#I should have known a disturbed mind was after that

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

now that i got your attention sasuke-kun when are you coming home? you weren't replying to my texts and our daughter misses you

VADE RETRO YOU CRAZY WOMAN

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[pupkashi]

cherry blossoms

satoru doesn’t wanna leave you for the japan grand prix, so he flies you out to join him

a/n: hi hi !! here is part two to my f1 au !! this has taken me so long to write i hope you guys like please please please let me know what you think !!! i know the japan gp was so long ago i fell behind in sorry </3 ; lets just act like the plane rides and time zone shifts make sense thank u <3

wordcount - 7,158

part 1 // main masterlist

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO !

“so you’re going to japan in a couple days then?” you ask, sitting across from the white haired f1 driver, watching as he nods softly, taking one last bite from his steak.

“yeah, it’s my home race so I’m hoping it goes well” he smiles, it was obvious he was nervous for the race. you smile softly at him, “you’ll do great.”

it was like a bubble had engulfed the two of you after you first met, the chaos of the world and academia seemed to settle for the two weeks he had been in town.

“what do you have going on?” he asks you, hooked on what you’d reply with as the gears in his head turned.

“just classes, finally don’t have an exam this week” you cheer, looking up and seeing an unfamiliar look on satoru’s face.

“why don’t you come with me?” he asks, cerulean eyes gleaming at you. satoru is taken back when you laugh softly taking a casual sip from your water when your eyes land on his, stomach dropping when you realize he was serious.

“you’re serious? i can’t ditch classes for a week satoru” you laugh nervously, “i can’t even afford a plane ticket to Japan let alone a hotel and everything that comes with travel” you reason shaking your head.

“I’d pay for everything, don’t be stupid” he says quickly, “cmon just for the weekend then? you skip your Friday lecture all the time anyway what’s one more?”

you think for a second, biting your bottom lip and realizing you’ve only known this guy for the better half of a month. do things always move this quickly in relationships? you cant speak from experience, but before you think too long satoru is reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

“it’s cherry blossom season and I’d want nothing more than to take you on a picnic under the beautiful trees” his cheeks are akin to those of the trees he mentioned and makes your stomach leap. “cmon you said it was on your bucket list didn’t you?”

you could feel your heart skip a beat, your face must’ve given away your surprise as he grins back at you. he remembered something you’d mentioned in passing? god he was making this harder than it should be.

when else would you get an expenses paid trip to japan and an f1 Grand Prix?

“i need to think about it” you say, his ears perk up and there’s a wide smile on his face that brings his dimples out.

“that’s not a no” he grins, you smile at him shaking your head.

“that’s not a yes either” you correct, squeezing his hand before letting go and finishing off your food.

he doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the night, instead appreciating every moment the two of you spend together, away from public eyes. satoru squeezes your hand a bit tighter, the sky a colorful painting of reds and oranges, a hue of pink blanketing the world around the two of you.

you sat in lecture on monday morning, only half paying attention to what your professor was talking about, messy notes on your tablet as your mind wandered.

what are the odds you miss something important on friday? satoru was right, you were already planning on skipping. satoru, you think, snowy hair and lashes to match, captivating blue eyes; what are the odds you come across him again?

who are you to fight against fate?

‘how much should i pack ? i am a chronic overpacker’ you type out, thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button before taking the leap and tapping it.

youre quick to put your phone on do not disturb and place it back in your pocket, figuring if you’re gonna miss lecture Friday you might as well take better notes now.

satoru was only half paying attention to what his manger was saying over the zoom call, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he listened. his phone lit up with your text, a wide smile immediately making its way onto his face as he grabbed it, reading your message.

“satoru are you paying attention?” his manager asks, slightly annoyed at the driver.

“media when we land, FIA wants me at the conference, tiktoks with george, a couple pre race interviews-” satoru continues to list off everything he’d been told perfectly, all while typing out a reply to you.

“oh could you book me a flight and an extra hotel room? I’m bringing someone this weekend” satoru grins, excited as his assistant nods yes.

satoru cheers, a bright smile into his camera as he waves goodbye to everyone and logs off the team call, finally settling on what to reply to you with.

‘pack as much as you want, I paid for a check in’

he can’t help but giggle, standing up from the table and flopping onto the hotel bed. satoru thought the image of the crushing schoolgirl was always an exaggeration, but the smile on his face and the swinging of his feet made him realize it was 100% true- and he was but a schoolgirl with a crush.

‘you already got me a flight?’

‘duh, wasn’t gonna risk you saying yes and me being unprepared :P’

you were trying your hardest to not smile, biting your lip and focusing on the music in your headphones. the suns rays beating down on you as you walked onto your bus, sitting near the back in case you did end up giggling at a message. (you failed miserably at hiding a smile.)

‘when does your flight leave?’

‘in an hour ish i think’

‘im headed to the airport now actually’

the two of you text the entirety of your bus ride and well after you get home. your phone rang after you’d set it down to focus on your work, satoru’s contact name flashing on the screen as you picked up the phone.

“hello?” you answered, a nervous laugh leaving your lips.

“hey! figured this is easier than texting so that you can do your work and stuff while we talk” satoru had a giant smile on his face, eyes looking out the window of the plane as he talked to you, “is that okay?” nervously bringing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“that’s perfect actually” you chuckle, “how was the airport?”

it didn’t feel like much time had passed since you answered the call, but as you looked out the window and how much work you’d gotten done you realized it been well over four hours. your eyes widened as you checked your phone as saw the length of the call

4:47:56

“oh my god it’s been almost five hours” you laugh, closing your laptop and putting it to charge. “unlike you i don’t have a flight attendant to give me food so” you trail off, realizing you’d forgotten to take out meat to thaw for dinner, takeout it is.

“alright alright, I’ll let you get back to life without me” satoru sighs dramatically, “have fun in the slow lane” he teases.

“oh please you’ll see me on friday” you laugh, “and i do not drive in the slow lane! you’re just used to going too fast in cars” you mumble, thankful he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face and the way you were playing with your hair.

the call went on for a bit longer, there was a pregnant pause between the two of you.

“I can’t wait to see you friday” satoru breathed out, staring at his lap before back out the plane window. everyone else on the small plane had fallen asleep already, trying to get a jump on the time zone shift. he should’ve been asleep hours ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up on you.

“i can’t wait either, my second ever formula one race” you tease, “oh and you’ll be there too!” satoru rolls his eyes at you, smiling.

“haha very funny” his sarcastinf tone makes you grin.

“okay i seriously have to go now, let me know when you land?” you’re not sure of your words, it’s not like you were dating the guy.

“course i will, have a goodnight y/n” he says softly.

“goodnight satoru” you reply, a small smile on your face before hanging up. you’re stuck dumbfounded for a second, laughing before shaking your head, trying to get back to reality and not think about the tall, blue eyed man every moment possible.

lectures always seemed to drag on forever, but this week? eternal. especially on your final thursday lecture. had time always gone this slowly in class? your professors words were not the least bit interesting today, not compared to the thought of getting on a flight to japan for a Motorsport event.

not compared to hanging out with satoru again.

your fingers itched to text satoru, he’d been busy since he landed, with scarce texts sent your way. you didn’t want to seem too clingy, the thought of it scaring him away held you back from double texting him. he’d text you when he could, right?

finally lecture came to an end, you couldn’t help but breath a small sigh of relief as you packed your thing into you backpack and shuffled out with the rest of the class.

as if on cue your phone began to vibrate.

satoru

“hey” you smiled, pressing the phone closer to your ear as you tried to get out of the crowded hallway, going down the stairs and exiting out the side of the building.

“hey! is this a good time?” he asked, fiddling with the hotel duvet, the tv on as background noise.

“yeah i actually just got out of class- isn’t it night time over there?” you interrupt yourself, “shouldn’t you be getting eight hours of sleep or something?”

satoru can’t help but smile at your concern, “it’s only free practice tomorrow morning, just to get a feel of it all” he assures you, “what’re you up to?”

“heading to my bus stop actually! gonna get home and make sure I’ve got everything for my flight” you giggle, a little more bounce in your step as the time for your departure nears.

“do you need me to get you an Uber to the airport?” he questions, rubbing his burning eyes, refusing to give in to his exhaustion. just a couple more minutes, he told himself.

“nah my friend's dropping me off, but how am i getting to the hotel and stuff?” you’re beyond nervous for the whole trip, hands a bit sweaty just thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“I’ve got a driver picking you up, you might be tired so you don’t have to come to the free practices or anything, I’ll see you after they’re done, so maybe sometime in the afternoon” he replies, about to say something else when a yawn cuts him off.

“are you sleepy?” you ask, nearing your bus stop and internally cheering when an empty one arrives at the same time you do.

“just a bit, media was exhausting” he chuckles.

“why don’t you get some rest, we can talk all you want after i land” the words still don’t seem real to you, “you need to get sleep, satoru.”

“only because you keep insisting” he agrees, a dramatic tone in his voice that makes you smile. “goodnight y/n, can’t wait to see you tomorrow” he yawns as he speaks, eyes already fluttering shut.

“goodnight satoru, sweet dreams” you reply, biting back a grin as you hang up, your nerves at bay for now.

you should’ve known satoru booked you a first class seat, but you were still shocked when you sat down in the spacious seat.

‘how much did this ticket cost ????’

you didn’t expect a reply back, he was more than likely already at the race track getting ready for the first free practice.

‘don’t worry about price :) how’s the flight ?’

satoru had to be out in the garage in 30 minutes, his suit only half zipped as he sat in the room waiting for kento to come get him. he can’t help but think about you, how your flight was going, if you were regretting coming.

three sharp knocks on the door have him shooting you one last text ‘have to go :P’ before carelessly setting his phone on the counter and hastily putting the rest of his suit on.

“come in” he sing songs, knowing a familiar blonde headed man would be the one on the other side of the door. the door swings open only a moment after, kento giving satoru a small smile before stealing a piece of candy from his counter.

“you ready?” kento asks him, tossing satoru his gloves. “toto wants you to get a feel of the track, not pushing much this session” satoru nods at his words, following his friend out the door and into the bustling garage.

“alright let’s kick the weekend off!” satoru grins, grabbing his balaclava and helmet before putting them on and hopping behind the wheel.

you felt silly, really you felt like you were back in eighth grade and crushing on the star football player that everyone wanted. you especially felt silly asking you friend for their f1 tv login so you could watch the first free practice.

though satoru didn’t expect you to keep up with formula one and understand exactly how it worked, you’d figure if things were serious enough to fly you out to a different continent, you should at least understand what his greatest passion was. it was a rabbit hole you fell into one night, and multiple videos, google searches and questions to your friend later you had a basic understanding of the motorsport.

by the time you landed the second round of free practice was halfway underway, and as promised a driver was there to greet you and help with your bags.

“mr. gojo has arranged for you to have your own suite in the hotel,” the driver, ijichi, states. “however he has also asked me to give you a keycard to his room as well”, handing you two cards “in case you’d like to stay there instead.”

“oh thank you so much!” you exclaim, “I don’t have to check in or anything?” you ask, looking out the window in awe of the city around you.

“no, everything is set already” he says kindly, “and feel free to order anything for room service, if you’d like to go anywhere when he’s busy you can call my number” he hands you a small business card with a soft smile.

“oh wow thank you so much” you smile, “he really went all out huh.” ijichi smiles at you through the rearview mirror, nodding before focusing on the road again.

the hotel room was much larger and more expensive than you thought. you realized maybe you shouldn’t underestimate just how much money satoru had, and how willing he was to spend it on you.

curiosity got the best of you, setting your things down and walking into the hallway. the large window at the end of the hall caught your attention, your mouth falling agape when you saw just how close to the circuit you were. the cars seemed to fly on the track, and you found yourself looking for satoru’s. after a minute you headed back, finding his room and hesitantly putting the keycard up to the lock, heart racing when it actually unlocked the door.

satoru’s room was about the same as yours, and you could t help but snoop around. there were two beds in his room, whereas yours only had one. the notepad on the table has something written in it, you debated not reading it and minding your business. but you could only stop yourself for so long.

onigiri, strawberry sandos, chips?

the messy handwriting matched satoru's. was he thinking of foods to take on your picnic? the realization made your face heat up and your lips curl into a bashful smile. you stopped a giggle from leaving your lips, composing yourself before heading back to your own room.

your phone buzzed after a couple moments, speak of the devil.

‘just finished wrapping up, did you make it safe?’

you couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping this time, biting your bottom lip before typing out a reply.

‘yup !! just got to my room actually :3’

satoru smiled at his phone at your text, sending you a ‘see you soon then ;)’ before putting it in his pocket. as he exited the paddock a couple fans called out for him, making his step falter and head back to say hello, signing a few things before waving goodbye.

“good luck! we are all rooting for you!” one of them called out, he couldn’t help but smile widely, nodding before walking off. it hadn’t dawned on him really, the fact that it was his first ever home race in formula one. something he’d dreamed of since he first discovered the sport as a child.

he could feel his heart begin to race, hands getting a bit sweaty before he shook the thoughts out of his mind. he let his mind wander as he made the short walk to the hotel, catching himself grinning when he remembered you were waiting for him.

the soft knock on your door made your heart leap, unforeseen nerves surfacing as you thought about being face to face with the famed driver once again. a deep breath later you’re opening the door with a small smile, one that grows when satoru’s expression mirrors your own, growing in size upon seeing you.

“you really came” he breathes out, a relieved laugh leaving his mouth. “for a second i thought you were lying to me and had backed out” the admission made you gasp incredulously, smacking his arm and inviting him into your room.

“you wound me” you quipped back, “i wasn’t gonna leave you hanging, not after all the effort you’ve put into all this” your arms motioning to the room around you. satoru is glad his face a bit flushed from both the free practice and the walk here, or else you’d surely notice the prominent blush on his cheeks and ears.

“did you wanna go out today?” he asks, taking the liberty to sit on the edge of your bed, you’re quick to join him. despite having only known you for under a month, he could tell you were at odds as to what to say. “we can stay in, i know how exhausting flights can be.”

satoru’s toothy smile warmed your heart, his dimples seemed especially prominent today. you let your head rest on his shoulder letting out a small sigh.

“as much as i wanna go out and explore, yeah im exhausted” you chuckled. satoru couldn’t help but smile wider at the physical contact.

“how about we watch some movies and order in?” he suggests, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you down so the two of you were laying on your backs.

you turn to look at him, nodding your head as your eyes traced over his features. his hair was somehow still fluffy, blue eyes softly meeting yours. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, he didn't know someone could look as stunning as you do after a flight.

“sounds perfect” you whisper, eyes briefly landing on his lips before focusing back on his eyes.

satoru excused himself after ordering food, going to shower and change before coming back to your room to join you for the night.

it felt like the two of you were back in a bubble. just you and satoru getting to know each other, feelings growing after every exchanged glance and shared laugh. it didn’t feel like you’d met him three weeks ago, everything about him felt familiar. being with him felt safe, it felt right.

satoru felt it too, and it thrilled him. the warm feeling in his chest anytime he saw you, the way he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you a beat longer than normal.

it was during a stolen glance that the two of you caught each other, bursting into a fit of laughter before calming down.

“i thought you were watching the movie” you accused, tone playful as you look at satoru. he was leaning back on his arms, a charming smile on his lips as he cocked his head at your words.

“why should i? you aren’t watching it either” he shot back, smile never faltering as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“yes i am!” you defended, “you’re the one who keeps looking at me” satoru grins, leaning in a bit into your personal space.

satoru was confident and cocky when he wanted to be. but he was never one to make the first move, too scared to mess things up. it was the reason he hadn’t kissed you yet, despite having taken you out on multiple dates. with every centimeter he leaned closer, his heart rate rivaled the speed of it pounding in his chest during a race.

his face was only inches away from yours as he replied back, “too pretty to not look at.” the words have your face hot and heart pounding, your brain all over the place.

thankfully you didn’t have to think about what you wanted to do next. instead you bit the bullet and closed the space between the two of you, lips crashing onto his. satoru was quick to move a hand to cup your cheek, shifting it to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss after a moment.

you let your hands wander, tangling your fingers in his hair before traveling the expanse of his back and finding their way to his chest. pushing gently when you desperately needed a breath of fresh air.

even as you two pulled away your senses were consumed with him. you nose filled with the smell of his cologne and body wash mixed together, making your brain feel even fuzzier than it already was.

satoru was not much better, his mind in a haze as he tried to reel himself back in. the taste of your lips and the feeling of your hands on him stuck in his mind.

the end credits of the movie began to roll, causing the two of you to snap your heads to the screen before looking back at each other and laughing once more.

“i didn’t pay attention at all” you confessed, a shy smile on your face when satoru’s mouth dropped open.

“after you chewed me out for not paying attention!” he gasps, wrapping his arms around you and tackling you back onto the bed, “neither was i” he admits, laughing when you smack his chest.

there’s a moment of silence that blankets the room, a comfortable silence. it’s only broken by satoru’s phone buzzing, making him apologize and grabbing his phone to read the text notification.

suguru geto 11:37 pm

good luck tmrw

you take the opportunity to go to the restroom, coming back to find satoru laying on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. you’re quiet as you join him back in bed, laying next to him and glancing over at him.

“nerves?” you whisper, he gives you a convincing enough nod. satoru was not prepared to lay everything out for you, not tonight.

“first ever home race” he breathes in, sighing after a while before flipping to face you. “glad I’ve got you with me though” he grins. you blush, nodding your head before placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

the second movie was a failure as well, with both of you talking over it (and making out) the entire first half and falling asleep for the second half.

the next morning satoru is up before you, his eyes fluttering open and gaze settling on your sleeping form. he can’t describe the feeling in his chest, the feeling of waking up next to you. it’s something he wants to relive over and over again.

tomorrow, he decides. he’s asking you out tomorrow.

when you wake up there’s a note sitting on your nightstand. it’s satoru’s handwriting, written when he was still half asleep you assume from how messy it is.

left for free practice but I’ll see you at qualifying?? <3 :)

there’s a small doodle of a race car and two stick figures you can only assume are you and him. you can’t help but smile, folding the paper and putting it into your suitcase for safekeeping.

satoru feels good enough after the third free practice, getting out of the car with a smile. he’s quick to take his gear off, heading over to where kento was sitting to go over the strategy they had planned for qualifying.

you decide to head over to the paddock early, beating the crowds for qualifying so you don’t get lost or in the way. before long you’re in the Mercedes garage, with satoru’s assistant smiling at you and waving you over.

“satoru just went to the restroom but he’ll be back soon! you can wait here in his room” she opens the door and you thank her softly, looking around before taking a seat.

the door swings open, with satoru’s eyes seemings glowing with joy as he spots you.

“you’re here early! i didn’t think I’d see you until after qualis” he grins. you can’t help but be in awe of satoru in his racing suit, with the fireproofs hugging his body perfectly. as much as you try to not focus on how perfectly sculpted he is, you can’t keep your eyes off him. “hey now my eyes are up here” he teases, putting a finger underneath your chin and gently pushing it upwards.

“dunno what you’re talking about” you smile, “been looking at those pretty eyes this whole time.” satoru’s skin flushes, a smile on his lips before he’s pressing them onto yours, giggling into the kiss before pulling away.

“well now that you’re here do you want a tour?” you’re quick to nod yes, making his smile widen as he takes your hand in his and walks you out of the room.

satoru begins pointing and explaining everything, going into detail about more important things and how they contribute to the race. there’s movement all around you, with satoru speaking quite loudly so you can hear over the chaos of everyone prepping things before qualifying.

there’s a sparkle in his eye as he explains what the engineers do, his hands moving expressively as he looks at you, excited to see you’re paying attention to him still. “this is obviously the car, usually there’s more work being done around it but since we can’t make changes anymore it gets some time alone” he jokes, making you giggle as he takes your hand again, leading you out into the sunlight.

“so this is the pit lane, where the pit stops happen” he rambles on about pit stops for a second, pointing across the lane where the race engineers sit and explaining quickly how they communicate with him during the race.

satoru also explains to you what qualifying is all about, make it in the top 15 in Q1, then top 10 in Q2 then as best as you can in in Q3.

before long you’re wishing satoru luck, squeezing his hands and placing a kiss on his cheek. you head up to the seating area you’d been told and watch as he puts his helmet on before getting in the car, people surrounding him as they talk about god knows what.

soon enough he’s exiting the garage and into the pit lane, the first round of qualifying fast underway. he’s one of the last ones to set a time, landing himself in P14, a fact that made your palms sweat, knowing if he’d been a couple seconds slower he would’ve been out.

by the start of Q2 satoru pulls himself together, mind focusing only on the track and the car. he lands himself in P8, talking to the race engineers and tweaking his strategy to try and improve before the final round.

your fingers are crossed when he heads out for the final round of qualifying, bottom lip between your teeth as he pushes on his final attempt for a better starting position.

“and satoru gojo manages to land himself in P5! a rocky start to todays qualifying for the rookie but it seems as though he’s ready to take on his first ever home race” the commentator speaks.

you can’t help but cheer along with the others in the garage, beyond excited and proud of satoru as you join them outside to watch him pull into the assigned position.

it’s a sight to behold as he gets out of the car, pulling his baclava off his head with an open mouth smile. he finds you in the crowd almost instantly, winking at you before going to do his post race duties.

you wait for him in the garage, smiling when he finds you with a smile on his face.

“i told you you’d be amazing” you praise, letting him pull you into a hug despite being quite sweaty. “are you done for the day?”

satoru shakes his head, “not yet, I’ve got some media stuff and a debrief to go over data from right now” he sighs. “you can head back to the hotel and we can get dinner when I’m done?” he grins as you agree, saying goodbye to you before heading back into the garage.

true to his word satoru takes you out to dinner, treating you to only the best food as you two talk about anything and everything. you try and coax him into heading back early, but he refuses, taking your hand and pulling you through the city.

after two hours in the city satoru finally agreed to head back to the hotel, fingers interlocked with yours as you swung your arm back and forth with his.

“you’re nervous again” it comes out as more of a statement than a question. satoru sighs, staring at the sky while the two of you sit on a bench near the hotel.

“i don’t want to disappoint anyone, you know?” his voice is a bit shaky, “everyone has such high expectations of me because of how I’ve been doing and it’s getting to me a bit i guess” he changes his focus from a drifting cloud to picking at his nails, leg bouncing a bit.

“you’re going to do great out there” your hand makes its way to his thigh, squeezing reassuringly before taking his hands in yours. “and even if everything goes wrong and you get dead last you’ll still be my favorite driver,” satoru can’t help but smile, shaking his head and looking at you.

you end up staying in satoru’s room that night, despite your protests. he left you no choice when he grabbed your room keycard and held it above his head. you voiced your fear of getting in the way of whatever pre race rituals he does, to which he simply giggled and kissed you.

“i think cuddling can be a new pre race ritual of mine instead” he had replied, a coy smile on his face when you gave in and got into bed with him.

the next morning is a whirlwind as you head to the paddock with satoru. the two of you entering through a lesser used gate, one moment you were wishing him luck and kissing him on the cheek, the next he was already out of the garage and behind a Red Bull in the formation lap.

you help your breath as the five lights went out, watching on the edge of your seat as all 20 cars reacted quickly, fighting to get to the front.

“and the rookie tries to get the inside line on piastri but is unable to! pushed down to 7th place as alonso and norris over take him.” you let out a sigh as you listen to the commentator.

satoru stays in seventh for the better half of the race, managing to exit the pits before the mclaren in 6th and taking his spot. satoru is gains on alonso after a while, enabling DRS on a straight and managing to overtake him just before the turn.

a cheer erupts in the garage, with you nervously clapping as you stare at the monitor, a smile on your face as he fights to catch up to Ferrari ahead of him. soon enough he’s right behind him on a turn, pushing just enough to manage to get the inside line and successfully pass leclerc, putting himself in 4th place.

one more place for podium, you think. there was only a slight moment of peace when the standings were consistent for a good couple of laps, until satoru was close enough to 3rd to finally overtake them. the garage claps as he gained on the red bull in second place, with only a handful of laps left the chance of moving up a place was becoming slimmer.

“and we are in the final lap, with satoru gojo alarmingly close to Perez, could the rookie manage to snag second place in his first home race?”

“it seems like he might- he has DRS enabled and it pushing to pass Perez and he’s going to do it!” your mouth is agape in shock before you begin to cheer, smiling widely as he races by the checkered flag.

you can hear satoru cheering through the radio, the sound makes your heart grow warm. the entire garage is cheering, with everyone hugging each other and celebrating his success. everyone moves outside to greet satoru behind the barricades, with him throwing himself into his mechanics before even taking off his helmet.

when he finally does take his helmet off he’s looking for you, smiling widely when his blue eyes meet yours. he gets weighed and interviewed quickly, excitement over flowing as he answers questions with a giddy smile on his face the entire time.

as the podium ceremony begins you smile softly when satoru walks out, the crowd cheering loudly for their countryman as he waves. he finds you in the crowd again during the Dutch national anthem, sending you a wink as he claps when it ends.

the crowd cheers louder for him as he gets handed his trophy, holding it up proudly before setting it down as the celebratory music plays, being showered in champagne by the two Red Bull racers before he gets the chance to even pop his open.

when you see him again he’s pulling you in by the waist, smiling happily when you press your lips to his. he tastes like the champagne he was dripping in, the two of you are smiling into the kiss, giggling by the time you pull away.

“see? you had no reason to worry” you say, satoru smiles at you, his attention fully fixed on you. “my favorite driver” you grin, pressing another kiss to his cheek. it takes everything in him to not just ask you out then and there, not wanting to spend another moment with the thought of you never joining him again.

his name being called stops him, and he’s snapped back into reality.

“I’ve got some interviews i need to do and some stuff to make and film- but how does a picnic sound?” he asks.

“sounds perfect” you reply, “now go before they ban me for being too distracting” you push him softly, making him laugh before he’s giving you one last kiss, heading over to the social media coordinator.

it’s astounding to you the difference in demeanor satoru has now, sitting next to you atop a picnic blanket, compared to how he was during the race. the usual sure footed and confident formula one driver is gone, replaced by a nervous and bashful version of him.

“thank you for bringing me” you say, ending the beat of silence. “and thank you for the food too, it was really good,” you smile, relieved to see satoru smile back at you, slowly growing in confidence once again.

“i did tell you the convenience store was the right move” he quips, nudging your shoulder with his own.

“convenient, some would even say” you retort, giggling when he rolls his eyes and acts as if he’s scooting away from you. “you fly me out to japan just to scoot away from me?” you gasp, your lips turning upwards when satoru turns his back to you with a smile. “you know i think max might be my favorite driver” you say, laughing when he immediately snaps to face you with furrowed brows and a scowl on his face.

“that is so not fair!” he cries out, tackling you with a hug that causes both of you to fall backwards on the blanket. “take it back! say I’m your favorite!” he can’t help the smile on his face while he’s looking at you, hair a mess against the blanket.

“okay, okay you’re still my favorite driver” you admit, biting back a smile when you see how much his face lights up at your words. the spring breeze hits the two of you as you sit back up, cherry blossom petals falling around the two of you against a sky painted pinks and reds to match.

“i really like you” satoru blurts out, his gaze switching between his fidgeting hands and your face. you’re tempted to make a witty remark, something about you’d hope so after three week, but you hold your tongue.

“i didn’t think I’d find something serious, i wasn’t really- it wasn’t something high on my priority list you know?” he lets out a breathy laugh. “i told myself i was only gonna focus on driving, getting better and being the best, no time for anything else, no distractions,” you’re watching him intently, trying to read his facial expression when he’s looking at you.

was he breaking up with you? or was he-

“but you’re not a distraction, and i want to make time for you” his blue eyes are locked on yours now, no hints of uncertainty in his voice as he continues. “i want to be with you more than anything else; be by your side, have you cheering me on and celebrating after you pass exams, be able to just talk with you” he smiles.

“will you be mine?” satoru finally asks.

there’s a million thoughts in your head as you process his words, hundreds of reasons why you should say yes and thousands of what if’s. what about his schedule? and how much he travels and time zones and stress and school and-

there’s another gust of wind that causes more cherry blossoms to fall from the sky, landing over the two of you. you can hear a bird singing and you wonder if the universe itself is rooting for the two of you. a blossom falls perfectly on your face, landing on your cheek, it makes you smile.

“yes” your cheeks hurt from the smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, “of course yes!”

satoru meets your gaze with equal happiness as his arms immediately wrapped around you, squeezing your tightly. he lets out a sigh of relief, a wide smile on his face as he peppers your face with kisses. the two of you radiate the epitome of romance as you’re in each others embrace, with hearts practically forming as the two of you look at each other.

the night is spent in each others arms, giggles and dumb conversations filling the hotel room until late into the night. silly anecdotes and surprisingly deep questions keep the two of you from falling asleep, even when you both admit to your eyes burning from exhaustion.

“i don’t wanna go to sleep yet” he whispers, “because then it’s less time with you before your flight” the sadness in his voice is evident, and your tone mirrors it when you respond.

“me either” you sigh, one hand brushing the snowy hair out his his eyes and exposing his forehead a bit, “but then we’re both going to exhausted tomorrow” a small smile on your lips when satoru chuckles softly.

“yeah you’re right” he yawns, scooting closer to you before speaking up, “still can’t believe i won.”

“second place in your first year driving is an insane win” you agree, “you’re so talented, I’m so proud of you.” the words hit closer to his heart than satoru anticipated, breath hitching n his throat as he quickly regains composure and smiles.

“oh that too” he nods, “but i was talking about you being my partner” even as he utters the sentence he can’t help but get giddy, heart flipping as he watches a smile fight its way into your lips.

“you’ve had a great day haven’t you?” you ask with a smile, laughing when he nods happily in response.

the next morning both of you are beyond exhausted, a consequence of sleeping a mere four hours. neither of you regret it, only laughing it off as the two of you pack your bags up.

satoru would be heading back to his house in Monaco for the by-week before heading to shanghai for the chinese grand prix. you’d be heading back to your apartment for university and trying to catch up on work you could’ve been doing the entire weekend; you don’t worry about that yet, not when you have a 6’3 formula one driver by your side as you head to the airport.

“you’ll call me when you land?” he asks, a pout on his lips despite your nodding. “I’m gonna miss you so much” he sighs, pulling you into him by the waist and crashing his lips to yours.

you pull away after a moment, chasing his lips with a quick peck before sighing. “me too” you frown, “but we’ll call and text right?” the thousands of what if’s flood your mind as you look up at him, eyes frantically searching his face.

“you’re gonna be annoyed of me texting you” he smiles, kissing your cheek and extending out his pinky, “i pinky promise to call and text.”

you smile widely at his gesture, linking your pinky with his and shaking it softly, “i pinky promise to call and text.” satoru beams down at you, kissing you one last time.

you had barely sat down at your gate when your phone buzzed, a bashful smile on your face as you read the notification.

satoru <3

‘hi :3’

two what if’s were loudest in your head as you typed out your responsed; what if it worked out? what if it really was meant to be?

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke @cactisjuice @thewondrousdreamer @beaniebaby12 @kenmacantakemeaway

[aurorawritestoescape]

IN HIS ARMS || QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader || 5,2k

Summary: You meet a smuggler in the QZ and can't resist your attraction to him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of fluff, unspecified age gap, Fedra soldier!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, mirror sex, degradation, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, reader really loves Joel’s arms (who doesn’t), manhandling, alcohol consumption, use of a morning after pill, mention of guns, mention of canon-typical violence. Reader has hair. Joel can pick her up. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, created by talented, sweet and beautiful @joelmillerisapunk 💖 I got ‘Arms’ and immediately thought of meaty, beefy QZ Joel. Smooches to my lovely beta @milla-frenchy 😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love y’all! Hope you will like the story!❤️

MASTERLIST

“Let’s go.”

“Sure you need me there? It’s your deal, Ronnie. And you know you’re armed, right? Why do I always have to hold your hand?” you complain, while your eyes are scanning the crowd at a public hanging for any sign of disturbance. It’s not your favorite task but Fedra sends enough soldiers here to keep things under control so it usually goes smoothly. That’s probably why your friend Ronnie arranged a deal right in the middle of your shift.

“I’m nervous, ok,” he admits, glancing at you, “The dude’s fucking scary. Never worked with him before. But I’ve heard stuff. You’re just gonna stand there, that’s all. Don’t need to talk.”

You’ve known Ronnie since you were teens in a Fedra camp. Now both officers, you are still inseparable, though at this moment you’d prefer to be as far away from him as you could because in case you two get caught, you both will be a spectacle of the next hanging. Ronnie’s pleading eyes always work on you and the little weasel knows it well so you curse and follow him to the place of the meetup.

As soon as you see the smuggler, standing in a secluded spot far away from the prying eye, your heart starts beating faster. And not because he scares you. Yes, he’s huge and looks very unfriendly, thanks to his furrowed brows and the closed off stance which actually happens to be the culprit of your unexpected reaction. His pose accentuates the beauty of his arms as he’s crossing them in front of his chest. It’s a threatening sight, same as his gaze, but like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to the man immediately. All thoughts in your head are replaced with only one - he’s fucking hot.

Ronnie slowly comes up to the man, feigning confidence.

“Who the fuck is this?” the smuggler asks, nodding at you with his chin.

“Just a friend. Don’t worry, Joel.”

“I ain’t the one to worry here, kid,” he gruffs, uncrossing his arms as his fists clench in a threatening gesture and you can sense the waves of panic, coming from your friend. “I prefer to do these things one on one. Don’t need an audience. Ya got me?”

“Yeah, ‘k. Next time I’ll be alone.”

“Hope so.”

Joel looks you up and down and you suddenly feel too hot. Standing a step further from him than Ronnie and not saying anything, you’re ogling the man with hungry eyes. Joel seems to relax and the men finally exchange the goods— pills for your friend and ration cards for the smuggler. They’re talking about the product, scheduling the next deal, and you should be on the lookout, should be attentive to the surroundings, like you always are, but your mind, as well as other parts, is fully focused on the stranger.

Joel’s hairy forearms are thick and strong and every little move makes his muscles flex and bulge out of his rolled up sleeves of the denim shirt. His shoulders are broad and the fabric, containing them, is strained to the limit. You’ve never been a biter in bed but suddenly you want to sink your teeth into his arms, lick them all over, glide your hands over the vast expense of his skin, grab them and feel them tighten around your body, encompassing you fully, while his cock stretches…

“Hey!” Ronnie exclaims, interrupting your horny daydreams, pulling on your sleeve and you blink at him, trying to shake away the visions of the man, doing filthy things to you.

“Let’s go!” he says for what appears not the first time, and you smile awkwardly, noticing Joel’s smirk. His arms are crossed again, but now he’s looking at you with a twinkle of curiosity in his piercing eyes, his heavy gaze lightened up.

You take a step away, following your friend, but Joel stops you.

“Sweetheart, wait!”

The pet name hits you right in the pussy and you pause and turn back, confused by why he’s calling you.

“C’mere,” the man motions for you to return to him with a shake of his head, his bear hands shoved in the jeans pockets.

“We’re in a hurry, man,” Ronnie frowns, thinking he’s coming to your rescue, but you turn to him and say,

“It’s ok. Wait for me over there.”

You have no idea what Joel wants from you, but you’re eager to find out. Not hiding his anxiety, your friend takes a few steps away from you and stands at the gate, glancing in your direction from time to time while his hand is resting on his gun.

“Yes? Joel, right?” You ask, coming up to the smuggler and using every last drop of your will not to leer at his mighty arms again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

You reply with a little smile and see a smirk tug at his plush lips when he asks, “Like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been starin' at me like at a piece of meat. No use denyin' it."

You avert your eyes, chewing on your lip. You probably should be embarrassed to be caught ogling the man, but life in this miserable world taught you to take what you want whenever you can. Especially if it's being handed to you.

"I'm not." You look back at Joel with defiance in your gaze. "I think you're hot."

Joel’s chest expands when he takes a deep breath, the shirt’s buttons hanging for dear life. His piercing eyes turn a shade darker as he asks,

"Wanna do somethin' about it?"

Your heart rate increases and the warmth of arousal between your thighs makes you shift on your feet.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Come over to my place tonight. Around 8. Ask your friend for the address. He knows."

You don't reply for a few seconds, making it seem like you're thinking about your answer, although your pussy has been aching since the moment you saw the smuggler so there's no way you're going to reject his invitation.

"'K", you reply, feigning nonchalance, while excitement is twisting your stomach.

“What?! Are you out of your mind? You're gonna see him?” Ronnie hisses at you, as you two are walking back to the square. “He’s dangerous! Do you realize that? He’s huge! Have you seen his arms?”

“Oh, I’ve seen his arms alright,” you reply with a dreamy smile, sensing butterflies in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re so stupid when you’re horny. If I find you tomorrow dead in a ditch, I’ll tell your lifeless face ‘I told you so!’”

“Jesus, man,” You giggle, playfully punching Ronnie’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The night can’t come soon enough. Still wearing your uniform, you rush to meet the man who's been occupying your mind all day. When Joel opens the door to you, you swallow loudly seeing him in the same denim shirt and dark blue jeans. You’ve been dreaming of his huge arms around your body, so your panties are completely soaked, and having had no time to change after your shift, you hope to slide them off as fast as possible.

“Hi,” you greet the man, stepping into his apartment.

“Howdy.”Joel closes the door and stands next to you, while his gaze is sliding up and down your body. You look around the apartment, getting a whiff of his scent— sweat with a subtle trace of whiskey.

“Are you from Texas originally?” You ask, glancing up at him, slightly intoxicated by his closeness.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

He walks to the living area and you follow before leaving your guns at the door.

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka…water.”

“Vodka’s fine,” you reply, stepping up to a worn out couch and sitting down.

“Oh, are you a vodka girl?”

“I’m a ‘whatever burns’ girl, but vodka works faster on me,” you smile and Joel smirks, crossing his arms again. You swallow loudly, seeing his sexy tan forearms in the golden light of the setting sun. Fuck, you wanna touch them.

“Why d’ya need it to work fast? Doesn’t seem like you need any liquid courage.”

“Really?”

Joel goes to the kitchen and in a few seconds returns with a half empty Smirnoff bottle and two shot glasses. He plops next to you on the couch with a grunt and pours out the alcohol.

You drink yours in one go and Joel follows. The vodka burns and calms you down a little. Joel clears his throat before he speaks,

“This morning your friend was shaking like a leaf. And you… You were practically undressing me with your eyes, sweetheart.”

You smile and drop your gaze down to your lap.

“Well, Ronnie is a nervous guy and I’m …”

“A needy little slut?”

You shoot your eyes up at him and see a smug smile, tugging at his lips, as he awaits your reaction. You should probably feel offended or angry, but instead your core burns brighter at his degrading comment and your pussy flutters, as if proving him right.

He reads your reaction immediately.

“Oh you like that, huh?”

“What?”

“When I call you a slut.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumble while your mind is shutting down with every dirty word he throws at you.

“Yeah, you looked like a thirsty whore this morning. And I see that nothing’s changed.”

You’re barely breathing at this point, as waves of arousal ripple through your body, making you squirm in your seat.

“I…I just really like your arms.” Your gaze shamelessly slides over his body, so big and powerful.

“My arms?” Joel’s brows shoot up and he turns his head to look at his arm, resting on the back of the couch, as if trying to understand your attraction.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, ogling the muscles straining his sleeve.

“Wanna touch ‘em, baby?”

“Yes, please”.

“So polite. Wanna call you a good girl but we already know that you prefer ‘a slut’.”

Joel chuckles and narrows his eyes, watching you for a few seconds, while you’re melting under his lustful gaze, sinking in the sticky pit of desire. Through the fog in your head you hear his voice, low but still powerful.

“How about we skip the pleasantries then and get to the thing you came for.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna fuck you. And let you touch my arms.”

Your breath hitches and your body tingles all over. You can’t agree fast enough.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Do you always say ‘yes’ to everything, little slut?” he smirks, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

You try to come up with a witty response but your mind is clouded with lust so you just shake your head with probably the dumbest look ever.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You mumble and when he points you in its direction, swiftly walk there.

You close the door in the little room and check your face in the mirror. It’s the same as every day except for your glossy eyes. You rinse your face, trying to come to your senses, look a little less horny but it’s all in vain. The desire overtook your body completely so you dry yourself and leave the room.

When you return to Joel, you find him on the couch in the same spot and in the same position. Only now he’s completely naked.

A shiver goes down your spine from a new surge of arousal, tightening your core.

You barely hear him, your mind is fully occupied by the image of this gorgeous, huge man, waiting to fuck you. Everything about him makes your pussy beat with the rhythm of your heart - his soft belly, his long, girthy, slightly curved semi hard cock, resting on his thick thigh, his broad hairy chest and muscular arms. Seeing them without the confines of the clothes completely shuts off your brain and you take a step towards him, mesmerized by his muscles, wishing to feel them already.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You hardly hear him, taking in every inch of his body.

“Girl! Undress. Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans and you shake your head, waking up from a horny trance, and start discarding your clothes hastily, piece by piece while his dark gaze is set on you. You should be more graceful and seductive taking them off, but your aching pussy makes your movements rushed and determined. When you’re completely naked, except for your panties, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the last piece of clothing, but Joel stops you.

He gets up and walks to you, his big cock in his veiny hand.

“Wanna do it myself,” he mumbles and stands next to you, at your side, so close that you feel his warm breath on your cheek and breasts, his naked chest brushing against your shoulder, his manhood poking your thigh.

“Pretty little thing,” he whispers, taking in your body, while his hand slides down your back, leaving chills in its wake. You raise your big eyes at him, your lips parted. “Pity you get so dumb though,” he chuckles and lightly squeezes your asscheek. His hand stays there while the other one cups your breast and grazes your nipple with his calloused thumb, making it stiff. You moan and he groans.

Joel’s palm on your ass moves lower, and reaches your pussy, covered by the wet panties. He slips his finger between your asscheeks and rubs your drippping hole over the gusset. You softly whimper and he plants a light kiss on your cheek, stroking your folds over the fabric.

“She’s been crying for me all day, huh?” he mumbles, placing his large warm hand on your belly, the other one still caressing your cunt. “Pussy so needy she shut down your whole little brain. Yeah, baby?”

All you can do is nod, your senses fully focused on the way his thick fingers are rubbing your aching cunt over the underwear.

“She must be cold, sweetheart, being in a pair of wet panties all day like that?” He coos at you.

“Yeah”, you reply, barely breathing, already feeling your orgasm build because of his light touches. “Didn’t have time to change. I have a sexy pair at home.”

Joel breathes out a chuckle, “I bet you do, little slut. Would love to see ‘em too one day.”

The only response you can give is a mewl.

He steps in front of you, his hand leaving your pussy, and you whine. Joel tsks at you and pinches your chin with his fingers to lift your face to his.

“Oh, my pretty bimbo, already cock drunk,” he laughs, locking eyes with you.

Joel’s so huge, you should probably be scared, but all you feel is a pathetic need to be completely destroyed by him.

“Lights are on but…fuck, you’re gone,” he mocks you, looking into your hazy blown out eyes.

“Listen to me,” he commands, as his fingers slightly shake your head, getting your attention. “How do you want it? Gentle or rough, sweetheart?”

“Rough,” you croak back without any hesitation.

“Good. Then do what I say and we gonna have a great time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good little slut.”

Your breaths are short and fast as you’re blinking, starting at him like a mindless fuck doll. Suddenly, you gasp when he grabs the back of your thighs with his massive hands and lifts you, throwing your legs around his waist. You grab onto his broad shoulders and he carries you away from the couch and to the bedroom.

He drops you on the bed, old and stiff, but you don’t care. You have no time or ability to think about anything, because as soon as you’re on your back, Joel pins you to the lumpy mattress with his heavy torso and kisses you. He’s not asking for a kiss, he’s taking it but you willingly open your mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. A happy moan escapes your mouth, when you finally glide your palms over his huge arms. He slides your panties off and cups your pussy with his huge warm palm.

“Messy whore,” he mumbles against your mouth.

Joel’s assertive, passionate and as horny as you are, and you smile against his lips, enjoying his desire for you.

He begins peppering kisses along your jaw, your neck, leaving hickeys on his way to your breasts.

You whimper when his mouth finds your nipple and gasp when he nips at it. He licks the pain away and starts sucking on it while his hands are roaming your heated body.

You grab onto his shoulders and shift your hips under his arm. Joel’s slurping and growling, caressing your breast with his lips and tongue, but you crave more so you start grinding your wet pulsating pussy against his arm. Your movements immediately send you to the precipice of your climax. His muscles flex as you rub your clit against them, smearing your slick over his tan skin, and Joel parts from your tit for a few seconds to watch you use his arm to get yourself off.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy. Gonna need a shower after this. Or…,” he smirks and gets back to suckling your other breast.

Each motion of his muscles is helping you to come as you’re dragging your pussy up and down his heavy limb. Soon you throw your head back, dipping it into the pillow when a hard climax hits you and your cunt contracts around nothing, as euphoria is coursing through your veins, taking away the last of your clear thinking.

“That’s it— take it, slut— come for me — jus’ like that,” Joel mumbles against your trembling chest but you hardly hear him, so deep in the ocean of desire, all sounds around you are muffled.

The next thing you feel is his hands grabbing your shoulders and lifting you. Joel makes you sit up and wraps his heavy hand around the back of your neck.

“Look what you’ve done, messy girl.”

He nods at his arm, glistening with your cum and slick and then growls, “Lick it clean.”

With a hazy smile you sit on your heels, getting comfortable. Then you take his arm between your hands and reach for it. Your tongue slides over his hot wet skin and you flutter your eyes shut, reveling in the sensations of his firm muscles under your tongue and the earthy taste of your juices.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you and slightly squeezes the back of your neck to make you move your head lower and lap up all the mess you’ve left on his skin.

When you finish, Joel lifts your head and sees you staring at his throbbing cock with empty but hungry eyes. It’s leaking precum generously and you almost drool looking at it. You should probably be nervous to take his huge length but all you feel is feral lust.

Placing his palm under your jaw, Joel tilts your head up and searches for your eyes.

“Damn, lookin’ so dumb right now. Lucky you remember how to breathe, little whore.”

He laughs at you and grabs your face, as his fingers dig into your cheeks, making your lips pout.

You whine and he pulls you into his chest. You hug him as if afraid to float away and he gives you a few moments of rest while you are panting, snuggling into his embrace after the shuddering orgasm.

Then he lifts your chin and locks eyes with you. Your breath hitches as you’re struck by his handsome face, which leans down and he kisses you again, gently and slowly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. Then he asks,

“Why do you like my arms so much?”

You blink a few times, trying really hard to understand the question, drunk on his taste and the way he’s holding you, but when the meaning finally reaches your brain, you stumble over your words.

“I… they… jus’ so big. And … fuck, very hot.”

You feel his broad chest shake with a quiet laugh. “Ready for my cock, baby?” You nod your head with a soft mewl.

“Wanna watch my arms when I’m railing you?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Joel hums and gets up before manhandling you off the bed and leading you to a wardrobe. He’s holding you under your arms, noticing that your weak legs are barely able to move, still tingling after your orgasm. He places you like a fuck doll in front the wardrobe door with a mirror and stands behind you. He’s so big and broad that you can see his shoulders and arms perfectly in the reflection. Your gaze glides over your own naked body, and you notice a path of hickeys along your neck and breasts and your core ignites again at the sight of his passion. Then you look at Joel, his eyes are obsidian, the expression is carnal and hungry, and you moan, feeling his cock slap your lower back.

His gaze drops down before he pushes your legs aside with his knee, his thick fingers dig into your hips and he pulls your ass, making you stick it out. Trying to steady yourself, you brace your hands on the mirror in front of you, but he grumbles,

“Not the mirror, stupid. You’ll break it, cut yourself.”

You swiftly move your hands further apart onto the wooden surface.

“Sexy but so dumb,” he mumbles as his eyes return to your ass and his cock. You watch his face, serious and concentrated, and sense his tip prod your sopping hole.

“Fuck,” he curses and pushes his cock deeper, slightly bending his knees to insert it into your tight pussy easier.

You push your ass out more for him, already whimpering like a whore, as you feel your walls slowly part to accommodate his stiff cock. It stings but you welcome the sensation of his manhood spreading your pussy until he bottoms out and you both moan at the sensation.

“Ahh— she feels amazing, baby,” he grunts and you smile dumbly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he murmurs, starting to plunge his length in and out of you with a fast rhythm, “oh, yeah — yeah — yeah—.”

His fat cock is massaging your walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust and you mewl with pleasure and scratch the wooden surface of the wardrobe with your nails.

“Naughty kitten. Tess will kill you if you leave marks on her furniture,” Joel chuckles through heavy panting, squeezing your hips and watching your cunt swallow his glistening cock.

“Who’s Tess?” You ask, not really giving a fuck and he doesn’t reply.

Instead he grants you your biggest wish - he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your torso from behind. Your hands immediately fly to grab onto his strong limbs. Joel’s right arm is under your breasts, slightly pushing them up. The other one is keeping you in place, pressed to your chest, between your tits, his giant hand on your throat. His thick fingers curl around your neck but he doesn’t squeeze it, just holds you close against his broad torso.

The sensation and the vision of his powerful muscular arms bonding you to him like that, make your pussy contract and Joel growls in your ear, his breath hot and wet,

“Squeezing me already? Fuck, you’re easy.”

You whine and Joel nibbles on your ear lobe and rasps,

“Hold tight, baby, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

As soon as the words reach your ear, he begins rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy, hard and fast.

You grab onto his bulging muscles better, and as he’s increasing the pace, you’re scratching him with your nails, leaving white marks on his golden skin and whimpering.

“Yeah, take it, dumb little whore. Gonna fuck the last of your brain out of your pretty head.”

Your breasts bounce while he’s fucking you and you bite your puffy lips, trying to muffle your moans, but Joel commands against yout ear,

“Want you to be loud, baby. C’mon. Let them all hear how good im fuckin’ ya.”

You would do anything he told you this moment so your lips part and you let your pleasured noises out, as they mix with the sound of skin rhythmically slapping against skin and his animalistic groans.

Reveling in the sensation of Joel, pounding your crying cunt, you let your hands wander all over his forearms and shoulders, squeezing and scratching them slightly, wishing to memorize the feeling of their strength under your hungry touch. Your vision is shaking with every mighty thrust of his hips but you’re watching the reflection of you two closely, drowning in the image of this tall broad man using you like a mindless fuck doll, caging you in his powerful arms and tears well up in your eyes at how amazing it feels. Your mind and body are focused on this pleasure, suffering and worries of the reality are gone and the drops of pure happiness spill and fall on his arms.

Joel notices you crying and stops fucking you, swiftly pulling out and turning you around.

“What is it, baby? Did I hurt ya?”

His dark eyes, a second ago filled with carnal desire now worried and concerned, dart all over your face and body, searching for the reason of your tears.

You grab onto him and shake your head,

“No, no, i’m fine — feels so good - you feel so good, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he breathes out, pulling you into his bear hug and rubbing your back with his warm hands.

“Please keep fucking me,” you mumble against his hairy chest and he barks a laugh before throwing you back on the bed, making you squeal with excitement.

Joel lies down and manhandles you to straddle him.

“Sit on my cock, little slut,” he commands, eyes darting between yours, reading your reaction.

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his hot hard cock and lifting your hips, hovering over it. You don’t make him wait and immediately sink down on his weeping manhood, as your mouth falls open and your head tilts back.

Joel’s hands are holding your hips when you start riding him, and then snake up to your breasts to knead them, pinch and twist your pebbled nipples.

You run your fingers over his forearms from the elbows to his wrists and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. Not pausing your lustful dance on his cock, you gently kiss his palm, his hand, then your lips glide down, leaving open mouth kisses over his wrist, the underside of his forearm and his elbow, darting your tongue out and tasting his salty skin. You lean forward, your nipples brushing his chest, and kiss his biceps, using your tongue, and Joel moans, watching you practically make out with his arm.

“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” he groans while you’re lapping at his skin with your eyes shut. You’re softly whimpering at the sensation of his body, big and strong under you, his cock caressing your walls, making your pussy flutter around it, pushing you closer and closer to your second climax.

“Shit,” Joel curses, pulls your head off his arm and kisses you, while hugging your torso with his python-like grip. He’s holding you tight and you whine, not being able to move your hips and chase your orgasm. Sensing your impatience, Joel plants his feet on the bed and begins jackhammering his fat cock into your slicked up pussy, giving it to you rough and fast, not sparing your little hole.

You’re moaning against his scruffy cheek, your body shaking with his feral thrusts but Joel’s iron hold is keeping you in place.

“Usin’ you like a fuck doll you’re, yeah? Brainless little slut. Made just to make my cock happy. Perfect for me.”

His filthy words, leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, are barely audible because of the loud slapping of his body against yours and the squeaking of the old bed.

“Joellll…,” you moan, and after a few more thrusts explode on his thumping cock, caged by his strong arms, sobbing with heavenly pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

“Hnggg—shit—can I come inside?” You hear a gruff roar in your ear and with Joel fucking your brains out right this moment, you breathe out, “yeah, oh, yeah.” You crave to be full of him, drip him for days after, getting turned on just from the memory of him. As soon as you agree, Joel starts spurting his hot cum into your pulsating cunt, filling you up, emptying his balls into you.

You’re lying still, nuzzling his neck and taking everything he’s giving you, milking his cock to the last drop with your contracting walls.

Gradually intense ecstasy morphs into a pleasant satisfaction and you both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms. You feel almost high on endorphins, not used to such an amount of happiness in your veins, in your life.

Joel softens his embrace but still holds you, letting you rest and you almost doze off, lulled by his warm chest rocking you up and down like a giant wave.

“Don’t sleep yet, ya need to take a pill,” he gently shakes you, sleep heavy in his own voice.

“Oh, yeah…fuck, you came inside,” you murmur, blinking at him, as your mind fog slowly clears up.

“I have a Plan B, don’t worry.”

He moves you off him and lays you down on the bed, then gets up, making the bed squeak.

You can’t move your limbs even if you tried to so you’re lying there, feeling his warmth between your legs, kisses of the afterglow all over your heated skin and smile lazily when he returns to the bed with a glass of water.

“Look at you, as cock dumb as they get, huh?”

He plops down next to you and hands you the pill.

You sit up with a tired smile, swallow the pill and chase it with a few sips of water.

“Good girl,” Joel takes the glass from you and shakes his head when you murmur that you need to go.

“No way. Sleep here. They'll hang your ass if they catch you out and about at this hour.”

You turn your head to the window, just noticing that it’s completely dark outside, only the street lamps illuminate the room with a yellow light.

“Aww, you care about me, Joel? Don’t fall in love,” you giggle but your heart flutters as you look up at the man, so handsome and huge, looming over you.

“I’ll try,” he deadpans and shakes his hand, motioning you to scooch.

You shift to the other side of the bed and he lies down on his back with a grunt. You’re still sitting up, shamelessly admiring his naked body.

“Quit starin’,” he mumbles with eyes closed and pulls you down onto his chest.

You’re lying on his shoulder for a few moments and then whisper,

“Can you big spoon me?”

“Jesus…,” he sighs but turns on his side, scooping you in his embrace and you smile, closing your eyes as your hands gravitate to his arms, heavy and secure around you. You press your back into his warm chest and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖🌸

Masterlist

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If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request Cregan Stark x female!reader where reader is sleeping in her chambers and has a nightmare and walks the halls late at night going to Cregan’s chambers for comfort but is also hesitant because the two haven’t really spent time together since they were put into an arranged marriage. She stands in front of his bedroom door while trying to decide if she should knock or not but before she could Cregan opens the door after hearing movement. He spends the night trying to make her feel safe. Thank you 😊

I’m rusty and out of practice after not writing for hotd for so long but I hope this makes up for it 🦦🐿️

You couldn’t go back to sleep, the nightmare had awoken you so suddenly and violently that the idea of falling back to sleep disturbed you greatly, so instead you took to walking the foreign halls of your new home in Winterfell.

In truth it took some time for you to get accustomed to the change in climate, that and the change from your old rather relaxed and light attire to thick furs and multiple layers to keep warm, but you were reassured by your parents that you’d sooner or later come to love the endless landscapes of snow with your arrange marriage to Lord Cregan Stark.

Now Cregan Stark had been nothing but considerate and generous towards you, a honourable man amongst immature little boys as your father would put it, and his words have never been more true as house Stark was well known for their loyalty and their dedication to their duty. However it was due to Cregan’s commitment to his duty that left you with little to no time to get to know the man who had already garnered quite the reputation for himself. You did not blame the man for doing so, it was admirable to see a man do whatever it took to protect his home compared to those who dared called themselves men back home; the very same ‘men’ who’d abandon their wives and children for a silver of something…younger and more beautiful.

And yet you found yourself coming out of a self induced daze and stood outside of Cregan’s own personal chambers, almost as if your body had stopped it’s ceaseless wandering and brought you to the one person who could bring you comfort on its own accord, but yet you failed to find the strength to even lift a hand to knock on the heavy door as new thoughts of whether you’d be interrupting or annoying him with your presence; This was the only time where you wished you spent more time getting to know Cregan as you didn’t know the type of man he’d be when you needed him for moments such as these, moments where you’d be frightened and out of your mind with increasing worry, even over the smallest of things.

Would you be a burden to him? Too much for him? Would your actions tonight alone would bring about the end of the arrangement? All these answers so much more ran rampant within your head as you began to second guess whether or not this was your smartest of decisions, going and seeking comfort from a man you knew far too little about on a personal level over something as simple as a nightmare, you’ve contemplated this for quite a while to the point you felt stupid and childish that you didn’t notice the noise you had made already brought Cregan out of his slumber.

‘Are you alright m’lady?’ Cregan asks upon noticing how conflicted you looked as you shifted your weight on your feet and fiddling with your hands.

‘My lord,’ you gasped, ‘what’s you doing up at such time as this?’

Cregan tilted his head. ‘Well I heard shuffling outside my door and I came to see what it was, only to find you in deep thought.’ He then reached out to grasp your hand in his securely as his eyes softened. ‘Is there something the matter? Something wrong?’ He then asks in a whisper. ‘Anything I can do to help my betrothed rest easier?’

You tried to smile as authentically as you could in hopes of dissuading Cregan from going out of his way for you and let out a laugh. ‘There’s no need, I just…needed some air and familiarise my new home.’ You told him but it was obvious that he wasn’t buying it as Cregan looked down the hallway before pulling you into his chambers and closing the door behind him. ‘Now that there is no possibility for anyone to intrude, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you m’lady?’

‘I-‘ you tried to speak but found yourself falling short of an easily believable answer, especially not when his eyes seemingly read you like an open book.

‘There is no need to keep up appearances, not with me,’ Cregan says as he gently guides you to a nearby chair, still holding your hand, as though deep down he knew that you needed to be in some form of constant contact with him to bring yourself back to reality. ‘Now tell me what’s gotten you so distraught?’ He knew something was wrong but didn’t know how to handle the situation without you telling him what it was that was disturbing you. Now Cregan understood that you might not be on that level of comfortability with him just yet to open up about your innermost thoughts and feelings, he can just hope that him being here with you was proof enough to show that he deeply cared for your well-being, and that with time you’ll come to him freely and without fear that he’d cast you and your heart aside.

You didn’t say anything at first, still having your concerns on how he’d react once you tell him, but the other side of your mind was telling you to take this an an opportunity to make up for the lack of time to get to know each other, so you opened your mouth and the words that you’ve been trying to put a stop poured out seamlessly. ‘I had a nightmare and I thought that a walk would help but it seems as though at the thought of you, my feet brought me to your chambers on their own accord.’

Cregan smiled softly as he squeezed your hand, running his thumb across it. ‘Is that so m’ lady? You thought of me in your moment of need?’

‘Of course,’ you tell him, finally squeezing his hand back, feeling yourself growing more confident and secure within his presence, ‘It was as though deep down I knew you’d never scoff at my worries, and instead bring me comfort as though it were instinct, but my mind tried to trick me into believing that you wouldn’t and I would’ve believed them had you not answer the door when you did.’ You admitted and felt a weight come off of your shoulders, allowing you to fully relax within Cregan’s presence that felt akin to the comforting weight of furs being draped over your shoulders, comforting, warm and grounding.

‘And I never would scoff at your worries because your worries are my worries m’lady.’ Cregan tells you as he knelt before you, resting his free hand against your cheek, watching as you melted into his touch, sighing in content. ‘Now tell me how I can be of help to you be rid of this pain?’ He then asks softly as though speaking any louder would somehow offend you.

‘Pardon me if this seems too forward my lord but,’ you paused to take in Cregan’s handsome features before looking down at your intertwined hands, this was the union that your parents wanted for you and now that you were here with him, you didn’t want to leave for your lonely chambers, ‘would you allow for me to stay here for the night, held in your arms until the nightmare is a memory long forgotten.’ You finished, looking into his eyes as they gleamed with happiness and love.

‘Only if you are comfortable with that m’lady.’ Cregan said and you couldn’t help but chuckle as his thoughtfulness towards you, the same thoughtfulness that suggested sleeping in separate rooms until you felt comfortable enough to share a room with him.

‘Of course I do,’ you tell him with a real genuine smile, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as you squeezed his hand, ‘I wouldn’t have suggest it if I didn’t.’ You added and without hesitation Cregan brought you into his strong arms as he carried you off towards his bed, laying you down gently as he join you before pull in you back into his arms again, softly guiding your head into resting against his chest.

Cregan turned out to be a lot warmer than you had originally expected but you couldn’t help but snuggle further against him, making him smile and press a featherlight kiss to your head as he tightened his hold on you. ‘I promise to keep your nightmares at bay as you deserve only the sweetest and kindest of dreams to greet you at the end of every day.’ He promises to you as he pressed another kiss to your head, making you smile widely as you couldn’t help but feel as though you were already living within a dream with how impossibly perfect Cregan was.

‘I feel as though I am in one already my lord.’ You tell him sleepily.

‘Then I shall try my best to make you keep thinking that m’lady.’ Cregan replied as you soon feel asleep against the man who had quickly claimed your heart.

[figsnpassionfruits]

Turbulences

a/n: ahh where were all these fics when i was 15 and desperately longing for logannnnn?!?!!? anyway- here is another source of logan fics: me <33 word count: 748 tags: logan howlett x fem!reader (can be read as gn!), angst, fluff' warnings: mentions of death, canon-typical violence implications, logan having logan feelings dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

He should have known this would have happened. When sent by the X-Men to go change the past; he should have known. Out of all the years he had been alive, why here? Why did he have to land right here? Logan had spent years trying to forget about this. Trying to forget about you. And here you were being the big spoon, an arm thrown over his neck, a leg of yours intertwined with his within the messy sand-colored bedsheets.

Even though he had just gotten here, he knew exactly where he was. This was the home you both shared together. The place the both of you had spent weeks decorating, eager to call one another each other’s home. He knew it even before he opened his eyes, his enhanced sense of smell dominating his being. When he finally collected his strength to open his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Maybe it was to inhale your scent. Maybe it was an effort to calm himself. Regardless, he did not even know which one it was for.

Once his eyes adjusted to the warm morning sun beaming through the windows, he placed a hand on your wrist, closing his eyes slowly as he did. It hurt him. He did not deserve to get to touch you again. Not after knowing that your fate was inevitable. Logan let out a long and shaky sigh, blinking his eyes open, not allowing a single tear to form. His hand was still on your wrist, his mind yelling at him to let go but his body desperately clinging for the familiar feeling of holding a lover.

After another deep breath and wrestling with his inner thoughts, Logan allowed himself to rub his thumbs along his grip he had on your skin. It was as soft as he remembered. Without letting himself think too much, he pulled your arm up to his face to place a soft kiss on one of your knuckles. Instinctively, he leaned his head down, resting his nose on your hand, inhaling your scent further.

Not realizing it, a tear had fallen onto your skin. Logan watched the salty drop of liquid trickling down your wrist, the sunrays making it shimmer. As a response your wrist twitched, the feeling of the water alerting your body in your deep state of sleep. Not wanting it to disturb you any further, Logan wiped off the remains with the same thumb he had caressed your skin with.

Perhaps seconds passed, perhaps minutes; Logan decided that it was time to face you. There was no running anymore. He was in this room with you at your old home that held the best memories of his life. You were here and you were alive. Either way, he had an objective, a mission, that he was sent to complete. No matter how much he wanted to forget about that, the way he wanted to forget about you, he could not. And it fucking hurt.

Resting his body weight on a forearm, Logan sat up slightly, turning his body to face your sleeping frame.

There you were.

Messy bed hair, slightly apart lips and as beautiful as he remembered.

Reluctantly he put a hand on your cheek, his breath hitching once his skin made contact with yours. This felt so wrong. But this was how it always should have been. Domestic and intimate. Any physical contact reminded him of your death. There were too many answers that he had never gotten. Were you screaming? Was it quick? Did you suffer? Were you scared? All he knew was that he was responsible. If you had never met him, you would not have died.

Lost in his thoughts, Logan ignored the stinging feeling in his eyes, indicating yet another tear close to escaping. He travelled his other hand underneath the sheets, resting it at the small of your waist, caressing the skin while thanking the universe that you were a heavy sleeper.

He did not want to allow himself to kiss you. He did not deserve it.

But you did.

With a glance at the clock hanging across from your bed, Logan fixed his gaze back onto you, taking in every feature of yours. He did not have much time.

Exhaling a breath he did not he was holding, Logan finally closed the distance, delivering a kiss to your lips.

He had to get up and leave now. He knew he did.

But he really did not want to.  

🍯

[sscieloz]

Late night halloween interruptions

Yoo Jimin x Producer!reader

Synopsis: being one of Aespa’s main producers and songwriters meant having to work restlessly to deliver the best track of the year— even if it meant sacrificing a Halloween night out. however, focusing on work turns out to be rather difficult when a certain blonde idol keeps distracting you from your goals.

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: you better wish I have a great fckn test thursday and friday. plus I didn’t proofread it and I WILL NOT. I still stuck at writing smut and I’m angry. also happy early halloween <3 blonderina lives forever in my mind and now in yours, too. ps: this was originally dom!reader but I changed my mind so it’s just a mess.

You were busy with the computer in front of you when you heard the click of the door, despite your heavy headphones. The soft, almost unnoticeable sound made you turn your chair to face the stranger who disturbed your work and dared to annoy you long after your work hours, late at night at the firm.

It wasn’t a total stranger, though. Staring back at you was Yoo Jimin, looking as angelic as always with her plump, rosy lips and porcelain skin. She had a sneaky smile on her face, tracing your desk with her featherlight fingers as she looked for any signs of dust.

“What do you want, Karina?” Your words came out harsh, unlike you intended to, but you still didn’t apologize. You could feel the tiredness wearing down your bones, the disturbance reminding you of the reason you were up so late in one of the company’s many music studios in the first place: so you wouldn’t be bothered at all.

Yet, she found you. You didn’t expect any less, with Karina hunting you down ever since she first laid her eyes on you, the day you were announced as one of the songwriters and record producers for the group’s latest comeback. Being only four years older, your lack of age made it easy to bond with all the girls: it gave them confidence to join in the making of their songs, too, getting deeply involved in the whole process of their comeback. The four band members trusted you and loved having you around, confiding their feelings and running to you whenever they felt bad or insecure. They all looked up to you— you knew it as much, and because of that, you were always pushing yourself to be the best, hardworking version of yourself you could.

Which was why you were always making sure to listen to their wishes and give them feedbacks on their ideas, so they’d grow as idols and song producers. You might not be as old in age as most of the producers in the industry, but you’ve already had your handful of successful collabs with well-known artists who did nothing but essentially praise you: you were skilled, and knew what you were doing, so it was only natural you exchanged some of your experiences with the girls.

Nonetheless, said closeness allowed the blonde girl to often stare at you like you were the only possible prey for a wolf who’s never eaten in its entire existence. Provocative dances, gifting your coffee orders each morning, stupid questions that kept you busy with her for hours, when you should be working… She certainly made your life difficult, toying with you while you tried as hard as you could not to indulge the idol. It was forbidden for employees to hook up with the company’s celebrities, after all, and you couldn’t risk losing your job.

“Good night to you, too, Y/n.” She greeted you, eyes darting around the place attentively. To make sure you were alone, most certainly. Jimin’s eyes lit up when her assumptions turned out right, happy to see you weren’t hiding some low-class hookup in the room. No, she’d have none of that. “I was just looking for you. You’re missing from the party.”

SM’s traditional Halloween party, currently happening many levels down the recording and mixing room, was one of the many fancy ballrooms hosted by the company at any given chance with intents to show off its supremacy and, of course, hegemony in the musical field. Your friends and coworkers tried getting you to attend multiple times, but you had shrugged them off. You liked hanging out with them, naturally, but not enough to put on a stupid costume and make small talk with preposterous, shallow people for hours straight. So you denied all the invites, knowing your presence wouldn’t be missed at all: they knew how to party by themselves, beyond everything.

As Karina reminded you of the current event, you took some time to take a proper look at her. Wearing a corset that enunciated her curves and the traditional red cape, along with heavy, black makeup contrasting perfectly with her long, blonde hair, Karina was impeccably dressed as Red Riding Hood. She’d even brought the damn basket with her, currently left hanging in the corner of the room.

She’d grown accustomed to the idol life, you noticed as the blonde stared at you with delight and confidence, certainly not innocent nor shy anymore as when she met you, nearly two years ago.

The old Karina would never wear such a thing. It made her stand out too much, and she loathed it, to have all of the attention and the stares focused solely on her. You still remember that same girl at last year’s Halloween party: dressed as a witch, wearing one of Minjeong’s old costumes, observing the older subaenims and idols with curious, scared doe eyes. Innocent, even.

And the young woman who looked at you like she was ready to devour you whole was anything but.

Karina didn’t mind your lack of manners, though. Leaning on your mixing table as if she owned it, she tried again, “Aren’t you coming to the party? Really? Come on, it’s Halloween! Don’t be so boring and live life for once, for God’s sake.”

You scoffed, coughing hard enough that you had to take a sip of your water to cool yourself, “The party’s for idols and shareholders.”

“And employees too, silly head.” She answered just as quickly, with a broad smile, dismissing all the dryness in your tone. This time, the look in her eyes reminded you of the Karina she truly was: tender, cautious, almost delicate. “I have a spare outfit, in case you want to keep the theme. You’d be the wolf, then.”

You turned your computer off, narrowing your eyes at her. Her intentions weren’t subtle: it was just as clear as clear water for anyone to see, but you couldn’t help it. You just had to have her begging.

For months, you’ve imagined what those pretty lips would look like all messed up with your juices, bruised from your bites and kisses. The thought of it being forbidden only fuels you with the need to ruin her even more. It makes you itch with how much you want to carve your name onto her skin, leaving her as nothing but a whimpering mess until no one— not even herself, could please her anymore. Only you would be capable of bringing her over the edge, from then. Your most feverish wish was to ruin her for anyone else.

You wouldn’t do it, though. It was forbidden, as said before, and you could lose your job for that. So, naturally, you wouldn’t.

She was fucking testing you, though.

“What do you want, Karina?” You repeated yourself, tone incisive, and yet she didn’t let go.

She was having fun with her girls before searching for you. It was her first year attending the party as an official idol, just as she’d always dreamed of. Nothing would piss her off, and she would get what she wanted.

And currently, what she wanted was to have the pretty producer everyone was whispering about around the hallways all to herself.

“It’s Jimin to you, Y/n.” She mumbled, brushing her legs over your arms. Her touch was gentle and patient, making you close your hands into fists to avoid pulling her by the ankles and taking her right in the mixing table. “And I just wanted to check if you wanted to have fun.”

“And it is unnie for you, dearest.” You reminded her, making the girl roll her eyes. She always made sure to forget to use honorifics when alone with you. “I am your producer, darling.” You added, pushing your chair a bit further and managing to keep some distance between the two of you. “So drop whatever plans you have and find someone else to toy with. I’m not falling for it, baby.”

No matter how desperately you wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless.

Your words made her irritated, with Karina’s angelic face furrowing into an angry pout, as it often did when people didn’t immediately indulge her wishes.

A Spoiled princess, indeed.

“Come on, drop that superior shit.” She rolled her eyes, laying on her elbows without a care about the number of electronics placed over the mixing table. The angle favored her costume, and her perfect breasts, just as intended. You gulped, trying hard not to stare, knowing you’d be doomed if you did.

It was nearly impossible, though. To not drop to your knees and immediately indulge to all her wishes. Karina had always had this sweet, dangerous nature: with light kisses and faked innocency, she toyed with people as she wanted, making them give her it all, which they’d always gladly do. How could they not? When she was so polite and attentive, making sure to pay attention to whatever shit they were saying as if it were the most interesting matter in the world.

You know her better than that, though. Better than to participate in her game, no matter how fucking hot she looked.

You’ve always been told it was hard to know what went through your mind, since your face was always blank and serious, almost disinterested. Taking advantage of that, you smiled back at the defiant girl in front of you, placing your arms in each of her sides, but careful not to touch her.

The anticipation drove her crazy, you knew that much as you felt her shiver under you.

Karina hated how, at the moment, she was the one who felt like the prey. Although it thrilled her to feel like she was not fully in control of the situation, it also irritated her for a bit. However, she knew she’d get what she wanted in the end, of course, so she didn’t mind playing with her food for a bit.

“What do you want, darling?” You repeated yourself, using the same indulgent tone you do when talking to her and the girls about their new songs.

Patient, sweet, and attentive, just like you were during work hours and outside of them.

“I wanted to know if you were going to have some fun, finally. But I see the years have made you as boring as the others. Come on, unnie! Don’t I look pretty?” She managed to recompose herself, returning your smile with a venomous one.

“I won’t pamper you. If that’s what you want, go to your little followers. They’d be more than happy to tell you lies.” Your face was so close to hers, yet your words stated the opposite of how you felt.

Truthfully, your cunt ached, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid Karina might hear.

That little prey-game aroused you just as much as it did to her. It was a euphoric feeling, one that blew out your pupils and made the blood run through your veins, giving you that good kind of rush. Only Karina could make you feel such emotions without even touching you.

She was fucking gorgeous, and you wanted every single inch of her for yourself.

“So I’m not beautiful tonight?” She batted her lashes, arms resting on her sides like a crystal princess. “I’ve tried my best to look pretty. I’ve always wanted to be Red for Halloween, after all.”

“Do you like to be a prey, Jimin?” You opened a teasing smile, no longer sustaining your uninterested persona. Your fingers teased her collarbone, making the girl drop her head back to appreciate the touch.

You were doomed. Likewise, you knew that the moment she entered the room.

“To be desired.” She corrected, hands comfortably on your arms like she’s been doing this forever. “Chased, even. It’s fun.” She faced you, suddenly serious. “Will we have fun, Y/n-nie?” Those innocent fucking doe eyes of hers, staring expectantly at you.

You sigh, pulling her onto your lap as you inhaled her sickening perfume. Dangerous and sweet, lingering on her skin. You’d soon make it disappear, leaving her whole body drenched in sweat.

Just as she planned for you to.

Grabbing her beautiful corset, you took your time untying the lace before finally looking at her delicate frame.

God, you were going to ruin her little body entirely, until she was writhing and yelling for you to stop. “One time, and one time only. Got it?” She nodded, seaming pleased enough with your answer.

She’d carve her way onto your brain nice and slow, no worries. So, for now, a one-night stand would suffice.

“Just this once.” She hid her face in the crook of your neck, giggling with delight to have her wishes granted.

You finally gave in to your carnal wishes and kissed her, hard and urgently. You’d let her win, just once.

Because it’s Halloween, and she is indeed the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

-

“H-harder, Y/n. Fuck!” Karina moaned loudly, nails scratching your back to the point where thick red lines adorned your whole back. “Deeper, now.”

Like a queen, she demanded, making you roll your eyes. Her face was all fucked out, her hair unraveled and sweaty from the pounding, and she was absolutely sure her hips, ass and thighs would be all bruised from the way you were gripping them, carving the strap onto her as you made Karina your own personal fucktoy.

“You’re sure too demanding for someone someone who was begging to be filled minutes ago.” You taunted, carving yourself into the girl even deeper. Her hands were interlocked on your neck and her legs did the same to your waist, trying to steady herself at the intensity. “You know how much of a whore you are, right? Going up all those floors by yourself with that fucking strap in your basket just so I could have free use of all your holes.”

“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes, gasping for air as your hands blocked her pulse point, down her neck. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”

You laughed at her brattiness: she’d never give up, truly. Removing your hands from her skin, you opened her thighs so the strap could reach deeper onto her sweet spot— which it clearly did, as Karina announced so herself. Her wetness was nearly drenching the whole table, making the sound of your thrusts even louder as you placed your fingers on her clit, not yet moving but applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Keep acting up and you won’t get to cum.” You told her, your free hand going up to pinch one of her voluptuous breasts. They were so bouncy and pretty, you just wanted to suck and mark them until there was not a visible inch of her milky skin that wasn’t covered in bruises.

Karina opened her dark eyes, being surprisingly gentle as her teeth scratched your lips. She sucked on your lower lip and, before you had any time to acknowledge, she bit it hard. You drew back, surprised, making her laugh.

“Oh, Y/n-nie,” She licked the blood from your lips, smiling at your reaction. With an unfazed gaze, the girl guided your wrist on her clit, urging you to play with it faster and even harder. She gave your cheek a little kiss, too, adding, “You’re damn cute when you think you’re the one in control.”

You hummed, deciding to focus on Karina’s pleasure instead of indulging the silly provocations she so adored to lead on. With that, you did as told, paying extra attention to her little hole as you returned to your pace, circling and toying with the blonde’s swollen sex until her body began to tremble and she collapsed under you, reaching her orgasm unannounced. You fucked her through it, allowing the dancer to gather her breath and enjoy the final hum of sensations.

Even completely flustered, Karina still looked gorgeous: her body all marked and bruised, a piece of art— your art, and her cunt wet and swollen, still all opened and ready for you.

“You look too pretty like this.” You breathed, verbalizing your thoughts before thinking straight, to which she let out a smile, extending her hand so you’d help her hop off the table.

“I know.” The girl playfully winked at you as her arms found your waist, embracing you in an spontaneous hug.

Of course, you should’ve guessed nothing Karina does is ever not carefully planned. In a second, you find yourself sitting on your chair and she was all over you, now taking her turn into marking her territory. Her mouth sucked and nibbled your clavicle until a line of hickeys are proudly shown, along with her scratches. You don’t mind, though. In fact, you love to have her using you as she wishes, her possessiveness heating up your core at each dirty thing she told you.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself, too, you know.” Although her tone is light, the murmur that follows is dense and drenched in possessiveness, “We’ll have to fix that, soon. No one can stare at my pretty toy like they currently do.”

“You wish, Karina.”

“I do, my love.” She licked her lips, groping your body like a woman starved. “Now lay down for me, will you? I’m quite hungry, and I need a taste of you.”

You scoffed at her words and the excessive sweetness in her tone, but as always, did as told.

Just for tonight, you reminded yourself. You’d relent to her wishes just for tonight. And only because it was Halloween, and you were working hard. You deserved a treat.

[weasleykisses]

Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)

A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.

18+ Version Here

Word count: 6.2k

You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading. 

“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all. 

You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”

“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?

You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of. 

You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?

Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”

He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. ���No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing. 

Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.

He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut. 

“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.

“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”

“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him. 

“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.

“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”  

“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.

“Anyway, what would I have to do?”

Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”

“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.

Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal. 

“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.

Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though. 

“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”

“Okay.”

He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted. 

“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. 

If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.

Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.

You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little. 

But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.

______

The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him. 

The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics. 

In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily. 

You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else. 

You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous. 

Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.

He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.

He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”. 

“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.

The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air. 

“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you. 

“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning. 

He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did. 

“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed. 

“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think. 

Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process. 

“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.

And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be. 

It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.

There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.

You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.

You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air. 

You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”

“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you.  He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.

 But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.

“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him. 

James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment. 

In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted. 

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”

He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.

It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.

He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.

He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.

Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.

“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next. 

He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in. 

You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”

Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears. 

“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”

And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face. 

You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right. 

Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime. 

Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.

______

You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish. 

Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober. 

“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair. 

It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different. 

You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more. 

He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.

He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.

He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.

But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.

Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.

He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.

You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”

You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him. 

You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush. 

You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”

And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic. 

Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown. 

“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.

James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded. 

As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world. 

Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way. 

“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door. 

You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it. 

“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus. 

He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway. 

You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart. 

You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his. 

“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind. 

“I love you.”

You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet. 

“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”

He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”

“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”

“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”

“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise. 

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again. 

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”

“James knew how you felt about me?”

“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”

“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”

You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.

“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

[fushipurro]

Comforting Presence

☆ Synopsis: You're having a bad day, but luckily you have Sukuna there to help.

☆ Content: soft!sukuna, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

☆ Notes: had a lot on my mind and couldn't sleep so i wrote this up really fast to put me at ease. hopefully it brings you all comfort as well <3

You awake to a familiar, delicious scent that overwhelms your senses all at once.

Momentarily you’re confused ─ disoriented from your nap. Sukuna shouldn’t be home from work yet, you had only shut your eyes a few minutes ago. You thought so at least, but judging by the darkened state of your bedroom, that early afternoon nap became more than just that.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, stretching out of the bed and onto your feet. The smell calls to you, and you aimlessly follow it to its source.

In the kitchen, you spot Sukuna with his back turned to you, a utensil in hand over the hot stove top. You step closer without another thought, snaking your arms around to his front and pressing your cheek to his back.

He laughs quietly, with that husky tone that never fails to raise goosebumps across your skin. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets, continuing to cook while you continue clinging to him.

“When did you get home?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep.

He hums, “Around an hour ago. I thought it was a little too quiet around here until I found your drooling face.” You can hear the smirk between his words.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I was going to, but then I remembered how grumpy you get when you’re disturbed.”

“Am not,” you argue, flaring your cheeks as you pout.

Sukuna laughs again, and you know in your heart he’s right. He’s always found amusement in comparing you to a hibernating bear when you’re sleeping, but this is also the same man that revels in danger wherever.

“I also know you only nap when you’re sick or something’s upsetting you, and you’re definitely not sick,” he adds while turning the knob to shut the stove off. “So, what’s wrong?”

You tense, caught off guard by how well he’s read the situation from something as simple as a nap ─ something everyone does. It shouldn’t surprise you though; he’s always been good at it, and only got better once you started living together full-time.

“…had a bad day.” You tighten your arms slightly, pushing your face deeper against his body. It’s a reminder that he’s really here, that all of this is real. “I missed you.”

The palm of his hand settles over the both of yours, fingers mingling to hold yours, his thumb smoothing shapes across your skin.

“Had I known, I would’ve come home sooner, but someone must not be checking their phone.”

“Sorry…” you say, sounding defeated as you do. You know he’s only teasing, but the thought of ignoring him ─ even if it was an accident ─ bothers you greatly.

Sukuna may display faux annoyance at your calls, but he’s always said that if you need him, call him. He could never truly be mad at you, but after the day you had, and being tired and hungry on top of it all, your emotions are a dangerous tide to swim with.

He sighs, breaking away from your grasp only to turn and face you properly. His hand still holds one of yours, the other landing against your face. It’s only natural that you angle yourself to seek his touch.

“Go sit up, and I’ll bring you your plate,” he says, leaning down until his lips meet yours with a ginger touch, atypical from his usual roughness.

You nod, stepping away to do as he asked, and a minute later he comes in with dishes for you and him. As he gets comfortable in his seat, he pulls your chair closer with his foot after deciding you’re too far from his side.

“After we eat, you’re going to tell me what’s on your mind.” Sukuna uses a stern tone to address you, and while it makes you want to shrink, or deflect that you’re fine and a bad day was all it was, but then you remember that this is Sukuna.

He loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often as he should. You know more than anyone that he would let the world burn, watching with popcorn in his hand if only for you. You have always trusted him more than yourself at times. He knows you well enough after all, and just how to make you smile when all you’re able to do is drown in yourself. Just like how he knew from a simple nap that making you one of your favorite comfort meals would be exactly what you needed.

It's thanks to Sukuna that you never have to suffer again on your own. He’s all you’ve ever needed to feel better about life, and you love him with all of yours and the next ones combined.

“Now eat before it gets cold, brat.” He smiles, and you can feel your troubles already beginning to slip away with the tide.

You’ll get through this with Sukuna here at your side.

[sky-is-the-limit]

P:Stalker!Gaz x Baker!Reader

TW: well, stalking, I guess?

PART 2

You don’t notice when he slips into the bakery, the bell above the door silent in the early morning. He’s only looking for a place to charge his phone after an early run, nothing more.

But there you are, already inside and his heart stumbles, his breath catching for a moment as he watches you from the doorway. You’re dancing, softly singing along to an 80s song, completely unaware of his presence.

He should make his existence known. That’s the polite thing to do, right? He tells himself he doesn’t want to disturb you.

No need to interrupt when you’re lost in the moment, your body swaying so naturally, so effortlessly. Your hair catches the morning light filtering through the window and he thinks about how authentic it all feels.. How you’re not putting on a show, just being you.

He’s good at observing, trained to notice the small details. Usually, it’s enemy movements he watches, not for watching a woman alone in a bakery and yet, here he is, just standing there.

It’s not creepy, he reassures himself. He’s just.. observing.

A soldier who’s good at paying attention. It’s not like he’s going to stay here forever. You’ll become aware of it any second now, notice him standing there and it’ll be fine. He isn’t lurking, he’s just curious. What’s a few more moments of watching the way you move, the way your hips sway with the music?

The thought creeps into his brain.. What if you had turned around and seen him? Would you like what you saw? Would you have smiled, invited him to charge his phone inside, maybe even made him a cup of coffee?

Then, his mind starts to wander.. Imagining you, dropping to your knees in the quiet, early dawn. Your lips wrapping around him, that sweet voice of yours turned into soft moans as you took him deeper, warm and wet.

The thought sets his skin on fire and his hand flexes at his side as he visualises how you’d look up at him, your pretty eyes wide and eager, completely devoted to making him feel good.

He could practically hear the little gasps you’d make, the soft sounds of your mouth working over him. It’s filthy and he knows it but it doesn’t feel wrong. Not to him. What you don’t know won’t hurt you..

His phone stays in his pocket. He should leave.

When he finally does slip back out, unnoticed, he glances at the hours posted outside. He makes a mental note. As he goes about the rest of his day, your image stays with him.

He’s thinking about the way you looked under the soft bakery lights, like an angel amidst the chaos that is his life and before he knows it, he's back at closing time. His baseball cap is pulled low as he leans against the wall across the street, waiting. You wouldn’t even know he’s there.

Kyle Garrick's not a stalker, he just wants to see you again. There’s no harm in that, right?

[zorosdimples]

BETWEEN YOU AND ME (AND THE SEA)

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ suggestive content (this takes place after sex). slight angst that ends in sweet comfort. brief descriptions of violence and wounds. love as religion/love as worship.

word count ༄ 911

notes ༄ this fic is just an insanely intense pillow talk session with my favorite man (i don’t know how to be normal). it’s brimming with love. please enjoy!

p.s. i use the word “bokken” to denote a wooden practice sword.

“i would die for you.”

your breath caresses zoro’s heaving chest, his tawny skin damp, glistening under the moon’s pearly glow. the air is still in the crow’s nest; the only sound to disturb the lulling midnight is the gentle lap of the wine-dark sea.

it takes the swordsman several moments to process your words, his mind still hazy from the events of your shared watch. one wide palm rests on the soft curve of your lower back while he absentmindedly strokes the arch of your neck.

“hm?” zoro belatedly rumbles, brows knit in confusion.

you raise your head to meet your lover’s steel gaze. the look in your eye—zoro knows it well. beneath the heady cloud of contentment is the crazed glint of worship, shining like a honed blade. it’s a look that both terrifies him in its depth and comforts him in its earnestness.

will he ever be worthy of your devotion?

“i’m not particularly brave or strong,” you start, a fingertip etching love into his flesh as you trace the jagged edges of the scar that slashes across his torso—the ghost of an injury that almost took him from you.

“but i would do anything for you, zo. i would die for you. and it should scare me, that i feel so deeply.” your finger stills, hovering above his heart, beat steadfast as the foamy tide. “but when it comes to you? i lose all my inhibitions. i would die for you in an instant.”

even in the dusky quiet, zoro’s hands are broad and warm as the sun. they are an extension of his weapons, instruments of death. yet he cradles your cheeks with devastating care as he pulls your face to his own. his jaw flexes resolutely as he grits out, “don’t say shit like that.”

“not saying it doesn’t make it any less true,” you murmur.

few things scare the swordsman; he knows death’s face, having brushed shoulders with the endless ether more times than he can count. when he dreams, he wades through a river of ichor as asura, violence incarnate.

but your vulnerability frightens him—how you lay your heart bare and expect nothing in return.

the way you live goes against everything zoro has ever known, against his basest instincts to keep his emotions close to his chest, to fight the burden of existence with blood in his maw, to survive at any cost.

(it’s a bitter january evening and snow flurries paint the eaves of the dojo white. zoro’s stomach growls, hunger gnawing at his intestines. his young, scrawny limbs ache with overuse. the room is frigid; his simple robe is not nearly enough to keep the color in his cheeks.

this dreaded overnight practice is punishment for pilfering onigiri from the kitchen several days prior. hunger is but a distraction for the weak. he must repent with grueling drills. but in the middle of an overhead swing, he loses feeling in his arms, the bokken clattering to his feet.

his sensei tsks in disappointment. “the way of the sword is absolute, roronoa. you eat and sleep and breathe by the blade. the second you lose focus—the moment you lose sight of what is important—you will cease to be a swordsman.”

tears of frustration prick the young boy’s eyes, but he holds his tongue, picking up the bokken without sound or complaint. he doesn’t realize that his palms are cracked and that the wooden hilt is stained sanguine. he continues training until dawn.)

zoro licks his chapped lips. his tongue is always loose when it’s just the two of you and the sea. “i’m not worth it.”

a frown pinches your features. adorable, he wants to say as you wrap your arms around his neck with a huff.

“what makes you think your life is worth any less than luffy’s? than chopper’s? than mine?”

zoro assesses you for a moment, feline eye unreadable. he measures his words with unusual care. “my role is to protect. it was—it is—my vow to luffy.”

threading your fingers through his mint tresses, you tug, concern rolling off of you in waves. “then who’s left to protect you, zo?”

his mind answers without hesitation: no one. (the little boy with the bloodstained bokken weeps.)

“let me protect you,” you entreat, lips brushing his, ardent as a prayer.

the fates, in their divine and impartial wisdom, must have made a grave mistake: spinning the claret thread of your fate, meting it out, and mistakenly intertwining it with the swordsman’s. zoro is certain that it’s a miscarriage of justice—not that the gods have ever been preoccupied with fairness.

did he do something in a past life to deserve your reverence?

“i can’t,” he breathes. but his iron resolve is rusting, fissures compromising the once-gleaming surface.

“you can.”

zoro has never considered himself to be a good man. you are eager to give, and he wants nothing more than to receive. he drinks in your affection so greedily that he doesn’t notice how his lone eye burns when he claims your lips with his own, heartfelt i love yous exchanged between spit and tongue.

the tears are silent as they drip down his freckled cheek; you swipe each of them away with a thumb before dotting kisses across his salty flesh. zoro has half a mind to be embarrassed—swordsmen don’t cry.

but if there is one absolute truth in this cursed world, it’s this: his heart is safe with you and you alone.

[zara-renata]

Sylus's guide to hiring, or Wine time with Sylus: his POV | ao3

I think at this point this story may be hard to understand as a standalone and can be considered part of a series. Links to the previous installments can be found here.

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, Sylus's POV, second person POV

Synopsis: Sylus mulls over all the data he has managed to collect regarding his sweet little hunter so far, and spends some time considering mistakes he's made and his plans for the future. He also hires a new employee and is required to teach the twins to mind their manners in front of guests he's trying to intimidate.

This story contains: Sylus being a worshipful simp for mc and harboring definitively NSFW thoughts, the apprehension of a thief, an interrogation, an indecent proposal, a job offer, and one HR manager who gets goosebumps from being able to sense a disturbance in the social safety of Onychinus's workforce while not even being in the same building as the HR disaster waiting to happen.

Additional context: I've seen some theories floating around the fandom about Sylus and mc being children together in the lab where mc received the aether core, which i think would be amazing to explore and also would explain why Sylus has memories of mc when they first meet. However, I also got the sense from his little villain speech about "From your past to your future and all the crimes you have yet to commit," that Sylus knows mc from more than just memories as kids experimented on in the lab. So I've been writing him like he has memories of his own and mc's past or future lives. Hence his little rumination at the beginning of this story. It's maybe lazy romance writing but I hope it's enjoyable anyway.

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Sylus may rarely have good luck, but he would much rather have consistent bad luck than a skill issue.

He may not be able to control the luck that fate has given him, but the same cannot be said about the skills he has spent his entire life honing in order to render luck and fate irrelevant. As a result, it has been quite a long time since one of his skillfully laid plans has ended up with such a ridiculous outcome instead of unadulterated success.

But he’s learning that he shouldn’t be surprised by how often he is surprised when it comes to you. In fact, he’s irritated with himself that he didn’t learn that lesson after just the first three days he had you at his mercy when you first dangled yourself as bait for him and came plunging back into his life.

He recalls your fury, clenched teeth and clenched fists, as he crushed your hand in his, over and over. You couldn’t have possibly known, the way you were looking at him like a mere, terrifying stranger, how the faint, pitiful resonance between you flayed open his chest, exposing a heart he had long thought invincible, if only for the fact that he had thought it long dead. And along with the pain, came the fury. The dead should stay dead, and enjoy the only gift of the dead—freedom from the kind of despair he felt as you closed your eyes and refused him, again and again, the hate and terror clear in them when you would open them again. Yes, he recalls how you closed your eyes and refused to let your tears of terror fall, how you spit insults and sneered in his face despite that terror. He recalls how you took every sliver of opportunity to make a run for it each time he let go of you and dropped you back onto your knees—even though you knew it was doomed, but trying anyway, only to be dragged back by his evol every single time.

Your determination in the face of fear, your spite and defiance. None of these things surprised him, because these were all parts of the you he knew and remembered, parts carved under his skin with the same permanence and cruelty you used to carve your knives into anyone who stood against you.

He vividly remembers your rage, your cold ruthlessness, your indomitable will—the determination to survive anything, and if you somehow, inconceivably failed, despite all of your strength and intricate plans, you’d drag everyone in your reach down with you out of pure spite. Despite, and because of your razor edges, during your ‘first’ meeting—as you were kneeling at his feet, as he was relishing in the fury of your misplaced hatred towards him as he drew out your darkest wishes from the deepest parts of you—he was prepared to love you again, in all of your cruel, malicious glory.

However, he should have known that this version of you is not exactly the same as those he has been carrying with him long before you learned his name in this life. He should have learned it from that very first day that he finally had you under his watchful eyes again. When you tried to run from him, instead of trying to kill him. And there is no doubt, you did want to kill him—he saw that clearly with his aether core, and in every furious line of your beautiful body. But you resisted that urge, despite everything in you whispering through your being to devour him, to consume him, to feed yourself with the satisfaction of revenge and with all the strength he has to offer, and then discard his carcass.

But no. You had only tried to escape.

He should have learned it after the third day, when you refused to pull the trigger, and he had to do it for you.

He should have learned it when the twins woke you up, and they walked away unscathed. You hadn’t even tried to punish them for being accomplices to your long days of suffering and fear at Sylus’s hands. He had ordered them to use whatever force was necessary in order to protect themselves against any retribution from you, short of actually killing you. But you didn’t try to hurt them at all—you simply, and cleverly, he thinks with pride, arranged to be released  from the room in which you were being held with no confrontation at all.

He lifts you in his mind’s eye and, like the consummate judge of fine jewellery that he is, examines all the facets that he has managed to collect about you, in an attempt to truly see the whole of your magnificence, in this life—this version of you, without the layers of his expectations and memories that you don’t share obscuring the make and quality of the diamond that comprises the you in this life.

Yes, he sees the overlap between the other versions of you and the you of here and now, but there are such significant changes that learning you all over again could take another lifetime—one he’s already eager to dedicate to learning you, because from all the other previous versions of you through to the one who woke up in his arms the other morning, he can already tell that the core of you remains the same. Yes, he loves you not only because you are you and Sylus is Sylus, and he refuses to conceive of a world with one but not the other. But he loves you because of who are you, in every lifetime. Strong. Stubborn. Smart. A survivor. And soft, so deliciously soft, but only for him. And he’s going to make sure that you stay that way, despite all of the experiences of this life that have dented your armor and seem to have made you turn your innate razor edge inward, instead of against those actually responsible for the suffering you’ve been forced to undergo for so long, alone.

He had spent those many weeks purging his organization and cleaning up the shitshow that Sherman had left behind collecting the reports that Mephisto and the twins would bring him regarding the reckless way you would launch yourself into battle, often outmatched, and only just manage to emerge in one piece. All to protect, what—he snorts—clueless tourists? He has never seen a version of you that is so… selfless. Through hacked security footage and Mephisto’s eyes, he has since watched you suppress the reflexive urge to inflict pain on others when you’re in pain yourself. He’s watched you come to the aid of not only the elderly and children—those who society has deemed should be treated with the utmost care—but also ordinary people, idiots and criminals, ungrateful citizens who take it for granted that people like you risk their lives every day to protect people like them. And you help them with such patience that if it were anyone other than you, Sylus would probably feel a little nauseated and be convinced that it was just a show, some elaborate long-con. No one can be that consistently, disgustingly kind despite their worst urges.

But you are.

However, he has noticed that your selflessness goes beyond simply kindness towards others. He has watched you refuse to get medical aid when you clearly, desperately need it. He has watched you keep people at arms’ length, refusing to talk about what is happening to you emotionally. He has watched you go without sleep, and food, and breaks, through fight after fight. And he has watched you try to slap yourself, when you think that you’re having a stupid thought. He has watched you make a fist and hit yourself, hard, when you thought that he hadn’t actually been aching to wake up with you in his arms, lips along your skin, ever since he found you again.

It appears to Sylus like you’re still wielding the sharp blade of your will from all of his memories of you, but the difference now is that you’re holding it to your own neck instead of to the world’s.

He can accept that in this life, you are kind. And altruistic—although he gags a little thinking it. Everyone has flaws, and yours just happen to be of the sunshine and rainbows variety this time around. He will love you, not despite, but because these traits are all still you. His belligerent, funny, charming equal, in all things. But he will not accept that you continue to hurt yourself, instead of the people and institutions who don’t even deserve the honor of your blade, but have it coming to them anyway.

You may be holding your knife to your own throat instead of the world’s, but Sylus would destroy planets for you, and he has no qualms about doing everything absolutely necessary to destroy your impulse to hurt his favorite thing in this world, and any other.

However, he recognizes that such a challenge will require long-term, careful effort. He will need to spend more time plotting how to accomplish that goal. Currently, he has a more urgent matter that needs his attention.

Your inability to believe that he wants you. All of you. How can he help you overcome your cruelty to yourself if you’re convinced that he harbors a similar cruelty toward you? He is already certain that you want him, at least physically. He’d have to be blind not see how your eyes follow the movement of his hands, or remain fixated on his chest. As they should, considering how much effort he puts into maintaining his physical fitness, he sniffs. He has watched with pleasure as you swallow, and turn your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him when he catches your gaze lingering on his body. In any other circumstances he’d rest assured that he could keep your eyes on him with less effort—although why would he not put every effort possible into providing you with maximal viewing pleasure?—Except for some reason the universe has deemed it necessary to fill your life with uncommonly good-looking people in this life. Sylus’s face may serve as an invitation to most venues, but your primary care physician's, professional partner's, and even that strange dandy artist friend's faces are … conceivably handsome enough to possibly draw your attention away from where it should be. Which is on Sylus.

He sees now that how he went about giving you what you needed when he first met you may have had… unaccounted for, lasting consequences. He was thrilled with how quickly you seemed to come around from hating his guts and wanting to murder him, to allowing him into your space, into your home, into your bed, even. Every single one of his ruses, no matter how transparent, have been successful thus far in both allowing him to get close to you, and to force you to take care of yourself a little better, even if it’s only while he’s with you.

But he may have miscalculated in not considering every possible consequence of the cruelty with which he first treated you. He did not foresee that because he played your villain so well, you would be unable to overcome your distrust of his intentions in approaching you despite him essentially wearing a sign that could light up even the N109 zone's gloom that says “I want to make you mine in every sense of the word.” Sylus has always been a firm believer that talk is cheap, and he is not a cheap man. Actions speak far louder than words, and he is determined to show you through his actions that he will always put his money where his mouth is when it comes to you. And now that he’s thinking about his mouth…

He does have things he wants to do with you, besides caring for you and simply basking in the pleasure of being with you. Badly. But he was sloppy, by staying the night last time. All of his carefully laid plans require the height of self-control, but no matter his steel grip on himself when he’s awake, even he can’t control his deepest impulses when he’s asleep. In his dream, you had your arms around him, holding him tight, your lithe, strong body wrapped around him like a second skin, your warm, mouth-watering scent filling his lungs. He needed to taste you, devour you, swallow you whole. But he can tell that you do not trust him yet, and he hadn’t been planning to give in to his feral lust for you like he did that morning until he is assured that you will believe him when he says he not only wants your body, but every other piece of you.

He knows why he had the dream. How could he not have dreamt of you, after enduring the entire evening with his self control fraying like a poor quality garrote as he resisted the urge to put not just his hands but his mouth all over you?

If he’s honest with himself, and he always is, staying the night was not the only miscalculation he made the other night. First, bringing you his clothes. He had fully expected you to thank him in confusion for the bag of clothes and then toss them into your closet to eventually be forgotten under the pile of laundry that inevitably stacks up during the weeks you’re working so hard. He had not anticipated that you would obediently take the bag of clothes and immediately change into them. Looking up to finding you standing in front of him, his sweater engulfing your gorgeous frame, the little sleep shorts that he imagined hugging your delicious ass hidden under the sweater’s hem, your powerful legs and cute fucking feet bare for him—and his scent combined with yours wafting toward him from across the kitchen island. He barely controlled the urge to sweep every single fucking thing off the counter and drag you onto it, to make a meal of you instead of the charcuterie board he had been carefully arranging for your pleasure.

And the way you ate the food from said board… watching you eat has risen in the ranks of his favorite things about you, on par with seeing the look on your face when you’re mad at him and about to say something mean and the soft way you nuzzle into him when you’re fast asleep.

In all his life, through all the fine things he has been able to experience due to his ever-growing wealth, all of the world’s pleasures at his fingertips if he so much as snapped them, he never would have imagined that he’d ever find himself desperately wishing to be someone’s finger. Or a puff pastry. Or that fucking strawberry between your teeth, its juices sliding over your plush lip and down your chin. Lick him, eat him, chew him with your sharp teeth and swallow him, for fuck’s sake he wanted to fill your mouth and crawl inside your skin and never leave. He may pride himself on having the willpower of protocore reinforced steel but it was probably the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, standing there motionless, as you moaned your pleasure from the pastry, as your pink tongue ran along your skillful, honey-sticky fingers. Your wholehearted, singularly focused, carnal enjoyment of something so simple as a savory tart was hotter than anything he’s ever seen his life. He wanted to record it and set a projector on a running loop aimed at an altar in his bedroom for his own personal worship. But Sylus is greedy. He will not settle for the pale replication of a recorded memory of the other night. He wants to feed you every single meal you require to keep living, with his own hands, so he can watch your face as you savor its flavors, as what he provides you nourishes your gorgeous body. No, Sylus is a greedy man. Instead of a projector as a permanent fixture in his bedroom, he intends to install you instead.

He shifts on his seat, these memories affecting him in a way that threaten to make his trousers uncomfortable. He needs to refocus, now. He needs to solve the problem at hand, and not let himself get distracted with the future if he wants to make his vision of the future a reality.

Your selflessness, and frankly, lack of self-esteem—despite all evidence pointing to the fact that you’re effortlessly and wildly desirable to most people who meet you—is proving to be the biggest cock-blocker he could have conceived of at the outset of his campaign to make you his in every way.

He has successfully gotten you used to him touching you, and being in your home. You let him caress you, hold you while you sleep. But again, he’s a greedy man, and that’s not nearly enough for him. He runs his thumb along his chin, mind racing.

Now it’s time to take this game to the next level: how to take you on a date, without it causing you to slam down your defenses, or worse, having it backfire like the wine tasting? Ah yes, the wine tasting. He had been curious: would you drop your guard, if you were tipsy? What kind of drunk are you? Would he be able to tease truths out of you that you still keep hidden, despite his convoluted ploys to draw them out of you? In this respect, his plan was a success. He now knows that you don’t drop your guard even with wine coursing through you, and are prone to being even more skittish than when you’re sober. A possibility he hadn't considered, however, was that as you sipped from the wine glass with your soft, soft lips, filling your mouth with wine, he had to restrain himself from knocking it from your hand so that he could tongue his own mouthful directly between your lips, his hand on your throat, feeling you swallow everything he gave you. He had wanted to take and fill your mouth, drag you to him from your stool to his lap, run his hands down your sides, slip his fingers under his sweater on your body, dip them under the band of those silk shorts—

He has to stop thinking about this. He puts his head in his hands. He's going to lose his mind if he keeps thinking about this, and now is not the time or place.  

Instead, he forces himself to recall the discovery that the look on your face is hilarious when you’re accused of being an unsophisticated heathen when it comes to the finer things in life. Granted, he had wanted to ensure that he wouldn’t have to worry about you blowing your cover if you ever have to go undercover and are expected to be a wine connoisseur, but he knew that you only served him wine in a mug that read CUNT just to be petty and spiteful, and not because you weren’t aware that wine glasses exist.

He laughs softly at the thought. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mean to him. Shit, he's going to have the same trouser problem again if he keeps thinking about you being mean to him.

He hadn’t meant to stay the full night. He was a busy man, after all, and the night was his time to conduct business. But you were so warm against him, so lovely with your soft hair brushing across his skin, frowning a little as if you were having a bad dream. And he had also had some of that excellent wine, so although he wasn’t anywhere near tipsy, he was so relaxed and comfortable that the idea of leaving you alone in your bed was more excruciating than usual. And so he just… let himself drift off after confirming that this particular chain of casinos are indeed the one he will be purchasing next.

Only to have the best dream he can remember having in a long while, and waking up with his teeth in your sexy as fuck body. Just one taste was not enough, and you had the gall to ask him if he was satisfied. He knows that Xavier is your partner and your friend, and he knows that you need people like that in your life. But Sylus feels like he is entitled to a big fucking reward for suppressing his urge to eviscerate that little sleepy shit for interrupting the conversation Sylus clearly needed to have with you to clear up any ridiculous thought that you might have that Sylus would want to sink his teeth into anyone else but you, in any lifetime.

He clenches his fist and tries to reassert control over the frustration building at the thought of this ongoing misunderstanding.

“Uh, boss?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ... okay?”

Sylus comes back from the racing thoughts that he realizes he’s been having over the past few minutes, completely distracted from the current situation he finds himself in.

He’s lounging on a black leather booth, a low black-lacquered table stretching before him, an expansive one-way mirror stretching behind him. Kieran and Luke are both lounging on similar booths on either side of the closed black door, set in the crimson walls of one of the VIP lounges of one of the clubs Sylus owns. Amnesia. He snorts. If only he had been on the joke when he bought the place. But that’s neither here nor there. Suspended in front of him is a young woman. Hardly more than a girl, really, despite her best attempts to age herself through the skillful use of impeccable makeup.

She’s currently glaring at him, despite being wrapped in Sylus’s evol, which puts most other people into a state of catatonic terror. He likes her grit.

But it’s a testament to how distracted you’ve been making him lately that he has let his mind wander, even now, when he has business to attend to.

“Boss?” Kieran repeats, snapping his fingers.

“Is there a dog in here?” Sylus asks, examining his fingernails. He has been fastidious about keeping them trimmed short and smooth, ever since you nose-dived back into his life. Sylus is nothing if not prepared.

“Uh,” the twins look at each other, after looking around the room. “No?”

“No, there is not. Do I look like a dog to you, then?” Sylus asks, enjoying watching his henchmen start to shift uncomfortably when they finally catch on to this line of questioning.

“No, boss. Of course not!” they chorus in unison, as if Luke had also made the mistake at snapping his fingers at Sylus like an owner getting his pet’s attention.

“There will be consequences for displaying that level of disrespect to me in front of … our guest,” Sylus warns, and both young men’s shoulders slump. Sylus turns his attention back to the aforementioned guest.

She had been dragged in by the twins, kicking and shouting about suing them for assault and battery, abduction, and unlawful imprisonment. Her mascara had smudged a bit in the struggle, but her carefully braided hair and expensive looking, business professional pantsuit were still neat, and she looked beautifully put together. But she had fallen silent and her eyes had widened comically after the twins had dropped her into the middle of the room when she noticed Sylus sprawled across the couch at the back of the dimly lit space. She had immediately dropped to her knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For whatever I did, just, please don’t hurt me,” she had begged, her tear-filled voice filling the room.

Sylus stood and approached her.

“I’ll do anything, just let me go. Tell me what I did, I’ll never do it again,” she sniffled. “I have children, please think of my children!”

“Look at me.”

When she did, he realized just how young she was. Younger than Kieran and Luke, probably. Practically a baby. He let the aether core in his eye flare to life, the pain streaking through him, the pressure in his head growing, as always, but he could see.

After a timeless moment, he was done and she sagged a little. She dared to timidly peek up at him. He twitched a finger and she was immediately lifted into the air by the tendrils of his evol. He plopped back down on the couch. And then, seeing the person before him suspended by the dark force of his evol, he had gotten distracted, thinking about you the other night, held aloft by the same tendrils. How you had been prepared to hurt yourself trying to break down your door to get away from the perceived threat. About how you had thought that he would take advantage of your vulnerability and drink his fill of your bare body, once you realized the threat was actually him. He scowls—he has no interest in savoring the naked lines of your perfect body until you eagerly strip for his pleasure, of your own volition.

Damn it, he's getting distracted again.

“Hey! Put me the fuck down! How dare you treat a woman like this?” The girl demands, all pretense of pathetic fear evaporating.

“I’m a feminist,” he responds. “You get the same treatment as anyone else who steals my motorcycle and then plans to stab me with that syringe in your pocket once you've lured me within reach with this... little innocent act.” He considers her for a moment. “Really convincing acting though. Apart from the bit about kids. I doubt you’ve barely graduated high school.”

“Don’t be a dick, I could be a teen mom,” she scowls. “And that is a freaky fucking power, dude.”

“Freaky, but useful.” Sylus flicks his gaze to Kieran and Luke. “How’d she do it?”

“Quick hands, electrical skills, and some really slick hacking. It took us so long to catch her because her driving is almost as good as yours.”

Sylus looks back to the girl. “How old are you?”

A calculating look crosses her face, but disappears so quickly that if Sylus wasn’t so attuned to micro expressions to keep himself and his people alive, he would have missed it. “Old enough for you, big man. I’m legal,” she purrs. “I can show you just how illegal I can be though, if you let me go. You caught me, you can play with me—you have your bike back, no harm, no foul. We then go our separate ways.” She looks at him steadily, her tongue flicking out over her deep red lipstick.

There is a long moment of silence so deep in the room that Luke and Kieran’s raucous laughter lands in it like a whale being dropped into a pond from a great height.

“Oh man,” Luke gasps, holding onto Kieran’s shoulder for support as they’re both bent over from laughing so hard.

“You’re wildly mistaken if you think this is a deal boss would make,” Kieran tries to wipe his eye while maintaining the position of his mask, which makes Luke giggle louder.

“Totally barking up the wrong tree,” Luke manages.

“Unfortunately, we must inform you that our boss is currently taken,” Kieran finally gives up, and the tears just continue streaming down his neck into his collar.

“I mean, not that being taken would prevent a slimeball from accepting your offer, but he’s not a slimeball, and he’s also taken.” Luke pauses, still trying to catch his breath. “Well, he’s not actually taken, yet. Doesn’t that require like, an offer, and acceptance? I don’t think he’s even managed to offer yet, right?” Luke tilts his head, considering.

“Oh, that’s a good point, Luke. Our boss is currently nourishing a one-sided obsession.”

“Oooh, obsession, that’s a good word. I would have said a crush, but you’re totally right, ‘crush’ doesn’t really cover this whole…” Luke continues, waving a hand at Sylus, as if to highlight the whole sad mess the man finds himself in regarding his love interest.

“Have you even opened the thesaurus I got you a couple weeks ago?” Kieran asks, putting his hands on his hips. "How can you properly compete with me in Scrabble if you don't work on expanding your vocabulary?"

“We’ve been really busy!” Luke protests, managing to radiate a pout through his mask.

“True. We’ve been quite occupied with stalking a certain hunter…” Kieran mumbles, glancing back to Sylus, who has been pinching the bridge of his formidable nose during this entire exchange. He learned long ago that he should just let Luke and Kieran do their bits, or he’ll never hear the end of their whining about him interrupting their comedic genius.

“What the fuck is this circus?” the girl finally asks, a look of disgust on her face as she glances between Sylus and his henchmen.

“I believe my subordinates are trying to thank you for the kind offer, but are emphasizing that I’m more interested in your vehicle theft and driving skills than… anything else, you might be willing to offer in exchange for me not harvesting your organs for re-sale and dumping your weighted corpse off the docks for stealing my motorcycle tonight, and thereby complicating my plans with my partner.”

The girl's eyes widen, just a little.

"Now, don't make me repeat myself again: how old are you?"

She stares at him for a second, and then mumbles, "Twenty."

"Excellent. You're hired." Sylus leans back in his seat, checking his watch and pulling out his phone. He expected you here by now. "On a few conditions."

“So she passed the test?” Luke asks, straightening on the couch.

“What test?” the girl asks.

Kieran gestures to his the mask where his eye would be under it. “The freaky test. To see if you’re trustworthy or not. Despite all evidence clearly pointing to a definitive ‘no.’” His voice sounds uncertain as he turns to look at Sylus.

The girl scowls, trying to turn and glare at Kieran. “I’m so trustworthy,” she promises, trying her best to look earnest and not like the compulsive little liar Sylus knows her to be after looking deep into her soul.

Sylus lets her squirm for a few beats because it’s kind of fun to see the mercurial expressions flit across her calculating face. Not anywhere near as fun as watching your face, but still entertaining. “I know,” he finally says, satisfied that she’s marinated long enough in uncertain fear to not forget that feeling anytime soon.

“So you’re not gonna kill me?” She perks up. Sylus just sighs and shakes his head. “And you don’t wanna fuck me?”

“Ugh, no,” Sylus grimaces like he just bit into something foul. “Please never say anything remotely like that again.”

“Deal!” She grins. “You’re not my type anyway. I mean, you're old, and like, it's bad enough that I have to endure Yaoi hands in manga." She grimaces. "I like roleplay, and things that come in pairs a lot, lot more.” Somehow, she manages to twist while still in the evol’s hold and leers at the twins, who both freeze, both masks turned towards her somehow radiating fear.

Sylus glances down at his hands. You seem to like them well enough, so he's not worried about her opinion, even if he were the type to suffer from insecurity. They're just proportional to the rest of him. He tries to control his smirk, but the thought of the noise you made when he bit you, and how you squirmed against him as he was waking up, makes it really hard to control his face. He shakes his head. Business.  “If I’m going to employ you, I need to be able to trust that you will follow two rules.” Sylus intones, interrupting whatever predator-prey themed nature documentary is currently playing out in front of him.

The girl turns back to him, looking wary again.

“Are you listening?” he asks.

She nods, and suddenly looks her age. A little afraid. A little curious.

“Rule number one. Do not sexually harass your colleagues,” he gives her a stern look.

“Aww,” she sulks, but at his Look, she nods. “And rule number two?”

“I have someone very important to me that I may need to ask you to help. By being available as a driver, anytime, anywhere. The kind of driver that may need to steal conveniently parked vehicles, and to outrun my competitors who will have dangerous intentions. Or worse: law enforcement. And you are not allowed to reveal this person’s existence to anyone, or the importance of this person to me. No matter what you learn in the course of your duties, either about this person, or me, you will. Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut. Do you think you can accept these rules?”

She looks at Sylus thoughtfully. “What are you going to punish your men with for snapping their fingers at you like you were a dog?” she finally asks.

He gazes steadily back at her. “I’m going to tell our chef that there will be no cheese on the menu for a week.”

The girl smiles radiantly as Kieran and Luke squawk their protests: “That is a horrendously unjust punishment!” (Kieran) “What the fuck boss?! Not cool!” (Luke).

“Okay, I can do that. But that’s three.”

“Excuse me?” Sylus can hardly think over the noise the twins are making.

“That’s three rules, not two. I can’t hit on the cosplay twins, I have to drive your unrequited crush whenever, and I can’t talk about what you two do.. or don’t have going on.” She shrugs. “Three rules.”

Sylus sighs, letting his evol set her back on her sensible heels. Why does he seem to attract the most unruly of employees in the entirety of both Linkon City and the N109 zone?

She strides over to him and pumps his hand vigorously. “Name’s Noah. What’s the salary for this gig, anyway?”

Sylus accepts her handshake, his own engulfing her tiny one. He intends to make great use of her skilled hands when he isn’t available to make sure you have a getaway car when you’re in danger, or to simply chauffeur you around Linkon City on errands that he thinks are too far for you to walk. And finally, to bring you to him, in the N109 zone, on the nights you’re too tired for it to be safe to drive yourself.

You just don’t know it yet.

“You assume I’m paying you, when I have already generously let you walk out of here with all of the organs with which you entered?”

“Well, speaking of organs, a girl's got to eat. Do I get to come to your chef’s dinners? If they don’t get any cheese, can I still have some?” Noah asks, flicking her braids over her shoulder and jerking a thumb at the twins. They shine silkily under the soft lights of the room.

“Boss, no,” Kieran and Luke beg.

“Yes I’m paying you, no you’re not coming to the base for meals unless your job requires you to be there around normal dining hours.” Noah pouts a little at this. “Kieran, Luke, stick around with Noah for a little while downstairs." Noah perks up, but then deflates when he continues, "But do not let her drink. When I've collected my kitten, you can take her to get set up with Linda. For now, send in Aidan, and the wine distributor who is probably getting impatient waiting for our meeting.” Sylus checks his watch again. He expected you here at eleven, and it’s already a quarter past already.

“Who’s Linda?” Noah asks, trailing Kieran and Luke out of the room.

“Our Human Resources manager,” Kieran answers.

Noah makes an impressed sound. “You guys have an HR manager?”

“Yeah, for like the employment agreement and insurance and benefits and stuff,” Luke answers.

“What kind of shady criminal outfit has fucking benefits?”

“Not those kind of benefits!” Kieran gasps, scandalized.

"Not fucking benefits, Kieran, but like... expletive, and then the noun," Luke tries to correct his brother's misunderstanding.

"Ooh," Kieran says. "Hey, I didn't know you knew the word 'expletive.'"

"Yeah, so, maybe next time think twice before accusing me of not even opening your gift," Luke grumbles.

Noah looks assessingly between the two of them. "You guys are actually pretty sweet." Luke and Kieran look at each other, and then look back at her.

"May I ask you a question?" Kieran asks, after an awkward silence.

"Sure," she shrugs.

"Why are you dressed like a real estate agent in her forties?" Luke asks.

"Uh," Noah glances between them again. "Is this a party trick? Like, you act like one person all the time in front of other people?"

"Act?" Kieran asks. Luke just stares at her.

"Okay, whatever. Keep your secrets, you little weirdos," she says affectionately, as if she hasn't just met them. "And I dress like this because who are you more likely to finger in a lineup for grand theft auto? Karen from accounting or the ripped-leather goth-bitch from the wrong side of the Linkon City-N109 zone border?"

"Aah," both twins nod sagely, and the door closes on their chatter with a soft whoosh of air.

Sylus unlocks his phone, and prepares to text you. Not knowing where you are is making him uncomfortable. He decides that he's going to put Mephisto on permanent kitten duty, starting tomorrow.

Time to move to the next state of play: discovering how long it takes to convince a certain hunter that Sylus is sincerely all in, and not just hunting you for sport. Let the wooing games begin.

[lilacxquartz]

BLESSED WITH BLUE

angel satoru gojo x mortal fem!reader

part 2 of 2 • masterlist • ao3 link • << part 1

summary: after making an offering, you catch the attention of a six eyed angel who despite promising you the heavens, leads you into hell instead.

warnings: heavily implied dub/non-con, violent/disturbing imagery, body horror

Part 2: Answer

The next couple of days were met with a certain degree of reluctance and uncertainty combined as you couldn’t help but feel a crushing sense of guilt, wondering what the angel truly meant by ‘everything’.

Had you known what it could have entailed, you would have never prayed—you would have never even entertained the concept of love, knowing now that it would be taken away so soon.

You didn’t want to think that ‘everything’ could have been in a more literal sense; something that would force you to have a lacking say in your own existence in exchange for a taste of power.

It left you wondering more so if it was truly a blessing or if it was more of a curse.

And moments after tucking yourself into bed, you were awoken by an all too familiar presence making itself known within the confines of your very own home.

The angel reappeared; his eyes a glowing piercing blue with snowy lashes—a gaze as cold as ice.

No longer did it have a welcoming smile.

No longer did it seem as kind.

Its voice, coming out as nothing more than a threatening low droning hum, echoed throughout your body, “Remember what you have offered to me,” he spoke, the playfulness absent from his tone, “your life is mine now too.”

Somehow, these words didn’t really register properly in your mind and you looked back at him with a gnawing sense of disbelief. Your demeanour faltering for a second. You wanted for this strange deity to provide you with answers but every interaction left you with more questions than ever before, leaving you feeling confused after each and every single exchange.

“What…?” you simply asked, blurting out your words.

The angel smiled, painting an illusion of deceptive kindness across his face. His voice softened, as though trying to comfort you despite the words holding onto a sure threat, “You said everything, did you not? That should surely include both your heart and soul.”

“B-but,” you protested, tenting your knees as you backed up in bed, holding your pillow close to your chest, “I can’t even have a normal relationship?”

“Preferably not,” the angel cooed, “but if loneliness is what you’re dealing with, then I can pay you as many visits as you’d like at night.”

You didn’t like the implication of that.

“Y-you…?” you repeated his offer, “You… visit m-me…?”

“Correct,” he nodded with a tight smile, stepping closer ever so slightly forward, “it’s my job to look over humans, so let me be your everything too.”

The more you took in the sight of the angel, the more deceptive he truly seemed. Something about him screamed arrogant and even though he wasn’t playful this time, there was something unserious about the way he spoke to you.

Again, your mind had to wonder.

(Was this truly an angel?)

(Or did you pray to something else instead?)

“T-this is my only option?” you asked.

“Yes, but I’ll visit you however many times it takes,” he nodded.

The wording threw you off however, something about the way he said it and the terminology used, didn’t sit quite right with you.

‘However many times it takes.’

Until what?

~~~

The visits did indeed come to happen, he left you feeling a mixture of both wide awake as the nights had passed yet perfectly refreshed in the mornings as though nothing had happened.

Even though your energy didn’t seemingly suffer, something else within you began to drain instead.

You weren’t quite sure what, though.

Your mind spiralled as it considered the possibilities.

You were blessed, right? Not chosen. Could there have been a difference between the two?

And lying awake in your bed yet again, you anticipated the angel but weren’t quite in the mood due to a terrible feeling brewing inside of you. Your eyes, blinded by the approaching light snapped open; feeling the weight of such unimaginable power anchor right on top of you.

“Not toda—“ you began to protest, your words coming out as barely a whisper.

“—everything,” he shushed you instead, reminding you of your place within the dynamic. He was the an angel; a being close to a god and you were a mortal blessed by his touch. Silly you. You had no right to complain.

Yet the continuation felt awfully wrong.

Like something was happening that shouldn’t have been.

Just like the many sleepless nights before this one, he started by crashing his lips against your own. His touch like pillowed stone against fresh clay—his touch bordered articulate—precise and careful, just like those many times before. Your eyes once again drifted over to his roaming hands, blurring your vision whenever you’d look at them for too long.

“I know your limit,” he whispered to you, his cold breath rippling waves of shivers through you, “I can see it.”

It was as though his words were easing you into it every time. His voice was low and his tone felt hypnotic.

Slowly, as a result, you couldn’t help but grow more accepting of it even if you were unsure why.

Something internal that faded away as you slowly gave into his presences, into his continued touch and…!

(What was this feeling…?)

His touch continued to explore you; his hands brushed over your breasts underneath your clothes. Stony fingers that slipped in between your legs, guiding his digits towards your sex. A soft gasp escaping your lips as he ran tauntingly slow circles around your clit.

Next, he moved himself to hover you. His hardened length feeling just as rigid as the rest of him, if not even somehow more, hovered at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed the tip of his cock into your awaiting cunt, his length enveloped by your heat.

Slipping himself out and then plunging forth again and again—it felt like he was bruising you from the inside. His gradually quickening pace left you breathless yet somehow craving more despite the creeping exhaustion.

“My everything,” he’d mutter, his lips ghosting icy air against your own, his tongue wrestling yours. The experience felt almost jarring with how much attention you took in from a higher power, perhaps in a way that you shouldn’t. The angel continued to stalk his release regardless—appearing almost human—almost vulnerable as he pounded into you with want and need.

He grunted, though softly, as he worked his hips into yours. Despite this, your home only echoed back the sounds of your strained whining and almost relentless, breathless moaning. Your fingers clawing against the sheets—against his flesh—grabbing, almost as if desperately trying to hold onto your plummeting sanity as it somehow slipped away during your shared nights.

His rutting pursuit was by now deeper, his speed unforgiving. Your core felt as though it was going to be split apart by his plunging length. You felt exhaustion seep and settle while your insides soon felt pummelled and even sore as the angel reached an almost frenzied pace, seeking a violent release.

It was sudden as he finally met his end; his body finally spent. You felt as his cock twitched within your sex, emptying himself fully within your bruised core, leaving you a state of uncomfortable full of him and him alone.

As he relaxed and you recovered, the angel soothed you in your repeated panicked submission. His flesh that had since then merged with yours, rubbed raw against what felt like almost worn skin. His comforting touch smoothed goosebumps over you, leaving you once again feeling not quite chosen, but blessed with the essence of something else.

(Something worse?)

Whether or not it was power that he was giving you, it wasn’t something you could tell.

He soon left you in that now familiar dazed and almost high state—your hands drifting and slurring as you moved around in bed—phasing you in and out of your own fleeting consciousness.

And although the sensation faded and the skies lightened outside, for once, you were left feeling exhausted.

As though you couldn’t quite drop what the angel left behind this time.

You’d hands glowed a faint yet noticeable blue, trailing an aura behind as you moved them around in the air. Like seeping water that evaporated the second it lingered a little too long.

Whatever this was; a power, a blessing or something else.

You didn’t want it.

It hurt.

~~~

“Thou shall not lay in bed with the gods who masquerade as angels; lest you ascend.” — Ancient scriptures.

~~~

As if on clockwork, the angel would show up again and again as per the usual times. It was nighttime whenever it arrived with its heavy footsteps splintering the floorboards, icy fingertips that willed you awake, refusing to let you rest.

You couldn’t help but shudder whenever you jolted back into the conscious realm. The touch now feeling familiar, yet somehow so freshly invasive every time.

Something felt different this time though.

“Would you like to be more than just blessed?” he asked you, although the way he delivered his words felt more like a statement than an offering. The way he spoke reminding you more of how the demons spoke; so elusive and almost deceitful.

You couldn’t form a proper response this time either. Your words stifled by a pressuring change in the atmosphere. Something about his words felt once again less like a prompt.

(Maybe more like a threat?)

‘More than just blessed.’

Your mind locked onto the way he said that and he seemed to notice. His icy blue eyes settled into your own gaze in a way that felt looming, as though he was attempting to get a read on your soul rather than to catch onto your interpretation.

“Will it stop the pain?” you finally managed to ask.

Ever since the first time the pain had began to linger, was when you started to feel like something was clearly wrong. The aura that trailed in your hands never subsided, instead slowly enveloping the rest of your skin. The burning sensation that developed in your skin when the pain manifested had only gotten worse since then. It was as though your flesh was overcome with an invisible fire that crackled and whipped away at your skin.

It surely must have been in your head, though.

Yet, despite feeling the blistering pops and the flickers of bursting skin, of charring bone that crisped deep into the core of your very being.

You couldn’t help but feel that this was all too real.

As if something within you was changing and not in a good way.

Not at all.

All the angel did was continue to smile at you. His many eyes once again fluttering around his body, as though blinking in desperation in attempted warning. Yet, the two eyes on his face remained still and almost dormant.

Sitting you upright and allowed for you to lean into his frame, his lips forged a smile to help you ease into his offering.

“It will stop the pain,” he promised, “you’ll never feel anything again, my pretty mortal thing.”

“Then—“ you coughed out, your voice hostage in your throat under a chokehold.

“—it’ll stop the pain,” he continued to comfort you, his hand brushing down your back in a soothing manner, whispering out his final words so that you just about couldn’t fully hear, “and everything else.”

Just as he said that, the pain built up within your body, the blue aura almost barely contained the longer it festered within you.

“I’ll do it,” you replied, finally giving in.

He smiled once more, however as soon as you finalised his non-offer, all remaining warmth that he held onto had since swept away, almost instantly. The once thought to be imagined sensation of hellfire burning over your skin was now visible, with roaring, crackling flames that continued to eat away at your body.

His words of promised mercy hung in the air as you focused on him out of desperation, the eyes scattered on his body weeping along with yours as you surrendered towards deceitful ascension. Your body feeling as though it was almost crumbling against his rigid touch, all the while he stared at your succumbing form.

Slowly, the blue fire closed in on you fully; encasing you in a flaming cocoon that wrapped tight around your body, constricting you.

As the fire finally burned away at your last remaining shred of pain, you longed for it to finally be over, to finally be free.

Yet, when you next awoke in a surge of jolting panic, you found that despite trying to tear your body forward, despite trying to thrash and and sway around—that you couldn’t move a single inch. Even though the sensation of peace washed over your soul, you found yourself encased in the body of someone else, watching through a fleshy tomb as they walked around with your frightened gaze guiding their way.

“There, there,” you heard a familiar voice hush you, his voice vibrating against your very being, “allow me to introduce myself to you. I don’t believe I ever have. I am the six eyed god of the open sky. You may have heard of me as the fallen angel, the one who dared to mingle with the demons and with the humans alike. Turns out I have an appetite for an uncorrupted soul and you’re lucky enough to be a part of me forever.”

You wanted to reply to him, but you couldn’t.

“Now, why wouldn’t I grant this opportunity… as some would call it, to the followers of my own temple, you ask?” he laughed, “because to worship is already giving into corruption and I only respond to untainted desperation.”

You fluttered your eyes as much as you could, the sensation feeling nauseating as you couldn’t scream while entombed within his own flesh.

“You’re crying, aren’t you?” he mocked, “I saved you. A life free from pain, free from suffering. We’ll be together as one, forever united within your dreams… but only when you’re ready once more, only when you’ve finally given in.”

You attempted to scream over and over again.

Yet no sound could be heard as you were forced to watch from his appointed gaze as his adorned seventh and eighth eyes, decorating his body as a purposeful stare, condemned to experience a life that wasn’t yours together with a deity who lied to you.

Yet the six eyed god of the sky didn’t see it that way.

For at last, he finally caught onto something human.

So pure and uncorrupted.

To finally challenge the system with what defined the balance of existence; to finally redefine both pain and peace within this corrupted world.

Together, you’d see the truth.

Even if you’d suffer for eternity as a result instead.

~~~

part 1 of lilac’s bite sized yandere jjk nightmares

a/n: the idea i was going for was that you got tricked by not an angel, not even a god, but by something worse. it was a play on gojo’s technique rendering him into nothing more than a tool and the societal weight on his shoulders. the six eyes being a burden (with some creepy yan!angel elements).

[silent-stories]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝟑 𝐀.𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Hopper!Reader (adopted or not)

Summary: Your dad would never approve of your relationship with Eddie, so you sneak out for a night walk in the woods with him.

00.13 a.m

"Where are you going?" Eleven's voice reached your ears as you got out of your bed trying not to make the slightest noise that could disturb the silent night.

You turned around as your bare feet touched the wooden floor, and you found your little sister sitting on her bed looking at you quizzically and half asleep, her wavy hair falling over her eyes.

You sighed, staring at the window you'd intended to jump down that night, the moonlight was filtering through the glass and reflecting off the floor as you walked over to El's bed. "Can you keep a secret like a good sister?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Am I not a good sister?"

"What? No, of course you are, it's just that... Dad doesn't have to know, okay?" You explained, whispering and hoping that Hopper in the room next to yours was snoring loud enough to drown out your voices.

El nodded.

"I'm seeing a boy."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Is he the boy with pretty eyes you were talking about last week?"

You froze, either El was a very smart kid or you weren't paying attention at all when you were talking about Eddie with her. "Yeah...yeah he is."

"Why Hopper doesn't have to know?"

"Because when your dad is a cop and your boyfriend has already been arrested three times, family dinners might get a little awkward."

El nodded, thinking silently. "Why was he arrested?"

"The first time because he caught him selling dr..." You stopped, thinking that these weren't things El should have known, cursing the thousand questions he could every time in your mind. "It's not really important."

"He's not a bad guy, is he? Hopper says he only arrests bad guys."

A corner of your lips lifted at the thought of El worrying about you. "No. Absolutely not. A lot of people think he is but...he's not. He's sweet and...he cares about me."

A smile appeared on the girl's lips. "He's like Mike!"

"Like Mike?" You scoffed. "He's way better than Mike."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"But it's very important that you don't tell dad, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Good luck with the boy with pretty eyes."

You giggled, bringing a hand to ruffle her hair. "You are the best sister ever."

You pulled on the boots you'd left in the corner of the room and grabbed a jacket off a chair.

El waved to you as you slowly opened the window and sat on the edge, breathing in the fresh but not too cold air of the night.

You waved back to her and smiled before jumping out the window, your boots making a soft thud as they hit the wood of the porch.

You looked around for a moment, enjoying the silence of the night which wasn't really a silence, after all.

You could hear an owl in the distance, the croaking of frogs and the squealing of some of the small animals that lived in the woods. Two bats flew over you one after the other almost as if they were playing and you instinctively ducked so as not to collide with them.

You looked around, searching for the spot among the trees and bushes where the path that would take you to where Eddie told you you would meet started.

You breathed in the air that smelled of moss and wet grass. Then, after taking one last look at your house, you went into the woods.

00.39 a.m

When you saw him, his back was leaning against a big old looking tree, he was wearing a black shirt with a red flannel over it. As soon as he saw you a big smile appeared on his face as he walked towards you.

You'd always loved the way his face lit up whenever he saw you, as if just your presence made him happier.

It was night and probably someone would have been frightened to see a figure in the woods walking towards them, in the dark of the night illuminated only by the light of the moon, but not you, you would have recognized him even without the slightest light.

"Hey, princess. I almost thought your dad caught you." He said as he reached up to you and his lips met yours in a quick but soft kiss.

"Baby, you know I love you-"

"But?" His expression suddenly turned concerned.

"But you could have chosen a more recognizable place, I walked around this fucking wood for half an hour before I found you." You chuckled before pushing him back towards you, placing a hand behind his neck as your fingers tangled with his hair. "But you're worth it."

When your lips parted, Eddie looked at the tree he was leaning against some moments bofore. "But I described this tree to you perfectly!"

You rolled your eyes. "No, you told me it looked like Treebeard from the Lord of the Rings. And trust me, even though I've read it dozens of times it wasn't that easy to find."

He chuckled as he put his arm around your shoulders and started your night walk.

"Did you just say you've read The Lord of the Rings dozens of times?"

You huffed but raised an arm to intertwine your fingers with his. "That wasn't the point."

When you felt his fingers brushing your face, you turned your head towards his hand to leave a kiss on his knuckles.

A smirk was on his lips now. "I knew my girlfriend was a nerd."

1.26 a.m

"She has hair like yours, but her ears are pointed, because, you know, she's an elf. She's kind and always willing to help her companions but it's best not to make her mad because she's also a ruthless killer who won't hesitate to cut your insides to pieces if you do hurt her family." Eddie continued to tell you about his latest DnD campaign, describing the new characters in great detail, his arm still around your shoulders as you continued walking through the woods, following the path.

When you went out at night to meet him in the woods like that, sometimes you were afraid that you would get lost and that you would never be able to get out again, but then you always remembered that you had Eddie by your side and that if something like that happened he would turn him into a another one of your adventures.

"Her eyes the exact same shade as yours and-"

"Wait…did you base one of your characters on me?" You asked with a smirk.

"Maybe?" His uncertain tone let you know that the sincere answer would be yes.

"Well, what an honor, I wonder if-"

A sudden rustle coming from the bushes in front of you made you stop, your last words echoing in the silence of the woods.

"Did you hear that?" You asked, your voice reduced to a whisper.

"Yeah." Eddie's arm was softly pushing you behind him, as if to protect you from some possible danger but you stopped him and stayed beside him even after his glare.

"What if it's a wolf?" You asked as you continued to stare at the bushes moving.

"There are no wolves in Indiana."

"How do you know?"

"I've never seen one."

"Yes, because they usually hide behind bushes like that one."

When the snout of a weird animal popped up in the branches, your grip on Eddie's arm loosened.

"Oh, it doesn't look like a wolf."

A raccoon scrurred towards you, sniffing the ground probably looking for something to eat.

"Hey Buddy!" Eddie exclaimed as if he was saying hi to an old friend.

You brought your arms to your sides. "What? Do you know the raccoon?"

"I think it's the same one who's always hanging around the trailer area. Sometimes I leave him food." He explained with a smile on his lips as he knelt down and the raccoon approached him curiously.

"Eddie, it could carry some disease."

"Oh, shut up. Look how cute he is."

"All right, Snow White, go ahed. Don't come complaining to me when you have rabies." You commented as Eddie patted the raccoon's head like it was a puppy.

Eddie Munson.

The boy that people thought was a cult leader who worshiped the devil.

The boy who tried to hide his true feelings and his soft side to protect himself, creating an armor around himself, through which only those who really knew him could see.

Eddie Munson, who was called a "freak" by almost every single Hawkings resident, was kneeling in the mud to pet a raccoon, claiming he was "cute".

When he stood up, you instinctively pushed him towards you for a kiss, his lips were warm even if the night was cool.

He smiled. "What was this for?"

"Because you are so fucking pretty."

He scoffed. "Pretty? I'm not pr-"

He didn't have time to reply that your lips were on his again."Don't argue with me."

A kind of squeak, after a few minutes, made you separate.

Between your feet, walked four little raccoons, their black and white muzzles pointed at you, as if asking what the hell you were doing in the woods in the middle of the night.

"I think your raccoon is a mom."

Eddie chuckled when one of them tried to climb up your leg, falling after a few seconds.

"Who is Snow White now?"

"Oh, shut up."

2.00 a.m

"I don't wanna do that anymore." You said as you sat next to Eddie at the foot of one of the trees around Lover's Lake.

The moonlight reflected off the water surface creating an atmosphere of complete calm and the croaking of the frogs was all around you.

Eddie turned to you with a worried expression, you could almost see his anxiety suddenly rise and you cursed your choice of words.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No!" You exclaimed, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, absolutely not. I meant hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Going out at night, you know. I want to tell my father about us." You explained.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves and nearly drowned out Eddie's only word. "Oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. It sure will be for him though. I don't think he likes me very much." He added the last part with a not-quite-genuine chuckle, probably thinking back to all the times he'd been arrested before.

"Eddie, I love you. So he'll get over it."

He pulled you closer to him, until you sat between his legs, and planted a kiss on your head as you rested your back against his chest. "I love you too" He murmured. "But I'm not sure your family would approve."

"Oh, my sister already knows about us." You commented, saying it like it was nothing important, but waiting for his reaction.

"What?"

You raised your head slightly towards him, your nose brushed his cheek.

"She caught me sneaking out." You explained. "But she said she's happy for us."

Eddie let out what felt like a sigh of relief.

"Good, because I don't want the little girl with superpowers against me." He chuckled.

"I would protect you with my life." You were joking, even though what you were saying wasn't too far from reality.

He giggled when you dropped a few kisses on his neck, since you couldn't reach his face from your position.

"And what about your father?" he asked after a few moments.

"He's never even given you a fine. And trust me, he usually gives a lot of them. I think he kinda likes you already."

"But he put handcuffs on me once."

"And you ran away and kept them."

His laughter echoed through the trees as his chest vibrated against your back. "I did."

"No, but seriously." You added. "I wanna tell him. And if he doesn't approve, fuck him. I'm happy when I'm with you."

Eddie held you tighter, but, as always, careful not to hurt you, enjoying the last few moments together before you both have to go home.

"He's really gonna put me in jail, this time."

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'll post bail."

3.14 am

You knew something was wrong when you saw that the light in your room was on.

Getting in from the window, you found yourself in front of Hopper, sitting on your bed with his arms crossed over his chest and the most pissed expression ever.

"I swear I didn't say anything!" El exclaimed, sitting cross-legged on her bed. You knew from her almost desperate tone that she meant it.

"You are up early this morning, aren't you?" You asked with a half laugh, trying to defuse.

"There are two options." He said curtly pointing an accusing finger at you. "You're either a werewolf or you owe me an explanation."

You thought about it for a moment.

"I am a werewolf?"

Not even El could hold back a laugh.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Seven

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Nothing Explicit, Nudity, Language.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.1k

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The grand throne room of the Dreaming is shrouded in an atmosphere of unease. The usually calm and composed Morpheus sits on his intricately carved throne, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the marble in aggravation. His queen has vanished without a trace, and an uncharacteristic worry clouds his thoughts.

Lucienne, the loyal librarian, stands nearby, her face reflecting the same concern, and Matthew perches on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, his dark eyes flickering with anxiety.

“My lord, it has been two days,” Lucienne begins softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “We have searched every corner of the Dreaming. There is no sign of her.”

Morpheus’ usually serene blue eyes are stormy with frustration and fear. “She cannot simply have disappeared, Lucienne. We are bound together. There must be something we are missing.”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, shifting uneasily. “Boss, you don’t think it’s some kind of magic, do you? Someone messing with the Dreaming? Or worse, with her?”

Morpheus’ gaze hardens, and he looks down at Matthew, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought. “If she has been taken by magic, then the perpetrator will know the full extent of my wrath. But we must consider every possibility.”

Lucienne nods, stepping closer. “Perhaps we should review her last known whereabouts. Was there anything unusual in her behavior recently? Any disturbances in the Dreaming that could have indicated a threat?”

Morpheus’ mind races through the events of the past days. He has been preoccupied with the duties of the Dreaming, but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. “She mentioned feeling restless,” he admits. “She often spoke of her desire to walk in the Waking World.”

Matthew tilts his head. “Actually, boss, there was something. Just before she disappeared, she went to check out the Ocean of Dreams. There was a storm, and she thought something was wrong. She dove in to investigate.”

Morpheus’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and anger flashing across his face. “Why was I not informed of this sooner, Matthew?”

The raven flinches slightly, his feathers ruffling. “I’m sorry, boss. She told me to go get Lucienne, and by the time I got back, she was already gone and never came back up. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at the ocean after she disappeared.”

Lucienne looks thoughtful. “The Ocean of Dreams is a powerful and ancient part of your realm, my lord. If she went into it and encountered something unexpected...”

Morpheus stands abruptly, his robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. “Then she may be trapped within its depths or worse. I must go there myself.”

Lucienne nods. “I will continue searching the archives for any records of disturbances in the Ocean of Dreams. There may be something we’ve overlooked.”

Morpheus turns to Matthew. “You will gather the ravens. I want them scouring the Dreaming and the Waking World for any sign of her. Leave no stone unturned.”

Matthew nods, taking off to carry out his task. Lucienne bows and quickly departs for the library, her mind already racing through the possible texts she will need to consult. Left alone in the vast throne room, Morpheus lets out a slow breath. His connection with his queen, so strong and vibrant, is eerily silent. He cannot sense her anywhere, and that absence gnaws at him.

As he strides out of the throne room, determination etched into his features, he reaches out with his senses, feeling the vast expanse of the Dreaming. He will dive into the Ocean of Dreams himself if necessary. The thought of her being trapped, alone, fills him with a fear he rarely acknowledges.

With every step, he resolves to uncover the mystery of her disappearance, to bring her back to his side where she belongs. He will not rest until his queen is safe once more. Morpheus arrives at the shores of the Ocean of Dreams, the usually tranquil waters now churning with an undercurrent of unease. He stands at the edge, his eyes scanning the horizon, feeling the pull of the ocean's ancient magic. He will find her, no matter the cost.

Taking a deep breath, he wades into the water, letting its cold embrace wash over him. As he dives deeper, the currents grow stronger and more aggressive, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. He reaches out with his mind, seeking any trace of her presence, any clue that could lead him to her.

The depths of the Ocean of Dreams are vast and mysterious, but Morpheus is relentless. He will search every corner, face every danger, to bring his queen back. His love for her is deeper and more powerful than any magic, and he will not rest until she is safely in his arms once more.

Morpheus paces the floor of your shared chambers, the ethereal light casting long shadows across the room. His normally composed demeanor is shattered by the torment of not knowing where you are. He has scoured the Dreaming, reached into every nook and cranny of his realm, and found nothing. Even the Ocean of Dreams has turned up nothing! His thoughts race as he considers who could have caused your disappearance. His anger simmers beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

His mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, but none seem plausible. You are powerful, and the protections around the Dreaming are impenetrable. It would take formidable magic to whisk you away without a trace. He stops his pacing and runs a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a flicker of a memory—your wedding, the joy in your eyes, the warmth of your touch. He had asked you whatever you wished for, he would give you… you had told him that all you wished for, was him, and he had only fallen deeper in love with you.

He is about to turn to make another round of the room when a shimmering light appears, and you are suddenly standing in your shared bedchambers. You are naked as the day you were born with wide round eyes and shock plastered across your features. Morpheus should have been staring at the state you are in—love marks covering your body and evidence of lovemaking thoroughly coating your thighs—but memories flood his mind like a rampant tidal wave.

You wake with your face buried in a pillow smelling of marjoram and flowers. Feeling like your entire body is one big ache, you struggle to roll over onto your back and blow the hair out of your face. You blink a few times, making sure that you do, in fact, still have legs, before trying to roll to the edge of the bed. Son of a—

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself, feeling embarrassed that you are this sore from copious sex alone. Oneiros certainly has a healthy appetite for the indulgences of the flesh. You wouldn’t complain though, you haven’t seen that catastrophic glower of sadness and devastation upon his face in days. Job well done, you suppose. But you really need a bath... you glance down at your thighs and cringe. Your combined releases are smeared all over your discolored thighs, and when you stand up, you all but moan out loud when you feel it dripping from you.

“Bath, definitely need a bath,” you grimace, nearly waddling forward on what feels like newborn legs. Mustering up the strength, you take careful steps, teetering around on sore muscles. But as you make it to the center of the room, a flash of electricity runs along your skin, and your vision goes black. Floundering for a few seconds, you force yourself to remain calm until your vision returns moments later… but you are certainly not in the same place as you were a second ago.

Blinking away black dots, your eyes go round the moment you spot Morpheus standing not far from you, frozen where he stands. He looks disheveled and ill, paler than you have ever seen him. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved.

“Morpheus?” you question in a small voice, your voice cracking a little from soreness and the shock of the sudden change in surroundings. Morpheus remains still, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had thought he would never see you again, feared the worst had befallen you. The sight of you standing before him, albeit disheveled and confused, is like a caress to his tortured soul.

How many weeks has he spent looking for you after you disappeared from his bed into thin air? Endless. It was impossible to understand your sudden disappearance from Athens. He had wallowed in misery and despair, the absence of your presence weighing heavily on his heart until he ultimately moved on.

“αστέρι μου,” his voice is raw with emotion, his usual composure shattered in the wake of your sudden return. Your brain connects what is going on in his head. He is remembering you. His gaze drops to your body, and you shift as a flush crawls up your neck.

“In my defense, you seduced me first,” you softly mutter, not seeing the raging jealousy flashing through silver-blue eyes. You think, perhaps, that he would be angry at you for having sex with his past self, and he would certainly have every right to be so… but that is not what is running through his mind. All Morpheus can think about is how Oneiros has indulged in your body and repeatedly filled you with his seed. Jealousy rears its ugly head all the while the Endless can’t help but feel an intense lust for you. He wants to reclaim you from Oneiros. Right. Now.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Morpheus takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness. Then, in an instant, he is on you. His lips crash against yours in aggressive possession as a hand buries itself into your mussed hair. You can feel the intensity of his need in the way he kisses you, a mix of hunger and desperation that sends shivers down your spine.

You instinctively grab onto his shoulders, not quite expecting this aggressive onslaught but also not wanting to fight it. His kiss is raw, unfettered, a testament to the depth of his feelings. As your minds meld once more, you can feel the mixture of relief, desire, and possessiveness radiating from him in waves.

His hands move from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer. The hard lines of his muscular body press against you, reminding you of the intense passion the two of you have shared. The desperation in his kiss becomes more apparent and your own desire stirs within you. The realization dawns on you that he is trying to reclaim you from Oneiros. The clothes have to go.

“Clothes,” you barely manage to eke out between tongue-tying kisses that leave you feeling drunk. His lips never leave yours as Morpheus dissolves his clothing from his body and pulls you against his naked flesh. As he envelops your body in his strong embrace, your skin tingles with the sensation of his warm, bare skin against yours. His touch is electric, a mixture of tenderness and urgency that brings forth a whirlwind of emotions.

His hands roam over your curves, tracing every line, every contour, sending a storm of desire coursing through your veins. Each touch, each kiss, is a claim, a valid reaffirmation that you belong to him. The memory of Oneiros fades into oblivion as Morpheus' deep, silken voice whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"You are mine, and only mine," he growls, his eyes burning with possession and an intense desire to make you his own once again. It is a claim that reverberates through your very soul, leaving you breathless and completely under his control.

“For as long as you shall want me,” you return, raising your hands to cup his face. His eyes flare with intensity, fueled by the raw desire that courses through his body. He knows that his claim to you is unmistakable, yet he can't help but feel the reassurance in your words. “But I do have to ask…”

Morpheus’s eyes glow as he waits for you to air your question.

“Are you jealous?” You watch as his expression twists with a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and, yes, jealousy. It is an emotion he has kept well-hidden, but seeing it now, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"You think I would be jealous?" he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous.”

Well, shit.

Date Published: 6/12/24

Last Edit: 6/11/24

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[oishiyani]

🦐 ; Where Were You?

🦐 ; y/n’s presence never missed every single day! a text, a voice call, maybe even a visit. but then one morning.. boom! y/n vanished, not a single sign of life from them has got them shuffled in their minds! who knows could be what their reaction? (SCENARIOS)

— this is a fun little drabble while i had on my free time!! huehue, i swear ill make nikolai on the pt2 of this and along with another character in mind!

Sigma

Would end up trashing in fear in his body.

sigma's love for you is known to be only pure, he loves you whole and so do you. a routine where you'd keep him occupied with everything that's happened to you while he shoots you a bunch of questions of things he hadn't heard such about. the more you talked, the more curious he got.

the way you talk has him falling head over heels for you! that's the most special event in his daily life. the part where you'd find him and call so sweetly of his name out of your lips, your voice instantly makes him forget whatever's disturbing his head- soon relaxed when he recognizes your voice.

with this everyday routine with you is like a vitamin he has to take everyday, without it he may not function well. it's the most crucial part of his life- he can't miss a day without you. then one day, he did almost did miss a day.

usually you'd be calling out for him when he's really stuffed with the casino of his. a perfect timing for you to be his savior to come and comfort him, but after a few hours- he looked at the clock that was hanged on the wall.

'that’s strange.. y/n should be here at any moment now.. y/n's coming here soon right?'

and so, he waited. and waited. and waited. like a dog waiting for their owner to return home behind closed doors.

sigma begins to fidget without him realizing, one of his legs starts fiddling as both of his hands clasped together, his right index finger tapping up and down for who knows how long. and you still weren't here.

its been hours, he noticed. he spammed your phone number with a few text messages asking where are you, were you alright? were you not safe? the thought of you in danger increased his worries. could fyodor have captured you to use you against him?

he swallowed the developed lump in his throat, he had to search for you immediately. now was the time to take action. who knows what could’ve happen to you? he stands up and grabs the telephone by his desk- before he was about to dial, the sound of his main doors pushed open.

there you were, standing with a bunch of bags hanged on your arm. "hey, sorry i kind of arrived late! as you can see here i bought-"

"s-sigma?" you were cut by your sentence as you were took by a sudden surprise of sigma who dropped the telephone and approached you with his footsteps in a haste. he then hugged you tightly- wrapped in his arms, never wanting to let go of you. his head on your shoulder while his face hides at your sight. you almost fell behind and tumbled because of the unforeseen of event.

"where were you?" he asked, a sound of his voice cracked as he spoke. you hugged him back trying your best to tolerate how really tight his hug is, "i was out in the mall.. my phone happened to run out of battery so i couldn't message you. i'm sorry about that." you let out of a bashful giggle.

soon you felt slight coldness on the fabric you wore, your eyes dilated and grabbed sigma's forearms to push him slowly from you.

with his face in front of you. sigma's eyes were bottled up with tears, his nose a bit red. which looks like he's been holding in his emotions for a while. the tables have turned- now you were the one worried, confused, why was sigma crying? did you do something wrong?

"huh? did something happen? what's wrong?" sigma looked down, a sigh escaping his lips- his eyebrows furrowed. "you were gone for too long and i just got worried.. really that's all." his eyes shifted in another direction, a small pout on his lips formed after.

you also sighed in relief after thinking that something worse happened to him, "i'm sorry for that sigma.. next time i'll invite you to the mall with me. we could try one of those fancy restaurants i saw."

he sniffled, his index finger swiped the tear bubbling from the corner of his eye. "sure, i'd love to go." he then smiled. "i'm happy you're back."

sigma then felt something pressed on to his lips. it was.. a cookie?! his eyes lit of sparks. you pushed the cookie futher and sigma took immediate bite of it, "i also bought these cookies for you! do you like them?"

a faint pink shade of blush wave on his cheeks, "mhm."

Fyodor

Would come and fetch you immediately. and once found- it’s a must to return.

your presence being absent for a while doesn’t shaken fyodor himself. why? oh y/n, you lack the knowledge of fyodor’s tracking skills- an absoulute maniac at it! he could be watching you at every placed cctv camera by the city and you’re fully unaware of it.

fyodor fonds you quite alot- well for more than what you can think. he loves how you bring gifts for him on the way back, after he just watched you struggle to buy something for him. unable to choose between two goods situation. he smiles internally at how cute you look while deciding if he'd

with your loyalty to him, he surely should protect you from any harm that opposes you. that’s why he’s spectating you from the cameras y’know! it’s all for the sake of your safety after all. he even thought of placing cameras in your house, maybe if someone attempted to rob you then he’d save the day.

as soon as fyodor came back from his office- sitting on his chair, eyes stamped on the screen that displayed different corners of each street. in an insant his eyes hunt for you like a prey.

switching from cameras to cameras, he was unable to find you through it. he double checked again- maybe you’ll appear at any moment but no. you still weren’t there at the store you always went.

‘that’s strange..’ fyodor said as he gently rubbed his chin, thinking where have you might go. he only set off his eyes away from the screen for a minute and you’re gone that quickly? that was the least he expected since you take your time at browsing your items.

little did he know you stumbled upon this local cafe that just opened up! it was located at this small apartment that the owner set it up as their own business. you happen to saw a poster and an immediate urge drove into you as soon as you saw the cafe’s new release of a drink.

with that in mind, you went on your way to try it out. you open the door that supposedly says in the poster that this is where they’re located, a small, shady place for a cafe indeed. you were met by the sound of a small bell that clang on top when you opened the door. the aroma of coffee strikes you.

there were only a few people, really few.. like 3. the man who’s behind the counter greeted you a welcome. you came upfront and told him that you wanted to try their new drink. the man agreed, but as he went on to make it- the man seems like he couldn’t find himself to stop talking about you.

he continuously asked you multiple questions about yourself, what you do for living, how was living in the city, were you still studying, ‘till he abruptly asked if you were in a relationship with someone.

the first set of questions weren’t that bad, although they progressively became more personal. the conversation still about yourself- you ended up being uncomfortable as you sat and waited for your drink to be done.

“maybe we could exchange numbers.. if you ever don’t have one though! and we could go get some coff-“

“do you serve tea around here?” the familiar voice spoke. you quickly turned to your side and saw fyodor who was about to sit down beside you. “wait- fyodor?! what’re you doing here? i mean, when did you even get here?!”

“just now.” fyodor replied, his gaze on the man who was doing the finishing touches to your drink. the man who was behind the counter was also just as confused as you for the unexpected new customer. “tea sir? i’m afraid we don’t-“

“well, that’s unfortunate. i was hoping me and y/n would go here sometime.” fyodor replied. cutting the man’s words off. “y/n?” you looked to fyodor again, giving him a sign that he has your attention. he told you to bring out your phone and to wear your headphones for some reason, he then told you to listen to this orchestra piece he liked.

“just for a moment.” he told you, mouth close to your ear, then puts back the lifted half of the headphones on your ear. you watched him talk to the man, both of them having a conversation while you listened to melody in your ears. you then continued to sip your finished drink, ‘this is good.. and refreshing..’ the wave of relaxation was disturbed by a sudden slam that vibrated on the wooden counter.

you turned your gaze back to the two, lifting your headphones. the man’s face expression showed he was terrified, while fyodor was only giving the poor man a smirk. “get out before i call the police!” the man threatened. “wait- what happened?” yet again confused, you asked fyodor. he only stood up and stared at the man who’s legs began to shake.

“let’s go y/n. we surely don’t want to be in this place of a stench.” fyodor took his steps to the door turning the doorknob. you left your payment on the counter and catched up to fyodor on the way out of the apartment.

you were filled with questions for fyodor to answer, but the only answer you ever got was quite odd-

“i only gave him a little piece of advice, i wouldn’t want that cafe to be shut down completely.”

the next day, you were walking by the side of the streets. you found yourself in the same spot where the cafe you went was located. but this time, you took notice that there was a sign that said ‘THIS PLACE HAS BEEN SHUT DOWNED’