#They TECHNICALLY weren't his people anymore after all

[flickering-chandelier]

In Real Life

Pairing: Azriel x Real world! Reader

Summary: Reader's life in the real world is wearing down on her. So when she accidentally ends up in the world of ACOTAR and in Azriel's arms, she starts to wonder if she even needs to get home at all.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, light smut (I did NOT know where this one was going when I started 😂 😭)

Word count: 4.5k

The stress of the last few days eased significantly as you walked into the library that you knew better than the back of your hand, the one you had practically grown up in.

Your lips curled up into a small smile as you lightly traced your hands along the familiar spines of the books, taking in the atmosphere.

As a kid, your mom had often told you stories about how this library was magical. That it could take you to new places, places that wouldn't normally be within our reach in the real world.

Of course, now you knew that she was referring to the magic of books, how you could be whisked away somewhere entirely different without leaving your chair. Still though, you often thought about the stories she told when you came back here, about how reading near the old well out back could transport you into the book you were reading.

You had tried it countless times as a kid, and unsurprisingly, it had never worked.

Today, though, you were feeling just nostalgic enough and just stressed enough that you thought it couldn't hurt to give it a try, for old time's sake. Surely wherever you could end up would be better than here.

After skimming the shelves for a bit, you picked up the second installment of a fantasy series that you had started a few weeks prior. You couldn't deny that you were intrigued.

You checked out the book and took it out to the garden that very few people ever frequented, in your experience. It was completely empty today, so you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you settled in on the bench near the well, your back pressed up against its side.

The birds were chirping, the tree branches rustling lightly as you dove into the story, and pretty much immediately, you were hooked, thrilled by the characters and the setting.

“I would not mind taking a trip to Velaris,” you murmured, eyeing the well conspiratorially.

For a moment, nothing happened. But then the wind picked up suddenly, sending the pages of your book flying, the pages turning faster and faster, and you just watched, memorized.

It was a sensation you had never felt before. You truly couldn't avert your gaze to anything else.

Then the wind died as suddenly as it had started, and your trance was broken.

When you looked up, your breath was completely caught in your throat. You weren't in the library's garden anymore, that much was clear.

You staggered back against a wall as people bustled around you. Beyond them, you could see a river, and just beyond that were jagged mountains.

Surely, it couldn't be…

You tried your best to focus on the people in front of you, and when you did, you noticed the pointed ears, the elegance that everyone who passed you possessed.

Somewhat self consciously, you reached up to your own ears, only to find that they were now pointed as well. Were you technically one of the fae now?

It was completely impossible, and yet… It was the only explanation.

The well had taken you to Velaris.

You wandered the streets somewhat aimlessly, trying to take it all in, and yet hardly believing your eyes.

Before long, your eyes locked on a man with large black wings, the siphons strapped to his body glowing blue, shadows dancing around him.

Your heart thundered in your chest. Azriel.

It hadn't occurred to you until then that not only had you been taken to this place, but the characters were here, too.

It felt completely impossible to tear your eyes from him. He moved with an assurance you could never hope to achieve. It was breathtaking, really.

The breath was completely stolen from your throat when those gorgeous hazel eyes locked with yours.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, like he was trying to place you.

Azriel seemed to change his course, heading for you, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

He towered over you, his eyes assessing your face. You tried not to squirm as he asked, “Do I… know you?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Did he somehow recognize that you were the reader, that you knew him?

This was getting way more complicated than you had ever intended.

Finally, you just said, “I don't think so?”

His eyes narrowed, his shadows curling up towards his ear, most likely communicating with him. Informing him that you weren't completely telling the truth.

“Try again,” he said after a moment, his eyes not wavering from yours.

You sighed anxiously. “Okay, the truth is I don't know if you know me. But I do know you.”

He stared at you for another moment, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinized you. “You're not from here, are you?”

“No,” you said quietly.

As his eyes continued to pierce yours, you understood why he was the spymaster, why he was the one sent to get information out of people. He was foreboding as hell.

“You seem so familiar to me,” he murmured so quietly that you honestly weren't sure if he was even talking to you.

“I'm not sure if I can explain that,” you winced.

He looked at you quizzically, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“If I ask you to come with me, will you do it willingly?” He asked.

“The alternative being?”

The side of his mouth turned up into the slightest smile and your knees went slightly weak. “I sling you over my shoulder and force you to come with me.”

You honestly debated longer than you should have. Maybe you should have him carry you out of here, just for fun. Azriel was an intriguing and gorgeous character, after all.

But you also were a little afraid of pissing him off, especially since you had no idea how long you would be here or how to get home.

Decisions, decisions.

Fuck it. When else would you have the opportunity to flirt with a hot Illyrian?

Your lips curled up into a smile and you blinked up at him, fluttering your lashes a little. “I think I'll take option two.”

He just looked at you for a moment, but then he laughed quietly, his eyes lighting up and you felt so proud that it was you that made him look like that.

Shaking his head as if in disbelief, he carefully wrapped his arm around your waist… and then you were inside a house.

Damn it. You forgot about winnowing.

You arched your brow at him and he smirked at you. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the shadowsinger, you took in your surroundings and came to the conclusion that you must be in Rhysand’s town house.

You couldn't help but take a step back as Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre walked into the room, looking at you curiously.

Shit, they're intimidating in real life.

As their eyes seemed to scrutinize every inch of you, you took another step backward, running right into Azriel’s taut body.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist, but you didn't exactly feel comforted. This wasn't really what you had in mind. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Why did you bring her here?” Rhysand asked Azriel, his brow furrowing as he studied you.

“She seems… familiar,” Cassian said, his eyes lighting up slightly with recognition. “Have we threatened you before?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “No, not exactly.”

“That's why I brought her,” Azriel said, looking down at you. “There's something off about her, like she shouldn't be here.”

“Look,” you sighed, trying not to shrink back under the weight of so many powerful people. “I don't mean any harm. I'm here by accident.”

They looked between each other, like they were trying to decide if they believed you.

“Explain, then,” Rhysand said, in what must have been his high lord voice. “How did you get here?”

Your mind whirred, trying to find the words. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you…” but he would if he saw it.

You sighed. You weren't sure what the repercussions could be for you in the real world, but you were here for now, and this might be the only way for them to actually believe you.

“You can look,” you said quietly to Rhysand. “I can't explain it, but you can look.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he took a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Just look,” you clarified.

He smirked at you. “Smart girl.”

Then you felt the black talons at the edge of your mind, searching inside your head, and you showed him the library, the book, the well, and you showing up on the streets of Velaris.

Rhysand took a step back the moment he exited your mind, his eyes wide in surprise, his body tense.

He just stared at you as everyone watched him curiously, waiting for him to explain.

“I told you,” you said quietly.

Feyre’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly she received the message from Rhys.

“She's not from here,” Rhysand told Cassian and Azriel, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to stare at you like he was trying to make sense of it all. “I … think we should sit down.”

Despite everything, you couldn't help but laugh. You had stunned the high lord into silence.

The five of you sat around a large table, everyone's eyes fixed to your face now. You tried not to shrink back from it.

“A… book,” Azriel said slowly, his eyebrow raised in question.

You nodded slowly. “In my world, you're all fictional characters. And Velaris, Prythian, magic … all of it is fictional.”

Cassian let out a snort. “You expect us to believe that magic doesn't exist in your world, and yet you showed up here?”

You opened your mouth to retort back, but quickly clamped it shut. He had a point.

“And everyone is human?” Feyre asked somewhat skeptically.

You nodded.

“Sounds dull,” Rhysand mused.

“It can be,” you laughed. “That's why we read books about… you,” you gestured at them.

For what seemed like hours, you talked through it, what had happened at the well, details about your world that they wanted to know. They mused and debated for ages about how you could possibly get back home, but not coming up with any real answers.

It was getting late by then, and when you had yawned several times in a row, they seemed to take pity on you, and Azriel was given the duty to lead you to your room.

He leaned against the wall outside your room, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I think so,” you said cautiously. You hadn't really let yourself think about it yet, how you would get home, how long it would take. “Who knows, maybe I'll wake up at home,” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Azriel's mouth quirked up into the ghost of a smile. “That would be a shame,” he murmured.

Heat rushed instantly to your cheeks and his smile widened slightly as he cleared his throat. “If you need anything, I'm next door, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

His eyes held yours for another moment before he backed away, disappearing into his own room.

You did not, in fact, wake up at home, and you honestly couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

After raiding the armoire, you got dressed in a black tunic that was way more comfortable than the clothes you were used to, and wandered downstairs, where everyone was eating breakfast at the same table where Rhysand told everyone your story last night.

They looked up at you expectantly.

“Still here, huh?” Cassian asked, nodding to the seat in between him and Azriel.

“I guess so,” you said, gratefully sitting down at the table and piling food onto your plate.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you and you were suddenly glad that you were still here.

After a minute, they started conversing as if you weren't there at all, and it was surreal to find yourself a fly on the wall during a conversation from people you knew so well, yet were seeing in a completely new way.

Azriel's eyes met yours as breakfast came to a close. “So, in the stories that you were told, about the magic in the library, no one ever mentioned how to get back home?”

“No,” you said. “That part didn't seem important when the stories were just fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales,” he repeated, raising a brow.

You laughed. “Right. I'm literally in a fairy tale.”

He just looked at you for a moment, amused. “I can help you,” he said quietly. “If you want.”

“Help me?” You asked.

“Get home,” he clarified. “Or at least, I can help you look for answers.”

“You would do that?” You felt a swell of emotion in your chest that was nearly impossible to stomp down.

He nodded. “I have an idea.”

Your curiosity definitely peaked as you followed Azriel into a massive underground library, where the priestesses took their refuge.

“If we have the answers, they'll be here,” Azriel said softly over his shoulder.

You hung back slightly as he spoke quietly with the priestess at the front desk. It warmed your heart to see his demeanor change in the library: his voice was remarkably soft, his body language made him look almost gentle, rather than the merciless shadowsinger.

The priestesses brought you a few books and the two of you got settled in comfy chairs, reading in comfortable silence.

A few hours later though, you weren’t any closer to finding answers, and you found yourself more and more frustrated.

You sighed, resting your head on the back of your chair, shifting your gaze over to Azriel, who looked very focused on what he was reading. He was distracted enough that you allowed yourself the time to study him a little longer than you would have otherwise. Your gaze caught on his biceps, on the veins on his forearms, his hands holding the book in his lap.

He looked up at you when your breath caught, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Let’s take a break,” you sighed, blinking away the hearts in your eyes. “We’re not getting anywhere, and I want to see more of Velaris before I figure out how to get home anyway.”

“You want company?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I do.”

The streets weren’t as busy as they had been the previous day, and Azriel had more room for his wings, you noticed.

He turned to you as you watched him. “The wings can be tricky when it’s crowded,” he explained.

“Have you ever hit anybody accidentally?”

Red dusted his cheeks slightly and he looked away. “No comment.”

You threw your head back laughing, picturing the scene, and when you finally looked back at him, he was smiling at you in a way that made your heart race.

Azriel took you all over the city, but the artists’ quarter was what really took your breath away. You stopped at the edge of the Rainbow, taking in the scene before you, letting the beauty wash over you.

It was somewhat overwhelming as you walked through the quarter, Azriel’s shadow never far behind. Your attention was consistently being pulled from one side of the street to the other, and you heard Azriel laugh quietly behind you as you gasped and beelined to an artist weaving a gorgeous tapestry.

It was nearly two hours by the time the two of you made it out of the Rainbow, and your heart felt lighter than it had in months.

“That was amazing,” you beamed, and Azriel steered you away from a group of fae walking in the opposite direction with a hand on your waist. You hadn’t even noticed them in your excitement. “That was what I needed. That’s why I made the wish to the well in the first place.”

Azriel looked at you quizzically. “Things aren’t going well at home?”

You sighed. “It’s not that exactly. It’s just… exhausting. And life doesn’t look the way that I always thought that it would.”

He nodded, his shoulder bumping into yours momentarily as he worked to avoid running into some clearly inebriated fae. “I know the feeling.”

That shouldn’t have surprised you, you supposed, based on what you knew about him, but still. He seemed so in control all the time, it was difficult to believe that he had ever felt unsteady.

“Can we stop and get a drink?” you asked suddenly.

Azriel blinked in surprise, but agreed, leading you to a bar closeby.

You looked quizzically at the drink menu, unfamiliar with any of the offerings. “I don't know what any of this is,” you whispered to Azriel.

He laughed and ordered for you when the bartender came around.

As you looked around the bar, you subconsciously leaned into Azriel a bit, noticing that there were plenty of male fae eyes on you.

Azriel's hand found its way to your hip, pulling you in even closer to him. “It's okay, they won't bother you as long as I'm here,” he murmured against your ear.

His breath on your neck made you shiver, and you placed your hand over his arm where it rested on the bar. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

Your eyes met for a moment and you could have sworn that you saw some heat there, but then he blinked and it was gone as the bartender put your drinks in front of you.

Azriel watched you intently as you took a tentative sip of the mysterious cocktail, which immediately had you coughing and sputtering rather embarrassingly.

He laughed as he watched you, sliding the hand that rested on your waist up to your back. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing. “Did you purposely get me the worst thing on the menu?”

Azriel raised his eyebrows in amusement. “That's the most tame drink we have in Velaris.”

“It is not,” you countered. “I'm not exactly a lightweight, but this…” you scowled. “It tastes like lighter fluid.”

“I don't know what that is, but I promise that's the one that should be least likely to make you hurt in the morning.”

You sighed, and eventually worked up the nerve to take another sip. It was still awful, but since you were prepared for it, it went down a little easier.

“Nicely done,” Azriel said, and you could've sworn there was a hint of real pride in his voice.

The two of you talked nonsense as you got towards the bottom of your glass, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

There must have been something serious in that drink, because by the time you had finished it, you were feeling pleasantly buzzed.

You smiled at Azriel and he grinned back at you, tightening his grip just slightly. “Feeling good?” He asked.

You nodded, letting out a mortifying giggle and laying your head on his shoulder.

He surprised you when he laid his head gently on top of yours. You had half expected him to pull away from you.

This was crazy. You were drinking and flirting with Azriel in Velaris. Why did you want to go home again?

Azriel shifted slightly next to you, and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head before cuddling into you again. It was so gentle, so unexpected, you suddenly wanted to cry.

“Why do you think I seemed familiar to you?” You asked quietly, trying to calm your racing heart.

“I don't know,” he said. “Maybe I could sense you when you were reading the book?”

“Hmmm. Maybe,” you said, unable to resist running your hand lightly over his arm.

“Or maybe you were meant to end up here,” he said even quieter, like he was unsure if he should be saying it at all.

You detangled yourself from his arms to look up at him. “You think so?”

He smiled a little sadly. “Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part.”

It felt like a jolt of electricity rocked your body. “Azriel,” you murmured.

He gazed at you for another moment before he slowly leaned forward, kissing your lips with such gentleness that you could hardly believe it.

You could hardly believe any of this.

After a moment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth to him and he instantly took advantage, slipping his tongue against yours with a quiet groan, his hands weaving into your hair.

“Az,” you moaned quietly, “we should go home.”

He grunted, fishing money out of his pocket and slamming it on the table without breaking the kiss.

He stood up then, his eyes locked on yours and your hand cradled in his, and within the blink of an eye, you were standing in his bedroom at the town house.

You blinked, looking up at him in surprise. “God, I wish we could do that at home.”

Azriel chuckled, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you again.

You ran your hand down his chest, heat spiking through you as you felt each toned muscle tighten and flex at your touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled up in each other, until you started tugging at his shirt, desperately trying to raise it above his head.

He stopped your hands with his, breaking the kiss to look at you, his expression suddenly serious, his eyes softening. “Are you sure you want to go further? You were drinking --”

“Azriel,” you said firmly, and he blinked in surprise. “You are my biggest fictional crush, the man of my wildest fantasies, except now you're not fictional, and we're in your bedroom and …” you trailed off, your breath escaping you as he smirked at you, his eyes shining with a bit of wonder and no small amount of smugness. “Just -- please take your shirt off.”

He laughed and the deep rumble of it went straight between your legs. He stepped back, out of your reach, his eyes not wavering from yours as he tugged his shirt up and over his head.

Silently, he looked at you expectantly, still just out of arm's reach.

You were pretty sure you were actually drooling. His muscles… you had never seen a man look like that in real life before. His enormous wings stretched out behind him, and you never thought you would be the type of person who was into that kind of thing, but with him standing there like that -- it just made him look all the more formidable, untouchable.

But for right now, somehow, he was all yours.

You gulped audibly and his smirk only grew. “And… your pants.”

Without breaking eye contact, he let his pants drop to the ground, and you felt the air completely leave your lungs.

Holy shit.

His eyes softened, “We don't have to--”

“Stop saying that,” you breathed, rushing forward to kiss him.

“This feels a little unfair,” he mumbled against your mouth, sliding his hand down your fully clothed side.

“Then fix it,” you replied, occupied with running your hands down his back, kissing anywhere on his chest that you could reach.

He wasted no time, stripping you bare in a matter of moments.

Slowly, like he was trying to memorize you, he traced the lines and curves of your body with his scarred hands, his eyes tracking their path.

You had never felt like this before, so wanted, so important, and it made your heart ache.

He kissed lightly up your neck while his hands continued their exploration of you, murmuring with a low gravelly tone as he reached your ear, “the man of your wildest fantasies?”

You flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “Is that what I said?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, his lips still against your ear, his thumb lightly circling your nipple.

“Well,” you tried to form a coherent response, but it was impossible when he was touching you like that. You leaned your head back, giving him access to lick across your collarbone, your back arching.

“What happens in these fantasies of yours?” He asked, sliding his hands down to grip your ass, then effortlessly lifting you up into his arms, bringing the two of you face to face as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Mmm… about like this,” you said breathlessly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Yeah? What else?” he murmured between kisses.

You groaned, burying your face in his neck.

He chuckled, squeezing your ass teasingly. “Oh, c’mon, don't get shy on me now.”

Your cheeks heated, even though he couldn't see it.

“Something like… this?” He asked, lining himself up so his tip was teasing your entrance.

You gasped, raising your head to gawk at him.

“What?” He laughed.

“You're not gonna fit,” you blurted dumbly, immediately clamping your mouth shut in regret.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Trust me, I'll fit. I'll go slow. Unless you want to stop--”

Azriel pulled his hips back, leaving you aching. “No,” you cried.

Slowly, he brought his hips back to yours, gently teasing your clit with his length, a contrast to the sweet kiss he placed on your forehead.

He backed you up against the wall, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly, slowly, pushed himself into you inch by inch, giving you time to adjust with sweet kisses until he was fully inside you.

He was heaven.

And you couldn't get enough.

Hours later, exhausted and content, you laid in Azriel's bed, your head on his chest, sleepily tracing the lines of his tattoos.

“Tell me about your world,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair.

You hummed, trying to think of something that might interest him. Finally you settled on trying to describe transportation. Cars and planes fascinated him, and you felt bad that you weren't equipped to answer all his questions about how those things actually worked.

You told him about your house, your job, your life. He asked endless questions, and it warmed your heart that he cared at all.

Eventually, Azriel either ran out of questions or noticed how tired you were, and he stroked your hair gently until you fell into blissful sleep.

In the morning, you woke before Azriel did, and you watched him sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly now and then as he dreamed.

God, he was a dream.

You had no idea how to get home. In this moment, you weren't even sure you wanted to.

For now, you had Azriel and his friends looking out for you in the beautiful city of Velaris.

And for now, that was enough.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria @marina468 @hanuh @owala678

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter two:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: toxic mom, mentions of mental health issues.

➴ word count: 3.7k

💌 from me to you: thought of making this chapter 4k+ words long but then i felt bad for u guys so i made it shorter 🫂 hope u like it and thank u for reading!

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

THE AIRPORT was filled with people, as it always was, but you were so used to Los Angeles’ fast pace that it didn’t bother you. With your suitcase in your left hand and your purse in the other, you walked towards the check-in area, after trying to locate your flight to Toronto on the panels.

Strangely enough, there weren't any flights to Toronto at one two forty-eight p.m., which was the time on the ticket your mom had sent you. You frowned but let it go, thinking that maybe they had some technical issues and forgot to put the flight there.

After waiting in line for about fifteen minutes, one of the staff finally called you. “Passport, please,”

You nodded and handed him your passport, waiting for your boarding pass. When he gave it to you, after weighing your suitcase and putting a tag on it, you called him again, confused.

“Excuse me, sir,” He looked at you, waiting for you to keep going. “This boarding pass says the flight is to Vancouver.”

He raised his eyebrow. “So?”

You chuckled. “I’m going to Toronto, not Vancouver,” you tried to explain, returning the ticket. “There’s been a mistake.”

“Ma’am,” he started, voice sounding a little bit too annoyed to your liking. “Your name is on the list for the flight AC 472, to Vancouver, Canada. You’re Madison Carter, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but—”

“Maybe you bought the wrong ticket but I can assure you, ma’am, this plane is flying to Vancouver.”

You stared at him, wanting to shout that you weren’t the one who had bought the ticket, your mom did; and you didn’t even want to be in Canada in the first place because you’d much rather clean the airport’s floor with your own tongue than to go back to the life you had in Toronto.

But unfortunately the worker didn’t have anything to do with your shitty past, so you just nodded and wished him a good day. Next thing, you grabbed your phone and called failed your mom’s number, praying that she’d pick up and tell you that it was a mistake and that she bought the wrong ticket and—

“Jessica Carter.”

“It’s Madison,” you greeted, trying your hardest to stay collected. “Mom, the ticket you bought me is to Vancouver, not Toronto.”

She went silent for a while, and you frowned.

“Mom, the ticket—”

“Yes, Madison, I heard the first time you spoke,” she made a tsc sound with her tongue. “What’s the matter?”

“What— what do you mean, what’s the matter? Isn’t the dinner in Toronto?”

“No.”

You heart was beating so fast inside your chest and your hands were starting to feel sticky and cold. You looked around the place, people coming and going, while no one seemed to notice the turmoil happening inside of your chest.

“We’re having dinner in Vancouver, at the place I texted you. Didn’t you check it?” She sounded annoyed. And no, of course you hadn’t checked, you didn’t need to. You knew it was going to be another fancy ass restaurant with fancy ass people and small ass meals that tasted ten times less than the price you paid for them.

“But why?” Your voice trembled, and you coughed to cover it. “Aren’t you guys in Toronto?”

“Madison, everyday I pray to God that one day you will finally actually love your family,” she hissed, and your heart actually stop. Or at least that’s how you felt. “Your dad isn’t working with the Toronto hockey team anymore, he quit last year and it was all over the news. I know you don’t care about your family but you could at least pretend to. What if a reporter asked you questions about us? What do you think it’d look like with the press when your dad’s own daughter doesn’t care about her dad?”

You wanted to scream at her, turn the phone off, leave the airport and pick Bella up at the dog hotel she was staying in and take her home so you could both cuddle for the entire weekend. You wanted to tell her that no one in that family knew what the word love meant, no one even cared about it. And even if you had known love once, it was gone now, and all you could do is continue with your life.

“Get on that plane, Madison. I’ll see you at Hawksworth at seven p.m. tonight and you better not be late. Have a safe flight.” She said before hanging up on you.

You stared at your phone’s screen until it went completely black. Sometimes, you asked yourself why you still did what your mom wanted. You were twenty-two, you had your own job and your own money. You wouldn’t exaclt lose anything if you stopped talking to her.

But then, every time you thought about not doing what she asked you to, or even stopping talking to her, you felt like the worst daughter in the whole green world. You felt ungrateful, and a feeling that left your chest so hollow you couldn’t breathe.

So you kept walking behind her, stepping only where she asked you to.

Sighing, you went back to walking towards the security area. There wasn’t anything that could be done and honestly, you were too exhausted to even think of something.

So, Vancouver it is.

౨ৎ

THE TAXI smelled like fried peanuts making you scrunch your nose.

You looked through the window, looking at the city you’d been born in and how much it’s changed. As much as you hated to admit, Vancouver had always been extremely beautiful.

You were on your way to the restaurant, feeling like you’d lost a thousand battles. When you arrived at your hotel earlier they had mistaken you for someone else and put you in the worst bedroom ever. And if that wasn’t enough, you had to take a cold shower because the shower heater wasn't working and now you were shivering because it was March and Vancouver was still cold as hell.

“Miss?”

You turned your head around, facing the driver. He was making a funny face at you and you were just about to ask what was so funny when he pointed outside. You followed his finger and well, there it was. The Hawksworth restaurant your mom loved so much. Ignoring the tug on your chest, you thanked the man and got out of the car.

Thanking past you for choosing a warm dress and comfortable heels, you made your way inside the restaurant, politely greeting the people you saw on your way to the hostess.

“Good evening,” you said, smiling at the blonde girl in front of you. “Madison Carter.”

“Good evening, ma’am. They’re waiting for you in the private room. Do you need someone to take you there?” She crossed your name on some fancy sheet and you shook your head. You’ve been going to this place ever since you were a child. You knew it like the back of your hand.

After a quiet thank you, you resumed your walk, mentally preparing yourself for what this evening was going to be. Your mom making sure to control all of your doings, your dad only talking about himself and his work and Peter— hell, you didn’t even know if Peter would be here.

It’s not like your mom treated him the same way as she treated you anyway, so if he wanted to get away with not coming to this dinner, he would.

When you turned to the left so you could enter the private area, your body was shocked with something, making your purse drop from your hold.

With heels so tall, you almost lost your balance, just staying in place because a hand, gentle yet extremely firm you noticed, grabbed you by the waist and pushed you to the side.

“I’m so sorry, are you—”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, no matter how much it’d changed. Looking up, you stared into Quinn’s blue eyes and held your breath.

“Madison.”

He said your name like it had poison in it, and it hurt. You still remember the last time you saw him and his family back in 2017, with him taking care of you while you were sick. How you tried so hard to memorize his features because you knew seeing him again in person would be nothing but close to impossible.

And yet here he was, standing right in front of you, wearing a fancy suit and many, many inches taller than you. His curls were carefully styled, pushed back with only a strand of hair falling down his forehead.

He had a stubble decorating his chin and it fitted him so perfectly, making him look older and mature.

Quinn Hughes still looked like the man you fell in love with when you were fifteen. And you weren’t exactly sure what to do with this information.

“Quinn.” You whispered, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to speak without stuttering.

“Jesus, finally, Madison, we’ve been waiting for you for ten minutes,” your mom’s voice filled the space and you jumped back, removing yourself from Quinn’s grip and remembering that you were still in the hallway of a famous restaurant, with people coming and going. “I see that you and Quinn are happy to see each other again.”

You bend down to grab your purse, choosing not to look at him while your mom talks. You had already seen enough in his eyes.

You got up and followed your mom, your body highly aware that the man you hadn’t seen for seven years, your best friend, was just a few steps behind you.

When you got to your table, you tried your hardest not to gasp out loud. Because your mind was probably playing games with you and you weren’t seeing the Hughes sitting with your dad and brother—

“Maddie!” You heard Jack shouting, looking like he didn’t care that they were at a five star restaurant.

You let out a wet chuckle, feeling your eyes wet with unshod tears. There they were; Luke, Jack, Ellen, Jim and… well. Quinn.

“Oh my God,” Ellen got up, immediately reaching for you. “You’re so pretty. And so grown up too!”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” you smiled, squeezing her just as hard. “It’s so nice to see you.”

“You were always beautiful but,” she whistled, making you give her a little twirl. “Damn right.”

You giggled, feeling your chest a lot lighter. Despite being hurtful, this was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, Mr. Hughes,” you greeted Jim, kissing him lightly on the cheek, just to watch the blush adorne his face like you knew it would. “Luke and Jack. You guys are taller than me now.”

“Hey, Maddie,” Luke got up, hugging you quickly, like a teenage boy who had just seen his first woman. “You’re all grown up too.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Jack asked, patting the seat beside him. You gave your own family a brief nod before sitting down, placing your purse on the chair and smiling at Jack, ignoring the fact that Quinn was sitting in front of you.

“I moved to LA a few years ago,” you explained, noticing how they were all paying attention to you. As they had always done. “I’m working as a model now.”

“Baby, we know!” Ellen smiled, squeezing Jim’s arms. “When I saw you on VOGUE last year I thought, this girl looks a lot like Madison. And then I realized. That was you!”

You smiled, bringing your shoulders to your ears, cheeks red and all.

“What do you think of LA, honey?” Ellen asked, resting her chin on her hand.

“I love it there,” you smiled. “Los Angeles is so full of life and opportunities. Not to mention the fact that I ran into super famous people all the time,” you giggled, remembering that one time you ran into Jennifer Aniston while you were grocery shopping.

“You are famous now too, M,” Jack jokes, making you laugh. “Are people there nice to you?”

You stared at his blue, gorgeous eyes and smiled, frankly. They were worried about your well-being and it made your heart flutter. Not even your own family asked these questions.

“Yeah, Jackie, they are,” you nodded. “I really love it there.”

“Then we’re happy, honey.”

They moved on to another topic of how all of you are so grown now, and how well you were all doing in your careers. Your parents were mostly talking about Peter, and how proud they are because he’s in his last year of medical school, soon to be a resident in orthopedic surgery.

You didn’t mind the fact that they preferred to talk about Peter and his accomplishments over you, in fact, you actually preferred it this way. That way they would leave you and your choices alone, which was what you wanted. Besides, you could keep stealing glances from Quinn’s beautiful, comforting face here and there. Not that he was looking at you, or even talking your way.

You couldn’t exactly blame him. After he left for Michigan, your mom made sure you didn’t have time to grieve over him leaving, no. She was making sure you were on the cover of Fashion’s at the ripe age of sixteen.

And when you thought of reaching out first, you took a peep at his and his university’s Instagram. And he was always surrounded by beautiful, talented girls who were his age and seemed to know what they were doing. And you were just like the little, ugly duck, sixteen and naive.

So you never really contacted him or his family, for that matter. You knew your parents still kept in touch with the Hughes, but they never told you anything— and you didn’t ask. But Quinn couldn’t be too upset with you because he had never reached out to you either. So you were both pretty much even.

“What are you doing after we leave here?” Jack asked beside you, after swallowing down his food.

“Honestly?” You chuckled. “I’m gonna go back to my hotel and sleep. I’m tired.”

“No way,” he almost pouted. He liked twelve years old all over again. “You’re coming with us, we’re heading to a club after this, it’s our last night together with Huggy bear,” he pointed at Quinn, who was eyeing him weirdly. “And now, it’s our last night with you too.”

“You’re leaving already?” You frowned.

“We’ve been here for a few days now but it’s still the season. We need to head back to Newark soon.” Luke explained, and it all made sense. Sometimes you forget that they’re famous, talented hockey players.

“That’s great, hum—” your phone started ringing and you opened your purse to decline it, frowning when you saw Nicholas’ name flashing on the screen. He knew you were on your day off and he had never called you during days off before. So it was probably important. “Sorry, excuse me, it’s my boss.” You excused yourself before leaving the table and accepting the call.

“Madison?”

“Yeah, Nick, hi,” you walked out of the restaurant, wanting to be outside so you could hear him better, feeling the cold air hit your face immediately. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, no, nothing happened.”

“Then why are you calling me?” You giggled. “It’s my day off.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, the high pitch noise making you smile too. “I’m calling you because we fucking did it, baby!”

“Um. What did we do?”

He scoffed like he couldn’t believe you were even asking. “What do you mean, Madison Carter! We finally signed you to La Vie en Rose!”

You audibly gasped, trying your hardest not to start jumping around.

Despite the fact that you had worked with bigger retailers before, La Vie en Rose has always been one of your and Nicholas’ biggest dreams.

“You’re lucky I’m out right now because otherwise you’d be hearing my screams there in Los Angeles,” you laughed, feeling truly happy for the first time in a while. “How did it happen? Actually, no,” you interrupted yourself. “I don’t even care about what you did. This is huge! When do I start?”

“This is where it gets better.”

“Better than working with one of my favorite designers? Try me.”

“They asked if you had any preferences for places and since you’ve been here here in LA for four years now, I thought I’d do you a favor and get you closer to your family,” he said, excitement pouring down his words. “So I said that you could get signed with their Canadian headquarters and guess what? They said yes! So now you’ll have to move to Vancouver, of course, but think with me—”

You didn’t even care about the rest of the things he was saying. The high from before disappearing like candies during Halloween, your happiness being replaced by an ugly, horrid feeling that made your stomach hurt, all the food you’d just eaten trying to find its way back outside.

“Madison? Are you there?”

“Yes,” you gritted through your teeth, taking deep breaths. “Nicholas, I can't. I cannot be in Vancouver.”

“If you’re worried about moving and your apartment and Bella, don’t worry, they’ll cover it all—”

“I’m not worried about moving, I just can’t,” your voice cracks, so you take a moment to breathe again. “I can’t be in Vancouver.”

“Madison—”

“They have their headquarters in Paris. I can move there, it’s no issue, really.” You pleaded.

“You’d rather move to Paris than to be with your family in Canada?” He sounded surprised and confused at the same time and you bit your lip, remembering your mom’s words about the press and rumors. You trusted Nicholas and you knew he wasn’t going to tell anyone anything but in the world of fashion, words flew fast. “I’m not following.”

“Yes,” you confessed. “Can you do that?”

“No, I— I already signed the deal. I thought I was doing you a favor—”

“You didn’t do me any favor, Nicholas!” You didn’t realize you were speaking louder now, raising your arm. “I’m not fucking moving to Vancouver! Fuck.”

You ran your hand through your hair, feeling bad for lashing out on him, but just the thought of living close to your family and Quinn made you lose your mind.

Nicholas sighed, speaking after an entire minute. “Listen. I don’t know where this is coming from and I’d really like to help you if you need me. But this is your dream, Madison. Ever since I met you, when you were that sweet, little dove at eighteen, you’ve been talking about this. And you know how hard we worked for this.”

“Nicholas,” you called out and he shushed you.

“And I can’t do anything about this. I’m sorry, but this is above me. I made the wrong decision of signing it without talking to you first but you were out with your family and I didn’t want to bother you.” He sighed, staying silent for a while, as you looked straight ahead, not really seeing anyone, even though the street was busy. “If you say no, it’s… they’ll choose someone else. Madison, I need you to think about this.”

You could hear the entreaty in his voice and you felt so bad. He was right.

“You need to give me an answer by Monday. I’ve already told them you’d be thrilled to move but I can always take back what I said,” he murmured, and if you knew him well enough, you’d say he’s squeezing his cheeks between his fingers right now. “It’d only be for six months, baby. Think about it.”

You were silent for a while, before realizing he was probably waiting for an answer.

“Right,” you whispered. “Okay. I’ll call you later. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I know you were just doing what you thought was the best.”

“I’m so sorry, Mads. Totally thought I was doing you a favor.”

“It’s fine,” you answer, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see. “Bye.”

“Bye, Mads. Call me if you need anything.”

You hadn’t even turned your phone off completely before hearing a voice behind you.

“Troubles in paradise, huh?”

You turn around, facing Quinn who was now leaning against the restaurant wall, by himself. Where were the people who worked there or the other customers you didn’t know, and truthfully, you didn’t really care at that moment.

“Excuse me?” You asked, staring at him, watching as he shrugged, like he hadn’t said anything.

“I asked if you were having troubles in your little Angeleno world, since things seem to be so perfect in Los Angeles.”

“This is the first conversation we have in years and this is how you want it to go? Seriously?” You stepped closer, standing in front of him, tilting your head up so you could stare into those beautiful eyes you’d love to lose yourself in.

No, you reprimanded yourself. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” he looked down, his eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of why this is our first conversation in years, Madison,” again, he said your name like it hurt him.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Guys, what the hell,” someone shouted beside you, making both you and Quinn turn your heads around. Jack stood there, looking slightly displeased, while Luke typed something on his phone. “We’ve been looking for you for ages. Our parents left through the other entrance a while ago. It’s time to party, baby!”

“I’m not going,” you hissed, stepping back.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Luke looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “Maddie. We haven’t seen each other in years!”

“I know, I’m just tired and—”

“We need to catch up!” Jack whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, shaking you slightly. “We need to talk!”

“She doesn’t like talking, do you, Madison?” Quinn blurted out, eyes turning gray when directed at you.

For some reason that one comment turned your fight or flight mode and you had enough. “You’re so funny, Quintin,” you plastered on the biggest fake smile you could. “Actually, I’m not that tired. Let’s go.”

You followed two yelling boys and a moody one, not even acknowledging the latter. If Quinn wanted to be all pissy about the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him in years, when he also hadn’t reached out to you, then fine. Two could play that game.

taglist: @ru-kru 🤎

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Two

For @erisweekofficial Day 2: Legacy

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Eris Vanserra carries a legacy of cruelty, a reputation forged in whispers and fear. But something doesn't quite fit anymore. You’re beginning to think that the male doesn't truly match the legend he's left behind.

Warnings: brief mentions of abuse, cruelty, injury, battling to death, introspection? like a lot, readers head is soooo big from these big thoughts

Word Count: 3.1k

did someone say eris week mini series???? technically can be read as a stand alone, just squint

Part One | Part Three

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

When Eris Vanserra was born, his mother wept in the bathroom for hours after.

Her trembling hands muffled her soft cries as her handmaidens swaddled a newborn Eris in fine cloth. Beron hadn’t been there for most of the birth—hadn’t held her hand the way her father had held her mother’s. He came only at the end, just in time to praise the heir as he left her womb, presenting him like a trophy before promptly leaving for court business.

She was still young, felt like a child herself— at least in her own mind. So, while she loved her son dearly, his birth had cemented her fate to a male she didn’t love, a male whose hands she feared more than death itself.

His mother loved him, this Eris knew. Even at a young age, he felt that love. It burned in him like a comforting flame, the same warmth as the heavy blanket she would tuck around him at night or the sunlight that seeped into his skin on warm afternoons.

And yet, even surrounded by that love, Eris grew up lonely.

His loneliness led him to finding a home in curiosity, in sticking his pointed nose into matters that often didn’t concern him, picking out small details he'd unconsciously store for later. He was a collector from the beginning—of people, of excuses, of emotions he had yet to name.

Perhaps that was why he was so sickeningly fond of you, so starkly different from the others, equally curious, equally lonely.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn't Eris who people met first.

It was his reputation.

Eldest son of the High Lord, equal parts cunning and cruel, a loyal soldier with the venom of a viper. Anguish seemed to follow him, seemed to follow any with Vanserra blood, but there was something distinct about Eris, something divinely alluring. Terrifyingly sinful.

It was all true. So you weren't sure why it bothered you so much when your patrons talked about him, when his name was thrown into conversations surrounding the High Lord.

Your family's tavern was always filled with stories. Its dimly lit, worn wooden tables had overheard more whispered secrets and slurred confessions than you could ever count. Most nights were like this, with drinks spilling over into the laps of locals, the hum of conversation swirling in the air like smoke from the hearth. Tucked in a corner of the court’s lands, it was a place for those not high enough to feast in grand halls but not low enough to beg in the streets. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. A comfortable middle ground.

You placed a handful foaming drinks before the three males at the bar, taking a moment to analyze their appearance. They were relatively large, muscular builds hinting at some form of laborious profession. The callouses on their hands told you that they handled weapons often. But their clothes weren't nice enough to be one of Beron's men, weren't tailored enough to be one of Eris's either. Perhaps they were border patrollers, the lowest and grimiest of the forces.

They thanked you with lingering, appraising eyes as you moved away to fetch more drinks.

“I heard,” one of the them said, leaning closer to his companions, “that the eldest boy has a new game he plays with those who cross him. A real spectacle.”

The male next to him, the oldest of the three, nodded eagerly. “They say he’s got a private arena where he forces traitors to fight each other to the death. It’s supposed to be brutal—nothing but blood and screams. And Eris just sits there, like it’s a grand show.”

You clenched your teeth, turning around to face the wall behind you, forcing yourself to attend to the pile of glasses waiting to be wiped down. You tried to focus on your task, hoping to drown out their disturbing conversation, but it was no use. You could feel your grip tightening on the material of the rag, knuckles white as they continued to talk, their voices growing louder and louder with every drink they took.

It was a lie. A rumor. Nothing more.

Yes, Eris was cruel. He was manipulative and calculated. But you'd seen slivers of something else, something brighter, kinder, even. While you believed that a male should face the consequences of his actions, there was no honor in perpetuating lies that simply weren’t true.

It made no sense, anyway. Eris had done plenty of questionable things. There were multitudes of actions to choose from, many things worthy of criticism. There was no need to indulge in falsehoods. The image they painted of Eris—a male reduced to a sadistic spectator in a grotesque spectacle—seemed far removed even from him.

“A grand show?” the third scoffed. “He’s not just watching. He’s placing bets on who’ll survive, like it’s some sick sport. It’s all for his amusement. I’ve heard he gets pleasure out of the carnage. Let's his hounds ravage the bodies.”

A knot tightened in your chest and you gripped the glassware harder, cloth bunching in your grasp. Before you could register the motion yourself, you spun around, the movement abrupt enough to make the males flinch.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you sneered. The males stiffened, large angry eyes boring into yours. You continued. "Bold of you to traverse around spreading rumors of a High Lord's son. Be grateful he isn't around to correct you himself."

You blinked, the anger draining away as quickly as it had surged, leaving a wave of embarrassment in its place. You took in the male’s faces—initially stunned, then quickly morphing into anger. It was an expected reaction from those who felt their pride wounded, especially from males who had just been scolded by a low-court fae like yourself.

You straightened, trying to regain your composure as you cleared your throat.

The largest of the men leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with a sneer. “Well, well, boys,” he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “I think our pretty little bartender might be one of the Princeling’s whores.”

You weighed your options as you stood there, hand still gripping the glass. For a fleeting moment, you were tempted to shatter it over his head. The thought of the glass breaking, of the shards embedding themselves in his skin, was almost satisfying.

But you didn't. Your father would be angry, would be disappointed above all. You needed the business.

You took a deep breath and your grip on the glass loosened.

“Allow me to apologize,” you said. “It seems I’m more sensitive about our court’s reputation than I realized. I don’t know what came over me. How about a round on the house?”

Their faces shifted to smug satisfaction as they accepted the offer with eager grins and, soon, their cups were filled once more. As they happily downed their next round of drinks, you slipped out from behind the bar.

The door’s bell chimed softly as you stepped outside, itching to find the heir that was imprinted into your mind.

Strangely enough, you knew exactly where he'd be.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You found him in a clearing south of The Forest House, an expansive area bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. It was a dedicated space for the hounds, adorned in various obstacles that Eris used during their training—wooden jumps, tunnels, and agility courses set up with careful precision. You'd seen the area of land a handful of times before, times when Lucien found Eris to argue or hurl curses.

You approached carefully, watching as Eris kneeled by one of the hounds, gently tending to what seemed to be a cut on its paw.

After a moment, he finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards and a playful glint manifested in his eyes.

"Even after all these years, a vixen without a fox at her side is still a strange sight."

You gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath as your eyes roamed the face of the male before you.

It was an unnecessary jab.

Lucien hadn’t been by your side for centuries now. Though you had visited him as often as you could, the friendship you once shared had changed. He had changed. You had, too. You'd grown into your life at Autumn—managing the tavern that bore your family’s name and living vicariously through the stories that came your way.

The last time you had seen Lucien was marked by a change. You'd looked into his eyes and somehow understood that things were different beyond what had been anticipated.

"Why do you do that?" You asked. "Be a dick when you don't need to be?"

Eris stood, brushing his hands clean as the hound trotted away to rejoin the rest. He narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, a scrutinizing, analyzing moment. Then he offered you a shrug, something so casual and dismissive. You were sure it would've warded off anyone else, that his disinterestedness would have begun to tired them already, turn them the other way.

"Maybe it's part of my charm," he finally responded, "Or maybe I'm just a dick."

He made no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice as he emphasized your insult. Eris had been called many things— you'd heard them, even delivered a few of the titles. But so far, you were the only one to call him two things: a dick, and a prick. Perhaps it was delusion, but you swore that he seemed to enjoy it when you said such things, seemed to smirk in a way that wasn't just cruel, but impressed.

You rolled your eyes. "Most wouldn't wear that title with such pride."

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "What's the use in denying my nature?"

You sighed, a sound of frustration, of annoyance. "Do you not grow bored of your little games?"

Eris rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. He always had immaculate posture, his stature was often so perfect that it was almost uncomfortable to witness. It emphasized his wealth, somehow— emphasized his power. He towered over you even more now.

"Did you seek me out solely to criticize me?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "No."

"Then why?"

You still weren't entirely sure why you had come.

"Perhaps I was bored."

Eris raised an eyebrow. "Do you not have any friends?"

You bristled. "I have plenty." You paused, allowing your gaze to settle on the view before you, on the open land and the animals that in the open expanse. You turned back to Eris. "It's you that doesn't seem to have any. Your only companionship recently seems to be those hounds. I'm surprised you're not running on all fours."

Eris's expression shifted. He let out a small chuckle and you fought against the twitch in your lips, cursed the warmth that blossomed in your chest. But the amusement dissipated from his face soon after, replaced be a resolve of cold indifference. His eyes seemed tired in this light.

"As much as I…enjoy our little talks," He began after a moment, "I didn't ask for company. You should find someone who wants it."

A small sense of rejection passed through your skin like a cold, morning chill. You were never foolish enough to think Eris would welcome your presence with open arms and a smile, never naive enough to consider yourself anything more than semi-peaceful acquaintances. But still, there was something deep within you that wished he’d show you something beyond the disregard he showed others.

That wasn't a fool's wish— because you knew it was possible.

You'd seen it.

Strangely enough, you had. In the stolen glances when he thought no one was looking, how he lingered after you stumbled, offered a hand before quickly retracting it. There had been flowers at your door after your mother passed of Autumn fever, an unusual number of wealthy patrons who had frequented your father’s tavern for months afterward, tipping generously despite only having a drink or two. They all adorned attire of a specific, deep green that you’d come to recognize easily—the shade often worn by Eris’s personal guard.

His name was never attached to any of it, but you could trace it back to him. You'd always wondered why he'd never taken credit, never basked in somehow proving your presumptions about him wrong.

Twenty-nine year old you, freshly bonded to Lucien after he'd stumbled across your father's tavern, would be shocked that centuries later, she'd be spending more time alongside his cruel brother than Lucien himself.

You’d had an image of Eris back then—an image painted by Lucien’s words. It was accurate, to an extent. You never doubted your best friend’s judgment, never questioned the stories of cruelty and ambition that followed Eris like a shadow. He had, indeed, made Lucien suffer. There were reasons he disliked his brothers so deeply, reasons you knew were valid.

But you were curious by nature, always craving to understand things deeply, intricately. And Eris Vanserra called to you like a riddle from an ancient tale—dangerous, alluring, and impossible to ignore.

Above all else, you wanted answers. Throughout the years, Eris had never called upon your bargain, never asked for a favor, never even mentioned the price you’d paid for that first visit with Lucien. Not once.

It unnerved you.

"I don't understand you," you said, without realizing the words had fallen from your lips.

You hadn't intended on voicing it so blatantly. You weren't quite sure how Eris would respond, how he would interpret your words. It was a tossup, really, between a snarky response or something condescending, something to make you feel silly, naive.

Silence.

Eris shifted, turning his body to look out into the horizon before him.

"Not everything in life is meant to be understood."

You paused.

Eris was complicated. Unfortunately for you, you loved complicated. It wasn't boring. It made you think, made you wonder. You gravitated towards the eldest Vanserra more often than you'd like to admit. It was easier now, you decided, since Lucien's watchful eye wasn't around. He didn't have to witness your betrayal first hand, didn't have to see as you attempted to find something in his brother. You weren't sure what that something was, but you were certain you were searching for it. You had been for years.

"That's not true. I can understand things if I try hard enough."

Eris played idly with the rings on his hands. "You set yourself up for disappointment, Vixen," he said to the empty air before him, not turning to look at you. "Why does everything need to have a deeper meaning?"

You studied his face further. Noting the lines etched around his eyes and the set of his jaw. He was beautiful. You weren’t one to deny it—all of the Vanserras were. But where Lucien had been handsome, radiating a gentle charm that made you blush with every lingering gaze, Eris was more akin to the sharp edge of the season’s chill—striking, with an air of regal severity. His amber eyes alone seemed to hold the crisp, unyielding essence of autumn itself—beautiful, but not without its bite.

"It doesn't need to," you replied. "But it often does. I think details are important."

He didn't respond as he turned to face you. You glanced up at him, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that seemed almost tangible.

"You've never lied to me," you stated. It was a statement more than it was a question.

"No," Eris replied.

His gaze didn't waver. You were almost impressed that you'd managed to hold his stare for so long. No one had ever looked at you like this before—so deeply, so penetrating. You understood now how his mere gaze could make people crumble, understood the rumors of how he only took his partners from behind, how he never made eye contact.

You pushed away the burning thoughts that arose.

"Is it true?" Your gaze bounced around his face. "Do you force your traitors to fight for your amusement? Place bets on them like animals?"

Eris's eyes flickered with something dark, but he didn't move.

"Do you think it is?" he countered.

You shook your head. You were certain of your answer, but you needed to hear his. "No. I don't."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Then it’s not," he said simply.

His expression revealed nothing more as you scanned his face. He didn't seem startled by your question, didn't seem confused at the context. He was aware of the rumors, of the stories circulating like the last morsels of food at a feast—passed around, savored, and eagerly consumed.

"It doesn't bother you? That these lies exist?"

A hint of confusion crossed his features, as if the question itself was somewhat absurd.

"Why would it?"

You blinked, momentarily retracting into yourself.

As a hound trotted up to Eris, his attention shifted. He crouched down, meeting the beast at its level. The gentle manner with which the hound regarded him, the affection in its eyes, stirred something inside you, deep within your gut. Your father had always said that a male’s nature could be understood through how animals responded to him.

Eris clearly cared for his hounds, and they, in turn, cared for him.

You found yourself wondering if, deep down, Eris was ever troubled by his reputation.

Lucien always had been.

He cursed the blood than ran through his veins, spent every moment trying to prove himself to be better than the legacy of his family— he did everything he could to avoid the curse of a wicked kin.

But then there was the male before you.

Eris, the rightful heir and firstborn son, was different.

You had always assumed he was bestowed with the legacy of the kingdom, that he was born for the role of High Lord, eagerly embracing the title and its accompanying glory. He seemed built for it, seemed to thrive under its weight.

You watched as more hounds approached him, watched as they surrounded him like a loyal fleet.

Could it be possible, you thought, that perhaps it wasn't all gifted. That it was possible Eris was burdened with the legacy of a Court?

You realized, then, that you'd never truly acknowledged that what he had become allowed for a kinder brother to grow in his wake.

The thoughts came faster, hazy, so many that your vision began to blur. It all made you itch, made you uncomfortable, made you overwhelmed and desperate for more.

None of this felt right.

You stared at Eris for a few more moments. When he stood up straight once more, about to turn toward you, you turned and ran to your horse.

You could feel his stare burning into you as you left.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

reader panicking when she has deep intellectual thoughts about sexy man as he tends for his dogs. shes so me fr

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[mickandmusings]

felt good on my lips

part of the 'hangman & honey' series! (stand alone story)

summary: as the sun settles over the texas air on the most patriotic day of the year, honey and jake find themselves encased in a different kind of heat, the kind that had little to do with the burning star in the sky. that night, as fireworks erupt against the starry sky, a different kind of spark flames between the two.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: sticky sweet fluff, southern american traditions, a fourth of july special, some slightly suggestive thoughts from jake and honey's mind (nothing spicy)

*timeline: this takes place the summer after part III!

**i'm not sure if this is common knowledge anywhere outside of the southern US, so some explanation: window air conditioning units are necessary for most older homes (they get extremely hot), the 'pig' is a local grocery store aka piggly wiggly, and also, kids are always sort of everywhere at family get-togethers, and the closest adult will take care of whatever kid, whether they belong to them or not, lol. southern americans give their grandparents weird names.

-

Under the scorching rays of the Texas sun, Jake lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat dripping down his face. It's nearing lunchtime, and it's prime time for the heat index to reach its max temperature. He'd been outside for an hour or so now, setting up folding tables and taping cheap red, white and blue tablecloths to them. His extended family would be trudging down Seresin Farm Road in an hour's time, and the day's festivities would be off and away. His grandmother had all but stormed into his bedroom at eight that morning, startling not only him, but Honey who was sleeping peacefully between his arms. (They were both more startled at the fact that they weren't technically supposed to be sleeping in the same bed anymore, and that they'd been caught, but Janet had seemed more focused on the fact she had a dozen more people to feed.)

After he sets up the last table in the front yard, he sighs and decides to shed the sweat-drenched shirt plastering to his chest. He wipes his face with it and takes a moment to look at his work before he went to retrieve his next task from his grandmother. The tablecloths were uneven and more than a little wonky, but they would do good enough. He shrugs and begins to make his trek back to the farmhouse. Jake's bad mood had already begun to seep in, he truly despised most of his extended family. They only visited on holidays, despite only living an hour or so away in Austin. They never visited for any pure reason, they always came when they needed or wanted something-primarily monetary-from his well-off grandparents. They would come and complain incessantly about the heat or the simplicity of small-town life, and it drove Jake absolutely mad. As he walked up the porch steps, he heard Honey's boisterous laughter filtering through the screen door he was opening. Her sweet happiness made the tension fall from his shoulders, and his face broke into a small grin.

His eyes found her immediately-she's standing at the kitchen counter next to his grandmother, a pair of denim shorts adorning her legs and her his well-worn, thin white shirt on her torso, doing little to hide the red and white striped swimsuit top underneath it. Jake felt heat fill his blood, and he knew the Texas sun had nothing to do with it. Her hair fell in waves across her shoulders from the braid she'd slept in, and she stood barefoot as she stirred something in a mixing bowl. Neither Janet nor Honey had heard him walk in, so Jake stood in the door frame, a smirk painted across his face. He watched them work in perfect tandem-there's no chatter between them, they navigated the kitchen without having to say a word-Honey working on sweets while his grandmother seemed to be making something in a casserole dish. Country music filled the kitchen from the radio on the opposite counter, and the hum of the window air-conditioning unit sounded over it, providing the ambiance of Jake's idea of a perfect southern, summer day.

After standing staring at his girlfriend for probably far too long, Jake decided to make his presence known. He sneakily slides his hands around Honey's waist, causing her to jump and let out a small yelp. She turns around in his arms, her eyes wide as she looks at him, her mouth open like she has something to say but she falls silent when she looks down at his bare torso. Jake laughs and places a chaste kiss on her cheek, and she sends him a pointed look when she composes herself.

"You scared the absolute mess out of me, Jacob Thomas!"

He kisses her other cheek, distracting her long enough to snatch a cookie from the plate in front of her. Janet watches from the corner of her eye, smiling as she chastises and shoos Jake out of her kitchen. He shuffles up the stairs to his and Honey's room to get in his own patriotic swimwear, leaving Honey with a rosy blush on her face. Honey tries to swallow her visions of the sight of him down, focusing on icing the cupcakes in front of her with red icing and white and blue sprinkles, but her cheeks still flamed.

"You alright, Honey, need me to bump up the air in here? You're looking a little red," Janet's voice is dripping with faux sympathy, she's not stupid, she knows why Honey is blushing.

"Uh, n-no, I'm fine," Honey gives her a bright smile, focusing back on the desserts she was supposed to be finishing up. The sound of Jake's heavy footsteps come down the stairs, American-flag printed swim trucks on his tanned legs, a white and blue Cowboys shirt on his torso. Honey rolled her eyes, had she really fallen in love with the most stereotypical American dream boy known to man?

"Jake, dear," Janet's voice pipes up, turning to face her grandson. "Alice is bringing her grandkids along, the younger ones. I bought some water balloons the other day, they're in that Pig bag on the back porch. Why don't you and Honey fill those up, hm?"

"Yes ma'am," Jake nodded heading towards the back door, Honey right behind him. He holds the door open for her, and slides his hand across her waist and into the back pocket of her shorts as they walk around back. Honey looks over at her boyfriend, not surprised by his action, but more so his constant affections today. She uses the plastic bag full of water balloons to slap his chest playfully.

"You're touchy today, Seresin." Honey's voice is humorous, simply jabbing at him as a joke.

Jake's green eyes shine in the sun, his eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head, his favorite Longhorns cap backwards against his head. Once they reach the back of the house, Jake (unfortunately) lets go of his hold on her, turning on the water at the faucet. Honey dumps the bucket full of rainwater next to it, making room for their tied balloons.

"Sweetheart, after you meet my asshole family members you might run like hell, got to hold on to you while I can."

Honey frowns, she knows all about asshole family members.

"Jake you've met my mother and didn't run, I think I'll be just fine."

Jake fills a blue balloon with water, handing it over for her to tie off. He lets out a dry chuckle, pausing his actions to look up at her.

"Take your mother, times her by like eight, and give her four kids a piece, and grandkids. Then, give them all better-than-you attitudes and lookin' down their noses at you. Honey, baby, they're monsters."

It was Honey's turn to feel heat wash over her, and, under the shade of the house, she knew it had little to do with the heat and the new pet name Jake had just used. She'd never say it, too embarrassed to admit something like that to him, but she certainly liked that one the most. She stands stock still, holding the completed balloon in her hand, only staring as Jake fills another one, this time red. He hands it to over to her to tie, and notices her not moving.

"You alright, Hon?" He ties off the balloon himself, noticing the flames painting her cheeks. "Damn, you're already red. Can't stand in the sun five minutes before your skin starts burnin'."

He slings his hat over her head, the bill facing forward now.

"That'll at least keep your face from peelin' tonight."

Honey could've told him the truth, that the red was from a blush, but she didn't. She simply smiled, tucking her hair into the back of the hat to fashion a ponytail as she helped him finish the task at hand. As Jake slung the bucket into his arms and the pair started walking back towards the house, the rumble of vehicles sounded down their gravel driveway. Jake stops in his track, using his spare hand to hold onto Honey's, his voice annoyed as he spoke:

"Fuck me! They're already here."

Honey only laughed and shook her head, pulling her dramatic boyfriend back towards the house as she spoke:

"Hey, look at this way, we hang out here for a few hours, and then we have fireworks out at Willie's family's place at nine, and we're leaving before then to swim with Brett and Willie, and then you won't have to see them again until Thanksgiving."

Jake sighed, pulling her into him by the waist. The backyard was secluded enough that they could have a private moment, so Jake leaned in for a deep kiss. Honey felt her skin tingle with goosebumps, Jake's hands on her hips sending them down her spine. They broke apart and he winked at her, walking around the front to greet his family.

-

After meeting Jake's family, Honey realized he hadn't been exaggerating when he thought they were the worst. The adults had a sort of holier-than-thou air about them, with the exception of his Uncle Danny who seemed to be relatively down to Earth. Danny's only downside was that he came with his overly judgmental wife, Yvonne, who sneered at the dirt on the bottom of her fancy-looking sandals, and his six kids. Jake seemed to like Danny, and the two carried on a conversation over one of the tables. Honey found herself off to the side, not wanting to interrupt. She nursed a solo cup of lemonade as she watched the Seresin family interact with one another-a perpetual wallflower in any social situation. Janet and Jacob Sr. sat with a group of older family members, swapping laughter and memories of those long gone. Honey felt herself pick at the skin around her fingernails, swallowing a set of tears that loomed behind her eyes. Even if Jake despised his family, with their attitudes and short looks, at least he had a family to see each other on holidays. Honey thought of her mother, likely at a party with her new boyfriend's family, before she shut the thought down completely, her bottom lip between her teeth. Without much thought, she went around to the back porch, overlooking the group of kids playing in the sprinkler. All of Danny's kids (all under ten, and completely wild) played with Alice's two granddaughters peacefully, and Honey smiled. She had a slew of cousins back home in Mississippi, and, in times like these, she missed them terribly.

When she looked back up at the kids, she saw the scene of disaster unfold before her eyes. One of Danny's older girls had all but barreled into Alice's youngest granddaughter, who couldn't have been older than two. The toddler hit her head against the ground hard, and it was obvious by the look on her face a round of tears were coming. Honey's instinct kicked in before her logical thinking, and she shuffled down the stairs of the porch and scooped the little girl up before her loud sobs filled the air.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Honey rocked her in her arms, the toddler now sobbing against Honey's shoulder. Honey looked down at her for any possible bruises or knots on her head, but she seemed fine, the fall had most likely just startled her. "How about we go get you a popsicle, yeah? That sound good?"

The toddler, whom Honey still didn't know the name of, nodded against her shoulder, and Honey sighed in relief. She brought the young girl onto the porch and wraps her in her Barbie towel, plopping her into the rocker on the porch. Honey slings open the freezer and spots the plastic bag of different colored popsicles.

"What color, little lady?" Honey smiles at the toddler with sopping wet pigtails. A grin forms on the young girl's face as she shyly responds. "Blue."

Honey smiles and retrieves the popsicle and hands it to her, popping it open and smiling down at her.

"You alright?" Honey speaks, sitting down in the rocker opposite her. "That was a pretty hard hit."

The toddler nods as blue begins to stain her mouth, her big brown eyes looking over at Honey. "I okay, thanks."

Honey laughs at the toddler babble and begins to look out at the other children again, the children still running through the sprinkler safely. It isn't until she feels a cold hand on her leg that Honey looks down, the toddler looking up at her with her arms raised. She wants to be picked up. Honey picks her up and places her into her lap, the girl looking at her with a blue, toothy grin.

"I'm Presley."

Honey grins widely, "Hi Presley, my name is Honey."

The toddler smiles again, getting more comfortable in Honey's grasp.

"You're pretty."

"Me?" Honey jokes with the girl. "You Miss Presley are so pretty."

Presley giggles and Honey finds herself laughing too. The two are so absorbed in conversation about Barbies and Presley's preschool friends that they don't notice Alice and Janet rounding around to the front in the search for Presley, Jake behind them, in search of Honey.

"There you are, sweetheart," Alice coos to her granddaughter. Honey grows shy, not knowing Alice well. When Jake spots her, his eyes grow wide, his blonde-haired baby cousin sitting in Honey's lap. Honey was relaxed, her body language comfortable. Jake stops in his tracks, another feeling coming over him that he couldn't explain. The sight of the girl he was in love with, sweetly comforting the toddler in her arms made his emotions stir.

Presley looks at her grandmother from Honey's lap. "I okay, Gigi. Honey gave me a 'sicle!" The toddler waved the partially melted treat in the air. Honey's sweet smile formed across her face as she looked down at Presley, and Jake's heart hammered. He'd never seen Honey so comfortable with strangers, but he knew his girl's heart, and she had a soft spot for babies. Presley launched into her grandmother's arms and Honey went to meet Jake down at the bottom of the stairs. His jade green eyes glimmered down at her, her sun-kissed face hidden under his baseball cap that still sat on her head. All he wanted to do was pull her in for a heated kiss, but he decided against it, given that their company was made up of children and his own grandmother.

Honey smiled up at him, "You alright? They annoy you that much already?"

Jake only shook his head, grabbing her hand and intertwining with his own.

Honey gave him a look, as if she didn't fully believe him. "Ready to head to Willie's place?"

Jake nodded, kissing her cheek. She smiled.

"Did you grab our towels? I can go get us some if not it's-"

"I got it, baby, go get in the truck."

Honey stilled in his arms. That damn nickname was going to kill her.

-

Later that night, Jake and Honey found themselves sitting on the sandbar of the river under the moon, Willie and Brett both drunk off of Willie's dad's beer he'd stolen. Jake nor Honey had been as brave, Honey had half of one before she'd tossed it to the side, and Jake had finished it. Jake laughed as Willie tossed Brett into the water, both of them mock-fighting one another. Honey had long since had her fill of swimming, her hair damp and a beach towel around her shivering body. Jake had one arm slung over her, pressing her against his side for more warmth. If he was honest, he'd spent less time swimming with his friends and more staring at Honey in her swimsuit. She lazily floated on her back as his stupid friends all but drowned one another. Now she sat next to him as Brett and Willie picked themselves up out of the water and headed back towards the cabin that Willie's family owned, getting ready to set off fireworks with his family.

Jake had appreciated their offer for he and Honey to join them, but Jake knew Honey would much rather enjoy the fireworks without Willie's entire extended family around. Selfishly, he wanted a moment alone with her anyways. She smiled up at him in the silence, her eyes shining in the moonlight.

"It always ends with just us, huh?" Her voice comes out.

"You complainin'?" Came Jake's retort.

She shook her head, leaning up to kiss his cheek, resting her head against his shoulder. Silence settled over them, and someone shouted in the distance before a display of lights burst across the black sky. Honey smiled as she watched the display, but Jake's focus was on her instead. They hadn't had a true moment alone since his 16th birthday a few weeks before, and he was going to savor every second he had. Her eyes darted at the lights in the sky, Jake's hand resting on the bare skin of her torso, the spot not covered by her swimsuit. His thumb brushed against her skin, and she smiled up at him again. When they caught eyes, Jake couldn't stop himself, his opposite hand coming to her chin to connect their lips. As a round of blue fireworks filled the air, neither of them caught the display, Honey's hands in Jake's blonde locks, and both of his now pulling her into his lap. She giggled faintly as they pulled apart, that kiss had been more heated than she'd intended. Honey feels brave, pulling him back into another kiss just like the last. Jake's hands move to her hips, his heart racing at her touch. He thinks back to Brett's comment about him already being 'whipped', and as Honey's lips meet his again, he knows he's done for. Soon it's messy, clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake gently pulls her back, his southern gentleman instinct kicking in. His eyes are dark, darker than Honey's ever seen them, and he's breathing heavy.

"We should probably slow down, baby."

She stills again, her entire frame encapsulated in flames. Her hands go back to Jake's hair. Their faces are close, but their lips aren't touching.

"I love it when you call me that," her voice is a whisper, and Jake almost doesn't hear her over the fireworks popping in the sky. His eyes dart between her own, his lips barely meeting hers before he mumbles.

"Baby," His lips crash against hers, and Honey, in an act most definitely unusual to her nature, let's herself go completely. There's no shy hesitation, she's unabashedly aflame for him, the name feeling ridiculously good against her lips.

As much as Jake wanted to let this progress, the logical part of his brain refuses to allow him to take her on the dusty sandbar of his friend's spot on the river. He pulls away and pushes the hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear, kissing her forehead and pulling her into his chest. He watched the rest of the firework show with Honey in his arms, placing relatively innocent kisses to the side of his neck as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. When Brett and Willie had come back to retrieve them, they'd teased them relentlessly-kissing noises and snarky comments about the couple-but Jake let it roll of his shoulders as he carried Honey piggy-back up the hill and back to his truck, her head resting on his shoulder on the way home. His hand rests against her thigh, his thumb lazily rubbing against her skin.

The night is quiet, the country music in his truck at a low volume. When he pulls up to the house, Honey's fast asleep against him. He shakes his head fondly and slides her out of the truck, tossing their towels and wet clothes across the front banister of the porch. His grandparents had long since gone to bed, and Jake was thankful, he was too tired to try to sneak Honey from her room across the hall into his. He simply brings her straight into his room, and places her carefully onto their bed. He carefully peels off her shoes and chucks them across the room before falling into bed beside her. He pulls her close, and his eyes are fluttering shut before he can even remember to shut off the lamp on his bedside table. He only mumbles down to her before he falls into deep sleep:

"G'night, baby."

-

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[michinekot]

What do u like about thistle?

I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.

He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master. Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡

I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.

Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:

First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.

He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.

And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind. And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...

He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)

It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.

He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.

He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.

I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.

Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.

I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.

I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.

But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.

So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever. And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello!! I love your work n au sm I’ve been ADDICTED!! 💖💖

Could I possibly request a Kunikida x GN! Reader where the reader is deeply insecure about relationships and unknowingly fits his ideals ? Ie: hard worker, good w/ kids, stuff like that? Like reader is lamenting about how all their friends are in relationships but nobody seems to look at them in that way and Kunikida is like erm actually ☝️☝️

Thanku sm either way I love reading everything you write 😸😸

Ideal partner

Self-Aware! Kunikida Doppo x GN! Reader

Description: People said, that Kunikida's ideal partner don't Kunikida disagrees.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Reader are insecure.

_______

"It's... Something, Kunikida-san." Atsushi turned the page of Kunikida's notebook. Dazai, who has been looking at the notebook's pages above Atsushi's shoulder, huffed.

"You are quite a hard-worker, Kunikida-kun. Spending the whole night filling that thing."

John Steinbeck, who was carrying crates with supplies, that were collected by The Guild, walked past them. He gave them a side glance.

"Discussing something interesting, detectives?"

"Ideals" Dazai waved his hand. Steinbeck gave them a weird look and start walking again, mumbling 'our new roommates' under his breath.

Lifestyle in Yokohama was changing. However, something didn't change at all. And, something, was brought back to existence.

Like a familiar book of a certain blonde detective.

Kunikida Doppo didn't want to admit it, but, after making peace with being self-aware (and getting attached to you) he feels that something still was missing. Something small, but important.

His book of ideals was missing. Well, technically, the notebook itself still was with him. But it was empty. No ideals were written down.

Kunikida couldn't bare it anymore. So, he spent the whole"night" (or what was supposed to be night in the Real World, according to your phone's watch) writing down his new set of ideals.

It put him in a good mood. And, even after he got scolded by Fukuzawa ("Kunikida, I understand, that you want to work as hard as you can, and get to Guiding Light as fast as possible, but, please, mind the time. Otherwise, it will be a hassle, when we got to the Real World and had to get used to normal day/night cycle."), Kunikida's good mood didn't change.

"Your ideal partner criteria are still here and still something, Kunikida-kun. Are you sure, that you can find such person even in the Real World?" Dazai grinned teasingly. Kunikida rolled his eyes.

"Say whatever you want, Dazai, but my ideal partner do exist. And I will find them."

Dazai shrugged. His grin became even wider.

"We will see."

__________

"Well, I expect something like that, but not to that extent." Dazai mumbled, looking at Kunikida's "Ideal partner" list. Near each sentence was now a little plus symbol drawn.

Kunikida glared at Dazai.

"And what that supposed to mean?!"

Dazai quickly raised both of his hands.

"Nothing bad! Nothing bad! Just... I agree, that Iris Flower is great."

Great? You weren't just great! You were perfect. Kunikida could write a whole essay about how perfect you are.

You were a hardworking person. You do your job to the fullest. You always make sure, that everything is done perfectly.

You were great with children. You know, how to calm them down, what books and games offer them to pass the time. You even could make them do their homework without fussing.

You were kind, generous, smart. You have both inner and outer beauty.

You were perfect!

"... I am not surprised, that you want to have romantic relationship with them. But, I never expected that you would find all of your ideals in them. I did expect you to dismiss or change your ideals, so [Y/N] would fit them."

Dazai chuckled. A rare genuine smile appeared on his face.

"You managed to surprise me. I hope, that you will make [Y/N] happy. Just remember..."

Dazai's expression darkened. "If you break their heart..."

Kunikida glared at Dazai.

"How dare you think, that I will do something like that?! I will cherish them. We will have a loving courtship, before getting married."

Dazai visibly flinched.

"Kunikida-kun... For the love of everyone... Never let others, especially [Y/N], hear the words "loving courtship" ever again."

_______

That evening was one of the calm ones. Everyone were, mostly, minding their own business. Nikolai didn't annoy Fyodor. Dazai didn't annoy Chuuya and Kunikida. You were laying on a couch, mindlessly scrolling through the social media. Suddenly, your gaze catches a post from one of your co-worker, that you were friends with.

"Today is our anniversary! Look, what my sweetheart did for me 💝"

The post contains a photo of a table with home cooked breakfast on it. All dishes were decorated with paper hearts, a small vase with bouquet of flowers was standing in the middle of the table. A card with some lovey-dovey words was visible in the corner of the table.

You scrolled further.

As another nail in your good mood's coffin, the next post was from another one of your friend. That post was about getting into a new relationship.

You fight an urge to sign. Another one. Another one of your friends got in a relationship.

You weren't jealous. But you felt a little bit of hurt. Every time you heard about your friends' dates or partners, you felt, like you were the stereotypical forever single friend.

You went on dates before. But, there was never a second date. Your friends were getting into relationship. They looked happy. They weren't alone.

Meanwhile, you were alone. And, no matter how hard you try, you never managed to find a partner.

Perhaps, you weren't attractive enough to be viewed as someone's romantic partner.

"I am pretty sure, that your ex-partners have done more for your anniversary." Aya's voice sounded right above your ear. You jumped, turning your head towards her. The girl has climbed almost on the top of your armchair, looking at your phone screen above you. Bram's hand carefully grabbed her by the collar, gently picking her up.

"Manners, Princess." softly scolded he. Aya huffed.

"Sorry, Bra-chan, I just got so excited! So, [Y/N]..." Girl looked back at you. "I was right, right? Your ex-partners have done something better for your anniversary, yes?"

You were still blinking, trying to proceed the situation.

(No one noticed a strange mix of determination and jealousy on Kunikida's face)

You should be careful. Because kids were the worst, when they learned about your love life.

You bit your lip.

"Well, no, there were no celebrations for the anniversary..."

And hell got loose. The quiet room became loud. Everyone wants to say something, to complain about your terrible "ex-partners". Aya, still in Bram's hold, shook her first in the air.

"What?! What an awful people! How dare they?! Let me at them, I will teach them some respect!"

"Give me names!" you don't need to look at Teruko, to see her bloodthirsty expression.

Okay, you need to let the cat out of the bag.

You stand up and almost yelled.

"There were no anniversaries! Because I was never in a relationship! I never had a partner"

The room became quiet. Now everyone was staring at you.

Aya tilted her head.

"What? Why? Why you were never in a relationship before?"

You tried not to look in Aya's eyes.

"Why? I don't understand..."

You gulped. You really didn't want to talk about it. Time to change the subject.

"Oh, look at the time! I need to be somewhere else... In my room."

Good job, [Y/N], really smooth.

Bram start whispering something in Aya's ear. Count Stoker looked at you apologetically.

"Wait! I still don't understand! How came someone as amazing as you never had a partner?!" Aya ignored Bram's attempts to hush her, deciding to ask That Question. The girl looked not only curious, but also sad. She really thought, that your non-existent love live was something unfair.

You nervously looked around. You really didn't want to discuss it, especially with kids.

Because, of your nervousness, you didn't see, that Kunikida's face expression was quite similar to Aya's. Less curious, but, still an equally "That's unfair!" expression.

"I guess, there is nothing in me to be loved for..."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" you were pretty sure, that you have heard, how windows rattled because of Kunikida's scream.

Before anyone can do something, Kunikida grabbed you by the hand and started to drag you away.

_______

He stopped before your room. Kunikida was still holding your hand. His breathing was heavy.

You broke the silence.

"Kunikida... What..."

His voice was quiet but firm.

"Never... Never say, that there is nothing in you to be loved for."

You looked away.

"Kunikida, there's no need to try to cheer me up. I already made peace with that fact..."

Kunikida softly squeeze your hand.

"I mean it... You are really important to me... You fit all of my ideals."

You closed your mouth. Kunikida took his notebook and showed you the list of his ideal partner criteria. Each of them had pluses drawn near. You didn't know what to say. Kunikida's voice was soft.

"When I became self-aware, my notebook was completely empty. There was nothing. Not even one of my ideals were written down. The big part of my life was gone. And then I find a strength to live on. I find you."

You won't cry. You won't cry.

Kunikida's gaze soften.

"I wrote my ideals down again. It was my own decision. And I managed to do it, because you gave me strength."

Kunikida carefully cupped your face.

"My ideals for a partner... I thought, of what I want to see in them. Not about someone particular. You fit all of them by being your own person. [Y/N], My Ideal, you are perfect. You make me feel so happy... What I want to say..."

Kunikida blushed. You felt, like your face was on fire.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You shyly nodded. Suddenly, Kunikida leaned forward and kissed you on a cheek. Still red, he mumbles.

"Great! I... I will... We will go at the end of the week, if it's fine with you."

You nodded again.

"Yes. I will wait for our date."

Kunikida's smile could brighten up the darkest abyss. Unknowingly, to you, your own smile was as bright as his.

[rebo-chan]

Okay so I make a lot of canon-adjacent posts. *gestures at my food post* very canon very important very informative. But my heart is full of whimsy and magic and sugar and spice and everything nice.

Today I wanted to talk about some of my hcs that I have regarding Tsuna and Reborn. Shit I just completely made up ^v^ I'll do five each to not make this a long post again rkehns.

Tsuna:

Grows up to really like coffee like his mentor, but could never really stand straight espresso. From my food post research, I saw that he is a snack food fiend. So, I think he's the type to enjoy lattes, frappuccinos, and mocha. What I'm saying is that he walks into Vongola meetings with a iced coffee and he stress-drinks it for the sugar rush.

Good with kids! I don't think he wants kids of his own, because he has enough of those, but he's the perfect balance of playful and strict. I do think though, if he did become a parent by some accident, he'd be the stricter one of the two. Mom is gonna be the fun one and Dad is the one that brings crazy things around you, but tries to put you to bed at 8pm.

Still a bit of a dumbass as a mafia boss. The moment he found out he has to give salaries to people and try to tax that shit and file it with their IRS but also do the calculations himself, since technically he shouldn't show that information to Gokudera or anyone else that will know how to Math. He lives each paycheck day in fear that he will wake up the next morning and get arrested for fraud.

Actually bars anyone from bringing in pets to Vongola HQ. Believes they have their hands full with their box animals. "No, Yamamoto please we can't keep the box of stray puppies lets take that to a shelter -" "Gokudera, I see that you have a kitten in your pocket where.. where did you get it.." "Hibari.. Carry on, ignore me :)"

Has developed noise-cancelling ears. Doesn't hear the screams anymore. An ally family will comment on the noise at Vongola HQ and Tsuna will be like "..wdym? :o do you hear something?" Look around and will completely ignore Fuuta and I-Pin strapping Lambo to a medical desk as they are threatened by Bianchi, who is putting on sterile gloves and getting the scalpel. The silence though? The silence scares him. (WHAT A SOMBER LINE TO LEAVE OFF ON)

Reborn:

Super good with the ladies. I know this is something said in the story, but I mean the type that has the whole casual flirting with no weight to it thing down. But, also a little bit standoffish, like you'll never really get to know him this way. It's very strategic, but he does it for fun!!

Tries to teach Tsuna how to hide a body on multiple occasions, in case he ever needs it, but mostly to torment Tsuna. "You can't incinerate all your enemies to ash everytime, it'll get really obvious after awhile. You have to spice it up. Now, put on these gloves. I have someone for us to use" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE SOMEONE?"

I've said this one before, but it deserves saying again! I've always believed that pre-curse, his cosplay skills had real use! It was something he would use to sneak into buildings into or seduce who he needed to, before he brings the gun to their head. Very comfortable in skirts, dresses, wigs, makeup, etc. Wears his new identities like a second skin.

He snickers and sneers and smirks his way throughout the series (or does a lil maniacal evil laugh), but I bet his real laugh, uncursed, is deep and low. Something he keeps just in his throat, not loud at all. A softened version of his smirk on his face, pleased and relaxed. If you weren't paying attention, you'd miss it as he flips back into his regular demeanor.

LOVES judging things. Always the referee in their games (Snowfight!). Taste-testing (Mochi chapter!). Anything. He's judgmental and you WILL hear his opinion. I fully believe in the three criminal brothers episode, where Nana gets him coffee beans from a shop, he gets straight home afterwards and stands on the counter with his hands on his hips as it brews. He was prepared. Tsuna buys new snacks so Reborn opens all of them to take a bite and decide which one he likes best before taking it, leaving Tsuna with a bunch of opened bags. Ranks the guardians on obscure shit just to get them riled up "Most likely to win at a dance competition in a chicken suit" and he'll put Yamamoto above Gokudera just to watch him fume. A villain. I love him.

OKAY EVERYONE, THAT'S ALL I'LL DO FOR TODAY. Thank you for reading this far I hope you enjoyed reading it. PLEASE give me your hcs, I'd love to hear them. I need a lil pick me up c: It can be any character. Someday, I might do hcs for the other charas too. I think.. a lot about these guys. OKAY THANKS BYE !!!

[kurithedweeb]

I know people talk about MyS Gene and Laurance being exes, but. Hear me out. MCD Gene and Laurance being exes.

(This was specifically written for an AU where Laurance got married pre-canon but it still works well if you take that bit out.)

Think of the potential, especially if Gene is the one who turned Laurance into a Shadow Knight. Imagine the things he could draw on during Laurance's stay in the Nether. The narrative potential.

Maybe they were in a relationship in the guard academy. They met in Brightport when they were both checking out the guard academy with their families, maybe they ran into each other on their way to their barracks. They weren't very serious about it going in, had more of a friends-with-benefits deal that became boyfriends after a short while. They had a very good relationship, rarely if ever fought, and tried long distance for a while after their graduation before eventually deciding to officially break up. It was all very amicable and they still send letters to each other.

And then suddenly Gene stops answering. And it takes a long time for news to travel between Boboros and Meteli. Laurance sends a few letters, not knowing that Gene's parents have been getting rid of them. Maybe they send back a note saying Gene had been executed. Maybe they don't. Laurance can only wonder what happened.

Hear me out: Gene turned bad so quickly and drastically because all he wanted was to be loved. I swear I'm going somewhere with this. Gene wants to be loved so badly, he's craved it all his life, to the point where when he loves someone it will twist into an obsession at the slightest hint of rejection.

He loves his family, he lives with them and raises Dante and helps their mother with anything she could ever need. He loves Laurance, and is safe in the knowledge that Laurance never falls out of love with anyone even when they're halfway across the region from one another, and its clear in his letters even though they're not technically together anymore. He loves his men, and they adore their commander, and the same is true with the Lord. He loves the Lord's daughter -

And she doesn't love him. No matter what he says, what he does, she doesn't love him. And he has the power to change that. And then before he can, Dante, arguably the person he loves the most, turns his back on Gene.

And the obsessive part of him rears its ugly head. It doesn't matter how old Dante is, it doesn't matter that he's doing the right thing. He's betraying Gene.

Dante and his Lord and his Lord's daughter, even his own men, they all turned their backs on him when all he ever did was love them. So he swears his vengeance. And he wakes up under the eyes of a monster, a man who hands him his vengeance and all the love and adoration he could ask for on a silver platter, so long as he does this one job for him. So long as he's a good general.

And Gene can do that, Gene can be that. And he's adored for it. By his new Lord, by the men who fall under his command, and he can make the prisoners that fall under his purview adore him too.

And then he sees Laurance again. And they can have what they once had. Laurance, surely, never stopped loving him. Laurance never falls out of love with anyone. Gene saves Laurance from the other Shadow Knights, and he's so kind to him, so sweet, just like they once were, and Laurance is wearing a wedding ring.

A wedding . . . ha.

Laurance has fallen out of love with him. And he has the power to change that.

He tries to do it the easy way, with his magick, but Laurance is frustratingly resistant to it. Probably because of that damn swamp of his, the one he once said blessed him as a child, but that's fine. If he couldn't replace this spouse of Laurance's, he'd make him adore him again the way he does all the other prisoners.

By turning him. By giving him power beyond his wildest dreams, and a place at Gene's side like he once had.

And in the end, Laurance only hates him more. In the end, Laurance fears him. And that's okay. If he won't love him, fearing him is the next best thing.

All this to say Laurance and Gene are exes in the Drop of Sunlight universe.

[moongothic]

The worst part about trying to figure out what Crocodile's deal is that because he's so fucking irredeemably evil in Alabasta... Like... Yeah he's just irredeemably evil. Like I love him but he did cause countless casualties, a ton of pain and suffering and literally attempted to blow up a million people

Like no amount of theoretical "trying to do it to save his son from the Government" or "trying to stop the Government from hurting anyone else" or just "doing it for the greater good" is going to make him any less of a mass murderer

But also Robin absolutely 100% helped with all of that shit simply because she wanted to read the Poneglyph for herself.

No amount of her intending to betray Crocodile from the begining and sabotaging his plans erases the fact that Robin also caused countless people to starve to death and die in the civil war. Her sabotages only succeeded out of sheer luck, and only spared the lives of the people at the final battle. She has the blood of countless innocents on her hands. Because she wanted to read history.

But her crimes were swept under the rug because she has a sad backstory and her sabotages worked out just at the nick of time by sheer dumb luck

So Croc??? Just??? Is there a chance??? At all???

But also he did literally intend to sell Buggy into slavery

Like, fuck Buggy, but jesus

What's also killing me is that we like. Don't know what Luffy thinks of Crocodile right now. Which really is like. The thing that will decide how we, as the readers, are supposed to feel about Crocodile. Luffy is our POV

Like we don't know what Luffy's opinion of Crocodile is after he helped save Luffy (and spared Ace once) during the Summit War. Like Luffy clearly fucking hated the man in Impel Down and the two interactions they had during the War weren't like positive (in the sense that Luffy himself didn't think of the interactions as particularly positive. Defending Whitebeard from being attacked once and then being like "wait what HIM?!" when Crocodile defended Ace. To be fair, in the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much time to spend on Pondering On Such Things because Ace needed to be saved, and Oda goes out of his way to not show us what's going on inside Luffy's head, because it's all meant to be out in the open anyways. Regardless, these weren't like "yay it's Crocodile! :)" moments for Luffy is what I mean)

But also Luffy was very grateful of Law for saving his life and was willing to put his trust into Law for their alliance- of course, they weren't explicitly enemies to begin with, rivals at most, but still. Luffy respects those who help him.

But also Luffy grew during the timeskip. Like he's not that clueless anymore (like he finally understands Hancock is in love with him etc), and similarly Luffy gets that Buggy is an absolute loser now. But also Buggy did also help save Luffy's life (even if it was by accident), and while IDK if Luffy is aware of that, I don't think that helped improve Luffy's impression of Buggy

So like. The fuck does Luffy think of Crocodile, at this moment? Even with the Cross Guild reveal, he didn't even really comment on Croc and just focused his energy on being confused about Buggy being "the leader" of CG. IDK it feels almost intentional or something, that we don't know what Luffy thinks?? Especially since we did get Zoro's opinion on Mihawk in the situation?? Or am I delulu?? (Sidenote. I'd love to know what Robin would have to say about Crocodile helping save Luffy's life. What Jinbei might think of the final words Crocodile left him with before blasting them out of Akainu's reach. But mainly just Robin's thoughts)

Like IDK my best guess would be that Luffy still hates Crocodile just the same but is like grossed out by technically owing him one??? In the classic

-kinda way, you know? And that he'd be just kinda confused about it?

Because I can't fucking imagine Luffy being like "oh we're cool now" with Crocodile, let alone "Yay Crocodile :) He saved my life!". But also like. Luffy does kind of owe Croc one. Kind of. And Luffy is usually very respectful of that kind of thing. Aaaaaaaa???

(Also does. Does Luffy even know it was Crocodile who yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach to begin with. 'Cause he was unconcious. Knocked the fuck out. Does. Does Luffy even know. Did anybody tell him???)

I just.

There's the reasonable part of me that knows Crocodile is an irredeemable evil dickbag and everything he has ever said and done up to the most recent chapters support that. He is too far gone.

And then there's the absolutely delulu part that loves a tragic villian who gets a heartwrenching redemption that's looking for any fucking sign that could indicate Crocodile could maybe be one

[wishyouloveme]

smoke you like a drug...

Warnings: smoking,Billy Hargrove, sexual innuendo, weight mention,Neil mentions

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Billy Hargrove

A/n: I got this amazing idea from @shanakin-skywalker Thank you for the idea! I loved writing this one,oh my gosh

Requested: no! Heavily inspired by @shanakin-skywalker

As you stepped into the hall,you almost automatically realized you were being stared at. It gave you chills,no matter how much you usually loved the attention,mainly if it was from your boyfriend.

Speaking of,where was he? You hadn't seen his blue sparkling Camero when you drove in,and he hadn't showed up to pick you up either.

Shaking it off you continued walking,chewing your gum as you did so...

That was until someone came behind you and grabbed you around the middle,scaring the actual shit out of you.

You let out a small scream,and slightly punched the arm,but heard a lower chuckle and almost immediately relaxed.

“Billy! You can't keep doing that!” You whisper-shout at him,trying to catch your breath as people slowly stopped staring.

 All he did was shrug,grab your ass,and kiss you,which you of course kissed back.

When you pulled away from the kiss you went to bite your gum and then realized it was gone.

“You fuckin gum stealer!” You sounded surprised,although you don't know why,he's done this so many times before.

”Hey,I bought the gum,I get to steal the gum from my girlfriend” Billy shrugs,and starts walking with you,his arm around your shoulder as he does so,that cocky little smile on his face as he smacks on the gum.

“Technically not but alright” you mumble,and he snaps his gaze to you,laughs,and looks away.

“Hey so…where were you?” You ask,and he looks slightly confused so you try again.

“You didn't pick me up,you weren't here when I got in,and I didn't see the Camero outside” you stated,slightly playing with his fingers.

“Oh uhm…Neil needed me to do something before I left,so..” you didn't push farther than that. He barely ever told you about his dad.

Always shielding you from him when you came over.

Hell,for the first 4 months of your relationship,you never even came over.

You guys walked over to the classroom that you had for first period,and Billy placed a kiss to your cheek,grabbing another handful of your ass.

“Billy! Were in front of people!” You stated,but didn't move to stop it in any way.

“Lets just skip all day,c'monn i don't wanna listen to miss. Lateo” he drawled out,his eyes twinkling when you nodded.

Your grades were so fucked.

He smiled that fucking shining smile,and wrapped his arm around your waist,as you two walk closer to the parking lot,and closer to his car.

You were always nervous sitting on the hood of his car,never sure about the weight limit,you didn't want to break anything.

Billy never said anything about it,not anymore anyways. He just grabbed under your thighs,and sat you on the hood of the car,trapping you there.

“Feel better? It can't break if I'm holding you” billy's disgruntled voice murmurs,half getting out a cigarette and half holding you.

You nodded slightly,and let him do what he wanted,watching him.

To anyone else,they would just see…well Billy. But to you,you knew who he was under all of that. That's the best way to describe it.

He couldn't find his cigarettes so you grab them out of a pocket,you knew they were in there. And then,you held one up to his lips,and lit it.

You weren't much of a smoker,maybe once in a while,but you definitely liked the way they smelt on Billy after a bad day.

He inhales the smoke and blows it out,his eyebrows relaxing,the tension on his face lifting,and he sighed.

“Is it so bad that as much as I don't wanna go home I have to?” You shook your head at that.

“No it isn't Billy,because you know,if you're not home,who else is he gonna hit?” you said quietly,but yelped in surprise as you were gently grabbed and pulled into a kiss.

You slowly kiss him back,wrapping your hands in his curls,and Billy slowly pulled away,breathing cigarette smoke into your mouth.

You slowly told your head up and blow it out,closing your eyes.

"Fuck your gorgeous” he murmers,his hand tracing lines on you neck. You had an effect on him. He might deny it ‘till the day he dies,but you had an effect. You made his life worth something.

TADAAAA reposts,reblogs and feedback always accepted!

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hiii! I was going through your hand cannons and I really like them so I was wondering if you can do the gang or Ponyboy,Johnny,and Dally(who has something going on with him) with a chicana reader (The rest platonic) since they started in the 1970s Yk, and her and her family don’t get along with the Socs either and got their own business going on and she also is very protective about her friends and caring please :)

Summary: Pony, Johnny and Dally with a chicana reader

Warnings: none

Author's Note: guys i promised myself to do 1 post before playing minecraft im literally so productive. i also made reader have like a family owned diner

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ponyboy, I feel, hangs around a lot of diverse people. He tries to distance himselves from other gangs since a lot of times they end up fighting at a rumble, but technically that's how he met you.

You were serving up milkshakes for a group of girls in your family's diner when Pony walked in, beaten and bruised from a rumble. You try and keep your distance but still make sure he's ok.

He's kind of in awe at your kindness, he knows if he saw a kid greaser walk into a store in his state most people would tell him to buzz off. You gave him a milkshake on the house even though he tried to offer to pay.

After that he came back when you were off your shift and asked if you wanted to go to the movies. Please say yes he spent all his courage trying to do that LOL.

He's really intrested in your life, you've got a lot of luxuries that he doesn't have but he's glad your so down to earth and not like the socs.

He's a little embarrassed when he gets picked on by socs when you're around but by god he's sooo starstruck when you start cussing them out.

Obviously the socs weren't expecting that, so even though they tried to insult you back they were a little thrown off so they left quickly.

Pony thanked you endlessly and invited you to go meet his gang whenever you wanted.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny met you through Ponyboy, but really on accident.

You and Pony were walking around town when Johnny saw you two. Originally he wasn't going to go up to you two because he thought you two were on a date, but he was genuinely intrested in who you were because he's never seen you before.

He goes up to you two and makes some small talk with Ponyboy before turning to you and asking who you are. You introduce yourself to him and invite them both back to your diner.

He's genuinely really intrested in your life and Ponyboy tells him all these stories that make you sound like a superhero and so he's very much idolizing you in his head.

He starts trying to hangout with you more and more after that, making the diner your hangout and chatting to you while you're serving.

Your family sees you two together at the diner so often that they offered him a job that would be easy. He almost took it but realized he might not be the best one for it.

He always makes sure that no one bothers you, like socs or even greasers. Even if, in the end, you can stand your ground he doesn't like having you do too much.

He's so excited to introduce you to Dallas, he thinks that Dally would find you as cool as he does, but he definitely has a meeting with Pony about whether you two would get along or not.

There's a lot of back and forth but they decide that introducing you to Dally wouldn't be that bad and you two might actually become good friends.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas was introduced to you by Pony and Johnny. They took him to your diner while you were nearing the end of your shift, so you could see them.

He didn't know he was going to meet anyone until you came up to them and they were all smiles. They introduced you as if you were a movie star.

He was a bit stand-offish at first because he was confused and a little bit jealous of the fact he wasn't the tuffest person to Pony and Johnny anymore.

But you were patient and calm because you knew he was Pony and Johnny's close friend and they also briefed you on the fact he could get a little crass.

You tried very hard to create a good impression and it ended up working, he thinks your a 'pretty solid broad', and he doesn't dislike you.

The only problem he has with you is that you could possibly make Pony and Johnny a target for socs, although you assured him that wasn't the case.

You had developed quite a reputation for 'verbally assualting' the socs that tried their shit on Pony, and they always saw you hanging out with greasers that was good friends with Dally so they never messed with you.

He doesn't believe you for your reputation until he sees it in action. He's so shocked about it too because you look pretty and harmless, he pats you on the back (really aggressively too), afterwards and congratulates you.

When he can, he takes you, Johnny, and Pony out on long drives, like a roadtrip and you all just talk about whatever and get wasted and crash at Buck's (after a lot of quarrelling with Darry by Pony)

You 4 have made yourself into quite a little group, you're like the quad everyone knows and talks about and warns people to watch out for.

[unicorn-gallerexy]

Howdy, I totally mean to post more and didn't do any of that but then i got stuck with this idea and getting it out so here ya go, i want it out my face. There will be part 2, but i need a break bc this too so long and is longer than i wanted it. Only mildly proofread, rada rada, yknow the drill

Word count: 12.7K (i managed to hit the end of like 3 keep notes, i ain't ever done that)

CW: (technical) Homewrecker!Atsumu x Wife! Reader, smut, (kinda/justified) cheating, manipulation and mild threats (not from Atsumu), open marriage (you weren't vibing with it), trash treatment from husband, Long af, Atsumu being mad bc wtf is up with your husband?

One for Another

When your husband asked his question, excited just after coming home, you thought you couldn't hear. Or maybe it was that you didn't understand?

Either way, you asked him to repeat himself.

"I want to open our relationship. It sounds like a good idea, yeah?" He smiles, like there's nothing wrong with his sudden asking, and the look you give him is blank before it obviously reads upset.

"Why?" You steady your voice a lot easier than you steady your mind. You were hurt, this was so out of the blue. Yes, he had voiced a bit of an issue with your extra few pounds, or how you didn't dress up more often, or how you didn't have as much sex anymore (which was more his fault but he blamed you and the weight you put on) but you were working in it. You started working out in your own home because he was insistent that other people, like his coworkers, could see you let yourself go. You worked on being consistent with skincare and wearing more clothes that flattered you. You were actually looking quite a bit better than you had before. At least you and your friends thought so...

"Because it's a great idea?" He says it so easy as if you should be understanding. Seeing as you don't look pleased, his smile drops and he heaves a sigh so heavy at the thought of explaining himself. "Look you and i haven't... Been on the same page for a while. You and I just aren't matching up right now, so i figured it would be good to open the relationship so we can fill in those gaps."

"What gaps? I've been working on myself for damn near two months now, solely because you asked. What am i not doing for you?"

"Jesus Christ, this isn't about you. It's about us being happy, and im not happy. Im also not just trying to leave you high and dry but im sure you're not happy either." He says the part about you not being happy as if it doesn't matter to him. His emphasis was on him not being happy, and the part of not leaving you sounded more like a chore than a willful choice.

He swept you off your feet and promised a life a comfort. He was working on a promotion, he complimented you regularly and the sex wasn't bad at all. You fell for his charm easy, and he seemingly fell for you just as hard. After a few years, he asked you to marry him and made it known you could depend on him completely. Your job was basically down the drain by the time the wedding happened due to higher positions deciding the right way didn't make them enough money fast enough. He said you could trust him to take care of you, that he'd keep you happy and comfy, that he didn't mind a housewife for a while. You let yourself fall into that role, it wasn't hard. The house he bought was sizeable but not too big, the chore list was never too long and you did indeed live comfortably.

Over time, through his several promotions to an executive seat, you moved into bigger and better, all while he coaxed you into being his lovely little housewife and homemaker. Anytime you talked of going back, he'd mention how the job market wasn't the best, reports of customers abusing staff locally, rumors he "heard" here or there about owners and managers of places you were looking into, and always mentioning how you complained of every job you had. How you hated working, but how you were basically just taking care of yourself and he was taking care of you by working and giving you a card of his he didn't need to keep track of.

This was more temporary than you thought it was.

In the last two promotions, he had been given an assistant that always seemed a little too close for comfort. If you ever brought it up, he'd only mention how he married you and how she worked for him, so he couldn't be cheating on you. He blamed your insecurities and said you were forcing your own self doubt on him, and how that wasn't fair. At first the responses seemed loving, in their own way, before they turned angry. He'd shout about you being insecure, how you were trying to accuse him of things you had no proof of. He'd leave the house and even when he came back, he rarely ever apologized. He'd simply place more money onto the card and talk to you as he normally would. He pretended to care with a kiss on the forehead and half holding you in bed every so often.

That didn't stop him from pointing out your mounting flaws over time. It didn't stop him from refusing any sort of advances you made, day off or not. Didn't stop him not inviting you to company events as he had in the past and instead saying he was going with *her instead because "family isn't invited this time around" as if there weren't pictures posted later of his coworkers with their wives who you know don't work for the company at the same event.

You would've left a long time ago, really. But he wasn't wrong in saying you were insecure. Or that he'd leave you high and dry. He managed to manipulate you into not having a job for years, which doesn't look the greatest when applying for new ones, which created your dependency on him for financial reasons but he also had preyed on the parts of yourself you couldn't stand, made you feel like he and he alone loved you, like no one else would or could love you. You defended his words when your friends brought up concern by citing that he was right, as no one had really come up to you to flirt or asked you out prior to him so there wasn't really much competition for you. And, at the time, he at least liked you.

All for it to be thrown back in your face now. The waves of realization hit like you're in a losing boxing match. You feel your eyes burn but refuse to let any tears fall. He, unfortunate as it may be, can still read you at least a little. He comes and wraps his arms around you in a hug that makes you feel slimy, but you don't pull away as there's no where else to go really. "Listen baby, this isn't just a good thing for me. It's a good decision for both of us. I'm not giving you what you want, you aren't giving me what i want, don't you think it's better to find those things in other people and still have each other to come home to? At least give it a shot." He insists. It's obvious to you now, he doesn't care about you finding someone, only about him being allowed to do as he wants without being called a name that fits.

Part of you want to ask, but you figure you won't get answers if you do. You feel backed into a corner with no real way to lash out. So, you give a reluctant and strained yes, giving in to your defeat in hopes it hurts a little less. He kiss the back of your head and quickly slips away from you, grabbing his keys and saying something about being back later before slipping out of the door. You hear it lock, you hear the car start and drive off, and looking at the time on the clock in the stove behind you, it now reads 7:38pm. You could swear he turned his head to look at it when he was behind you.

The weekend comes in shortly after, he says he's going on a trip and you don't bother to ask where to or when he'll be back. You're already distant and its only been a few days, not that he cares at all. He packs and leaves in a hurry, only sending a text of "I love you" about an hour later. You've yet to tell anyone, feeling overwhelmed with shame and stupidity at not seeing any signs earlier on to avoid this. Or maybe because you feel ashamed that you couldn't keep your husband satisfied? That he was seduced by someone you'd consider younger and prettier than you'll ever be. You're not that old, nor are you bad looking but that's not how you see it. Your eyes only seem to find more and more inadequacies each time you look into a mirror. From the bags darkening under your eyes to your hair becoming more tangled with your lack of care, from the flaring breakouts across your face from stress and ditching your routine to the weight you worked off coming back with friends because you wallow on the couch and dropped your workout routine.

What was the point?

You had nothing else to work towards. Sure you barely looked different from before him, and if you got back into all of it, you'd look basically the same as you did then, maybe a bit better, but what would be the point? No one wanted you before he did, he literally had no competition for your affection or attention. The only thing that's changed that you can't undo is the passing of time. Sure, in the grand scheme of things you really weren't that much older than you were then but, if no one wanted you then, who would want you now?

You couldn't give an answer, and thus your brain concluded with: no one.

You eventually wind up inviting friends over about 2 weeks into his trip and, not having heard from you for longer, they jump at the chance to see you. When they arrive, and you answer the door, disheveled in sweats, they can see that you're not holding up well and the sweet smiles and loud hi's drop. Being asked what's wrong sets off the water works, not having cried in or out of his presence made the dam behind your eyes too full, and concerned friendly voices opened the gates. You step aside to let them in and they immediately hug you, telling you to calm down enough to at least tell them what's wrong but the sobs are violent, shaking your body completely and taking the strength from your legs. They guide you to the couch, sit at your sides and tell you to cry it out, seeing as every time you try and speak, it's unintelligible.

When you manage to calm yourself enough in your friends arms, you don't lift your gaze from the floor, explaining why you haven't answered calls or texts and why you just spent a literal hour crying into them. To say their furious is an understatement. They shout question after question, most at how he could do this and feel nothing. You cry into your hands, and that's when they calm down, starting to throw suggestions, the first being divorce. You remind them of how he basically holds all your financials, your place to live, and a solid position in his company. Your friends sigh as they realize that leaving, at least now, isn't a real option. After a moment of quiet thinking, and soft sniffles, your first best friend grabs you by both shoulders with a smile. "Open relationship, right? That means you can also do what you want. We can get you back on track with all your routines and go out, take you with us on singles night!" She's beaming even if you don't look the most into the idea, your other best friend seeming to voice your thoughts for you.

"As if he'll actually let her have another relationship outside of him with no repercussions. Be real, May. He'd flip his shit because he just wanted to go out and fuck anything that breathes without being called a cheater" May pouts, having already thought of that in a more minor capacity.

"I figured that, Kura. We don't have to tell him shit. He's not even being that discreet about it, with the 2 of us helping her out, he'll never know." She leans to speak over your shoulder to Kura before looking back at you with soft, loving, hopeful eyes that you feel you haven't experienced in a while. "Maybe we can actually find you a real man who'll treat you right and wont do this shit. You don't deserve to just wallow here by your self." Her hands cup your face as she awaits an answer and you shake your head in her hands.

"No one wanted me before, May. Who's gonna want me now? I'm older and-"

"Still hot, at least when you're not distressed." Kura says from behind you, smiling with some sort of support for the plan. You shake your head as May keeps hold of you.

"Okay but everything is here, workout equipment and-"

"We'll take you to the gym with us! Kura has been wanting to get in there for a while but she keeps bailing on me. I'll take you two with me and then we're all obligated to go. We'll go on spa days, I'll call you so you don't have to acknowledge him while you do your routine here. Trust me, thought out much more than you think." May beams, Kura chiming in about possibly just moving rooms so you have space if you haven't already. Both paw at you and basically beg, saying it'll at least be good just to get out for a little while every day even if you aren't man hunting. You tear up again, and when asked why, you say you thought they'd me mad at you, tell you i told you so or something because you didn't listen when they spoke up. You're given the warmest embrace you've had in a minute as they tell you it's not your fault, it's his. He preyed on you, just to throw you away for nothing substantial. You cry, and say ok, agreeing to go with them and along with their plan, causing them both so squeal with joy before May goes to bolt upstairs.

"Where are you going?" You sniffle, caught in Kura's arms as you look up the stairs.

"To run you a proper bath. We're having an at home spa night now. You need it." She scrunches her nose in the way that makes you laugh and knowing you still have some happiness makes them happy.

The night goes on as they wish, both helping wash your hair and your face, saying you need a break as they pamper you and do their best to drive away the sadness in your heart, or at least distract from it. They help you move things into another room, opting to watch terrible B and latter alphabet movies, doing your face routines together and eating proper food since you've seen gorging on junk food for a while now. They opt to stay over for a few days when you tell them your husband wont be home for another 3 weeks. Both girls help you clean up, do laundry, and essentially reset your home to brinf back a real sense of normalcy. May sits and picks out a couple gym appropriate outfits, laying them on top of the dresser, before they leave you a couple days before your husband is supposed to be back. They kiss your forehead, hug you tight and tell you the day of a group gym trip so you look forward to it. Kura notes she wont back out if you don't, putting a sense of responsibility on you to ensure you don't bail last minute.

When your husband comes back, he finds you lounging about in the other room, only to ask a question you truly dreaded hearing. "Hey, I can still have the bedroom to myself for a bit right?" Behind the doorway, at his side you can see another shadow in the sunlight that bathes the house and a feminine giggle from behind him. You simply wave him off, a half hearted mumble sending him on his way to the bedroom, girl in tow. You hear the door shut, lock clicking into place as you curl into yourself and text your friends. They send you texts to just forget about it as much as possible, you telling them it's hard when you can hear them through the walls and know he feels no sense of remorse.

That was what killed you most, the fact he was doing it all and seemed to feel nothing for you. No remorse, no guilt or shame, not even the tiniest bit of pity even if it would piss you off. You realized quick he didn't feel anything negative about it, but that didn't mean it didn't suck to have such a blatant display of what you could only feel was disrespect. Then again, you're surprised it didn't happen earlier.

Your affluent living situation meant a very nice, expensive gym wasn't too far away. May and Kura didn't live in the expensive part of the city but they had good jobs and kept up with the monthly payment plan that even you and your more frugal upbringing balked at when you got the sign up paper at the desk. Once paying the overcharged fee and getting your membership card, May lead you and Kura around to show you the facilities the gym had to offer and blabbed about the famous and influential people she's seen in passing from actors to local businessmen to athletes. Kura and you keep up as she taps your arm for your attention. "I'm kinda starting to regret coming with May." She whispered, no malice behind as you nod and hum in agreement.

You feel exposed even if your fully clothed. The sports bra and crop you normally wear to workout at home suddenly feeling to short to be worn outside (even if you've done so a million times) and the yoga shorts holding your ass nicely feeling all too tight to be worn in public. You can't help the shy stance you keep as May guides you past a the sauna, pool, and cryo rooms towards the side of the building, keeping one arm wrapped around yourself and the other down at your side. Kura is dressed in similar pants, but her top is a loose cotton shirt you wish you'd gone for instead. May, being the one used to being here, is in a good sports bra and yoga shorts due to the weather. Once her tour is over, she guides you into the large workout room, complete with just about any and every machine you'd need for every part of your body. You wanna vomit.

You know you left to get away from your currently shitty home life but now you actually kinda regret coming. May turns with a big smile that falls quick when she takes note of yours and Kura's faces. She keeps hopeful, taking you both by the hands over to the treadmills that face out of the window. "We can start here so that you two can get a bit more comfy, yea?" You both nod and hop on, the 3 of you starting at the same pace and making mild small talk.

After you and Kura seem to loosen up, noted by you finally dropping your arm from around yourself, May takes the opportunity to switch it up and get you guys through some stretches. From there, it's basically downhill. May is fit, not annoying about it and it shows. She puts you and Kura to your limits and genuinely encourages you the entire time in such a way that's hard to be mad at. You're at it for hours until the final stretch for your cool down when she beams "And we're done! That was fun, wasn't it?"

"I regret.. My decision." Kura pants.

"Fun isn't what id give it but i mean..." You trail off with a weak wave of your hand on the floor next to Kura as May hops up to drag you both down the hall and to the sauna. When you both express dismay over the sound of sitting in a hot, moist room on a hot day after being worked to near death, May assures you that you'll just both feel so much better after and if you're so inclined, she'll take you to the actual pool for a bit after. You and Kura grimace at the thought of being more openly exposed than you already are at one another as you follow May and say you'll both pass on that part today.

Out of clothes, wrapped in towels, May hands off your clothing to one do the workers before noting to you as they leave that they're gonna wash them. You and Kura share a surprised look at her as she pushes you both into the (thankfully) empty sauna. She does everything to set it up and soon enough the room is hot and steamy, her eyes fixing to continuously check on you two as you close your eyes and drop your head to relax in the warm, wet heat. "So how long can we be expected to be alone in here?" Kura asks, scooting to put just a bit more distance between you two which you're thankful for.

"With how long we've worked out, not too much longer. But we don't have to leave or anything like that. We can basically stay in here for as long as we want, though it is recommended to leave at some point to prevent overheating." She sighs.

"With how much we have to pay for a monthly membership, we better be able to stay in here for as long as we want." You complain, Kura letting out a small laugh as she lays her head against the wall. She and May look at you, your head still down and eyes still closed.

"Black card for your thoughts, lovely?" Kura mutters, you shake your head before answering.

"Just thinking about home, unfortunately. Thinkin about how i let it get here honestly." Kura pushes your arm and you look at your friends, both sets of eyes stern but full of care as they note him and whatever he's doing isn't worth any more of tour head space. Kura throwing the idea to take him for what he's useful for and buy everyone lunch after, naming off pricy places your younger self could only dream of going. You laugh at her, especially as may joins in with the new ultra luxury bakery that just opened up and is known to be pure Instagram fodder and not actually good baked goods. Just as you near snort with laughter at their suggestions, about to cut in with something cheaper and actually good, the door opens and causes you three to scoot a bit closer to one another in a corner and 4 actually fairly familiar faces trail in, shortly followed by a duo that you can tell aren't with the prior 4. Your husband's work and you being his previous arm candy piece at work events let you passionately shake hands with plenty of elites, faces recognizable to you easy. The 4 who are making conversation amongst themselves are athletes, specifically the (debatably) most popular members of the team. Koutarou Bokuto, Shoyo Hinata, Kiyoomi Sakusa, and Atsumu Miya.

The other 2 are businessmen that you've seen at damn near every single even you went to with your husband, higher ups from a company his worked with. They were always hitting you in the worst way so your nose unconsciously crinkles before you turn to Kura and May. You aren't too surprised, May did say plenty of the wealthy who live close by here and even some who don't come to this gym just because of how nice and/or exclusive it is. You hope somewhere inside yourself that the duo doesn't notice you at all, as that would help the first day back to a workout routine all the better.

Of course, you cant ever have what you want. The universe curses you by making one of the idiot duo loudly recognize your left shoulder tattoo of a chubby kitten playing with stars from various franchises, like animal crossing fragments and Rosalina's stars from Mario games. "Oh shit! I remember that dumb little tattoo! Y/n, how have you been babe?" He says. You roll your eyes hard enough to hurt as you feel every pair of eyes in this small room land on you. You force a smile and turn your head, giving a strained hi and fine. He and his friend start to bombard you with questions at your minor acknowledgement. Your husband, what he's been up to and things like that. You answer most, half with lies as Kura leans over your back and tells them to call him if they've got "such a hard on for him" instead of harassing you.

Kura has taken on most of your lost bite while you work to get it back, and you find yourself plenty thankful for it. You don't miss the small snorts of laughter from the other side of sauna and neither do the duo on the other side of you. Not liking to feel any sort of embarrassment, and somehow deciding that the wife of their business colleague is their prime target, the second one opens his mouth with venom. "You know Y/n, i have friends who work with your husband. We haven't seen you at any of the company get togethers anymore, yknow? But we have seen him with this real pretty dame on his arm. You make him get a replacement so you don't have to be there or what?" They way you stiffen is visible and your brain short circuts on what to do next for a half second. Both have this smug smile on their face as everyone looks wide eyed at the two, and they look at you.

You stand, eyes lifting from the ground where you had planted them during talking to them initially. "The fact you two are so mad because you cant even get escorts to sleep with you, much less me when im married so you go around saying shit like that is honestly pathetic." Your hand slaps the one who opened his mouth before you can rethink it, turning on your heels to leave at you hear not just your friends but the other men in the room giving them quite the reprimanding as you float your way to where you can pick up your freshly washed clothes. You must've been in there for longer than you thought, as they're set out with your membership card on top to show ownership. You're quick to change as you hear voices outside looking for you. You step out and toss the towel into the bin they have out for them and your friends rush to your side and try to comfort you but you simply tell them to get dressed so you can go and eat.

They're dressed in a flash and following you out the front door, you never noticing the sets of eyes that manage to trail your form as you storm out with your friends hot on your ass, wiping your eyes. Once in the car, there's a beat of silence as they seem to try and find what would be the rihht thing to say after that. What do they say? Your tears don't wait, a uncontrolled sob escaping you before your hand covers your mouth to hold back the rest of the noise as you cry. He's so brazen about it, of course other people notice but the last thing you wanted was to be confronted with it anywhere else. You're hugged from two directions, hands rubbing your back and arms to soothe you as May says she wont blame you for bailing after that. You shake your head, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and taking the tissue Kura passes you from her bag to wipe your eyes and blow your nose before you close your eyes. Clearing your throat, you croak. "I'm still going to do it... I'm not gonna let this stop me... Even if it sucks..." Kura pats you on the back, saying she'll still be with you and May clapping at you not letting it throw you down without a fight.

You get to pick lunch. A nice sit down hot pot spot that's having a slow day, so they wave the typical time limit they have and sit you three in a cozy booth. You loose track of time, your friends being efficient in distracting your mind from the day's sour turn, laughing and eating to replenish some energy. You three can see the door, and have made a game of betting (without money of course) on if the groups and couples who come in have ever actually been to a hot pot place or if they came in because they think it's "exotic". It's a dumb little game that results in fun banter. Lo and behold, the bell advice the door dings again and in walk... The same 4 athletes who basically saw you getting outted as being cheated on. The MSBY black jackles, with the rest of the team in tow. The owner working the register guides them to the large booth in the opposite corner from you and your friends, who ask if you wanna go after seeing the 4 familiar faces. You shake your head, saying you're having fun and betting that the extra shy, probable assistant, hasn't been to hot pot before as you slip a leafy green veggie in your mouth. You're friends smile and agree with you're bet, and you let your night continue.

The three of you fall easy back into yourselves as the waiter comes to top up your broth for the 3rd time, never noticing the pair of eyes that seem to linger along your form here and there. You don't even notice how the same eyes trail you once again as you leave out with your friends, looking considerably happier than when you left the gym. He knows he shouldn't be looking so hard, but he just cant seem to understand. Why would a man who married you not want you or not want to show you off?

You keep to your word and go back three days later, muscles sore the day after from how hard May worked you both but you return nonetheless to join her again as she says you'll both get used to it and she'll keep the routine the same for a while to help speed up that process. She beams at both of your forlorned faces as she makes you both get down on the floor for your stretches.

She keeps to her word, and you get back into your prior habits as your friends remind you that self care shouldn't be tied to the scumbag you live with as they have now deemed him. Your days with them are your highlights, whether it's just lunch and the gym or if they come over to insult your husband in the guest room you've moved into. Your gym trips are a bit better for your mental health tho, having made a couple of friends through May's bubbly personal skills and being away from your husband's revolving door of women. You tend to avoid anyone who has more consistent contact with your husband or his job to avoid any more incidents like your first day and that seems to do you well, though you've of course run into several big names that have worked with his company or him once or twice. You don't mind those, especially since some are constant faces anytime you go to be whipped into shape by May.

Some of the more consistent faces you see are those of Athletes, specifically coming across the MSBY team again and again. The 4 who initially witnessed your sauna incident either didn't remember it or simply never seemed to show they did, none giving you any odd looks or pitied glances any time your eyes seemed to catch theirs in passing. You were always the first to turn away, never catching on to the way one of them seemed to stare. At least not at first. The more often you came, the more you saw them and vice versa. The more you saw them, the more he could stare. The more he could stare, the more you seemed to catch him and while he would avert his gaze elsewhere or focus of the weight in his hands, he'd still eventually find a way to stare at you again all whilst taking pride in the way you seemed to fluster under his gaze. That man was Atsumu Miya.

Of course, his blatant "eye fucking" as Sakusa would call it didn't go unnoticed by the others, Bokuto and Hinata scolding him for essentially hitting on a married woman. When away from other who knew nothing about the information they had heard in the sauna, Atsumu defends himself. "He's cheatin on 'er anyways and i haven't even said anything. Why can't i look?" The others always reply that it's not the point.

"They might be trying to work it out?" Hinata mutters, making all of them turn their nose and Atsumu respond with a "Fuckin hope not." The boys were raised on better teachings so, even if they were reprimanding their friend for his borderline inappropriate behavior, they still don't like the idea of some poor, pretty girl "working things out" with a man that obviously doesn't care about her. Atsumu's typical defense doesn't hold up for long though. As time passes, the more he sees you, the more he tries to find ways to talk to you. From bringing you and your friends water to engage in small talk under the guise of being kind before he's called back to managing to catch you and your friends as you're about to leave some other amenity after making sure he worked out for just a bit longer, saying it was to not slack close to a game, to be sure he caught you at the tail end of your swim or sauna sit. Atsumu continues to argue that there's nothing wrong with making small talk or incidentally running into someone in a shared public space.

"You don't even know what incidentally means, homewrecker." Sakusa shoots, Atsumu having an aghast expression at the word. Though, with more time and the tiny tidbits of info he learns about you personally, the more the insult seems to not matter. You're a nice convo partner, and he's just being nice, right?

Of course, you have other obligations to attend to aside from the gym. You know he still expects you to clean the house, that damn bedroom you can't find it in yourself to even look at much less sleep in anymore included, and make him (and guests he brings) food. You'd refuse if he didn't opt for the coercive method of throwing the fact you don't have a job right now in your face, guests there or not. You just go with it at this point to avoid talking to him, moving away or giving minimal acknowledgement when he tries to soothe you with empty hugs and worthless words. So the supermarket is your other safe haven. No hard work, no husband or women he's fucking, no real stress aside from not finding something you're craving. Crossing into the refrigerated section causes a shiver, eyes scanning over price tags you've never gotten used to looking at. As you reach out for a pack of chicken with a decent tag, a stronger hand brushes in front of your to cross in the other direction. Looking up reveals a familiar blonde headed athlete who seems to beam at seeing you, as if he didn't see you a couple aisles ago.

"Hey, been a couple days. How ya been?" He asks, taking his hand away and gesturing for you to grab your thing first.

"Been alright, resting up before my May drags us back. You?" Conversation comes easy, he's noticed you're kinda quiet so he takes the lead in asking questions and talking about his own things. He's careful, even subconsciously, about asking certain questions as to not put you in a sour mood. You ask him the occasional question as he seems to follow you around, noting he doesn't have anything else to do except his own personal grocery trip, like about his games and team. He has no issue answering, giving the occasional jab at them and joking with you to make you giggle behind your hand as you both float around the store until you both have to check out. When he realizes that the window is closing on the most in depth conversation he's ever had with you, he spings an invitation as you both exit the store. "Umm... Hey, do you maybe wanna come over to mine later? To keep talking? I think you're actually pretty interesting." He says quickly, trying to make sure you don't think what he feels you are.

You smile, laughing softly. "Your reputation is starting to sound a bit more true. You always invite girls over to 'talk' after you grocery shop with them?" He smiles and shakes his head, free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nah, just you." He flirts, and liking the feel of the missing male attention, you agree. He comes and tells you where his place is, and upon looking at it typed out, you realize that it's actually not far from where you and him live. Like, just a bit farther, just almost out of sight due to the curve, down the long street that your house sits at. You can walk to his house. When you tell him as much, he laughs. "Small world, huh? I'll leave the door open then." He shoots you a wink before heading on his way to his car ad you do yours.

When you get home, you don't speak to your husband. This is now normal. You simply put away the groceries you bought save for what you cook after. Once you've rushed through making a meal you have no real intentions of eating, you simply shoot him an "I'm heading out." Before slipping out of the door and taking a slow, leisurely stroll down to Atsumu's place. It takes about 20 minutes at that pace, and once in front of the door, you get butterflies. That old familiar flutter in the base of your tummy makes you hesitate to knock but you're a big girl, so you reach your hand up to give a few solid pounds to the heavy door. His place is nice, you've seen every house in the neighborhood at least once but you never really knew who lived in them. You were already housewife status before you moved here so you rarely came outside or interacted with any neighbors except next door and directly across the street.

The door opens with the slightly sticky sound of the seal meant to keep the outside out, and in the way of your view into the luxury home stands a broad chest. Your eyes get stuck for a half second before they trail up to his face, bright smile already splayed across his face. "Well howdy neighbor." You've heard him speak so the accent wasn't low on you but there sure are some words that really bring it out. You bow your head with your greeting and he turns himself to the side to let you in. "What took so long? I was waitin for ya." He asks jokingly, and you smile as you tell him about having to cook before you left because if you didn't do it, who would? He hears how lighthearted you make it sound, and he swallows the frown before it gets to appear on his face. You're keeping your head high to cope and it makes him wanna gag as his eyes trail up you, seeing no real flaw as to why some man wouldn't wanna be with you. He thinks you're real pretty, gorgeous even. You're also smart, funny and pretty quick witted when your head's not in the clouds. He knows it's a little odd to feel so strongly for the situation of a woman you just met, but his mama taught him so much better than that so when confronted with shit like this, it's hard to fathom. Even more so when the subject of it is right in front of him, oh so beautiful with your-

"Atsumu? Earth to pro athlete, need you back down here, big guy. Atsumu?" Shit. He had zoned out looking at you as you spoke so when he shakes his head and politely asks you to repeat the last thing you said, he feels awful. You seen a little too used to it as you shrug it off, which he feels makes it worse, and ask again. "I said: Did you have a plan when you invited me over or were you just gonna go with the flow and see what happens?" You stand with your hands behind your back so to not touch anything, and he struggles with his mind wandering as he motions for you to sit down and quickly jogs into his kitchen.

"I mean, we had a pretty nice time talking at the grocery store so i figured we could just pick up where we left off." He calls before coming to set a glass of lemonade down in front of you on the coffee table. "And if you stay long enough, i wouldn't mind you joining me for dinner?" It comes out like a question, you've been here for all of 2 minutes max and he's already inviting you to stay longer. He's so eager in a way you cant help but giggle and agree. You watch as he sits on the other side of the couch before starting to engage you in some bit of conversation from before. What you pick up on is that he constantly tries to get you to talk more and he pays actual attention to what you say. Anytime you quiet down out of habit, he asks you another question. The conversation hops from life experiences, to vacations, to upbringings. Anything to get you to talk to him more, anything to learn as much as possible about you, anything to make you smile and giggle like he's getting so enamored with.

He can't keep convincing himself that he's just being nice.

Not as he moves just a bit closer every time he sits back down from refilling your drinks. Not as he keeps trailing his eyes up and down your form when you laugh hard enough to close your eyes. Not when he has to fend off the mild shutter that slides up his back at certain words you say. Not as he continues to mentally say you're basically in the right if you were to do something outside of your marriage, and how he'd offer himself up in a heartbeat despite the guilt he'd been raised to have. Maybe if he finds out just a bit more about your garbage life partner, he can get rid of all the guilt he has. So he asks as you sip at the wine he offered up along with dinner, citing he's not as good as his brother in the kitchen but he does know a bit.

"Hey, i understand if it's still kinda touchy and you really don't have to answer if you don't wanna but, im just having a hard time wrapping my head 'round it." He starts, and your stomach turns as you know what he's gonna ask. But you sigh and down the rest of the glass, feeling It's better to get it out there now rather than feel like you're manipulating the situation later. The feeling of being wanted for a bit was nice while it lasted though. You set the glass down next to your empty plate and turn to face him, questioning when he went from the other side of the couch to only a couple inches away, motioning for him to continue. He ponders on how to say it without seeming insensitive before he sighs and just blurts it out. "Why the hell is your husband cheating on you? I genuinely can't understand." He stops himself before he goes on a tangent about how pretty you are or how nice you are or how he'd treat you plenty better.

You feel your eyes burn. You thought you'd be over it by now but maybe you had just pushed the thoughts away, far enough that it was basically outta sight, outta mind. You blink quickly to get rid of the tears and once Astumu catches the glossy look, he shakes his head. He opens his mouth to tell you to forget about him asking but you out your hand up to stop him. He fears you might just up and walk out, looking like a kicked puppy along with you as you take a deep breath to compose yourself. You open your eyes and put your hand down, speaking before he can. "He wanted an open relationship, so he's not actually cheating on me." Saying it feels gross, and if you took your eyes off the floor you'd see Atsumu with a face that agrees. Not because of the open relationship thing, because of how you phrased it.

"So you didn't want the open relationship?" He asks for clarification and though you and Atsumu don't know each other as well as you know your best friends, he's a comfortable presence that feels empathetic to you in a way, despite feeling like he's pitying you too but that's just your mind talking there. You shake your head, dropping it into your hands to rub away the tension that's building your temples.

"He sprung it on me out of no where, said i wasn't making him happy anymore. Saying i had 'let myself go' and whatnot. I was working on it, really. Working out at home, keeping up self care routines, trying to initiate even though that isn't normal for me. He just... Didn't want me anymore." You're quiet as you talk, a small sniffle in the middle of your statement tugs hard at his heart. Well now he can't possibly feel bad. He asks you about the dudes at the sauna the first time he saw you and lets you explain that they work with with your husband under a different company. "They've probably seen him with his pretty little coworker who he's been sleeping with. By the sound of it, they aren't the most discreet about it so it's just embarrassing for me. They're the types to get pissy when turned down. He rolls his eyes hard enough to hurt, feeling like his brain is throbbing in his skull over how dumb it sounds. Your husband, he colleagues, whatever whore he's screwing that most likely knew who you were and that the idiot was married. It gives the most sour ass milk taste to him.

"And what about you? Since he forced it, wouldn't it be good to get out and see someone?" He asks softly, particularly because he's yet to see you truly conversing with another man in the time he's been talking to you. He's also never heard you talk about anyone else, not that it would truly be any of his business but it just intrigues him. You simply shake your head again though.

"He's... He's the only man over ever been with. We met when i was young, got engaged and married pretty quick but i wasn't the prettiest thing in the group so he had no real competition. When that happened i kinda just stayed inside and didn't bother even after starting the working out thing with May again. I mean, if no one wanted me then, why would they now and I've just gotten older?" Your insecurities have shown before but Astumu's about to start asking some real serious questions about how your husband treats you if you think so low of yourself.

"So why not leave? I mean it's obvious he doesn't care 'bout ya, and you don't seem like the type to stick around for shit like this." He admits its a bit assumptive but he can read people pretty well, and he'd bet on this assumption for sure.

"He married me when i was young and kinda took over most things. Pre and post me leaving my job and agreeing to be his fulltime housewife. I kinda can't... At least not right now." You admit. Atsumu has genuinely never wanted the throttle a man so badly. He's basically holding you hostage so he cant look bad but is forcing decisions on you whether you like them or not so he can do as he wants. Yea, he definitely doesn't feel bad anymore.

"I want you." It's a simple statement but it has you whipping your head to look at him and the serious face he has that somehow also looks like he's bored almost.

"What?"

"You asked who'd want you since time has passed and stuff, right? Me. I do." Your eyes widen as he continues. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous to be honest. Inside and out. You're funny and sweet when you're comfortable, you've got a good heart and 's all bundled up in this lovely, lovely body o' yers." He starts to smile mid way through his declaration as he notices your dace get more and more flustered. His accent seems to get just a bit thicker as he talks faster towards the end, enthusiasm radiating from him as he closes that tiny 2 inch gap between you two on the couch so your thighs touch. You're shocked honestly. It felt like he liked you but your self doubt said it was just pity, but you also felt there was nothing wrong with being a bit delusional and taking what you could get from a nice man giving you attention. You stutter, trying to get something out about how you feel but he hold up his hands and leans back a bit, never scooting away from you though. "If ya don't feel that way about me, i understand even if it hurts a little. But I would love to show you how a proper man should be treating someone as beautiful as you." He's laying it on thick but you feel he's being honest about your ability to back out if you want.

You still can't manage to figure out the words you want to say to him. You don't really think you'd know where to start, being the way he didn't seem judgmental towards you or the fact he apparently had actual, genuine interest in you. So you hug him instead. He's surprised for a moment but quickly hugs you back, finding that you're so much softer, warmer than he expected this close. He nose catches whiffs of your soap and shampoo, you even smell gorgeous. And your husband didn't want this? Fucking idiot. You pull back after a while, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Thank you, but... You don't..." You start how you want, but you cant seem to find the correct way to finish. Atsumu understands from the way you avert your eyes, flustered and shy in a way he finds all too cute on you. He puts his hand under your chin to gently redirect your gaze back to his, confident smirk still splayed across his face. It's a reassuring look really, one that says he really does want to do what he said.

"If you don't want to, that's fine. I understand, but don't think that i don't want to. Because i really fucking do." His voice is low due to his proximity, leaning his forehead against yours as he searches for any sign of you pulling away or rejecting his advances. It's like a little game behind your eyes plays out before you opt to say fuck it and close the small gap between your mouths. He reciprocates immediately, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your head as your hand begin to wind themselves in his soft blonde locks. The kiss goes on for what makes your lungs feel like eternity, but your brain feel like mere seconds. When the burn in your chest is too much, you pull back and take a deep breath, letting the oxygen take your brain through thoughts of this really being a good idea. Your eyes scan Atsumu, from the lidded gaze to the slightly swollen lips to the heaving chest and from what your eyes take in, your brain says it's a great idea. I mean, if he's willing to give you what you're missing, why deny yourself?

He stands up and holds out his hand to you, letting you take it as you ask about where he's leading you to. "Well i did say i'd be proper bout it, right? Can't take you on the couch first time around, that comes later." You note how confidently he said later, as if he's assured a next time. And while normally you'd say that was a bit presumptuous of a man, you couldn't help but think of the kiss you shared and allow him to have his confidence. He smiles when you don't deny him too. He leads you to a room that's cleaner than what you'd expect from an athlete if you're honest. The room smells of lingering cologne and linen air freshner as he closes his door. He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his face into the crook of your neck to kiss and nip at the skin as you tilt tour head to give him more space. You giggle as he kisses at certain spots, whimpering when he finds that particular spot that has you slightly buckling in his grasp.

His hands play with the hem of your shirt and pants, gently tugging as he sucks and bites at the spot that has you depending on him more to help you stand. "You can still back out now, (y/n). I really don't-" you wind up snaking your hand back into his hair, turning your head to bring his mouth to yours.

"I want to, Atsumu. Please, lemme have this." The way you whine has his eyes rolling in a good way this time, gently pushing you to his bed before he opts for turning you toward him and tossing you on it. His grip firm as he halfheartedly flung you onto the soft sheets as if you weighed nothing and without a single complaint either. He's quick to crawl over you and place his lips back on yours, tongue slipping in before you can fight him on it. You don't fight with him too much for dominance, more so to just be playful. He takes it, sliding his hands higher under your shirt than before to touch your skin as you fingers dig into his shoulder. He takes time to pull away every so often to ask if he can remove some piece of clothing from you, seeming as if he truly couldn't get enough of you. First your shirt, then pants, then his own. He barely detached his body from yours as he stripped you or himself, wanting nothing more than the feel of your soft, pretty skin on his. When he inevitably did have to pull himself up onto his knees to take off your bra, he couldn't help but take in the sight in front of him.

You're underneath him, as he's wanted for a bit now, neck only slightly marked up from before, lips swollen and a little of the mixed saliva from him keeping your mouths together making Its way down your cheek from the corner of your mouth. Your chest is heaving from him giving you minimal time to breathe between kisses, and to top it off you're basically half naked, the pretty body he's seen clad in various workout clothes finally exposed properly for his eyes to drink in. His staring to you on the other hand, has you feeling self conscious. You take a breath and start to move to shield your body from him, crossing your legs and bringing one of your arms over your chest to hide. He quickly stops you, whining at you, gently smacking your hands and thighs to get you to move them. He settles himself properly between your thighs and moves to pin your hands above your head with one hand. "Don't hide, beautiful. 'M only staring cause i think you're pretty." He smiles at the flustered look that comes back across your face and trails his free hand over the too of your bra. "I can take the rest of it off, right?" He asks, eyes still glues to your chest.

You hum and nod, so he wastes no time before reaching under you to unhook the only thing keeping your chest from his mouth. He almost drools at the sight of them when he moves his other hand from your wrists to toss the garment to the floor. There's quiet fuck that slips from him as his eyes catch on your tits the same way yours did earlier, and under such admiration you can't really tell when, if ever, your husband looked at any part of you with such genuine hunger. If feels nice to be looked at like this, so you try not to let your hands fall from where they rest above your head. His hands smooth down your sides, gripping every so often at the soft flush under his fingers til he gets to the hem of your panties, pulling and letting them snap against your hip as you yelp. He's tempted to rip them in all honesty but decides against it, simply sliding them down and off you to the floor as his eyes rake up and down you to figure out where to start.

His hands reach for your chest, kneading your tits and watching how responsive you are to him tweaking and thumbing over your nipples. He takes in every tiny whimper and breathess noise you make before taking your left nipple into his mouth and moaning at the taste of your skin. Your hands come down then, rethreading through his hair and unconsciously pushing him just a bit more into your chest. They're more sensitive than he thought, and you seem to love the way he flicks the hardened bud with his tongue before he takes a teasing bite and pulls it with his teeth just a little. He's not one to show favoritism in the bedroom, so he swaps to lavish the other with the same attention, biting just a bit harder to get you to make more noise for him. It all has him rutting his still clothed cock against your center, the wetness quickly seeping through the thin fabric and driving him to take his open mouthed kisses down your torso, leaving marks here and there to show his pathing until he's kissing the top of your mound. You tug his hair and he lets his drunken gaze float up to yours, mouth still kissing around between your thighs.

"You... Don't have to, if you don't wanna... Just so you don't feel obligated or something..." His brows furrow as his mouth sticks to one spot just above your clit as he takes in what you just said. His foggy brain has a moment of realization when he sees that you aren't just flustered, but embarrassed. He sits up a bit more as you gulp and raises his eyebrow at you.

"Did that fuckwit tell you he didn't like eating pussy?" He asks so bluntly it makes you curl up a bit as you avert your gaze, hands stroking his head still.

"He said it wasn't his favorite part but he did it because it was expected so I'm just- ah!! Fuck!" You're abruptly cut off as Atsumu opts to dive head first to your center, tossing your legs over his shoulders and running his tongue from your hole to your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Atsumu eats pussy for his own enjoyment, for fun. Your husband had you at home all the time and didn't constantly want his face between your lovely thighs? He didn't want the warm soft earmuffs and the, to Atsumu, gentle pressure of you squeezing his head with them? Because to Sumu, this feels like heaven. The muffled squeals as he slides his tongue from lapping at your clit to fucking your slippery hole and nudging his nose against your clit to keep the cute little button stimulated have him rutting into his mattress. You're overwhelming his senses and he's in love with it, it's a contender for being his favorite part of it in competition with how you taste. One taste and he's actively trying to devour you, as if he hadn't eaten dinner maybe an hour or so ago.

His hands grip onto your plush thighs and encourage you to clamp them even harder than you are now around his head as you whine and keen under him. Your fingers tug at his hair as you halfway guide his mouth where you want him, also grinding your cunt against his face and breathlessly moaning everytime he hums in pleasure against you. He opens his eyes when he feels one of your hands leave his head and lets them trail up you see your head tossed into his pillows and the hand you freed from his locks grasping at your chest, kneading your breasts as he did earlier and he can't help the way he basically growls into you. "Atsumu~ mmphf! Fuck, Sumu!" Oh god if he wasn't determined to get you to cum from the dumb shit you told him earlier, he was now.

He keeps his grip on your thighs, sluring and lapping feverishly at your pretty pussy, making sounds you'd truly be embarrassed of if you could find yourself thinking straight. He lets you use his face, lets you tug and pull his hair in a way that would be damn near painful, if he could think straight either to, to let you throw yourself off that cliff. He's only focusing on the moans clawing their way from your throat, getting higher and higher in pitch until you feel like you're about to crush his skull between your thighs. You call his name over and over, louder and louder until you go rigid and squeal as he helps himself to your sweet release, guiding you through wave after wave of pleasure.

Once you begin to paw and push at his head, he pulls himself up to look down at you with a wolfish smile and drunken gaze. His chin and lips shine in the daylight that floods through his bedroom window, the subtle warmth that still enraptures you keeps you from being as embarrassed about the sight. He moves his hand to swipe your juices from his chin before placing those same fingers into his mouth and humming at the taste. "You're husband has absolutely no taste, does he?" You giggle and move to sit up, a hand reaching to trail down his abdomen to the hem of his boxers but are stopped short by him pushing you back down and crawling to blanket you with his body. He kisses you deeply, sharing the taste still on his tongue with you and swallowing the little whimpers you give.

"Are you not gonna let me reciprocate that?" You ask when he finally parts, moving to trail his mouth down your neck and shoulder as he shakes his head.

"Uh uh, at least not this time. Next time." He assures, and you laugh softly in his ear at his confident insistence on this not being a 1 time thing. It makes you giddy, a man desiring you in a way that seemed so fairytale lately even tho you were supposed to be happily married. He nips at your shoulder and hums when you don't respond. "You'll let there be a next time, right darlin'?" He mumbles against your shoulder. You nod, dreamily humming as you turn to kiss his temple. At your agreement, he grinds himself against you, letting your slick completely soak through his underwear as you both moan into each other's skin. You grab hold of his shoulders as he keeps going, his grunts heavy on your neck as he tries to keep from going overboard. He does sit up, chuckling breathlessly as you whine at the loss of his heat.

He quickly slides off his boxers and when your eyes meet again, or rather when he looks at your face, the smile that crosses his face is smug. Your eyes were glued to between his legs, your lower lip caught between your teeth. He was bigger than your husband, longer and thicker though you'd say they were similar heights. Impressive sure was one way to describe it, the tip pink and glossed over with his arousal that began to run down his length. He trails his fingers from his abs to wrap around his dick, giving it slow stokes which catches your attention. You let your eyes follow up from his dick, soaking in the way the muscles under the skin of his tummy ripple and quiver, taking in how his chest rises and falls with his labored breaths. From his chest, you look to his face, catching how his eyes are intently glued to you as he seems to fight the urge to fist himself faster. Your grip on your lip becomes bruising, the wet plaps of his hand around himself causing you to twitch and pant.

He smiles as he stops, bringing his wet hand to your mouth with a slightly raised brow, a tiny gasp escaping him as you eagerly take his hand in yours and run your tongue over his palm and between his fingers. It sets him off, as he's quickly over you again, freshly licked hand guiding his hardness to your weeping center and mouth on yours with the full intent to make it hard to breathe. He lets his cock slide through your folds, swallowing your moans every time his tip rubs your swollen clit. "You ready, sweetheart?" He slurs against your mouth. You nod, clasping your hands together at the back of his neck, desperate mutters of "Please, Sumu..." spurring him on as he slides his way into you. He was happy at how easy it was; despite how tight you were, your pussy was wet enough give give him little resistance. He only pulled away from the heated kiss to watch your eyes roll into the back of head and listen at the drawn out noise you gave him.

When he feels you hike your leg over his hip and push him into you, he almost giggles at your eagerness. He moves his hands to the sides of your head, starting a steady rut into you before both of you whine at the feeling not being enough. "Please, Astumu.. Gimme more~" you ask so sweetly, how can he deny you? His hips begin to snap into yours, drawing out pretty high pitched moans and grunts from both of you. He moves his face to mark your throat and shoulder as he pumps into you, hands moving to grab your hips to prevent you from scooting up the bed as he starts to thrust faster and faster. He keeps his moth on your throat, grunting at the feel of your sounds on his lips and your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrap your other leg around his waist.

"Feel .. s'good baby. Y'er grippin me soooo fuckin tight- shit!" He curses into your neck, mindless babbles being all he receives in return. The smile on his face never seems to leave, even as he sits up to sit back on his haunches and starts using your hips to bring your velvety pussy onto him, your ass propped up just a bit by his thighs underneath. The angle has you keening, arching your back and grasping at his wrists as a way to ground yourself as he pistons into you again and again. The sticky wet squelch between you drags Atsumu's eyes down to where you both connect, rolling and threatening to close as the sight of his pelvis all glossy, pretty white ring encircling his base and shaft completely coated. The feel of your walls convulsing and clentching as your hips buck against his in a futile effort to keep up with his brutal pace is mind numbing, dragging almost whiny moans from his chest as his hands garb onto any bit of you they can and please.

When he does manage to tear his eyes away from your swollen cunt sucking him in, he lets his gaze lick up your body. From your tummy that he can see bulge with every pump in, to your tits that bounce so nicely, to your pretty face and the adorable fucked out expression that's plastered across it. He genuinely thinks you're so pretty, he can't wrap any part of his mushy brain around how someone could have you and not want to worship you all the damn time. You deserve so much. And he's damn sure gonna give it to you. "Y'er- so- fuck-in pretty!" Every syllable is punctuated with a harsh kiss to your cervix, just bordering on painful but still adding to the pleasure that has your eyes glued to the back of your skull. Your whines and moans are broken as they hit his ears, one large hand moving from your hip to your front, letting his thumb rub your clit and his other four fingers press above where his cock hits inside.

You shudder under his hands, twitching as you let out a weak warning of your impending orgasm. Though teary eyes, you see him nod. "C'mon darlin, cum nice an' hard f'me." He grunts, leaning up onto his knees just a bit more for leverage to throw you over.

And he does.

Your eyes clamp shut as you basically scream, his name tumbling out again and again as he fucks you through it. He's honestly a bit disappointed in the fact you didn't squirt, but there's always next time, right? He does fall over the edge after you do, your gorgeous climax having a domino effect on him as he grunts out your name like a mantra until he can't. The after shocks of yours guiding him through his own overwhelming haze of pleasure, and he finds himself drooling slightly by the time he comes back to earth. His body collapses next to yours after he pulls out and watches your cunt twitch and clench, letting his cum seep out and admiring it as it follows the curve of your ass onto his bed. He pulls you to him and you let him, snuggling into his chest.

He lays there for a bit, basking in the afterglow with you before getting up to get a wet towel to clean you up with as a bath runs. "Oh, you don't have to-" The stare he gives cuts you off as he wipes down your lower half, eyes narrowed at what you saying that now implies about how you were treated at home.

"I just fucked your pretty little brains out, sweetheart. I am not only obligated to clean you up and take care of you, but i want to. As any real man should." He emphasizes what shouldn't need to be said as he finishes wiping you down and goes back into his bathroom to finish up your bath. He carries you, despite protest, and sets you in as he says he's going to change his sheets. "Do... Do you maybe wanna stay over?" He's suddenly bashful, and it makes you wonder if the man who just made you cum harder than you have in years just a moment ago and this sweet, shy, country boy who can't seem to find your eyes is the same man. You nod, saying you'd like that. He finds your eyes then, dopey smile out in full as he hops off to clean his room.

He comes back just when you're clean and about to fall asleep, calling for you as he helps you out and dries you off, admiring your sleepy form as he slides a clean tshirt over your head. He guides you out this time, you smacking his hands when he tries to pick you up, his bed now dressed in a pretty deep grey color as he lets you lay down and get comfy. He's about to walk into the bathroom when your phone rings from the floor, you sucking your teeth at the ringtone. He rummages through your pants to find it again and frowns at it being the man neither of you wanna hear from. He does not the lack of guilt he feels about what happened tho. He hands it to your grabby hand and listens from the bathroom as you answer.

"Hello?... What does it matter what im doing?... I'm not at home, your dinner is in the oven. Is that not everything?... What you do in that house, in that bed is none of my business. I don't wanna hear about it either, not like i sleep there..... I have an attitude because you're bothering me... That's not even fair, what for?!... Sure, whatever. Move it i guess.... No, im not. Can i go now?" He hears you sigh and groan, but you seem to be off the phone, so he quickly hops in the shower before coming to cuddle with you in bed. The evening sun has set, the sky it's deep inky black through the window as he flicks on the tv to something neither of you pay attention to. He wraps you tight on his embrace and kisses your head, asking what your legal partner wanted. "He wants to use the guest room I'm staying in to house his little tramp because she's having 'family issues, don't be such a bitch. She's going through a hard time.'" You grown and half flail like you're having a tantrum, pressing your face into his chest. He grips even tighter, his blood boiling. That man has 0 respect and it shows so much.

"You can bring whatever things you don't want him to touch here." He offers, and you turn your sad, puppy like eyes to him. Even in the dark, under the mild light of his tv, he can see how glassy they are. It hurts his heart. "You can come by whenever you want, too. I'll never turn you away." You open your mouth, voice raspy with tears as you tell him of not wanting to intrude or be a burden but he stops you with a kiss. "Im not him. You will never be a burden to me. I mean it. Whatever or whenever, you always have a sizable place here." The tears fall but you smile at his sweetness, sharing kisses and sniffly thank you's with him. He pulls you on top of him, letting your head lay on his chest as he soothes his hands over your back, telling you to get some well deserved sleep. He thankfully doesn't miss your mutters of how much you like him already and how thankful you are before you're out cold. He places another kiss to your head, smiling as his own eyes close from his own exhaustion. Be it from fucking you like that or from being angry at your paper-only lover, he doesn't know or even care right now. He knows he'll have to explain himself to someone at some point, but that's a task for future Astumu.

Besides, he's just doing what his mama taught him was right, right?

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Hope you guys enjoyed! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[mrsstarkey1]

dress - drew starkey

SUMMARY: requested by @willowpains - a fic with drew based on the song ‘dress’ by taylor swift

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: none

You weren't sure when this thing between you and Drew even started. You couldn't even describe what it was.

All you knew was how you felt when you looked at him. What he could do to you with a simple glance. It was getting out of hand, you’d both admit that. You couldn't even be in the same room together anymore without giving each other the infamous "let's get out of here" look.

It was a miracle no one had noticed, especially your cast mates. It was almost comical actually, that they hadn't. You knew they were clueless simply because if they knew, they would never leave you two alone about it. Madeline in particular, would have a field day with the information.

Maybe it made sense that no one suspected it, because admittedly you and Drew were an unexpected pairing. You were as different as two people could be, at least from an outside perspective. You'd always appeared to the media as innocent, shy, reserved, in other words - completely opposite of Drew Starkey.

You never would have thought you could feel this way about him, about anyone, actually. The moment you saw him though, you realized just how insanely wrong you were. You were an added character for season three of Outer Banks, and Drew had been the first person you met on set. One singular look at him; dressed in a suit, hair buzzed, smile on his face, and you knew you were done for.

You became extremely fast friends, going out to eat after nearly every day of filming, sharing things with each other like you'd known each other your entire lives. Within weeks, you couldn't imagine your life without Drew, and you considered him your best friend. Until you quickly realized you were much more. The rest is history, really.

There was a small, teeny, tiny part of you that wanted to tell your cast mates, to tell everyone, but you just loved the excitement too much. The risk of getting caught was thrilling. The thrill fueled your relationship - physical relationship, that is - and God did you love it. The stolen glances and 'innocent' touches in crowded rooms, the everlasting feeling of anticipation, the perpetual desperation you felt to just be near him. There was nothing else like it.

But that small part of you had been coming out to play more often recently. You wanted him to be yours. I mean, technically he had been for awhile, but you two were the only ones aware of this. You found yourself wanting to make it known that you weren’t just best friends like everyone thought.

But for now, until you figured out what you really want, and what Drew wants, you were fine with the thrill of it. You even had a little game you liked to play - drive Drew as crazy as possible in the most public of places. You had your game in mind when you picked out the dress you were wearing now as you sat across from Drew. You sat in the limo with the rest of the cast outside the red carpet for the season three premiere, meeting his eyes every couple moments to see him already looking at you.

You glanced down at your red silk dress, innocently adjusting the V-line to display a little more. "Y/n, that dress is absolutely gorgeous!!!" Maddie said next to you as soon as she'd noticed your attire.

"Oh my god it's stunning!" Madison said from the spot next to Drew, leaning toward you to touch the fabric.

Chase, Rudy and JD agreed with a simple approving head nod and "you look good."

Everyone's heads turned to an uncharacteristically quiet Drew, who was oh-so not subtly staring at your neckline. He snapped out of it after a second too long, "yeah-um, you look great," he managed to get out, tearing his eyes from you and down at his phone. "Shouldn't we get out there?"

A couple looks were exchanged before everyone agreed, positioning themselves to get out of the limo and immediately onto the carpet. As soon as the door opened, you could instantly hear the screams of fans and the shutters of cameras. "Woogity-woogity baby," Rudy said to all of you quickly, before being the first one to step out of the car.

You chuckled to yourself, before pasting a camera ready smile on your face. You got out second to last, Drew right behind you as you walked closer to the chaos. Before you could make it to where the rest of your cast mates were, already posing for the photographers, you felt a familiar hand on your waist, followed by a low whisper in your ear, "what do you think you're doing?"

You turned your head just slightly, so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. "Walking toward the red carpet?" you said innocently, smile still plastered on your lips, only growing when you saw the fire in his eyes. Not an angry fire, a lustful fire. Exactly what you anticipated.

His grip tightened around your waist, and he flashed a smile and a small wave to the fans that had spotted you two. “Why did you pick that dress?” he practically whined in your ear.

You shifted your body around, leaning into him ever so slightly careful to not seem suspicious, craning your head up so your mouth was by his ear opposite of the fans. "So you could take it off,” you whispered so quietly you weren't sure he'd be able to hear it. Drew's eyes widened, his polite smile for the audience faltering as he let out a breath. You pulled yourself out of his grip, a proud smile on your face at the confirmation that he had definitely heard you.

You walked toward the middle of the red carpet with an excited wave of your hand toward the fans, leaving Drew to quickly compose himself in front of hundreds of people.

You didn’t see or speak to Drew for nearly the entire rest of the time on the carpet, and you just knew that wherever he was, he was losing his mind. There was a reason you’d picked tonight to wear this dress; it was the busiest night of the year for you and the rest of the cast. Meaning you and Drew would never be able to slip away unnoticed, and you knew that would drive him insane. And maybe, just maybe, it would put the idea in his mind that things would be better if the world knew about you.

Now, standing at the bar at the after party you couldn't help but search the room for Drew. You leaned against the bar, mindlessly downing the drinks the bartender gave you as you waited for Drew to make himself known. When you finally found him, he was already staring at you from across the room. You didn't know if it was the alcohol's effect on you, or just your desire to finally be with Drew in public that made you start walking toward where he stood talking to Chase. You were nearly within his reach, when someone stepped into your pathway.

"Hey y/n!" Madeline said excitedly, her loud voice indicating that she'd also found the bar.

Your eyes stayed fixed on Drew for a moment, who'd witnessed the interruption. You looked at Madeline with a smile, "hey Mads. Having fun?"

You fell into a drunken conversation with Madeline, and you'd be lying if you said you were aware of what you were talking about. When you saw Drew stifle a laugh after Madeline had made a joke, you realized he was within earshot, and a plan formed in your intoxicated head. You fiddled with the straps of your dress in an obvious way with an obnoxious groan. "This dress is so uncomfortable," you said to Madeline with a sigh, "I think I'm gonna go change."

Madeline nodded her head mindlessly, "yes, go change. I'll see you later!" she slurred, pointing at you with her index finger. You let out a laugh, and turned around to walk toward the bathroom.

You only made it about halfway to the hallway before being stopped by a hand on your shoulder. You smiled widely, immediately knowing that your plan had worked. He was like a damn dog on a leash.

You turned around quickly-maybe a little too quickly-because you practically crashed into him, a chuckle involuntarily leaving your lips. Drew steadied you quickly, placing his hands on your hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said after a moment, only a slightly hushed tone.

You pointed behind you to the bathroom, “to change,” you said simply, a knowing smile on your face.

His eyebrow raised, “I remember you saying I would be the one to take your dress off,” he said with a smirk, leaning in closer to your face.

You kept your eyes on his, not even thinking about who could be watching this interaction. “What are we waiting for then?”

Drew smiled and wasted no time slipping his hand into yours, pulling you along with him toward the hallway. You leaned into his chest as you walked, unable to hold in your chuckle at his eagerness. As you walked, you caught a glimpse of a few people sending confused looks your way. “Drew, people are looking,” you whispered, looking up at him to check for a reaction.

Drew simply tightened his grip on you, turning his head to place a kiss on your cheek. “Let them,” he mumbled against your skin.

“It’s about time,” you said with an ear-to-ear smile.

As the two of you stepped into the bathroom, you heard the angelic sound of Drew’s hearty laugh and the click of a camera.

taglist: @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @addisbooks

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[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: Technically none, but I suppose child abuse Word count: 3697

Summary: At six years old, Finn can't look after himself. When an unexpected situation befalls his Papa and his Papa's staff, there is nobody to look after him besides the last resort: his grandmother.

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

The Grandmother

Grandparents. Everybody had them. Even if they weren't alive anymore or you didn't know them, there isn't a single person in Twisted Wonderland without them.

The relationships between grandchild and grandparents were different everywhere for every family. Some are close, some are distant, some are complicated, and others never got to know or meet their grandparents at all.

Finn fell into the distant category. Extremely distant. At least for the one living grandparent he did have.

His grandmother, on his dad's side, was somebody he had only met once.

His Papa didn't mention her (or Finn's grandfather, but he died a few years ago) or talk about her at all. In fact, Finn wouldn't have even known she existed if it weren't for his classmates.

"My Grammy makes the best crab rolls. You've got to try them!"

"Oh, my grandpa knows how to wrestle. He was a wrestler when he was young!"

"My grandparents said they had to swim through ice to get to school."

The few kids willing to talk to Finn looked at him.

"And what about you?" One asked. "What are your grandparents like?"

Finn, knowing they were just going to make fun of how he talked if he answered, just shrugged.

However, even as the conversation was dropped, Finn wouldn't stop thinking about it. Grandparents? His Papa's parents were dead, but he didn't know about the other side. Did he have any? What did they look like? Why didn't Papa talk about them?

When Finn got home from school, he swam into the kitchen where his Papa was making lunch and tugged at his arm.

"Papa," He said. "Do I have g-g- gwamparens?"

His Papa paused his actions and took a moment to translate his botched pronunciation.

"Grandparents." He corrected quietly. "Yes, one. Your dad's mother."

He didn't say any more, and Finn knew not to ask anymore. He could hear in his Papa's voice, the way it wavered slightly, that he didn't like this topic.

That was fine. Finn didn't actually care that much. His curiosity was fulfilled, and really, he just wanted to go play in the sand and hunt crabs in the garden.

This topic was only brought up again later, when Finn and his class were given a school assignment relating to their little history lesson about some times of civil unrest in the past.

"Talk to your parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, whoever you can," said Finn's teacher. "It's important to hear from lots of different people."

Finn went home with the paper containing the information about his project clutched in his hand, then held it up for his Papa to see.

"Can I see gwamparens?" He asked. "For questions."

"Grandparents." His Papa patiently corrected. "And no. You can talk to Timo and the others instead."

It was around this time that Finn realised that being no contact with certain relatives was considered abnormal. Wrong. Something to pity.

When Finn relayed what his Papa said to his teacher, and she, after several tries, eventually translated his stilted, slurred speech, her demeanour became awkward.

"Oh." She said. "Are you sure?"

Finn nodded. She looked uncomfortable.

"Ask your Papa again." She said, and when Finn was on his way out the door, she mumbled. "Honestly, parents always let their petty family drama get in the way of their children's schooling."

She said it under breath, thinking Finn wouldn't hear, but he very much did.

Finn came home wondering why his Papa wouldn't let him see his grandmother, and then asked him again to see her.

"No." His Papa repeated. He was annoyed, but not at Finn. Never at Finn. "Tell her not to make you ask me again."

Finn nodded. "K. But Miss Key said fammy dwama gets in the way of... of..." He frowned, annoyed at the words that refused to come out right. "S-sooling."

His Papa squinted at him. "Family drama gets in the way of schooling?"

"Yeah."

His Papa drew in a slow breath but said nothing more on the topic. Instead, he told Finn to take his questions to the staff. They were happy to comply, ruffling Finn's hair and telling him all about their experiences "back in the day."

Finn was given many school projects revolving around talking to or about his family. He would always ask Timo, who was like his big brother, and Gale and the others, who were like his aunts and uncles.

His teachers didn't really like this, insisting he talk to his real family instead.

"Dey are." Finn said, blinking, and his teacher sighed and grinded her jaw.

"They need to be related to you, sweetie." She said.

When Finn repeated what he said to his Papa, the older shark just rolled hus eyes and muttered, "Bullshit." followed by a hurried, "Don't copy that."

From time to time, especially when given these projects, Finn wandered what this grandmother he apparently had was like. However, he would quickly lose interest because if his Papa didn't like her, he probably wouldn't either.

Oh, how he underestimated how true that statement would be.

It started when his Papa got in trouble for something. Finn wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew whatever it was, it wasn't true, so he didn't understand why these people wouldn't leave them alone.

Timo was in trouble, too, as well as some of the others. There wasn't anybody to look after him while whatever was going on was being sorted out, and his Papa absolutely refused to leave him home alone, so it was eventually decided he'd stay with his grandmother.

His Papa looked furious about it, finns trembling, hands clenching, eyes dark.

"Papa?" Finn asked, grabbing his hand. He stared at his Papa, wondering why he seemed upset.

His Papa muttered something and looked back at Finn, squeezing his hand.

"You're going to stay with your grandmother for a little bit, okay?" He said, his voice tinged with that same waver from before. "Probably just for a night until I get this sorted out."

Finn was given ten minutes or so to pack a little bag for himself. Toothbrush, toothpaste, his drawing things, and some of his toys were hurriedly shoved into a bag made of kelp, and then he was waiting at the door to go.

They swam for a while, until they reached the main part of the city. The streets were empty due to how late it was, and the sky was dark.

Silas turned Finn around and gently held his face. "Whatever she says to you, just ignore it, do you understand? Think of it as a nonsense rhyme. I promise I'll come fetch you as soon as possible."

Finn nodded, unsure why this was being said at all. He didn't care to listen to anyone besides his Papa most of the time anyway.

Eventually, they both noticed a lone figure drifting down the street towards them.

She was pink and white in hue, and skin sagged in a way that felt sad, somehow. Hair as white as snow flowed past her back, which was straight as an arrow. Her wrists were adorned with golden bangles, and she wore many rings. Two gold necklaces with a diamond on each one hung elegantly around her neck, clinking softly as she swam gracefully toward them.

Her face, now, that was the interesting part, was obscured by a thick white veil with golden patterns woven into it.

She looked like a ghost, and the thought made Finn's heart nearly stop. Next to him, his Papa tensed.

"Ah, Finn, dear, there you are." Said the stranger, who then turned her face towards his Papa."And.. Silas."

It felt wrong, in a way, to hear his Papa's name coming out of her mouth. Especially in a tone filled with such resentment and disgust.

"Cyrus." Said Finn's Papa.

A silence settled over them for a moment. A heavy, pregnant silence.

"Look after him." His Finn's Papa said after a while. He then covered Finn's earfins with his hands and said something Finn couldn't hear. He then lifted his hands just in time for Finn to hear the grandmother call his Papa a brute.

They hugged goodbye, and Silas once again reminded Finn not to listen to her, then parted ways

Finn followed the grandmother down the street, the two of them swimming in silence. He could feel her eyes on him behind that veil, scanning him from head to tailfin.

"How old are you?" The grandmother finally asked as they weaved through silent, unlit houses. "I haven't seen you were just a little baby. You've certainly... grown."

"Six." Finn mumbled, staring at the ground.

"Speak up." Said the the grandmother, her tail flicking in annoyance. "And look at me when I'm talking to you. Your father may not have bothered with teaching you manners, but I certainly will. I'll ask again, how old are you?"

"Six." Finn repeated a little louder, annoyed. He knew manners! He just didn't like people's eyes or looking into them. His Papa said he didn't have to do any of that.

Tye grandmother sighed. "We'll work on it. Six, hmm? My, how time flies. I'm surprised you're still alive."

Finn didn't understand what she meant by that, but he still didn't like it. He decided he didn't like her either.

Eventually, they arrived at a large double story home with a fenced front garden that contained a stone pathway and coral sculptures. The house itself was carved out of limestone, and it was very pretty.

"Woah." said Finn.

"Better than a rock, isn't it?" Said the grandmother, and Finn decided not to answer.

The inside of the house was neat and tidy. It was almost too perfect. More props for a movie set than an actual home.

Furniture, picture frames, and paintings were perfectly placed an angled, looking brand new and untouched by time. The only thing out of place was the dining room table, which had deep clawmarks running through it.

Finn stared at it, wondering what happened, until the grandmother ushered him away.

The house was so big. There was an entrance hall, a lounge, a separate dining room, a large kitchen, a small library, several bedrooms, and two master bedrooms.

"You must feel so cramped in that hunk of rock you live in." Said the grandmother. "This would be a much better place to stay, don't you think?"

Finn shrugged his shoulders, and she sighed but didn't say anything, opting to open up one of the bedroom doors instead.

"You will be staying here." She told him, opening the curtain of seaweed that functioned as a door. "This was Morri- your other father's room when he was younger."

Finn slowly swam inside and looked around. He felt like he'd travelled back in time for a moment, taken to an era from long before he was born.

The room that had apparently belonged to his late dad was just as freakishly perfect as the rest of the house. Not a speck of algae in sight, not a single sign of age or decay. It hadn't been disturbed, seemingly the exact same as it was when it was being used.

Overall, there wasn't actually much to it. The walls were painted teal, and the floor lilac. A box of various musical instruments sat in the corner, probably the most disorganised thing in this house.

In the back corner of the room was a huge trophy cabinet that was fit floor to ceiling. It was filled to the brim with trophies, plaques, scrolls, and certificates. Finn couldn't read yet, so he didn't know what they were for, but it seemed important.

Band and movie posters, a calendar marking an age of almost fifty years ago, and sketches of odd diagrams were hung up on the walls, slightly faded.

The large clamshell bed was littered with clawmarks on the sides, the only odd sight on the perfectly made bed.

On an empty dressing table sat a single framed picture of Finn's dad, surrounded by little glass containers of tiny bioluminiscent creatures.

Unlike all the other pictures Finn had seen of him, he wasn't smiling here. No, his face held a blank, exhausted expression.

"He was such a talented and clever child." The grandmother sighed suddenly. "I hope you are, too, Finn."

Finn's earfins flattened unhappily at the odd, unplaceable tone of her voice.

The grandmother shuffled back down to the ground floor, leaving Finn alone in that eerie room.

Finn didn't know why, but he didn't like it in there. Being there felt wrong. He put his bag down on the bed and swam out of there to instead watch the grandmother make food in the kitchen.

"You're awfully quiet, boy." She said. Finn blinked at her, and she sighed. "I believe you're meant to thank your kind grandmother for looking after you while your crook of a father deals with the police."

"Oh." Finn said, silently wondering if this was something he should ignore. "F... Fank you."

"Oh, don't tell me you can't talk right either." The grandmother groaned and raked her hands through her hair, careful to avoid the veil. "Thank you. It's quite simple, dear."

Finn frowned, his cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment. He'd always been slow in learning to talk. It took him far longer than considered normal to even say his first word, nevernind a sentence.

"Speech delay," it was calmly explained to both himself and his Papa. Quite a frw children experience it. All he needed to do was go to speech therapy for a while until he caught up with his peers.

Finn knew all of this, though in a much more simplified manner. "Talking problems." He would explain to people, but he couldn't muster the words to elaborate.

This stranger, this grandmother, probably wouldn't even bother trying to decipher his botched pronunciation.

Finn bowed his head and muttered a quiet "Sorry."

"You need to speak up." Was the reply. "Does Silas even talk to you?"

His Papa did talk to him, just not a whole lot. At least, compared to other parents. It wasn't because he didn't like talking to Finn or anything, but because he didn't have much he felt he needed to say.

He talked to Finn enough that Finn didn't feel ignored or abandoned and that he could learn how to talk. He just didn't constantly try to fill the air.

Trying to get this across to adults who were convinced his Papa was neglecting and mistreating him was impossible, so Finn just shook his head and said, "Papa talks lots."

The grandmother muttered something disbelief as she cut up kelp with a knife. "Yes, I'm sure two sentences a day is 'lots' for Silas. No wonder you're so behind... oh, I know this would happen without Morrigan there..."

Finn didn't understand what she was talking about, but the vague feeling he did something wrong and his Papa was being blamed for it gnawed at the back of his mind.

"Here, I talk to you like a parent should." Said the grandmother. "Isn't nice, having a conversation with someone who actually talks?"

Finn didn't answer.

Dinner was served at that scratched up table in that perfect dining room in that perfect, empty house.

Finn was tired and hungry, so when a platter of shredded seaweed, shrimp, and crab legs was placed in front of him, he reached out to grab some.

A sudden stinging pain on his knuckles made him yelp and draw his hand back, shaking it as it ached. That hurt, that really hurt, and it made his eyes water.

He looked up to find the grandmother holding a metal salad fork, waving it at him and looking at him like he'd committed a crime.

"Ungrateful." She seethed. "Greedy boy. I was worried Silas wasn't feeding you, but it seems that instead, he raised a little glutton who thinks he can take what he wants. Well, not under my roof. You take what I give you, the amount a child is supposed to eat, nothing more and nothing less."

Finn blinked back the tears and looked at his hand, noticing the bruises already forming on his knuckles. He nodded slowly. "Kay."

He was given a tiny helping and a fork, which was forcefully shoved into his hand until he was holding it "correctly."

"There." Said the grandmother. "Perfect. Civilised. Isn't this better, dear?"

Finn still didn't answer, and she just huffed and dished herself up an obscenely small portion of the dinner.

There was a pause as Finn stared at her veil, and she raised her hands to it.

"Don't say a word." She said and slowly removed it.

Finn blinked, surprised.

Her face was scarred. Very scarred. One could say she was little more damage away from being mangled. The jagged, rough marks on her flesh seemed to indicate she had been slashed in the face in a very violent manner. Attacked by something with claws.

Her lips were scarred, too, almost clefted. Her eyebrows were missing hair in some places. Her eyes, her bright turquoise eyes, were cold as ice.

Finn was no stranger to scars. His Papa had many, and Timo and the others had a few of their own. But even by those standards, this damage was... extreme.

They ate in silence, accompanied by only the ticking of the kitchen clock. The obnoxiously loud "tick tick tick" made Finn flinch and squirm in discomfort.

Even as he ate, he couldn't take his eyes off the grandmother's face. Those scars, they told a story. A very violent, painful one.

The grandmother stopped eating and stared back at Finn with those haunting eyes.

"Your father did this to me, you know." She said. "Ruined me. I can't even show my face in public anymore, not like this."

Finn narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe her. He'd never seen his Papa hurt someone before, only sea creatures.

"Oh, I suppose you think he's just wonderful." The grandmother said with a bitter laugh. "That your 'Papa' is just a stoic man who wouldn't hurt a fly. That's what he convinced your dad, too. Shame my poor Morrigan never saw the truth before it did him in."

Finn shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore her like his Papa told him to. 'Nonsense rhyme that doesn't rhyme.' He told himself, even as his eyes brimmed with tears again, and he wished he could go home.

The grandmother reached across the table and took Finn's hand in hers. "I see the truth. I know you must be suffering, being raised by him. I can help you."

Finn yanked his hand back, staring at her. She sighed.

"Fine. You'll understand soon. Brush your teeth, now, and off to bed with you."

Finn eventually went back to that awful room and curled up in that awful bed, staring at that awful picture of a sad, dull version of his dad. He thought about what his grandmother had said and, by extension, what the others at school had said about his Papa, and then cried until he fell asleep.

The next day, his breakfast was a single crab with a glass of water. He was still hungry from the night before, and honestly, the crab looked a little... old. But he ate it anyway, scared of being hit again.

When he finished up and went to fetch his bag, a knock at the door and the sound of familiar voice calling made him perk up and come rushing down towards it, only to be grabbed by the grandmother.

Her grip hurt, the golden rings digging painfully into his skin as she stared at him with those cold eyes.

"You're not safe with him." She said. "Stay with me. I can raise you properly, make sure you're cared for. I'll make sure I don't make the same mistakes I did with Morrigan. You'll be happy. Wouldn't you like that, dear?"

Finn yanked himself out of her grip and shook his head wildly. "No!" He shouted. "No!"

The door suddenly burst open, and Finn took the opportunity to rush through it until he crashed into his Papa and buried his face in his chest.

His Papa paused for a moment, then placed a hand on Finn's back and gently patted him.

"Papa," Finn sobbed, his voice wobbly. "Papa, I wanna go home."

His Papa held him close and grabbed his hand. "We're going home, my treasure, I promise."

Finn yelped and pulled his hand away. "Owie..."

"What?" His Papa's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

"Hand." Finn said, holding up his bruised hand for his Papa to see. It was worse than it was the night before.

His Papa's breath hitched. There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed frozen in place. Then he suddenly moved Finn so he was sitting on the sand by the door.

"Wait here." He said to Finn, then swam inside and closed the door behind him.

Finn, happy his Papa was finally here, drew little pictures in the sand and hummed quietly, only vaguely aware of the muffled voices coming from behind the door.

A high-pitched shriek made him look up, but after a moment or two, he simply went back to drawing, unbothered.

A moment or two later, his Papa swam out of the bride and carefully picked him up.

"Let's go home now, Finn." He said quietly.

During their silent swim, Finn's head was buzzing with thoughts. The grandmother was terrible. He didn't like her. She said strange things and hurt him. But the main thing that stuck in his mind was that one sentence.

"Your father did this to me."

Finn gnawed on his hand nervously, his tail flicking back and forth. It couldn't possibly be true, could it? Or maybe it was, and it was a misunderstanding of some kind.

"Gamma says you hurted her." Finn blurted after a while. "Hurted her face. Why?"

His Papa glanced at him but didn't answer for a while. He seemed to be thinking, remembering something Finn wouldn't know about. Then, he spoke.

"She tried to take you from me."

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! It was a lot of fun writing it. And if you're wondering what Silas did at the end there, he broke Cyrus' hand. Moral or the story; don't hurt Finn. Fun Fact: my little brother also has speech delay, and the way Finn pronounces things was taken from him.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Happy Ending | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Note: This has been ghosting around in my head for some time now because of the song "Wallpaper" by Megan Cromwell. I noticed that whenever I don't have the pressure of a request in the back of my head for a story it's much easier to write. That's why I wrote this rather easily and quickly. I just wanted to post something again lol. So yeah, have some good ol' super dramatic angst. I'll be more active again hopefully.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Unrequited Love, Mentions of NSFW Stuff, Trauma, Reader has some Issues

Summary: Ghost wants a happy ending but not with you.

Word Count: ~2k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Call sign: Vigil

"We can't do this anymore."

You had known from the start that sleeping with him was a bad idea.

Generally, people advise you against sleeping with a co-worker. Because it makes things complicated. Even more complicated when you're both in the military.

Because technically you’re not allowed to fuck, your actions could be clouded by emotions, potentially risking not only your but the lives of your fellow operators as well. But that little clause in your contract was printed in that tiny font, and so you decided to ignore it.

It didn’t stop you from getting involved with your lieutenant. You were never a big fan of rules after all. Your rank as a sergeant after so many years of service in the military said enough about that.

But at the start, you truly believed that a physical relationship with him wouldn't cause trouble to you or anyone else.

You thought you had it under control. At least in the beginning.

Yes, you had been attracted to him since your first meeting when you had signed your contract with Taskforce 141. Mysterious men were your thing, and he embodied such a man with his skull mask.

So yeah, you did allow yourself to daydream about him, and have some dirty thoughts every once in a while. It wasn’t like you were the only one.

You were attracted to him and you knew he was attracted to you. It was mutual and actually pretty obvious.

You could feel his searing gaze on you just a few days after you had joined the taskforce; the way his eyes trailed up and down your body. The looks he gave you were charged with want.

But attraction doesn't necessarily lead to a romantic relationship, right?

He was a good-looking man in your opinion; tall, rugged, buff, with muscles and fat in the right places, just the way you liked it.

His face couldn't be considered conveniently attractive yet that made it so much better for you. The arch in his brows, the dark eyebags, the scars on his cheeks, his cheekbones. He was your type. And his rough appearance fuelled the fire in your lower stomach and your imagination.

What was the harm in joining him in the sheets and having a bit of fun? It wasn't like you loved him.

That’s what you had asked yourself.

It was much better to get rid of your pent-up frustration with him instead of a toy or a rare one-night stand when you were off-duty.  And damn, was he good in bed.

Rough, fast-paced, keen to try out every possible position, and not shy of pleasing you. You could've expected it. He was a man who wasn't afraid to get down and dirty. Dirt, blood, sweat, and other fluids... It didn't matter.

Short summary: It was pure ecstasy every time.

You two had lots of fun together in lots of different positions and locations, and that was all it was. Just some fun.

No strings attached, as you both declared at the start. Just fuckbuddies.

"I'm not a relationship kind of guy, Y/N" he had told you after you had spent your first time together.

You had snorted because shit, you weren't either. Both of you were too broken and bruised by the baggage of your pasts. Your traumas would probably weigh you both down in the long run. So you were fine with the line he had drawn between you.

It was okay. No emotions, no obligations, no lovey-dovey shit, just a means to an end.

Just a meeting in your room after a mission, a phone call on your days off, then a quick meet-up in a hotel. Just pleasure. Not love.

Until it wasn't just that anymore.

You two had settled into a routine where he would join you in your room late every other night.

After you had pleasured each other enough, he would leave soon after, and somehow - with time, you began to miss the warmth next to you on your bed.

The feeling came slowly creeping, and it took you by surprise.

You never asked him to stay; you didn't dare cross the line. To ask for a bit more affection. But you wished.

That he held you just a bit closer during the act. That he remained next to you just for a few more minutes after it. That he kissed your scars, your lips. That he touched you as if you were something, someone precious to him. Someone important.

Sure, you liked it when he treated you like an unbreakable object when his grip left bruises on your body - in a way, they satisfied your need for more. They marked you as his. But just for once, you wanted to be treasured by him. To feel that you meant something more to him.

You didn't know when your feelings for him had turned into a fluttering mess in your chest. He wasn't just a means to an end anymore. You valued him. Not just as a soldier who had your back. Not just as a friend. But as a man, a partner. A man you wanted close to you. For the rest of your life. No matter how long that would be.

Because Simon had done something no one else had been able to do before.

He made you wish. For a future. A future with him.

He made you wish to be better, to be a little less broken. To pick up the pieces that had once made you whole. You wanted to be better. A better version of yourself. For him. To have a chance to be truly happy. To get that fairy tale life others dream about – you once had dreamed about when you were younger, your shoulders lighter.

His attention made you excel, it made you stronger, faster, harder. You were just better when he was around. A better soldier, a better woman, a happier person.

And you thought, no, believed that he understood that. That he helped you to be better. That you needed him. Not just in your bed, but by your side. As your other half.

You both were people of few words, so you thought that through your actions, your eagerness during missions, and your gentle touches during your time together, you conveyed all these feelings. That he got it, saw how you felt about him.

But you never spelled it out. Never said; I've come to love you.

Just let these feelings simmer under your heart, hoping that one day he'd get what you felt for him.

"We can't do this anymore, Vigil."

You'd love to say that it came as a surprise when he, one day, called you to meet up and told you these words.

But you knew subconsciously. Felt it. Long before he actually said the words, they were coming.

His calls had been less frequent, his visits rarer, and to your confusion, his eyes began to look different whenever you saw him. They looked clearer, and happier.

Only after you saw him at the party after your successful operation in Chicago did you understand. He did look happier.

But not because of you.

And only then did you realize that your brain had played a trick on you. You were so consumed by your feelings for him that you didn't realize how big the rift between you two had gotten.

He laughed.

Simon Riley laughed heartily for the first time since you knew him. Not just one of his usual chuckles that he reserved for your or Soap's jokes.

No, true deep laughter that came from deep within his chest.

And all because of a joke that the woman next to him had told him.

You didn't know her; you had never even seen her face before. She was a complete stranger to you, and yet Ghost rested a hand on her hip as if she belonged to him. As if she was his fucking girlfriend.

Soap looked at you, then who you were staring at.

"That's Ghost's new lass, I heard. Can't believe that guy found someone before us, eh? Surprised me too, I tell ya."

His words were like poison, and you tasted bile in your mouth. So much made sense to you now.

"Why not? I thought you liked it?! I enjoy it every time."

"That's not relevant anymore. I'm just telling you, Y/N. This thing is done. I won't come here anymore."

"But-"

"Let's just forget this happened, alright?"

"...."

"Okay."

You hadn't even been able to argue. Or tell him your feelings.

After all, you were the one who said you could never be in a relationship with him or fall in love with him. It was pathetic to get back on your words and admit it in front of him.

So you just shut your mouth and accepted his words for the time being.

A tiny voice in your head whispered that you could tell him your feelings later when he calmed down a bit. When he started to miss you.

You knew the whole situation with Hassan was getting to him and the others, so you cut him some slack. You thought he would change his mind. Believed it. Blindly.

But now, here you were. Looking like a fool. Feeling like one. Being one.

And the thing was, you couldn't even say anything to him.

He was the one who made you happy. Who made you want to be better. Less traumatized, more whole.

You could see in his eyes that she was that to him. Not you.

So, what right did you have to intervene?

You wanted him to be happy, after all.

How could you deny him that? You both had gone through so much.

She seemed to be the complete opposite of you. She basically glowed in the room, her smile radiant, and her aura was light as if the world had blessed her to never know hardship.

Her frame was soft, and her skin unblemished, untainted by the cruelty and darkness that existed in the world.

You couldn't help but compare yourself to her.

Your cracks, the marks of your trauma, made themselves known through various scars on your body. Your hands were rough, covered with old blisters; so unlike hers, and you were all jagged and sharp edges, while she looked so cute and bubbly.

You could see her appeal, and it hurt to think that way, but in another world, in different circumstances, you could see her as your potential friend. She just had the appearance and aura of someone who people gravitated toward. A soothing soul.

In that sense, you could understand Ghost. Why he searched her side. But you fucking hated it.

As lovely as she seemed, right now in this bar; you couldn't help but despise her.

She took him from you.

A voice whispered in your head. The ugliness of that thought made you want to throw up, because didn't it prove that you weren't completely right in the head?

Ghost wasn't your property. He had his own free will, and just because she appeared didn't mean she stole him away.

After all, he never belonged to you anyway.

This was probably why Ghost didn't chose you, you thought to yourself. Your ugly jealousy and possessiveness were rearing their heads.

I wouldn't choose myself either.

You felt like crying, but you couldn't even do that.

You hadn't cried for years now, and although the pain in your heart was worse than any of the bullet wounds you had received during your career, not a single tear welled up in your eyes.

You were truly broken. And the man who could fix you wasn't at your side. He would never be.

You looked at the two of them once more. An ugly thing clawed at your chest, begging to get out. Your vision turned red. You clenched your fists.

You had to get out of here. Now.

"You okay, Vigil?" Soap asked next to you, noticing that you seemed a bit off.

"Yeah. I just- think I didn't turn my stove off. I got to go."

You mumbled before you turned around and hurried to the exit of the bar. Soap tried to protest, but you were out the door before he could even finish his sentence:

"But you just arrived- Damn... off she goes."

He sighed and looked towards that woman and Ghost. They made eye contact. As if Simon was already looking at him. Or you.