment.

Your lips were soft against his ear “you wanna join my show and put one on for Quinn?” You sucker at his lobe grinding your cunt against him as you pulled his hand out from his pants bringing it to your breast instead “oh shit.” The boy whined as he swore he felt your folds spread for his cock.

Quinn had no shame letting his shorts go halfway down his thighs. His cock was in his hands as he pumped himself “need to hear your words.” You cooed pushing into your knees as you let the flimsy material of your bikini top catch his eyes.

Your breasts looked perfect - they always do - but now that sight has his shorts ready to rip at the seam “use me doll.” Trevor forced the words out from his lips with a deep breath, trying to keep some once of strength.

His eyes locked with yours as you froze, checking that he was being serious “want your cunt all over my cock.” He begged making you catch your lower lip between your teeth.

You got up making his expression grow hurt “gotta take these off unless you plan on fucking me through them.” You pointed out and you swore that there was something in the air that made them both contemplate it for a second.

But as they watched your bikini bottoms drop to the ground they realized what it was all truth “fuck Y/n please.” Trevor tugged his shorts down finally letting his cock hit his pelvic bone “you are so responsive.” You grinned letting your ass meet his cock.

He hissed at the feeling of you dragging his cock over your slit before you sunk down on it. You had opted to sit facing away from him so that you could have a similar effect on Quinn too “shit baby.” Trevor watched your legs spread on either side on the boat bench before you began to push off of his cock.

The movements were ones that the two of you quickly fell into letting him help you out as your walls hugged his cock letting him guide the pace “this pussy is heaven.” Trevor announced making Quinn grow jealous.

He had seen you first, so you were meant to be his. But somehow you were sat making Trevor feel good “wanna suck your cock.” You blurted out snapping your head to Quinn who nodded.

The boy tucked himself back into his shorts as he got up, paying little attention to the sounds of your skin slapping against Trevor’s lap. Your legs tucked to the sides, trying to make it easier for you to bounce as his cock grazed your sweet spot.

Trevor was feeling awfully possessive as his fingers dug into your sides taking charge of the thrusts pace “can’t have you move.” He gritted as you leaned forward to kiss Quinn, forcing Trevor to elongate his thrusts in order to feel your cunt in its entirety.

Quinn’s lips were rough against yours as you let your hand trail down to his waistband, tugging them down to his sides “you poor guy.” You clicked your tongue as you went to wrap your hand around his cock.

But Trevor lay a hard slap to your ass that made you jump “behave before we make sure to fuck you like the real whore that you are.” He warned tugging at the bow of your bikini letting the material fall from your breasts again “sorry Quinny.” You apologized batting your eyelashes at him as he smiled.

The older boy ran his fingers through your hair “think you know how to make it up to me.” He nodded as you dropped your head “cause you don’t get to cum until you’ve finished him off in your mouth.” Trevor’s words were meant to make you freeze with fear, but instead you took it as a challenge.

Your tongue ran over the underside of his cock as your eyes locked with Quinn’s “fuck it’s like she wants to be treated like a slut.” The Hughes boy grunted as he tugged his fingers through your hair.

Quinn was big in your mouth, his cock was hitting the back of your throat as he refused to let you even think about teasing him. Your eyes fluttered as they got into a rhythm. For every time that Trevor thrusted deeper into your cunt, Quinn would pull back.

Only for them to then switch roles “wonder what Jack would think seeing his best friend between us?” Trevor asked as he let his hand travel down your clit.

A moan let your lips when your cunt clenched around his cock, at the feeling of his fingers against your sensitive nub “think she likes the idea of being caught like that huh?” Quinn egged you on.

He let his head fall back when you tilted your head forward to take more of his cock in your mouth “this mouth was made to be fucked Jesus.” The captain let out a grunt as he felt your nails claw at this thighs attempting to help gain back some control.

Even with that you still gagged on his cock treating it like a drug that you needed so much more of, for each time Trevor’s cock hit your cunt deeper. For every time you swore you felt the ducks player in your brain, he seemed to push you that much further.

You were a moaning mess as your legs began to shake swearing that you felt a bruise form on your pelvis “aghhh.” Your saliva dripped down your chin as your cunt clamped around Trevor.

At that point Quinn was doing all of the work fucking your throat “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.

Trevor was doing everything that he could to not coat the walls of your cunt as you clenched around him “play with her tits.” He knew you weren’t going to last long as your cunt gushed around him “she fucking loves it.” He added with a smirk as you whimpered, forcing your thighs closer together as the thought of them taking about you like you weren’t there made you squirm.

His hands were rough against your breasts and that combined with the feeling against your clit and how Trevors cock was practically in your stomach at this point, was too much for you. Tears flooded your waterline as your body thrashed against them.

Quinn felt his orgasm quickly approach as your throat tightened around his cock finally sending him over the edge “shit doll.” Quinn’s thrusts grew inconsistent as he pressed his fingers into the back of your scalp as he “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.

So it seemed that one tug of your nipples was enough to finally let Quinn shoot his release into your mouth, sure to not waste a drop of it. Your nose was pressed against his skin as he caught his breath thrusting once or twice more. Certain that his cock was milked dry before he pulled out “holy shit.” As the captain fought to regain his breath again it sent Trevor into overdrive.

His pace grew animal hearing the grunt that left Quinn’s lips as he watched you swallow his release as if it was nothing “shit Z.” You whimper letting your own fingers tug at your breasts when you were spun around to face Trevor.

The boy was desperate to watch you cum “a deal is a deal pretty thing so go make a mess on my cock.” Was all you needed to hear to fall against him “fuck Trevor!” Your teeth sunk into his shoulder to muffle your moans when your walls clenched around his cock.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt his release mark up your walls when he planted your hips against his to try to stop you from squirming anymore “holy shit.” You gasped as your chest heaved trying to process the black specs that were still in your vision.

They laughed watching Trevor reach behind you to do up your bikini top when they heard the sound of a boat engine “it seems we might have some company.” And with that you were back on the boat bench with a towel wrapped around your hips as you waited for a chance to put your bottoms back on.

The boys thought that the timing of the other boat was horrible, but you were just glad that you had came before it decided to.

You walked back to the house from the dock in Trevor’s shirt as you laughed priding it now as your own. Quinn watched the younger boy almost chase you up the grass making you squeal like you were going to lose, even as the hockey player had the cooler in his hands “guys.” You were quick to freeze the moment you realized that the front door was left wide open.

Trevor took the chance to bump into you as he grinned “told you I would get my shirt back.” He smirked until his eyes followed yours bringing up similar questions “nice to see someone finally show up.” Josh teased as he locked eyes with you.

This wasn’t the first trip you had met him on and your cheeks grew a soft tint of red when he looked down realizing that he had walked into a rather interesting dynamic “the three of us were just on the boat.” You explained bringing your hair in front of your neck to cover where Trevor had his hands on your throat “hey guys.” You and Trevor did little to hide your glares at Quinn as the eldest Hughes boy walked up.

Quinn awkwardly smiled looking towards his friends for any kind of help “was gonna tell you two last night but then you went to bed early.” He shrugged making the mental note to apologize to you after on in the day.

That was all hours ago and now it seemed that the plans of the summer of sex were now nothing more than a fun memory. You couldn’t sleep properly in the now fuller house so as you saw the time was three a.m, you opted for a midnight snack. It was a common occurrence for you as you continued to curse the creaky floorboards that sat beneath your feet.

Quinn had heard it as he too struggled to sleep with the sounds of Josh’s snores now coming from next to him “you really did fuck me over buddy.” Quinn sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair wanting to be mad at the boys for how their arrival was indeed a giant cock block. Quinn had tried convincing them to come at least a day or two after their proposed date, but the requests clearly fell onto deaf ears.

In the kitchen you stood with a bowl of fruits that you were grateful you cut up the day before. The mix of mango and watermelon was tasty on your tongue as you cracked open a white claw, figuring that you might as well give yourself the time to relax properly “you got room f’one more?” Quinn asked as he walked down the stairs to see you comfortably situated against the counter.

Your eyes sharpened as he continued his walk towards you “depends.” You sighed putting another mango cube into your mouth “your friends gonna come down and decide that they want some too?” The spite in your voice made it clear to him that you were still so beyond annoyed that he had done that to the two of you.

It made the captain scoff “look I didn’t ask for them to come early.” He shot back as he rolled his eyes “so don’t fucking bitch about it like it is my fault.” He warned you clearly not impressed by the new attitude you had.

However his words only seemed to light a fire beneath you “well what are you gonna do if I don’t stop being a brat?” Your words were curious as you bit into a piece of mango accidentally letting the juice of it slide down your chin and onto your t-shirt “because you aren’t really the kind of guy who is gonna fuck me back into my place.” You took a step closer to him as you reminded him of the game of never have I ever from last summer. When Quinn decided to let Jack and Trevor know that they were disgusting for having had slept with girls whilst everyone was under the roof of the house.

But this time something snapped in Quinn. His lips were quickly on yours as you swore you had never seen so much anger in his eyes “you think this is a fucking funny joke don’t ya?” The hockey player spat as he pushed you onto the counter where you placed the bowl behind you “hell you’re probably soaked at the thought of me fucking you for them all to hear.” He added pushing the sleep shirt you wore up to reveal the white panties you had beneath it.

He let out a grunt seeing the wet patch on them “why did you have to act like such a fucking brat if all you wanted was to be fucked?” The boy asked letting his two fingers collect your wetness as they made their way between your folds.

Your lips pressed together as you stopped yourself from letting out a moan, but that only made him more annoyed as he pushed through into your cunt “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to speak already?” Quinn spat as he brought his hand to rest around your throat “n-no.” Tears formed in your eyes as you felt the skin of his palm graze over your clit.

Quinn felt his cock grow hard as he felt you clench around him “please.” You begged bringing your hips up to meet his fingers as you so badly needed more “use your words.” He instructed as he began to slow down his thrusts using it as a warning against you.

You shook your head as your fingers gripped at the edge of the counter “need your cock.” You blurted out making his fingers force themselves even deeper into the gummy walls of your cunt “think you deserve it?” He taunted bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.

The boy wondered if he was being too rough with you all of a sudden “just wanna cum on your cock.” You whined not having a care in the world for the concerns that had flashed across his face.

Those words made him tug your panties down over your feet as he let them form into a ball “would hate for the boys to hear ya.” He pointed out placing them into your mouth as he pulled you off of the counter.

Before you knew it, you were facing the staircase with your stomach against the counter as Quinn lined up his cock with your entrance. He took the time to spread his precum across your slit as you let out a muffled moan “fuck Z was right about how good this cunt is.” Quinn let out a grunt as he felt your walls quick to hug him.

Trevor knew he shouldn’t have chugged the whole bottle of water before bed, but somehow he did it and was now wide awake after going to pee. But what stopped him from ending back in his room was the fact that your door was wide open and you were now nowhere in sight.

It made his lips form a frown until he saw the low light creep up the stairs that came from the kitchen. He thought that you must have just been tired wanting a snack and he smirked to himself as he went to offer you some company.

The creaks of the floorboards made you whimper as your eyes went wide “fuck princess maybe someone is gonna walk in on you being such a slut.” Your cheeks were stained from your tears as the boy continued to let his hips snap into yours.

The idea of it happening made your cunt clench around him as he lay a slap on your ass “but maybe it’s what you wanted all of this time huh?” Quinn taunted you as a muffled moan left your lips letting your spit soak your panties.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you grew nervous seeing the feet walk down the steps as you swore that Quinn’s pace had somehow gotten quicker as he made bruised your pelvis consistently pressing against your g-spot “would you look at that.” Trevor smirked as he caught sight of Quinn fucking you. You looked like a mess, Quinn’s hand in your hair and your mouth stuffed with your own panties “honestly I am offended that you guys didn’t wake me up for this.” He pointed out as he walked down the remainder of the steps.

Trevor felt his cock grow hard as he was finally able to see the proper sight of how Quinn fucked your cunt “let me hear ya now then.” His words were soft as he pulled your panties from your mouth.

With that came a string of loose moans that had your entire body shaking “doll is he fucking you good?” Trevor quizzed as he gripped your chin between his fingers.

You whimpered with a nod as your lips formed a pout feeling his free hand reach down to rub at your clit “woulda fucked you too but it seems I’m too late to the party.” The ducks player faked being hurt as the view of your blown pupils were enough to make him feel better.

Your cunt squelched as the sounds of skin slapping echoed off of the walls around you “shit.” Your head fell forward as you rested it on Trevors shoulder feeling your eyes screw shut as each boy played apart in your pleasure.

The boys locked eyes with each other as they knew they shared the common goal of making you cum “squeezing me so tight I might lose my dick in it.” Quinn warned as he tugged his fingers through your hair letting out a grunt as he felt his cock throb when you clenched.

Trevor felt your tears soak his skin as he forced your face up to look at him “what’s got you all sad pretty girl?” He taunted you pressing his thumb into your clit harder when you whimpered.

You felt your eyes flutter as pleasure built in your stomach as your hands gripped at Trevors shoulders “just wanna cum so bad.” You confessed feeling that if you hadn’t been between the two of them that you would have been on the floor in a mess.

It made the boys moan in delight as they began to think about how needy you were “oh I think you know how to ask is better than that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as Quinn wanted to reach over to kill him, worried that he couldn’t handle much more of fucking you.

Your throat felt raw as Trevor used his free hand to wrap around hit “please let me cum.” You pleaded “just wanna feel so good on his cock.” Trevor looked to Quinn who nodded “go on pretty girl.” Trevor nodded finally giving you the green light.

The coil in your stomach broke as Trevor’s pace of his rough fingers against your clit didn’t let up, much like Quinn’s thrusts as he fucked you through your orgasm “shit shit shit!” You chanted the course of words as your body shook clenching around Quinn as it trigged his own orgasm.

His release sprayed up the walls of your cunt placing his mark on you too as they didn’t stop their actions until you went quiet. Quinn’s cock hit the inside of your thigh as he pulled out of you.

Trevor brushed your hair out of your thighs as he heard the sound of the floor creaking once more meaning that someone was awake.

As your adrenaline crashed your eyes went wide pushing the boys away from you as you pulled your shirt down over your ass “panties?” You asked forgetting which boy hand them.

Trevor pulled it out of his pocket as he tapped your ankle to help you put them on “now I might not be a genius, but unless we want a real audience I suggest we go to bed.” Trevor pointed out as you nodded feeling Quinns cum soak your panties as it pressed against your slit.

You nodded as the boys helped you back up the steps picking up on your shaky legs it left them needing to carry you up the stairs.

Watching them leave your room you were brought back to the decision that you knew you needed to make, only one of them could get you. Sure they could share for the summer, but you had a job in one of their cities.

The summer had gone by in the blink of an eye and now you were in his apartment getting ready for the first day of work “happy first day to me I guess.” You teased coming down from your high as you had woken up to him between your legs.

It was truly his favorite place to be “I am just making sure that your day is off to the best start.” He shrugged as he crawled through the sheet and let his face hover over yours as he let your release act like a badge of honor.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed “you’re such a goof.” You mumbled as you kissed his lips shaking your head.

He melted into it as he grinned “but I’m your goof.” Trevor reminded you as he pulled you into his arms letting you roll onto his stomach as he kissed your head.

You hoped that Anaheim would be just as good to you as he was.

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiiii!! Can I request a daniel ricciardo x driver! reader? Like a grumpy! reader x sunshine! danny? with a hint of friends to lovers but the grid doesn’t know?

I was so excited to see someone open their request and can’t wait to read everythinggggg! Super grateful for the opportunity🫶 may you have a great time writing<3

Ps. It’s totally okay if this doesn’t get a response, I still look forward reading your other works ❤️

she's my grump

the monaco grand prix was always a whirlwind. the air crackled with champagne and exhaust fumes, celebrities swarmed the paddock, and for danny ricciardo, it was pure electric. but amidst the chaos, his gaze always landed on you, his secret weapon – literally and figuratively.

you, (y/n) (l/n), were the engineer who made his car a sleek, purring beast. you were also the complete opposite of him. where danny was sunshine personified, you were a sly smile and a dry wit, a black cat in a room full of golden retrievers. being slightly reserved whilst dating the man with the biggest smile would seem odd to others, but danny loved you in all your light.

"alright team!" danny boomed, his energy radiating as he clapped his hands. "let's make monaco ours!"

you, in redbull uniform, raised an eyebrow. "more coffee, sunshine?" you deadpanned, handing him a steaming mug.

he grinned, taking a swig. "thanks, (y/n). you're a lifesaver." he winked, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "just remember, if we win, that victory shoey is all yours."

you snorted, a small sound that always tickled danny's heart. "just don't splash champagne on me and make sure you don't scratch the car."

he chuckled, leaning closer. "don't worry, love. i wouldn't dream of it." the last word was barely a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. you were dating for a few months now, a secret you both fiercely guarded. it wasn't because you were ashamed, rather it was to protect both of your personal lives. you had been friends for seven years and dating for one year. all the other drivers loved you and saw you as a little sister. being the polar opposite of daniel, everyone thought you were a match made in heaven.

flashback

the cityscape of singapore twinkled below, a kaleidoscope of neon against the inky night. danny, relaxed after a podium finish, leaned against the balcony railing, a beer balanced precariously in his hand. you perched on a nearby chair, fiddling with a stray napkin. six years of friendship, countless late-night talks, and a simmering desire that threatened to boil over. tonight, you were determined to make a move.

"crazy race, right?" you started, your voice barely above a whisper. you hated how nervous you felt around him, a stark contrast to your usual sharp wit.

danny chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "yeah, those final laps were a heart-stopper. but hey, at least i didn't get sandwiched between bottas and verstappen this time."

you managed a smile. "true. though, witnessing your car-handling skills under pressure is always a treat for the eyes." a teasing lilt crept into your voice, the one that usually made him laugh. but tonight, he just raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours.

"so," you continued, feeling a familiar heat creep up your cheeks, "about that victory dinner tomorrow night..."

"yeah?" he prompted, taking a swig of his beer.

"well, i was thinking, maybe we could..." you trailed off, the carefully rehearsed words dissolving on your tongue. frustration bubbled within you. why was this so hard?

"maybe we could what?" danny asked gently, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

you squeezed the napkin in your hand, the flimsy paper threatening to tear. "forget it. it's stupid."

"hey," danny said, setting his beer down and turning to face you fully. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now soft and serious. "nothing you say is stupid, (y/n)."

you looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. "except maybe what i was about to say."

a beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. you felt a tear prick your eye, the frustration morphing into a strange mix of despair and defiance.

"look, danny," you blurted out, your voice shaky, "we've been friends for, what, six years now? we practically share a brain when it comes to the car. but lately... lately, things feel different."

he stepped closer, his presence a tangible warmth in the cool night air. "different how?"

you took a shaky breath. "i don't know how to say this. it's stupid, really. but..." you met his gaze, your voice barely audible, "i think i might be falling for you."

the words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of surprise crossed danny's face, then a slow smile spread across his lips. it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"you think?" he said, his voice a husky whisper. he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the stray tear that escaped your eye.

"maybe," you mumbled, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

before you could say anything else, danny closed the gap between you. his kiss was soft, tentative at first, then deepened with a newfound urgency. it was a kiss filled with unspoken desires, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. you melted into him, the familiar warmth of his friendship now tinged with a passionate intensity that left you breathless.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breath.

"i think i might be falling for you too, (y/n)," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "a lot more than maybe."

a laugh, shaky but genuine, escaped your lips. relief washed over you, mingled with a newfound sense of joy. in the neon glow of singapore night, under the watchful gaze of a million twinkling stars, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

end of flashback

the qualifying session was a nail-biter. you watched from the pit wall, your fingers unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the table. danny caught your eye, flashed a reassuring smile, and then was off, a blur of blue and red. when he secured pole position, the team erupted.

in the celebratory chaos, danny spotted you amidst the throng, a lone island of calm amidst the cheering. he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you. reaching you, he bent down slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

"ready to celebrate, ms. genius ?" he asked, extending his hand.

you smirked, a playful jab back. "only if it involves avoiding exuberant displays of footwear."

he laughed, a sound that always warmed your heart. "no promises, love," he winked, then surprised you. his hand, instead of taking yours, brushed yours lightly, his pinky extending out and interlocking with yours.

you knew what it meant. a silent exchange in your secret language. a small gesture, easily missed by others, but to you, it was a secret handshake, a whispered affirmation in the middle of the storm. your own pinky curled around his, a silent promise. being a black cat dating the biggest golden retriever

the race was a heart-stopper. strategy calls crackled through your earpiece, fueling your anxiety. finally, the checkered flag fell, and danny emerged victorious. the roar of the crowd was deafening.

as danny jumped out of the car, his helmet still on, he scanned the crowd. his eyes met yours, and a wide grin split his face. he sprinted towards you, the cameras flashing around you. but he ignored them all, reaching you and scooping you into a tight hug.

"we did it, (y/n)!" he shouted, his voice muffled by your silky hair.

you hugged him back tightly, a surge of relief and pride washing over you. in that moment, under the watchful eyes of the oblivious crowd, you knew your secret weapon wasn't just the science behind the car. it was the sunshine-haired driver with whom you shared a silent language, a pinky promise, and a love that thrived even in the whirlwind of monaco.

the other drivers, who had long suspected something between you two, exchanged knowing glances. lewis hamilton raised a knowing eyebrow at max verstappen. "looks like ricciardo found his lucky charm," he remarked.

max just grinned. "more like his secret weapon."

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[qvnthesia]

in action. (a tbb hunter one-shot)

a hunter/jedi!reader (afab) fic.

the pitch: seeing hunter in action inspired a different flame in you, one that you wanted everything to do with.

a/n: okay look — i know i know i was supposed to update my tvd fic but IT’S HUNTER COME ON this man has captivated my heart my soul my body my legs—*ahem* anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic! dedicated to @/xajnie on tbbtwt, thank you for fuelling the hunter admiration <33 i’ve had to change the plot 4 times — FOUR TIMES (fuck writer's block) — so, once again, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1, 426

theme/warning: fluff, and references to smut. implied enemies to lovers dynamic. reader is an adrenaline junkie <33 (yes i’m projecting yes i’ve become a whore for this man yes i’m not ashamed) — putting an 18+ warning just to be on the safe side 💗

You were staring.

Here’s the thing—Jedi weren't supposed to stare like that. They were supposed to observe, analyse their environments and maintain peace and harmony accordingly.

Granted, you had spectacularly failed at that mindful endeavour when you had stormed through the Zygerrian stronghold. You cut through hordes of clankers with a brazen and bold strut, freed civilians fleeing behind you for cover as you advanced forward. You supposed your lightsaber would have yielded some ‘yielding’ results from the enemy, but your master’s warning about your thrill-seeking tendencies rang in your brain, and you were too late. Now enslaved to the cruel species, you didn't have much of a leeway, much to your amused chagrin, with a shock collar saddled around your neck, sharp electric cords having forced you on your knees with your bound wrists lying between your legs.

Now, however, you weren't regretting being bound at all.

There was a reason the clones had more advantages than the Separatists. They were men, they were alive, they were people who had thoughts and dreams of their own. Every trooper you had been graced with the privilege of serving alongside with had their own quirks, distinguished by their own art, moral and valour.

The sargeant was more.

As the de-facto commanding officer of the Bad Batch, Hunter had had his initial doubts about you. He was a man who wasn't used to deferring his leadership, especially not to someone who had gone from Captain to Commander to General within a span of months. But you were a Jedi, and he never voiced his doubts even though you could still feel the bitter edges of his annoyance and his purposefully positioned distance reduced to nothing but professionalism and workplace discipline.

You thought that being a Jedi, you’d stick to the military civility and get the job done.

But the Sargeant made it hard to be a stickler for the rules.

You centered yourself in the Force, ignoring the deep tug from your pulsing womanhood as Hunter battled a horde of Zygerrian slavers, hand-to-hand.

This wasn't the first time you’d watched him fight. Sure, he fought for the good of the Republic, but you’d be lying if you said watching him kick ass wasn't a scrumptious treat for your sore eyes.

Aside from the clankers begging for mercy, he spared none as he sank his knife into the droids. His pauldrons strained against his biceps as he wrapped his arms around the commando ones until their circuitry sparked and fizzled into haphazard disassembly. There were moments where it was just comfortable silence, you working on your lightsaber again while he kept twirling his knife until he sheathed it under his forearms and got up to receive the latest mission briefing. Your veins always swam with his every move, your gaze drinking every smug tug of his chapped lips as he gave a two-fingered salute and decimated battalions, his fingers curling in the exact way you’d imagined him inside you.

It was as if the war suddenly ceased to matter, your Code rendered obsolete within a span of seconds as he brgan filling your thoughts. His breath mixing with yours, fingers tangled in his hair, all resistance forgotten, his skin on yours, bodies joined, his light inside you, rendering you delirious and needy with pleasure. His smoky voice filling your ears with the filthiest of murmurs as he claimed every inch of you, gazing down upon you with a dark, heavy-lidded stare that he’d directed at you whenever he disagreed with you and your near-suicidal yet successful strategies.

You’d committed his every move to your memory. It wasn't hard to forget, being sensitive to everything down to the molecules around.

It was then you sensed it, panic flooding your limbs as a yellow whip cracked the air.

“HUNTER—”

Your warning died, lips parting in sharp, rippling surprise as the whip curled around Hunter’s arm. The electricity travelled up his body, and you struggled against the bonds, being hit with electricity tailored to make you kneel.

That’s when you heard it. A low growl. The strangled primal voice ripping out of Hunter’s throat as he stood up on his two feet. Your mind practically exploded as you stared openly, mental shields frayed from something between pain and admiration, the kind inspired by a promise of the forever you’d sworn not to chase.

Gripping the blazing whip, Hunter yanked the Zygerrian man towards him, stopping an imminent collision as he bent the slaver’s wrists with a painful wrench and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, careening the scum across the dark bridge of the facility until his body collided with the console and fell to the floor with a useless crumple.

You let out an exhale, relieved. Your legs were trembling from the exertion employed from resisting being beaten into submission. But you stood up on your two feet, shaky.

“Right on time, huh?”

You met his helmet, stark, and sighed again.

“Okay, I know you're mad and yes, I should’ve take the offer for backup—”

You’re cut off as his helmet hits the ground with a thud and he makes straight for you. Before you can say anything, his fingers rip off the collar your neck and undo your restraints.

“Hunter—”

Your confusion muffles into shock as he pulls you towards him and brings your lips into his.

Your heart nearly explodes, its pace picking up as your eyelids instantly droop shut, your palms pressing his chest plate, arms snaking around his neck until your fingers threaded through his dark locks. His fingers grip under your thigh, feet shuffling until he pins you against a wall, his solid body trapping yours under his heat. His mouth slants over yours, and he groans into the kiss as your tongue meets the hot wet of his mouth. Your back digs against his hands as they roamed across the expanse of your robes.

He was so close to you, so unbearably far away with the layers between as you snaked one leg around his waist and his length pressed against you. You arched your back at the contact, flames igniting up your body as you grinded against him, the lines between need and want blurring so intensely between your desires to be one with him and have him stay just like this.

His hands cupped your face and he flinched. Your brows stitched together as he drew back, hurt tautly woven on your face.

Hunter probably sensed your emotions, he always did, always on the lookout for something different, something hopefully not life-threatening. He simply held out a hand now coated with your blood. His eyes roved over to the bleeding gash from the side of your face, and he let out a weary sigh.

“When will you start listening to me?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, Sarge?” you grinned.

“Tsk,” his other hand traced the edge of your jaw until his thumb pressed your lower lip. “Don’t tempt me.”

Your grin grew wider and you let out a breathy laugh, your tongue flicking out to give his thumb a lick. A thrilling shiver ran down your spine, your mind hazy with your victory, once his intense brown-grey eyes refocused on you.

“Call it a favour, Hunter.”

He hummed, “What if I don't see it as a favour, Mesh’la?”

Your smile melted, the fire in your blown-out eyes sparking brighter, your gaze flickering between wonder at the use of that endearing term.

A handful of seconds passed between the two of you, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Your scent had been on him the entire campaign, driving him into absolute overdrive everytime he watched you cut down enemies with your saber and decimate battalions as if you were cutting through butter and not fighting an intergalactic war. But today, he’d had trouble fighting against those slavers with the thoughts that were running in your head and driving him wild. He’d felt the weight of your gaze on his soul, the curiosity turning into animosity masking your passionate frenzy. And he would be a fucking fool if he didn’t admit not a day went by where he hadn’t thought of doing things to you that turned your bratty self into a whimpering, moaning mess all over him.

He noted your evidently aroused state, the warm blood rushing beneath your skin, and the wetness pooling your trousers.

This was going to take a while, and Hunter wasn't going to waste a single second of finally getting to have some action with you.

thank you so so much for reading! please do point out any grammatical mistakes if there are any. this is the first time i'm writing for hunter so i hope you enjoyed this fic!

if you'd like to be added to the hunter tag list (since i do have a shit ton of fics planned—this man has a chokehold on me as bad as hayden does), drop a comment below! reviews are extremely appreciated 💗✨

this fic has NOT been cross-posted to my ao3. any/all forms of plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[mikichko]

captain price who gets thrown back in time when he hears that farah’s group has been deemed terrorists by the US

who suddenly remembers of another young, capable woman who had trusted the united states and had accepted their help in the fight only for them to turn their backs on her and her people at the last second. she didnt yield to their demands, pushing for the freedom of her people from both sides of tyranny.

price who’s called back and taken to headquarters for debriefing, doesn't even get to say goodbye, not that you wanted to in the first place.

they'd turned their backs on you and you turn yours on them, striving to build your country back up. and you do. you stay out of the government for the most part but put together a strong foundation that’ll be unshakeable for your country in the years coming. he knows because he’s seem the reports. seen how you handle a room, empower your people. some of it even done with a full belly.

he isn’t owed jealousy, you dont belong to each other, but he still cant push down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. even through dinner it stays there. has to stop himself from hunting down a man whose only crime was loving you. something he wasn’t brave enough to do.

after coming back to the present, he looks at alex offering him a gentle smile, grateful that he'll be helping Farah.

he asks Laswell for a favor, he knows that she knows where you are. his next leave is planned. no hotel, just a 4x4 truck, enough pull to make it up the mountain, and supplies for a family of four.

he can hear you in the back of the house, water sloshing around, as you talk to someone. and for the first time it strikes price that he never considered he'd be meeting your partner. whose child you had been carrying.

he doesnt dwell on it too much. already worked up the nerve.

then, he’s rounding the corner and there you are. muttering softly to a voice, that he now notices is much smaller and pitchier than yours.

coming from a carbon copy of him. no thats not right. its a mix, of his features and yours. your genetics definitely won but he can see himself mixed with you.

the girl has stopped talking, just staring now, causing you to turn.

“Hello Captain Price.”

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 17

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

Danny reappeared in the entryway of Clockwork’s house in a swirl of blue.  He met Clockwork’s eyes for just a moment and saw the muted concern in them.  

He couldn’t stand it.  

He darted to the side and made for the stairs.  

“Daniel–” said Clockwork, behind him, but he ignored him.  

He reached his bedroom and dove under the covers of the bed, wrapping himself up in the quilt, because he missed grabbing the sheet underneath it.  He pressed the nearest pillow into his face and tried to stop crying.  

“Daniel,” repeated Clockwork softly from near the doorway.  Danny hadn’t closed the door.  

Danny shook his head.  Whatever Clockwork wanted right now, Danny just couldn’t–

The edge of the bed sank down as Clockwork sat on it.  He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder.  “It will be alright, Daniel.  You are safe here.”

“You know– You know what they did.”

“I do.”

“How could you just let me– How could you let me go there?”

Clockwork sighed.  “I am bound by the limits of the role I have taken on.  I could not tell you.”

Typical.  Danny rubbed angrily at his eyes.  “How did I get away?  Do you know?”

“I know,” said Clockwork.  He didn’t say anything else.  

“But you can’t tell me, is that it?”

“If I were to tell you,” said Clockwork, carefully, “I would be removed from my current role and replaced by someone… less able.  The Observants are ever eager to exert control.”

Danny sniffled.  Clockwork’s explanation was reasonable, from a certain perspective.  It still hurt.  

“Why did they do it?” asked Danny.  “They said they wanted to understand, but they–  Who could do that if they wanted to understand?”

“I cannot say that I understand their motives,” said Clockwork.  “I certainly couldn’t imagine acting like that.”  He began rubbing a small circle into Danny’s back.  “But you need never see them again, if that is your wish.”

A sob caught in Danny’s throat, and before he knew what he was doing, he had twisted around to throw himself into Clockwork’s arms.  Clockwork received him with a remarkable amount of grace.  

“I don’t know why–  I don’t– Why I’m acting like this, I barely know them, knew them, it shouldn’t feel like–”  He didn’t know how to describe it.  “I don’t know why.”

“The why of it does not matter so much as the fact that you do feel that way,”  said Clockwork, continuing to pat Danny’s back.  

“It matters to me.”

“Ah, I see,” said Clockwork, soothingly.  “I’m sorry.  Of course it matters to you.  Of course.”

“I’m sorry,” said Danny.  

“No, no,” said Clockwork, “it’s quite alright.”

“I’m crying on you.”

“It’s fine,” said Clockwork.  “Tears wash out.”

“I don’t know why.”

“You learned about something very upsetting.  This is natural.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“It still happened, and is responsible for your present circumstances.  It’s alright to cry.  I will be here.”

.

“I made oatmeal today,” said Clockwork, putting a steaming bowl down in front of Danny.  “I thought that something simple would be best, after last night.”

Danny grunted and picked up a spoon to stir the oatmeal.  It wasn’t as simple as all that, really.  Clockwork had put raisins and cinnamon sugar in it.  It probably tasted just as good as all the other food Clockwork had made for him.  

“I’m supposed to choose now,” said Danny, listlessly. 

“This is the stage of the trial where you choose, but you need not do so immediately.  I cannot advise you on how to choose, or how to weigh your options, but it would not be out of the question for you to contemplate the matter for several days.”

“Right,” said Danny.  He scrubbed at his face.  Even after he’d sent Clockwork away, he’d cried on and off all night.  His skin around his eyes felt grainy and salty.  “What happens, when I choose?  Do you just teleport me back and the doors start working again?  And I, um, get my memory back?”

“That is a portion of it,” said Clockwork.  He sat down at the table across from Danny.  “First, however, the power involved in the ritual that is the trial would coalesce into a bond between you and your chosen guardian.  This would include the power involved in altering your form, so you would shortly thereafter regain your original appearance.”

“I kind of like the ears and tail, though.”  He ran his hands over his ears reflexively.  “They’re fluffy.”

Clockwork smiled.  “There are ways you can either regain or retain them.  Once that has occurred, the Observants will come to return your memories, and, finally, you will be escorted to your guardian.”

“Huh,” said Danny.  He poked at the oatmeal some more.  

“You should eat,” said Clockwork, gently.  

Danny sighed, and did his best.  

.

“I should make a list,” said Danny, having given up on breakfast.

“Of what?” asked Clockwork.  

“Names,” said Danny.  “Of people.  Choices.”

“You already have one of those,” Clockwork pointed out.  “In the folder.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Where did that get to, anyway?”

Clockwork slid it across the table, along with a pencil.  

“Thanks,” said Danny.  He flipped the folder open.  “I guess I can start by crossing off the people I’m definitely not going to choose.”

“That seems like a logical way to proceed,” agreed Clockwork.  

“So.  Not the Observants, obviously.”

He looked up at Clockwork out of the corner of his eye.  He could swear he’d seen him smirk at that pronouncement.  Just a little.  

“And not Skulker, Ember, and Technus,” he continued, moving down to the next entry he could safely cross out.  “And not, and not, um.  Not Jack and Maddie.  Those’re– those are the ones I can’t, who won’t, um.  Yeah.”  He looked at the rest of the list.  “Vlad is okay, but he lied to me a bunch, and I don’t really get why we were enemies, so when I get my memory back, I might hate him again, so not him.  Jazz…”

Danny licked his lips and tapped the eraser of the pencil against the table.  He liked Jazz.  And she was his sister.  Given everything else, he could sort of understand why she was lying, but…  No.  Vlad had a point, saying that he shouldn’t choose her.

“Not Jazz,” said Danny, finally.  “I don’t want to do that to her.  Which leaves Pandora and Frostbite.”

“A difficult decision indeed.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  He sighed.  Either one of them would be good.  Different.  Very different.  The culture shock would be hard.  Ancient Greece and the Far Frozen were both very different from what he was used to.  But Frostbite and Pandora would take care of him, and that’s what really mattered, in the end.  

But he had to wonder if there wasn’t another option.  

“Clockwork, you knew me before, didn’t you?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

“Right.  But Jazz knew you, which sort of implies that I knew you.  So.  You knew me.”  Danny bit his lower lip, thinking.  “You, um.  Why didn’t you join in?  As a guardian, I mean.  Why didn’t you, um.  Apply?  Is that the right term?”

“It’s as good as any.”  Clockwork leaned back in his chair.  “There are still limits on what I can tell you.”

“Yeah, but tell me what you can tell me.”

“If I were to adopt a child,” said Clockwork.  “Any child, not necessarily you; you understand that I cannot speak of such specifics.”

“Right,” said Danny.  

“But, if I were to try to adopt a child, the Observants would be very cross with me.”

“Why?”

“Because my responsibilities to such a child would supercede my oaths and duties to them.  They would not appreciate the loss of control, and would do everything in their power to prevent it.”

“Like, by making you be a neutral party.  Taking you out of the running.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “That would be something they might do.”

Danny fidgeted with the edge of the paper folder.  “If you– Did you–  Would you have applied?  If you could?  You know, hypothetically.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, simply.

Danny took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on his thighs.  “Then…  Then, if I…  I can choose anyone, can’t I?  Anyone I want, right?”

“Correct,” said Clockwork.  “That is the base rule upon which this whole trial is based.”

“So… what happens if I do?  If I, um, if I choose you?”

“That would be a nonstandard ending to the trial,” said Clockwork.  “It would not end as smoothly, perhaps, as it normally would.  The pathways that the power involved would travel upon may be confused.  You may not regain your original form.  The Observants would certainly withhold your memories.”

“And that would be… bad,” said Danny.  “That would be…”  He shook himself all over.  “I, um.  I don’t think…”  He faltered, looking down at his hands.  “That wouldn’t be much of a loss.  Really.”

“Fifteen years of memories is not insignificant,” said Clockwork, a note of warning in his voice.  “This is not a decision to make lightly.  It will affect your entire life.  There may even be other side effects that I have not listed.  Things that even I cannot foresee.”

“I don’t think I want to remember.  Not if it means remember what…”  He swallowed, with difficulty.  If what had been written in that binder had actually happened, he didn’t want to remember it.  “I’ve been thinking about this decision for months, right?  Every moment I remember.  I’m not making it lightly.  I know how important it is.”

Clockwork inclined his head towards Danny, acknowledging the point.  

“Pandora and Frostbite are great, but…”  Danny took a deep breath.  “But it’s you.  I choose you.”  He braced himself preparing for rejection.  A sort of tension built inside his chest until the feeling scraped the edge of pain.  

Then Clockwork was next to him and reached out to him, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek.  “Oh, Daniel,” he said.  

The tension abruptly collapsed, and Danny let himself fall forward, into Clockwork’s arms.  Clockwork carded a gloved hand through Danny’s hair, ruffling his ears.  

“It’s okay, right?  It’s okay for me to choose you.”

“Of course it is,” said Clockwork.  “Of course.  I cannot tell you how glad I am.”

“But you can tell me other things, though, right?  You’re not neutral anymore.”

“Quite right,” said Clockwork, and Danny could hear a smile in his voice.  “I have so many things to tell you.”

“What kind of things?” asked Danny, settling his head against Clockwork’s collarbone.  Or whatever ghosts had instead of collarbones.  

“All sorts,” said Clockwork.  He chuckled.  “You’ll be able to see my actual lair.”

“Is it purple, too?”

“You’ll see.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

your favorite kryptonite

Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

summary: you think it should be illegal for someone this hot to work at your favorite comics & fandom shop

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MDNI. non canon AU. Dieter as a big fandom nerd (affectionate), brief one sided annoyance to lovers, mentions and discussions of various medias including marvel, video games & anime/manga, light use of gendered language, moment of harassment from a creep, Dieter cosplaying surprise, spicy themes, reader wears Dieter’s robe but no physical description is mentioned, light drug use (marijuana), silly chaotic but sweet!Dieter

word count: 4.3k

a/n: So I’m back with another wacky AU LOL this is my love letter to all things wonderfully nerdy & to nerd Dieter who in my heart i believe is totally a Kakashi and Goku fanboy lol the biggest thanks go out to @perotovar & @burntheedges who helped championed this and gave me the power up strength to continue, so grateful for y’all babes! And to you reading this thank you so much ♡

The new mecha anime figurines immediately draw your attention. Their sharp beautiful sleek designs stand impressively and although you might not be a huge fan you admire the striking style.

You’ve been coming to Atomic Planet Shop since your best friend dragged you here in high school years ago. Containing a wide range of things like a whole area to flip through comics, to a wall of Japanese manga - it’s a nerd’s paradise.

Currently you search for a birthday gift to get your best friend and maybe snag a treat for youdelf.

“Oh, a fan of Gundam I see.” An eager and new voice calls from behind.

Turning back you discover someone slinking out from behind the register. Normally Raymond, the sweet older man who runs the store, would be here. But now someone new stands in his place and you’re stunned.

The guy emerging from behind the counter is gorgeous.

Scruffy beard, fluffy hair, wearing earrings and rings on his hand, he’s hot. The shirt he wears says “Wolverine Call Me” in a heart shape. His deep chocolate even eyes seem to dance curiously.

“Uh, just looking.” You politely reply.

“Whatcha looking for?”

You explain how you’re here looking for a birthday gift for your friend.

“Oh nice.” He nods appreciatively.

While you’re turned, giving this new worker your attrition, you finally notice the glass shelf behind the register.

Your eyes go wide fast at what you spot.

“Is that a new Stardew Valley cookbook?” You can’t even process the words, you’re still in awe at the sight. Precious little drawings fill the space to show familiar dishes, like pink cake and lucky lunch, from the game. It’s gorgeous and so unique.

“Oh hell yeah, you a fan?” The mystery man exclaims. “You know we have a whole little-”

“Video game section off to the side. Yeah.” You warmly cut him off.

Originally the store had been very comics and graphic novel focused. However over the years it’s evolved to add more fandom-like elements and now there’s even a small but impressive video game focused area.

A sweetly surprised look falls over the guy’s face and it paints him utterly charming.

“So who’s your go-to spouse in SDV?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

You tell him and he nods sagely.

“I always go for Krobus. Gotta respect our cute sewer dweller.” He says.

While you laugh a flutter scurries across your heart.

A ring at the door chimes in breaking your sweet conversation and a cluster of guys walk into the store.

“Guess I’ll get back to birthday gift hunting.” You smile at the cute worker then return to the comic stacks.

Flipping through the different series and passing through many fun options, you catch the conversation off to the side.

The pack of young guys that walked in seem to know the cute worker and snicker with him about something.

“Oh yeah man, so I was rewatching Endgame the other day and the part where Scarlet Witch goes one on one with Thanos? Unrealistic!” One of them cackles and you pause.

Did they not even see or know about how powerful she’s confirmed to be in the other MCU projects? Even then, in the comics Scarlet Witch flat out changes the trajectory of reality. If anything Thanos is only strong because he got lucky.

But you hold your tongue and continue scanning through the comics.

These guys are probably just punk ass kids. You don’t want to waste your energy on these guys who probably also hate on other characters like Shuri and Carol Danvers.

Now the cute store worker scoffs amused but doesn’t correct them. Your face scrunches up.

You thought he was charming, maybe a bit eccentric, like a 90’s vibrant Lisa Frank vibe. Yet now your skin crawls just a little bit thinking he might be one of those unfortunately toxic gatekeeping jackass guys.

You decide to leave now. You still had time to look for a birthday gift for your best friend. So you’ll just come back later. Without a second glance to the cute worker, you slip out and wonder about maybe checking out another store.

Of course, you’re too tired to actively look for another store. The next time you return to Atomic Planet, you pray Raymond is there.

You’re excited and almost relieved to see the familiar eccentric older man smiling toothy at you from behind the counter.

“Well, you’re a wonderful sight for sore eyes!” He greets you and happily you catch up and chat with him.

Suddenly a chaotic bang clamors in. The handsome worker from last time tumbles out from the back room into the front as if he tried to rush over.

“Dieter man, what’s the rush?” Raymond laughs.

Dieter. So that’s his name.

The guy, Dieter, this time wears a Naruto shirt under a sleepy and cozy green robe. His hair is still fluffy and you don’t miss how wide eyes stare at you.

“Hey.” You politely but curtly reply.

“Hi.” Dieter waves and you hate how cute he looks.

“By the annoyed look on your face, I take it you’ve met this new headache.” Raymond chuckles and embarrassment rams into you knowing your annoyance is that obvious.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” Raymond waves. “He cries when he watches My Neighbor Totoro.”

“Hey what the fuck!” Dieter cries and you press your lips together trying not to laugh.

“Just ignore him, honey.” Raymond winks and you grin wide.

After thanking him, you head back to the birthday gift search. Searching now through the manga selection you notice something moves by the corner of your eye.

Turning to the side, a large Totoro plushie floats beside you obviously being held up.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” A high pitch tone acting as the adorable creature's voice speaks out and your lips twitch.

From the side Dieter pops his head out.

His hair, rivaling a bird's nest, creates a cloud around him and his wide doe-like eyes peeking out are so hard to be fully annoyed at.

“You know,” he now fully speaks in his voice, moving to hold the large adorable plushie in his arms. “Never got your name.”

“You have my full permission to beat his ass if you need to, dear.” Raymond yells dully from the cash register and Dieter squawks horrified.

You laugh bright. Turning to the side you see Dieter already holds his hand out. The half crooked grin on his face paints him so boyish.

“Name’s Dieter.”

You shake his hand, finally giving him your name.

“So, do you really think Scarlet Witch can’t take on Thanos?” You offer light.

Dieter sighs loud. “I knew those guys and what we were talking about might’ve pissed you off.”

So he was watching you. That brings in a curious warmth that courses through you.

“Well I do apologize.” He bows his head a bit. You at least appreciate that.

“I bet those guys are the same ones that don’t like Carol Danvers either or even know that Squirrel Girl defeated Thanos.” You add a bit snippy.

“You know your shit, I like that.” Dieter replies proud and the way his voice drips out smooth does something dangerous to your heart.

You shrug but fight off the smug grin threatening to mirror his.

“Maybe you need to go Gandalf on my ass and teach me a thing or two, like maybe over coffee?” Dieter offers and you’re knocked out.

So he feels this spark, chemistry or whatever it is, between you too.

“Maybe,” you reply back with a grin. “For now I gotta get back to gift shopping.”

“You still haven’t found your friend a gift?! Geeze, what kind of bestie are you?!” He cries out teasing and you roll your eyes.

It’s getting harder staying annoyed with him and not taking up his offer to get coffee.

You eventually decide on a comic art book for your friend and then spot the assorted mystery box trinkets to maybe snag a few for her and even for yourself.

“I know everyone says Goku would beat the fuck out of Thanos, but you know who else would too without breaking a sweat?” Dieter’s voice again arrives at your side. He’s rather persistent, your cute, slightly not so annoying gnat.

“Sailor Moon.” He answers himself sagely.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You snicker amused.

He practically beams besides you when you agree.

You ask if he’s a fan.

“Oh hell yeah! Sailor Venus is my fav.” Dieter cries. “I can sing the entire song theme opening for you if you’d like. Not to brag, but that and the second Naruto theme opening are my go to karaoke songs.”

You laugh, feeling it deep into your bones. He’s chaotic, but unbearably endearing.

In a blink, a rush comes in all at once. The fun sweet bubble you had been cultivating deflates and you hate how disappointed you get seeing Dieter scramble to try and work.

When you go check out, you’re surprised he’s the one at your register.

Even though he’s focused on working you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up to you shyly but with a confident smirk. He turns to fully gift wrap the items knowing they’re going to be a present and you thank him for that.

When you grab your bag he gives you a smooth wink and you playfully glare at him.

Later at home, when you unpack everything, you find an extra surprise in the bag.

It’s a small box of strawberry pocky snacks you know you didn’t buy.

There’s a sticky note attached to it.

A sweet treat for a sweet customer! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ♡)

Call me if you ever wanna get coffee or just talk nerd shit and make me absolutely fall even harder for you

Underneath the message, he left you his number and you can’t believe it. After squealing about it with a few of your friends, you text him.

Dieter replies back quick with the funniest excited cat reaction meme and you realize you might be in the best kind of trouble with this guy.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

You didn’t expect the convention to be this crowded. Chatter fills the air as cosplayers move all around.

The booths stretch endless with countless tempting merch.

Your best friend tried to get you to plan a fun cosplay with her. However neither you or her could decide on what to pick in time. Now you're gladly comfortable in an everyday outfit and simply allow yourself to be in awe at the intricate lovely costumes.

While scanning the convention and taking in the beautifully controlled chaos in, you also hope to catch sight of someone in particular.

“Dude, stop trying to look for your hot nerd boyfriend.” Your best friend snorts and your heart trips over itself.

Embarrassed, you chide her and remind her that Dieter isn’t your boyfriend.

“Oh yeah because texting a guy everyday for the past month and going to cute cat cafes with him isn't dating.” She deadpans with a smirk.

You playfully glare at her.

It’s not official and you don’t want to rush whatever this is with Dieter. You haven’t even been to his place yet. You don’t mind though. You’ve just been enjoying getting to know him more.

You learn Dieter’s favorite video game is Hollow Knight and his favorite anime is Neon Genesis Evangelion.

His favorite comic book villain of all time is the Condiment King.

Matcha flavored Kit Kats have become his newest obsession session.

He saw all the Lord of the Rings movies in theater and can practically quote The Two Towers. Still has the comic book his best friend in middle school gave to him. Also refuses to let any of his Animal Crossing villagers leave because he’s so attached to them.

Dieter had made you laugh more than you can count, but he can be a bit ridiculous.

Like when he called you after he got off a late closing night shift to ask if Pacific Rim was real did you think the Kaiju monsters would maybe stop attacking if they found out how much he loves them.

Dieter does have his headache moments, but he’s an endearing kaleidoscope of a soul.

Earlier this week when you visited him at the shop, he said he was going to be here at the conversation. But with how bad the convention center’s wifi is, you haven’t been able to contact him.

“He even said he was coming in cosplay just for today right? Any ideas what he’s showing up as?” Your best friend wiggles her eyes while you and her stroll down an artist alley.

“No!” You huff still upset. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

While you appreciate him wanting to wait for a dramatic reveal, you wanted to know what his outfit was from the minute he told you.

You wanted to maybe try dedicatedly searching for him, but you get completely enthralled by the mass amounts of merchandise delightfully distracting you.

You spot incredible fan art pieces, adorable handmade keychains, and very expensive but beautiful figurines.

It’s like a mini wonderland.

Checking out the cute earrings at the stall you’re at, you lose sight of your best friend. When you turn to excitedly talk with her, that’s when you spot it.

She’s a few steps away, very politely trying to inch away from a guy, dressed in a Deadpool suit without the mask on. He’s talking way too aggressively and getting way too close to your friend.

Immediately you rush over and happily jump in.

“I gotta show you this!” You thankfully have the best excuse to pull her away.

But the guy only takes it as an opening to instead follow you both now.

“Just ignore him.” Your best friend whispers to you.

You and her continue to stare at the jewelry. Yet the guy remains. He continues his discussion and seems to get upset that you or your friend aren’t replying. It’s creepy and persistent especially with how he refuses to budge or take the hint.

You try lightly deflating the situation by apologizing and saying you and your friend just want to enjoy shopping.

“Oh, is shopping all you two came here for? You know, you fucking losers aren’t even in cosplay. Fake ass fans.”

Now he gets really aggressive.

The air and tension shift. The poor cute shop owner in her adorable R2D2 dress even reacts getting upset.

“Look, we just wanna enjoy the con.” Your best friend replies sharp with a hard scowl.

“What in the fantastic fuck do we have here?”

Suddenly Dieter’s voice rings out excited and bright and you almost sob.

You whip your face around to spot him.

Except it is and isn’t him.

His hair is slicked back, gelled and curled. Thick gray colored hairs line his temples. It even looks like he shaved a bit.

He’s dressed as Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic himself.

The outfit looks based on the classic 1960’s first comic book released aesthetic and it compliments Dieter’s frame gorgeously. His shoulders look unbelievably broad and his even arms seemed bigger in the tight soft baby blue material. You’ve never seen him in something so form fitting and it has your throat drying up.

You’ve even momentarily forgotten about the guy bothering you and your best friend.

“You bothering these two, ya fucking creep?” Dieter says with a nudge of his chin.

It’s hot as fuck.

The guy stunned gapes like a fish and stammers, but no words come out.

“Beat it before I shove a lightsaber up your ass.” Dieter replies bored, but it adds a sense of deadliness to his words.

The Deadpool cosplayer turns on his heels and immediately scrambles away. Your knees almost buckle overwhelmed.

Your best friend and even the stall owner cry out wildly excited in a bright neon awe of Dieter. You swallow back a sob as you turn to embrace him. His warm large hands pat you comfortingly.

“You saved us.” You teasingly sob, but truthfully you know he did.

“I’d been looking for you for a hot minute and was about to make some sort of raptor call noise to get your attention until I saw that shit going down.” Dieter explains.

“What a hero.” Your friend jokingly adds, but you hear it in her voice how grateful she is.

Dieter snickers.

“Guess you could almost say I was fantastic… mister fantast-”

You cut Dieter off with a quick kiss to his cheek before he can make the pun and your friend along with the stall owner laugh.

Gingerly, almost tentatively you move to intertwine your hand with his. He reacts immediately pulling you to his side.

For the rest of the convention Dieter stays besides you, walking hand in hand with you.

Even when you arrive at the booth for Atomic Planet, the real reason why Dieter was here to help work, Raymond waves him away saying to enjoy the convention with you.

Your heart flutters and Dieter squeezes your hand excitedly.

The rest of the time is a blissful geeked out dream. Dieter buys you a few keychains, even treats you and your best friend to a bite to eat.

You came to the convention with your best friend…

But you leave with Dieter.

Especially when your best friend urges you to go home with him and enjoy his hot cosplay.

You give her a look when she cheekily tells you that, but she isn’t wrong. Even when you grabbed the quick bite before the night ended, it was hard trying to ignore the amount of people turning to stare at Dieter with wide curious eyes.

And a little twinge of something faintly possessive bubbles in you.

That’s why when you slide into the passenger seat of his car, your heart drums loudly in your ears trying to fight against the urge to just suck his cock right here in the car.

“So uh…” Dieter begins cautiously and even a bit bashfully. “I don’t wanna sound too aggressive and you can tell me no, but can I kiss you-”

You don’t even let him finish before you’re sliding over the seat to him.

He scrambles and immediately pulls you close as his lips become a magnet to yours.

This is the first time you’re really truly kissing Dieter. You’ve kissed him gently good night before. He’s been cute with leaving kisses to your cheek or even against the back of your head like a Victorian gentleman. But now it’s a raw unraveling getting to tasting him from the source so greedy.

You won’t dare admit it outloud, but the soft feel of his lips, the scrape of his jaw, the smell of his delicious cologne, and how warm he consumes you -

It’s pretty fantastic.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

Dieter’s room is a treasure trove.

Framed posters of Pacific Rim, AKIRA, The Iron Giant, and the original Pokemon Kanto generation line the walls. His bookshelf is filled not just with comic books and manga, but various impressive graphic novels.

A mock infinity gauntlet sits beside his television. So many anime figurines, including a really nice Goku one, stand protecting his reading collection.

What surprises you is his expansive and sleek gaming corner which includes a striking computer set up.

“You look hot as fuck standing in my robe and knowing I just came in you a few hours ago is even hotter.” Dieter says from his bed in the most sinful but half groggily asleep voice.

You smirk and continue to soak in his room.

“So do you get good discounts from the store?” You ask.

“Yeah, but it also helps that I co-own it.” Dieter casually tells you. You hear him shifting among the seats then catch the flicker of the lighter igniting.

However your eyes go wide realizing what he said and you whip back around to him.

“Wait?! You co-own the shop?”

“Well yeah, Raymond, that old fuck, is my uncle.” Dieter coughs out as he exhales from the hit he took off his weed pipe.

Dieter even explains how, because his uncle is starting to get a bit older, he decided to step in to help run the place.

“Besides, how else could I show off my extensive knowledge of elvish language other than at the shop?” He says proudly.

How did you just now learn this?

Dieter reminds you of a rubik cube you think you’ve finally figured out, think you found a groove for - until one out of the corners a jack in the box pops out.

Before you can even ask him about the shop or about his uncle, Dieter’s phone goes off.

The loud ringtone sings into the room and your eyes go wide hearing it. Dieter checks who’s calling then denies the call muttering out about how spam scam callers need to be fed to a sarlacc pit.

“Wait…is Cascada’s ‘Everytime We Touch’ actually your ringtone?” You ask, still not believing it.

“Fuck yeah it is, baby! That song is untouchable!” He cries and you can’t help but laugh.

Dieter smirks then pats the open spot on the bed where you had been resting before. Sliding back into the warmth with him, he gently pulls your face to him and kisses you softly.

The taste of the smoke lingers on his lips, but it’s still him beneath it all. You eventually wind up in his arms, cozy and warm in his embrace.

“I noticed the nice audio and mic setup.” You comment while his fingers draw aimlessly against your skin. “You trying to maybe go the YouTuber route?”

“Nah. Maybe. Who knows.” He shrugs. “It’s mainly for something else.”

Now his voice grows a bit distant.

You gently ask him what that something else is and Dieter fidgets

“Don’t… don’t laugh okay.” He mumbles adorably.

You reassure him earnestly you won’t.

He sighs.

“So I’ve been wanting to get into voice acting work.” Dieter reveals with a mutter, even sounding a bit embarrassed

However, you perk up so bright. Turning in his arms you eagerly smile at him.

“Di, that sounds amazing!” You mean those words.

You can’t help but ramble about how great he would be for that. He has the personality for it and he’s told you how he’s done some stage acting work. Plus, it just fits him. You think of all the silly voices he does and you hope now he can make this path a reality.

Dieter’s handsome face falls a bit and you stop. You wonder if you’ve scared him off, or maybe he thinks you’re possibly making fun of him.

You’re about to apologize when Dieter swiftly moves to kiss you feral and fierce. His tongue slides into your mouth with a moan you greedily swallow.

The conversation is put on pause when his hands slide up your thighs, straight to your core, and you fall apart with him once again.

Basking in the afterglow you rest against his chest now feeling sleepy, not even knowing what time it is. You realize being with Dieter is like existing in a realm a bit separated from reality sometimes and it’s beautiful.

“I don’t wanna be that lame guy,” Dieter begins. “But shit, I already really really kind of like you a fucking lot.”

Your lips fight back a smile you can’t beat. You turn to bury your face against his warm bared chest.

“I really kinda like you a lot too.” You admit.

“That’s unfortunate.” He replies and you snort.

“It’s okay. I only want the good discount on merch at the shop.” You reply cheekily.

“Aw! You don’t even want me for my body? Just my discount?!” He cries hurt and even jokingly moves to shove you off.

“Well.” Then he pauses. “Guess I could call my dick a discount, but then again… there isn’t anything short about that-”

You cut him off with an eye roll and he snickers wildly amused.

His fingers move to tickle you, to corrupt you into his same fit of giggles and you wheezing trying to squirm away from him.

Dieter’s hands eventually snake around you and draw you back into his chest. You melt against him willingly and even sigh comforted.

“Next time if we go to a convention, if you feel comfortable with it, you should cosplay.” He comments.

You admit that you’ve thought about it and list a few ideas you’ve had. But mainly, your mind thinks about the different outfits Dieter could go as.

The thought of him now as Doctor Doom instead of the heroic Reed Richards is a glorious thought.

But of course there’s so many other incredible options.

Dieter as Harvey or even Marlon from Stardew Valley.

Even a few anime characters that would fit him so well come to mind.

Specifically Kishibe from the series Chainsaw Man, with his striking cut across his mouth and incredibly lazy hot older demeanor, just fits Dieter so well it stirs something in you again.

“Maybe next con,” Dieter offers and pulls you from your thoughts. “I’m thinking about going as Tuxedo Mask. Do you wanna be my Sailor Moon?”

A couples matching outfit.

You didn’t even think of that. That’s what he was nudging towards.

You didn’t even think of that. But just getting to be beside him is something sweetly moving.

Then thinking about him in the sleek tuxedo outfit, in the white mask, is a dangerous thought you already ache to maybe see come true.

“We’ll see.” You hum with a smile, but when you go to kiss him it feels like a gilded warm promise.

“Never mind. I want us to go as Undertale characters and I wanna be Sans.” Dieter says suddenly and you snort against his shoulder.

This time spent with him, and the promise of maybe something more, is sweet starlit bliss.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Reader x Law: Wano-Pre-Raid on Onigashima

Authors note: Been watching Wano and these characters just inspire lots during this arc. Feel free to comment! Criticism is accepted in order to help my writing. Feel free to offer suggestions or more fic ideas! Next I’m working on some monster trio and Law drabbles I think, but other ideas are accepted and appreciated. Let me know your thoughts below. I know I want just 5 minutes alone with this man, as I know others feel the same, here it is. Thanks! I watch the English version where the Starwhats call Law, Traffy.

Law isn’t Traffy to you.

Features: Law

Summary: Law has just returned from being captured by Drake and Hawkins. Luffy sends you to see if Law and his crew are still down for the raid on the night of the Fire Festival. Law is interested in more than just the raid…

Warnings: Minors DNI, NSFW, Smut, fluff, Vaginal sex, fingering, ass/pussy slapping, pet names, “good girl”, Dom Law, teasing, I don’t own these characters

You and your crewmates, the Strawhats, are preparing outfits and hanging out at Kuri beach the night before the raid on Onigashima. Law, having escaped imprisonment by Hawkins and Drake, has rounded up his crew and is camping on his submarine nearby. You and your crewmates knew Law had been captured and had heard from some of the Heart Pirates he had come back in rough shape. You and the rest of the crew were now discussing who was going to touch base with the Heart pirates and reiterate the new plan to them.

“I’m going to go check in with Traffy and make sure he and his crew are still ready for tomorrow. Sanji, can I have a snack when I get back?” Luffy asks as he begins to walk toward the Polar Tang.

“You just ate! No you can’t have a snack!” Sanji yells.

Luffy’s stomach growls. You look over at the Polar Tang, knowing Law was back safely with his crew caused a soft smile to form across your face. You had only known him briefly as a result of the alliance formed between your crews. You couldn’t help, but like the mysteriously passionate and jaded captain of the Heart Pirates. Your crew had driven him insane during your partnership, but you knew what you accomplished at Dressrosa had made it worth it to him. You couldn’t believe that the raid tomorrow could mean the end of it, the end of seeing him. You frowned slightly and shook your head, as you returned to examine the outfit you had picked out.

“Luffy if you go you’ll just make Traffy angry! He’s been through a lot, let someone else go.” Nami urged.

“What do you mean? Traffy and I are friends!” Luffy yelled back, stopping in his tracks.

“Send Y/N. Traffy has rarely gotten annoyed with her our whole journey together. He’ll be honest with her.” Robin says, looking at you with a soft chuckle.

“But I wanted to see Traffy!” Luffy yells.

“You’ll see him tomorrow. He needs his rest, Let Y/N go.” Robin reinstructs.

“Fine. Y/N. Go check in on Traffy and his crew, make sure they are still ready for tomorrow.” Luffy says to you sternly.

You finish the twirl you started to do in the yellow, kunichi dress you had picked out for the battle tomorrow. You turned your head and looked at your captain with furrowed eyebrows.

“Why me?” You asked.

“That’s an order.” Luffy said with a commanding look.

Nami and Robin look at one another devilishly, then look back at you. You raise an eyebrow at them, then roll your eyes and begin walking towards the Polar Tang. At the polar tang you find Bepo, Shachi and Penguin outside on the submarine's deck.

“Hey, my crew sent me over to check on Law. They wanted to make sure you all were still good for the raid tomorrow?” You asked as you rubbed the back of your head nervously.

“Yes, we are still in! We want to find out who ruined the original plan, everyone keeps blaming us and our captain! We aren’t going to let him down like that ever again! ” Bepo says as he clenches his fists and takes a step forward.

“Yeah!” Penguin and Shachi say in unison after Bepo’s words.

“I’m glad to hear it.” You reply to them with a soft supportive smile. “Where’s Law? How is he?”

“He’s in his quarters tending to his..” His voice breaks a moment as he looks down in shame. “To his wounds and getting cleaned up.” Penguin says.

“My Captain asked me to check in with him, do you think that would be okay?” You ask, biting your lip.

You knew from how passionate his crew was, he must have been through something tough while captured.

“I’ll take you to him, this way.” Bepo replies.

“Thank you!” You say with a large grin.

You follow Bepo through the door of the Polar Tang. Shachi and Penguin swoon at you in your kunichi outfit as you walk away from them. Bepo leads you down a long hallway and eventually stops at a door on the right side of the hall.

“This is it.” Bepo says as he raises his paw to start to knock on the door. “Ugh… Captain…”

“What is it?” You hear a muffled deep, gravely voice speak from the other side of the door.

You gasp as you notice the anger in his voice. You knew you shouldn’t have come. Bepo nervously rubs the fur behind his ears.

“You have a visitor. One of the Strawhats is here to check in on you.”

“Tell Strawhat to go away.” Law replies sternly through the closed door again.

“Umm… it’s not Strawhat, just one of his crew.”

You swallow hard and decide to try to help Bepo out. Bepo sighs beside you.

“Law, it’s Y/N.” You say after taking a deep breath.

“Fine. Come in.”

You were shocked at his quick willingness to allow you to enter his private quarters. You turn the door handle and look over at Bepo, nodding at him as you push the door open. You walk in and shut the door behind you. Law sits on the floor, leaning against his bed in his kimono. He rests his arms across his knees bent in front of him. He’s covered in dried blood and staring at the wall. You blink a few times as you look at him. Taking a deep breath, you move to kneel down next to him.

“Law… Are you okay?” You ask shakily as you stare at him.

His eyes darted toward you, then returned to looking at the wall in front of him. You and Law had grown somewhat close during his alliance with the Strawhat crew. You liked talking medicine with him, since you were a former nurse. You hadn’t seen him since Zou as you had gone with Luffy to get Sanji back from Whole Cake Island. Meanwhile, he had gone straight to Wano with the rest of your crew.

You knew you cared about him more than the rest of your crew did and in a different way. You couldn’t imagine him ever feeling the same way, but you had feelings for him. You knew it was crazy, having a crush on the captain of another crew, but you couldn’t help how he made you feel. He made you feel safe, smart, and valuable. Not that your crew didn’t, but he did so in a different way and you enjoyed his company. You’d never leave your crew, but you knew when this alliance was over, you’d miss Law. All you could do was help him with his wounds now and do as your captain ordered, make sure he was still onboard for the raid tomorrow.

“Y/N.” He gives you a side glance then crosses his arms and looks at the floor in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You say with a soft smile. You gently lean forward to touch his bloodied cheek. “You on the other hand…” You start to say as you reach for the basin of water he had prepared beside him and one of the clean folded towels.

You dip the folded towel in the water and ring it out. Gently, you press the warmed cloth to a cut on his forehead. He winces a bit as you apply some pressure to it. He sighs at the heat from the cloth and the tenderness of your care.

“I’m fine.” He says. “Just a few bumps and bruises. I’ll be ready for tomorrow.” He adds as he reaches up for your hand holding the cloth.

The sensation of his hand touching yours sent a jolt through your body. Your heart began to beat faster and a warmth began to grow inside your chest. Law took the cloth from your hand and used it to wipe the rest of the dried blood from his face. You reached for another cloth and prepared it to hand to him. He sat quietly focused on his task, then his eyes fell back upon your face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at you with an intensity that only made the heat in your chest rise.

“Law.” You reply as you furrow your eyebrows back at him in confusion. “What is it?”

He grunts and clenches his teeth, directing his gaze back to his hands. He takes a deep breath, then looks at you with a side glance again. He tosses the cloth in his hand back into the basin, then he reaches for the cloth in yours. He takes the cloth in from your hand and tosses it in the basin as well. He stands up and sits at the edge of his bed, returning his gaze to you with a sigh.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Law. When I heard you had gone to rescue your crew… and gave yourself up for them… I was…” Your eyes begin to water as you speak. “Bepo was so worried.” You say as you shake your head and look down at your hands, to hide your watering eyes.

“Why do you call me Law while the rest of your crew calls me that stupid nickname?” Law urges as he looks at you without turning his head.

You look up at Law in confusion and twist your lips as you think of a response to the sudden subject change.

“Oh. Um. I guess it’s well, I know you hate the nickname,I ’d rather call you something else, something you like. You say, placing your palms on your thighs, tucking your head down, so Law can’t see your blush.

“Like what?” He asks, giving you another side glance, then looking back in front of him.

“I don’t know, Traf?” You say looking up with a surprised grin.

“Okay.” He says not to make eye contact with you.

“Okay?”

“I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.” He says with a blush he doesn’t try to hide.“But, this alliance ends after the battle with Kaido tomorrow.” he adds with his earlier sternness returning to his voice.

His blush makes your blush grow, but your eyes begin to glisten at the idea of the two of your parting ways. Your thoughts begin to flood with panic, had Law just blushed at you, had he just flirted with you? The man sitting before you had just risked his life for his crew, and after tomorrow night, you may never see him again. You decided it was now or never. You look at him and take a deep breath.

You lunge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself towards him in a tight embrace. His eyes widen, his breath catches in his throat, and his hat falls from his head at your jarring lunge. You bury your head into his neck and breathe him in. It takes a moment due to shock, but his chest relaxes against yours and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You sit there for a few seconds, wrapped in one anothers embrace. After a bit, he pushes away from you and his eyes meet yours. Your hands sink down his muscular, tattooed chest as you try to guess what could be going through his mind. Your eyes flicker to his lips a moment, then returns to his gray orbs, you hoped he would realize the permission you were giving him.

Suddenly, his soft, dry lips are hitting yours. Law is rough at first like he thinks the moment is fleeting and you’ll realize you’ve made a mistake. Your hands slither back up to embrace his neck to which his body relaxes against yours, pulling you in closer to him. Your fingers begin to rifle through his dark messy hair. Gently his tongue pushes against your lips, asking for permission to enter. As you grant it, your left hand falls to feel his chest, catching on the lining of his kimono, pulling it to hang loose off his chest. Your hand caresses his naked, tattooed pec.

Law slowly drags away from your lips and begins meticulously kissing down your neck. At your collarbone, you feel his teeth dig into you, forcing a moan from your lips.

“Traf..”

He pulls away and looks at you devilishly, raising his eyebrow in question. You nod back. His tattooed hands wrap around your waist and lift you to straddle his right leg. His warm chapped lips return to press against your plump red ones. You push the kimono off his shoulders, and move to twirl your fingers in his messy dark locks. He begins to pull at the tie of your kimono. Your lips separate as his gaze falls upon your chest. Your lips begin to caress at and nibble his pierced ear. As the kimono falls off your skin, Law stares in awe at your well endowed chest. A moan escapes his lips as you bite and suck harder near his piercings. He moves his right hand from your waist to caress your breasts, gently twisting your right bud. You moan in his ear and move your chest closer to his, seeking out more friction on your sensitive buds. He drops his hand from your breasts back to your waist and begins sucking and nipping at your nipples. Your hips begin to rock against his thigh in delight, while he licks away at your sensitive buds. He chuckles with pleasure against your breast as your hands fall from hair to his back. Your fingertips curl into his toned shoulders, leaving scratch marks as he bites again at your nipple.

“Traf… need you.” you whine.

He smirks, pulling away from his feast on your breasts to look you in the eye. He slides his hands down your waist to your folds. You lean forward, connecting your chests, hoping to find some friction like he had just been giving you with his tongue. He chuckles as his tattooed hand runs through your folds, causing you to throw your head back.

“Law!”

“No underwear. Thought so…and so wet. You’re such a slut for me.” He says with a wider smirk.

Your hands slide across his toned back to his chest. Tracing the lines of his large heart tattoo, you find his hardened length beginning to twitch beneath his kimono. Your fingers grasp at it above the fabric as your gaze falls back on his.

He stares at you blankly with his half lidded eyes, fingers circling your clit. Your hips rock faster against his thigh. His grip tightens on your waist as his lips fall upon your ear. Pulling him closer by grabbing his shoulders, your head falls back with a moan. His thumb drops to trace your entrance while two of his other fingers continue to circle your clit.

“You move when you’re told, make noise when you’re told, and cum when you’re told, got it, princess?”

His hand moves faster against your clit as he finishes his instructions. You bite your lip, trying to restrain a moan and look him in the eye. He wraps his arms back around you and lifts you from his lap, to lay flat on the bed behind you. Your kimono falls to the floor at the foot of the bed as Law moves you. You now rest on his bed completely naked and he looks on at you with a satisfied gaze. You raise your knees and begin rubbing your hands up and down your thighs. Law moves to sit between them. He places his left hand on your hip and his right on your clit. His kimono still rests at his waist.

“Law…need”

He slaps your folds. You stifle a moan.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and do as you were told?”

He begins tracing your entrance with his left hand and using his right thumb to trace the alphabet on your clit. Your toes lift off the ground as he dips his tattooed fingers “E” and “A” into you.

“Say my name.”

“Law.”

“No.”

“Traf.”

“All of it.”

“Trafalgar Law” you say, still trying to stifle a moan as his fingers begin to pound in and out of you.

His fingers begin curling to hit your spot. His hand moves from your clit to bring one of your breasts and nipples to his mouth. Heat begins to build in your stomach.

“Traf I’m going to.”

“Not until I say.” He says sternly, licking at your bud.

He begins quickly slamming your spot faster with his curled fingers. You grip at his hair and grit your teeth. You feel a smile form on his lips against your breast.

“Now.” He says as he bites your breast and moves his thumb back down to play with your clit. His thumb returning to circle your clit sends you over the edge.

“LAAAWWW.” You call in ecstasy as your juices spill out all over his Death tattooed fingers.

You breathe heavily and hear the whoosh of his kimono as he pulls it off and strips his briefs. You sit up on your elbows to get a better look, a smile growing across your lips.

“Now, prove to me you’re a good girl and take me.”

You nod. He gets back on the ground and lays on top of you. Your arms wrap around his back and pull him closer to you. His lips press against yours as his hardened length pushes against your abdomen. Your hand begins to caress his length, but he slaps it away, grabbing it himself to line it up with your entrance.

He begins moving his length up and down your entrance, causing your hips to buck with need. His mouth drops from your lips to bite at your nipples. You moan in response.

“Remember who is in charge here. Otherwise I’ll have to tease you longer.” He says with a smug grin.

You nod and as your hips begin to buck against his. One of your hands wrapped in his dark locks while the other scratches at his back with need.

“You look so tight. Can’t wait to feel you around me. Are you ready to be a good girl and take me?”

You nod, pulling his lips back to yours. He gently begins to enter you with just his tip at first. You moan and clench around him. He grunts. As you relax with him beginning to inch inside you, he slowly begins to push more into you. Once in, he stops moving to let you adjust. Your head falls back and you pant at the feeling of fullness within you. Law kisses your neck and begins to slowly pull his length in and out of you, using your waist as a guide.

“So tight. Look how well you’re taking me. Now be a good girl and handle your pounding.” He says sternly.

You nod against his cheek. His grip tightens and he begins thrusting harder to slam against your cervix. After seeing you tolerate this, he gradually picks up his pace. His lips fall back against yours, while one of his hands dances from your hip to your clit, where it starts moving in circles again. As he starts working your clit with his fingers you feel the heat beginning to rise again in your abdomen.

“I’m close. You’ve been such a good girl for me, so I’ll let you decide, where should I cum?”

“I’---in-inside… Want to feel you finish in me.”

“Good girl.” He says moving his hands back to your hips, so he can slam into you harder.

His gaze falls upon your face where your eyes are beginning to cross and water. You lift your legs to wrap around him to take him deeper. His balls are slapping against your entrance.

Law reaches a hand up and twists one of your swollen nipples, that combined with another deep slam and your juices are pouring out all over his hard length.

“TRAFALGAR.” You moan as your body shakes around his length.

He moves in and out through your ecstasy and after a few more thrusts you feel his length quiver inside you. His juices begin to drip out your core and down your thighs. You pant as Law moans quietly. His eyes fall back upon yours as he raises a hand to move your hair out of your face. His lips gently press against yours once more before he falls down to lay beside you. After a few seconds of panting he puts his arm around you and pulls you into his chest. You tuck your head into his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso.

“If we die fighting Kaido, at least I can die happy now.” You say breathily.

“We can’t die. I have some other things I would like to try… with you…” Law says between pants.

“Whatever you say, Traffy.” You reply with a soft smile as you lift your lips to his.

The two of you lay there for a bit chatting and laughing.

“I should probably head back soon.” The crew may be wondering where I am.

You roll off his chest and begin crawling out of his bed. You reach for your dress at the base of his bed, but before you can pick it up, arms are wrapped around your waist pulling you back in.

“Let them wonder.”

“Thank goodness my dress isn’t ruined.” You start to say as he kisses down your neck. “Maybe I can stay for a bit longer, but only if you show me your outfit for tomorrow.”

You knew Law cared about what he looked like, so after trying clothes on with your own crew, you were curious what he would choose for the big battle. He rolled his eyes at you, then got out of bed. He rifles through his closet and grabs a shirt and some pants then steps into his bathroom to pee and change. You talk to him about his future plans while he changes. When he steps out, you visibly gasp and you can’t speak. His signature spotted pants and a yellow dress shirt. Who knew such a simple outfit could leave you speechless. Maybe it was the fact it highlighted his lean build or that he only wore two buttons of his shirt buttoned to show off his tattoos. Maybe it was the fact you knew now what lay underneath. You jump to your knees and begin reaching for the shirt buttons.

“Okay, I’m glad I had some warning. I know we should rest because tomorrow is a big day, but I’m now going to need you the rest of the night… maybe well into the morning.” You nervously spit out as you finish the last button and push the shirt from his shoulders, heading for the buttons of his jeans next.

Law’s smug grin returns as he grabs your hands in one of his. He uses his free hand to lift your chin and bring your lips to his.

“Slow down, tiger. Remember who is in charge here. It’s nice to see you needy for me this quickly. May have to find a way to drag this battle out, so we can get some more time together.”

You nod against his lips and pull him back on top of you on the bed.

“Or just join our crew, they already think of you as a member.” You say laughing mildly against his lips.

“You’ve seen what I do for a good girl, seems like it’s time to show you what I do for a bad one…” Law says as he slaps your ass.

[kitorin]

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate