#but she probably won't be here until the summer

[abysskeeper]

I still just...can't fathom why they're denying the opportunity in front of them...and thus why they're denying me professional development

[dokyeomini]

almost finished with the letter and truly... if i had more time.. i would write a shorter letter shkdlb

[corollaservant]

Lotus // Choso x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: He was supposed to have his brother's undivided attention. Until he invited you over for summer break. Since he loves him that much, you're the one who's paying. (5.8k)

Warnings: 18+ dark, dubcon/noncon, humiliation, college, f.masturbation, use of "nii-chan" from Yuji, obsession/yandere brother, degradation, violence, dacryphilia, breath+impact play, dom!choso, reader gets a sunburn but it's mentioned 1x? and only as feeling pain

A/N: yk how everyone always makes Choso the nerdy, creepy, virgin perv? well i kinda want it reversed (he has killed people btw) [ao3]

Choso loves his family. That's why he doesn't like you.

Seriously, couldn't his brother not bring you over his place for summer break? He gets it, Yuji is young and can never say no, his best friend turned him down for a summer course and Choso guesses you were his second choice. Though Yuji would never tell him that. Or you for the matter. Choso can't wrap his head around why Yuji likes you so much. He knows his brother, no actually, he loves his brother so he knows it's not some crush otherwise Yuji would've shyly approached him and confessed. It seems like his brother just genuinely has a great time with you and that pisses him off. You're loud, that's fine, so is Yuji. But Yuji’s smart, caring, sensitive. You on the other hand... you break things on your way, stumble, laugh obnoxiously and make a mess in his clean kitchen. You're insufferable. So of course, Choso scoffs and rejects Yuji's offer at first.

"She's not coming over, Yu." He tells his little brother, "This was supposed to be our bonding time, remember? I planned out both weeks for us." Choso was excited—he really was. Getting to have his brother around was the best thing that could've happened to him. He'd take Yuji to the movies, carousel, beach, for beers; ok, no, he laughs, he'd definitely get them in a club, maybe a casino? Some strip show? Yuji was an adult now and Choso couldn't wait to listen to his college stories; though he knew there probably weren't many, judging by how nice his brother was. Really, a very likeable kid (adult, he corrects himself).

Yuji begs him. Tells him you'll help around the house, says you've never travelled before, you don't have any plans and you won't cause trouble. It's when Choso starts doubting himself. Ok sure, Choso isn't young per se, but he's definitely fun to be around, right? Does his brother seriously not think he's cool enough anymore? Would he be sad if he said no? He can't stand the thought of making his brother sad. Not because of him, that's certain. This is why he now has you in his house strutting around in flimsy shorts and a barely covering shirt, puffy eyes from your sleep and messy hair. On his kitchen counter asking if there's coffee. He scoffs.

"I made some. For Yuji. You can get some yourself.” He's been up hours ago, went for his run and excitedly waits for his brother to wake up. But now you’re there. Choso couldn't wake Yuji up, he practically spoiled him anyway he could, sleep was no exception. However, you and Yuji unfortunately do not share the same schedule so he is cursed (because blessed would be a euphemism at best) with your presence.

"Alright, damn." You groan, ever since you got there, he seems constantly pissed off with you, but you just woke up, you’re groggy and in his house so you can't do much but yawn. You walk past him, he's too absorbed in his phone, not bothering to look. 

"When do you think Yuji will be up?" He asks, as the smell of coffee suddenly makes you feel alive again.

"Oh I don't know, I'll wake him up soon, we'll go for a swim today." You giggle, you'd been so excited to go to the beach, swimsuits were the first thing you packed. Yuji told you about this beach he wanted you to go to, you’d promised to bring your polaroid and take pictures.

"No, you're not." Choso lifts his head up as he puts the phone down. "Me and Yuji have plans today. You can chill here, we'll be back before 9." It’s sharp and sounds non-negotiable as you stop in your tracks.

"What plans? I didn't know—"

"Why would you? This is our day, you guys can hang later or whatever." But Choso is already pissed. Like actually pissed. If you don’t know then…hadn't Yuji told you or were you just that dumb? He weighs in on the latter. Regardless, he can't argue with a girl his brother's age.

"But I–" You try to protest, as you stand next to the counter, your mug in your hands and you haven't even taken a sip when you’re cut off.

"I'll go wake him up now. Oh, and wear some proper clothing, will you? You've taken this family trip way too seriously." He spits and heads upstairs, leaving you dumbfounded. Coffee suddenly doesn't make you feel that alive. 

-

Yuji is sad. Sad because none of you want to compromise. Choso arranged for them to rent bikes and tour around town; the boardwalk along the seafront was ideal for the activity. His brother had always been athletic and loved the idea so Choso had contacted the shop owner to rent in advance. He knew he was creepy, who the hell rented a bike a week prior? It’s not like they wouldn’t find one. Still, the store closed at 4 PM and it was already past one (Yuji and his sleep) so they’d have to hurry. He’d prepared lunch and was excited for some brotherly time. As for you? Choso honestly didn’t care. You could go for a walk for all that mattered, it’d be four hours at most, you’d be fine. But then there was you, reminding Yuji of the impulsive promise he gave you twelve hours ago. The truth lies in the middle. Yuji mixed up the days—could you blame him? You and Choso bombarded him with plans and ideas meanwhile the poor boy only wanted to rest and enjoy his vacation. So he’d told you about today, when he’d promised Choso days ago. 

‘’Guys, I’m so sorry.’’ Yuji frowns as you both look at him. ‘’I promise, we can do both! One has to call it off so we can do theirs tomorrow.’’ His eyes gleam like usual, but he looks anxious. Probably because he knows both of you. 

‘’But you promised me first.’’ Choso speaks, he doesn’t sound condescending, he’d never raise his voice at his baby brother.

‘’Yeah, well he promised me yesterday!’’ You retort childishly. It’s like a race you two have, who will answer first, a competition, who can win Yuji over.

‘’Please don’t fight, we can do both, come on now, who wants to do their activity tomorrow?’’ Yuji sighs, looking across the kitchen table. He’s the youngest, but he sounds like a kindergarten teacher at the moment.

‘’Yuji, what do you want?’’ Choso emphasizes. Good, that should give him his answer, he thinks.

‘’Yeah, Yuji, why don’t you tell Choso our plan is waay more fun?’’ You consider sticking out your tongue but one look at Choso and you keep your mouth shut.

‘’You know I can’t choose! I love both.’’ He pouts. ‘’Don’t make me do this, can’t you guys figure it out on your own? I’m serious. I’m sorry…” Yuji’s eyes fall. Choso can tell and he suddenly feels responsible. Not for his plans, no. For seeing a sadness cross his brother's face. His heart aches seeing him so passionate to end this stupid debate, so caring, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. He deep down wishes he came first. Choso’s older now and he realizes he can’t continue; a sigh leaves his lips as he speaks up. 

‘’It’s fine, Yu. Be back soon.’’ He backs off. Again. He has to put up a front for his brother. He doesn’t bother giving you a glance, as he exits the kitchen. He wonders if he’s ever despised someone that much before. To the point of choking them…no, not that. That’d be too nice for you. You deserve an agonizing death. He imagines your body stretched out on a medieval rack as your limbs crack one by one. You hadn’t been there more than a day and you were already fucking up his schedule. And in his own house, too. As if dressing like some whore wasn’t enough, seriously what ever happened to modesty? In his head his thoughts make sense, a stranger meddling in his newly amended relationship with his brother. Did you even know how much he cherished him? The lengths he’d go to protect and be there for him? This summer break was supposed to be more than a brotherly reunion. He wanted to be Yuji’s friend this time. He bets you don’t even know what it’s like to have no one around. 

He might go for another run, he considers. You’d be gone within a week. But even when his thoughts subside, he still thinks of ways to put you in your place for good.

-

By the time you’re home, polaroids in your bag and salt on your skin, Choso is pacing up and down the living room. It’s 8:30 PM and Yuji hasn't texted him since noon. 

‘’Where the hell were you, Yuji?’’ Choso completely ignores you as he looks at his brother, who is licking off a half melted ice cream and flaunts a newly acquired tan.

‘’Did you get a sunburn?’’ Choso’s anxious, damn it that kid, always failing to reapply SPF.

‘’I’m fine, nii chan.’’ Yuji laughs, as some ice cream falls on the floor. ‘’I’ll go take a shower or do you wanna go first?’’ He asks you.

‘’She can go first.’’ Choso tells him and you’re taken aback.

‘’Really?’’ You sound surprised. There’s no way he’d ever be kind to you, you knew that seconds after you met him. 

‘’Yeah, want to have some time with Yuji, before we head out.’’ He sounds casual as he brings a wipe to clean Yuji’s ice cream. His back muscles flex under his compression shirt, he looks kind of messy, had he worked out again? Unruly hair falls on his eyes as you try to tear away your gaze.

‘’C-cool.. I’m going upstairs.’’ You announce and leave, stumbling on the first step. What did you think of right now? 

Choso’s bathroom is spacious and allows you to take your sweet time rinsing salt and sunscreen off your skin. Yuji may have not been sunburnt but you couldn’t say the same. Your skin aches as you lather your back and thighs, were you sunburnt everywhere? You make a mental note to apply some moisturizing cream you brought. You had a good time with Yuji, he told you about his best friend’s summer course (financial crime, corruption and money laundering— dude sounded weird) and not being able to make it, how they’d meet and how his relationship with Choso had drastically changed in the span of a year. Yuji didn’t even know about Choso and took some time to warm up to him. As his brother, that is. But Choso was the best brother he could have, he told you. You had trouble believing that. Choso’s demeanor was far from.. best. You sigh remembering your brief coffee encounter. How he’d looked at you above his phone, his cold eyes with tired bags under as his long hair fell on his face, unruly and..sexy. What? Why do you think that? Your mind goes through images like a film projector—his long torso peeking under his compression shirt as he stretched and accidentally revealed a v-line and a happy trail. You feel a sting as water falls down the drain; the lotus and white tea fragrance from the body foam he has envelops your face. You close your eyes and think of him in more…compromising scenarios. Behind you for example. Strong arms snaking around your waist as he presses against you, droplets falling between you while his mouth latches on your neck. A muscular, veiny hand finding your chest and caressing gently…only to move to your lower belly and lazily circle around the entrance. You fight the urge to let a soft moan as you imagine him teasing. Yeah, he’d definitely tease your slit up and down, pecking on your neck until you begged. ‘’Choso..please! J-just one finger!’’ and he’d laugh, mouth contracting on your delicate neck and rubbing around your clit. You’re getting yourself off, what the hell are you doing right now? But could you really blame yourself? You never thought of Choso like that but you do now so you can’t question it further. You let a finger slip slowly inside you. It’s wet and fills you up well—not as good as you think Choso’s thick, calloused fingers would, but it does the job. You wonder how good he’d feel and you’re getting yourself off only by picturing his fingers. You’re suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. 

‘’Aren’t you done yet? It’s been half an hour. Get out.’’ Choso growls behind the door, you remove your finger and quickly gulp down. 

‘’I’m almost done.’’ You faintly say, shit, the man you had fingers in your cunt for, interrupted your daydream…of him. You quickly rinse off excess shampoo and exit. God, you needed to get laid instantly. 

-

When you come downstairs, Yuji is nowhere to be found. Choso is sitting on the couch, the TV plays a show he doesn’t watch as he scrolls on his phone.

‘’Where’s Yuji?’’ You’re wearing Yuji’s old T-shirt from when he was a gamer and skater and nothing under it. In your defense, it’s long and covers almost up to your knees. He doesn’t turn around.

‘’He left. Sent him off to meet his friend, his parents dropped him off.’’

‘’What friend?’’ As far as you knew Yuji told you all his friends were busy with summer courses.

‘’His best friend, Megumi, don’t even know that?” He sneers. Megumi? The money laundering guy?

But he—

‘’He’s not staying long.’’ He has to be joking. 

‘’Why didn’t you tell me? I wanted to meet him, Yuji told me–’’

‘’Why should I? Yuji needs time with some real friends. Told him you felt sick or whatever.’’ 

‘’Are you serious? Why would you do that? Where are they?’’ You can’t believe this guy, first he treats you like a pile of shit, then he’s nice to you by offering you to go first…wait. Did he send you up first so he could convince Yuji to go out without you? Could he be so shitty?

‘’Oh my fucking God, that’s why you told me to shower first didn’t you? What did you even tell Yuji?’’ This guy is unbelievable and you fight the urge to rip his hair out from the back. 

‘’Does it matter? He’s already gone. Serves you right.’’ Choso sounds relaxed, like he just stated tomorrow’s itinerary. 

‘’And what am I supposed to do here, huh? God, you’re so fucking annoying, I swear I’m texting Yuji right now.’’ You realize your phone’s upstairs and before you can turn around, a strong palm grabs your wrist forcefully.

‘’One more step and you’ll be spitting blood.’’ His eyes burn as you feel the pain from his grip.

‘’Let— go...’’ You ask, more like beg as he throws your hand away, it burns, partly due to the sun but also from the pressure of his grasp. 

You slowly drag your feet to the kitchen as you think of ways to hurt him. You hate this guy, you simply exist and he decides upon making your life living hell. Sure, he doesn’t do anything dramatic but he’s constantly interfering with your friendship. Yuji wants you there, he acts like he’s some unprotected child and constantly monitors him. You grab a glass from the cupboard as you feel the words slip out your mouth involuntarily.

‘’Yuji doesn’t like you.’’ You lie and before you even have the chance to have a sip, the glass soars in the air and falls with a loud thump, shattering in a million pieces as you’re turned to look at him. 

‘’What the fuck did you just say?’’ He spits. He scares you, you think, the way he’s hovering; he seems really angered.

‘’I said–’’ You can’t continue. Because he slaps you. On your face. With his palm. And it hurts so badly, you feel tears prick at your eyes, your wrist hurts and you can’t move around— each time the burn catches up to you. 

‘’Why don’t you say that again?’’ He goes on, he has not moved and still waits for your answer.

‘’S-stop..!” You muffle, as you bring a hand to your face, you want this resolved immediately, you’re kind of defenseless, since your phone’s out of your reach and you are alone. He also is extremely strong and it doesn’t help that you anger him, his muscles tense and you notice the veins on his neck pulsating.

‘’Useless bitch.’’ He hisses, ‘’Yuji doesn’t like me? Look at you and your pathetic self. You think he likes you? Yuji likes everyone, wake the fuck up. At first I thought he fucked you, cause why else would anyone want to hang out with you?’’ Choso is fed up with you. Fed up with being nice, fed up with compromising. In all honesty, he’d probably be fed up with anyone but Yuji, but you’re just the cherry on top. Did you seriously think you could try to contact Yuji? The fact you even dared to speak on his name angers him even more. And that’s why he continues while you break down slowly. 

‘’You come here, in my place to hang out with my brother. Dressing up like some common cockwhore and you know what? I really wouldn’t give a fuck, but taking him away from me? Did you two have fun at the beach? You wanted him to fuck, yeah? Otherwise, what are you even good for?’’ He goes on to bring a hand on your cheeks, squishing and bringing your mouth to open like a fish. Tears that welled up in your eyes now fall sideways as he mocks. Your back slams against the counter, you think you feel your feet touch glass splinters as you tremble. You ache everywhere and he keeps going. 

‘’S–ow-’’ You manage, you can’t articulate coherently and feel nauseous. 

‘’Wanna speak up?’’ His mouth twitches but he still isn’t fully smiling. He has to hide it for now. Each moment that goes by, he feels an immense pleasure. It’s like he takes out all his anger that he kept inside the previous days and he doesn’t want to stop. Not when his palm moves your pathetic face left and right, like he’s viewing some artifact. In the insanity of it all, he feels his cock hard. He is unconsciously rubbing on your t-shirt (Yuji’s t-shirt) and your face looks oddly pretty, puffy cheeks adorned with tears and wide pleading eyes. 

‘’L-uh- oh’’ You try to speak out and he gets exactly what you’re trying to communicate. 

‘’Y-Yu- i’’ You call out his brother's name. Seriously, it's like you’re asking for it.

‘’What about my brother, huh?’’ A hand is removed as more air fills your lungs. You sob. You feel searing pain in your chest, among all other body parts— fingerprints sit on both of your cheeks. 

‘’Y-Yuji— is.. he..is not..’’ You can hardly keep up, he is in close proximity and your tailbone hits against the counter from the way he has his body pressed onto you. A hardness pokes at your belly and you think that this wasn’t what you had in mind in the shower. He is aggressive and looks like he won’t back off soon.

‘’Not what? Speak the fuck up.’’ 

‘’N-not like this.’’ You cry. You can’t understand how these two are even related. Yuji’s a sunshine, the kindest soul you’ve known, of course he wouldn’t want to fuck you, he just felt sorry that you didn’t have plans and offered up some company. He’d do it for anyone. You were naive at times but you knew it was the reason you were there. Yuji couldn’t say no. He must’ve also not been aware of his brother’s rage otherwise you wouldn’t find yourself in this position. 

‘’You’re right.’’ Choso takes you out of your thoughts. ‘’He isn’t. But I am. It’s your lucky day.’’ His left hand is on the counter behind you, so there goes your chance to leave. To your left, there’s an exit. You could run. But your eyes betray you and his palm abrasively pushes your left shoulder back. 

‘’Don’t even fucking consider this.’’ He says as his knee nudges yours to the side. You’re standing the whole time and the rough poke makes your legs buckle—you almost fall but you’re brought to stand upright as he lifts Yuji’s shirt.

‘’Shit, wearing his shirt and everything, as if you’d ever be good enough to be his girlfriend.’’ He mocks, but his eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your chest as you wriggle under him. 

Choso is determined this punishment exceeds medieval torture. And you should definitely look on the bright side, you’d enjoy it by the end.

‘’Finger yourself.’’ He orders and your eyes widen. 

‘’W-what..’’ You tremble. He raises his right hand and you flinch but he goes on to move a strand stuck on your lips.

‘’Stop playing deaf. Touch your cunt like you did in the shower. What? Think I didn’t listen? That’s the type of nasty whore you are.’’

You can’t do it. You can’t— so he does it for you. His right palm brings your hand in between your open legs as you feel your own palm push against your entrance. He touches on your middle finger and slowly brings it in between your lower lips. He slips in your finger, which has to contract by the pressure he’s applying but his rough hand touches you too and you cry.

‘’C-Choso.. s—stop..’’ He moves your finger up and down your pussy, which lubricates steadily the more something’s thrusted inside it and then decides to stick his finger too. You gasp as it fills you fully and he finally breaks out a smile, seeing you cute and vulnerable like this really makes his cock hard. Your pretty eyes beg for him to stop but he can’t; it’s too good and you’re almost enjoying it already. 

‘’That’s right. It feels good, doesn’t it? Bet you were thinking about Yuji in the shower, weren’t you? It’s okay, I can show you how I fuck too.” Choso wants to turn you around and stuff his cock inside you without protest but that wouldn’t count as torture so he has to suppress his strained urge. He’ll make good use of that nuisance of a mouth you have first.

Both hands are removed from your cunt, slick trickles down your forcibly open thighs— the position makes your hips automatically open and buck up and you’re panting, scared and embarrassed that your body betrays you. Choso’s face is flushed, a red scarring which you hadn’t seen up close, seems even more crimson, as he gets you off the counter and pushes your elbows down. You’re dropped on the floor, right in front of a long bulge—you can pretty much expect what’s to follow but still make a timid effort.

‘’Cho–Choso, please..’’ but before you know it, his sweatpants are removed and you’re cut off by his cock in your mouth. Salty precum lingers on your tongue—not long, before he starts thrusting his hips in your mouth, fucking your face. You choke and gargle; he’s big and his girth squeezes around your palate as he hits the back of your throat, “Fucking finally..” he groans, “..good for once.” He praises, as if you make some conscious effort. 

He suddenly pulls out—spittle falls down his cock as he grabs you by the roots of your hair. You must be a funny sight, plush, swollen lips, puffy eyes, a wet, anticipating cunt and precum staining his brother’s shirt as he brings his face closer. Something urges him to kiss you. He wants to taste your desperation. He brings his mouth on yours, it’s wet and he pushes his tongue inside, he can taste the fluids as you cry. 

‘’Kiss me.” He says and tries harder. This time you comply, his tongue searches your open mouth as you follow his lead. His right palm rests on the counter behind you, trapping you in an embrace, which oddly enough creates a heat in your core. His mouth, despite the forcefulness, feels soft and you aimlessly try to close your legs in hope the nasty feeling goes away. You smell his scent, it must be his shower gel, lotus…and something else you read on the label but can’t remember now. You let tears fall from your eyes as you try to inhale only through your nose— mouth too occupied being devoured by him. 

Choso loves kissing you. He thinks to himself you are perfect, in your own way. So pretty with your mouth distracted and your legs open. For him, only. Yuji would be off limits after that. Not that you’d approach either one after, he guesses. Your kisses only make him eager to stuff your cunt more, his cock aches by the minute, that’s why he lifts you up. You’re so pliable, he thinks. He manhandles you and all you’ve said is a couple broken ‘’please’’. Did you actually want this? He considers the possibility, he isn’t unattractive in the slightest.

Your shirt has to go. He knows it’s Yuji’s but that doesn’t matter now that it has his precum on it. He finds himself wondering whether he fights internally against Yuji or you right now, seeing how he feels a pang of jealousy towards his little brother. But the idea is crazy so he brushes it off hurriedly. Your soft, squishy tits rise and fall to the pace of your anxiety. 

‘’You have pretty tits, does this hurt?’’ He asks as he slaps across your nipple, the skin around burns tenfold and you cry out.

‘’...h-hurts..’’ You yelp and he feigns sorrow.

‘’Aww, sorry, let me make this feel better. We’ve neglected her for some time, haven't we?’’ He looks at your cunt— glistening and lovely, ready to be defiled as he brings a thumb to play with your clit. 

‘’Spit.’’ You’re not that wet, what? It’s okay, he will change it.

You shyly gather spit and let a small glob fall down his digits as he pumps two fingers abruptly inside. Three strokes and your cunt starts drooling, he enjoys the sounds. But more than anything, he enjoys your tormented face, fighting to admit the pleasure you’re getting. His rough thumb circles around your clit as you’re forced to touch behind his neck to not fall off, you grip down his nape, failing to conceal your moans. 

‘’Cho-choso..mhm’’ You whine, brokenly, it pains you to feel so good, so fast. You don’t want this. You don’t.

‘’...Already squeezing down like some slut huh..’’ It takes Choso a lot of strength to not cum in the air like some loser, he’s delayed this too much and now you look irresistible, being fucked by his fingers on his counter. While you cry. And his brother’s out. 

‘’-Mm- Cho- Choso.. stop!’’ You moan, feeling close to an orgasm as he pumps faster and circles the nub simultaneously. Your fluids stain all the way up to his knuckles and if he keeps this up, you’ll probably coat his palm entirely.

‘’---f-fuck Cho–’’ He removes the fingers just before you can give in to the feeling— you pant frustrated. 

‘’Enough. Let’s test out how well that cunt feels… for a slut like yourself.’’ You want to protest, want to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but that’s clearly not an option. In a split second you’re turned over, thrown across the kitchen table, your limbs are stretched out and the direct contact makes you wince, as you clash with your chest. Choso admires the view. He spreads your legs out and you look ready to be fucked into oblivion.

He gives his stiff cock a couple thrusts, his red tip leaks his precum and he groans before his cockhead bumps with your entrance. You moan and he hasn’t even entered you yet as he brings a hand on the curve of your ass and smacks it. 

‘’Stop being so desperate, it’s embarrassing.’’ He sighs as he rubs his cockhead across your slit.

‘’P–please Cho–Choso..’’ You moan, understanding that you have it bad. ‘’W-want you in me...’’ You can’t even lie to yourself at this point, you’re pent up and need him. The rest of unresolved feelings is something you’ll deal with later. 

‘’Fucking needy slut, maybe Yuji was right bringing you over here. Gonna get fucked by his bro like some passed around whore? Want him to stuff you too?’’

‘’N-no! Choso! P–please- ugh.. need you..only you!” You beg as you move your hips, your dignity dissolved a long time ago. 

Choso mumbles something under his breath and pushes his cock to slide in your creamy walls as you moan—desperately. His cock is large and it hurts way more than his fingers, he hasn’t bottomed out yet but you already feel suffocated.

‘’Ch-Choso!’’

‘’What is it, slut? Be patient.’’ He huffs, but he isn’t patient himself as he prods at your cunt deeper, you’re way too tight to take him, squeezing down the entirety (or at least most of what can fit) in your little hole and he has to sigh. Your back muscles contract as your helpless hands tug at the table while he thrusts deeper and deeper, he brings his torso close to yours so he’s next to your hair, which he removes.

‘’Does that feel good? You take me so well for a common whore, baby.’’ He whispers on your neck, you shudder and cry out. 

‘’Mhmagh- Cho-Cho! Y-yes..feels s-so good! Don’t stop! Cho–’’

‘’Are you fucking stupid? Don't…don’t tell me what to do.’’ He straightens himself and grabs your hips. His cock lunges in your cunt, he’s poking at what feels like your cervix, when he slaps your reddened ass. It should appall you, it should make you wince but he notices your pussy tightening and clamping down. So you’re enjoying this? What a nasty fucking slut that you are. 

‘’C-Cho– i ughn I’m cumming fuck!’’ You sob and he fastens his pace. You’re overstimulated, overly teased and over the edge. Your hands scratch against the table as his palms hold your head firm and to the side, he pushes you downward and thrusts his cock in and out, each pump making you gradually lose eyesight until you do… fully. Your vision darkens completely and you blink rapidly as you let go screaming.

‘’C-choso aagh!’’ But he doesn’t listen, his head’s too clouded with the need to fill you up, the need to have his cum seep out your hole as he grabs Yuji’s shirt next to him, rolls it around and hangs it over your neck. You’re being lifted—your back is arched upward, the angle is excruciatingly painful; you’re too sensitive and his cock slides way too deep.

‘’Shit– don’t have much to say now, huh?’’ He asks but you’re choking and fighting for air, your ass bumps against his groin and he needs about three thrusts and a hard final slap on your flesh to finish. 

‘’Fuuuck–shit, r-right there, stay the fuck up!’’ He orders, but it’s not like you have many places to go as you feel a warmth filling you up; it’s funny, you’ve never had anyone come inside before. His load spurts and trickles out and he lets go of the scarf made on the spot, falling on top of you.

He slowly slides his softening cock out and doesn’t tell you another word while his chest rises and falls on your back. He can’t lie to himself, you were too nice. The softness in your shivering skin and sad eyes was too kind. Maybe he shouldn’t have been that hard on you, slapping you like some fly. He clears his throat as he climbs off you. You remain laid out, you seem passed out or freshly dead—you sport multiple marks and semen falls down his counter.

‘’We have to clean up before Yuji gets back.’’ You can barely register what he says but you make out the ‘we’ in the beginning. At least he acknowledges your existence, you think as you try to find your friend’s shirt. 

-

When Yuji returns Choso tells him you’re asleep. He can’t let him know he was cleaning bodily fluids off the kitchen counter. Yuji doesn’t ask more, he is excited to let Choso know about Megumi’s course and Choso listens, though he’s tired. By the time Yuji wakes up, you’re gone, having left a note behind that you ‘’didn’t feel well and changed the flight tickets.’’ When he tries calling you, you don’t pick up and he tells Choso.

‘’I’m sure she’s fine.’’ Choso made breakfast— it’s biking day, the sun shines and Yuji actually woke up earlier than expected (11 AM). His house feels silent, empty in a funny way, almost like you left and took its joy with you. Yuji is visibly upset but Choso reassures him everything’s fine.

‘’Yeah… I guess you’re right. You did say she felt sick yesterday..’’ He reminds him. Did he say that? Well, Choso thinks, it definitely sounds better than letting his little brother know of the sickening things he did— your punishment for daring to be his friend. Maybe he wasn’t lying to Yuji when he said that.

‘’I’ll try again later.’’ Yuji smiles. His voice doesn’t have its usual excitedness but Choso will work on it. He doesn’t have much time. 

‘’We’re still going, right?’’

‘’Sure.’’ Yuji smiles half-heartedly as he stands up.

He heads upstairs and Choso picks up the breakfast plates and puts them in the sink. He stands right at the spot he had you pinned twelve hours ago—defenseless and crying as he slapped you, facefucked you, fingered, choked and ultimately humiliated you. He knows the excuse that he made you cum and the way you looked at him barely holds up. Even if you liked him, it wasn’t right.

He is suddenly overcome by a wave of inexplicable emptiness. It’s a vicious cycle, he thinks. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. He would have driven them away from Yuji in an effort to have him to himself. Then Yuji would be sad and he would feel responsible. It wasn’t ever really your fault. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if you never showed up. It would have benefited all three. Maybe this was never a cycle; the loop would require equal components. You were a labyrinth, a complicated, long path and Yuji was the center. 

[springwitch26]

your writing is so fucking hot and perfect! pls can I request a fic where mel ends up getting possessive and jealous after seeing someone hitting on her girlfriend (reader) at abbott and when they get home, melissa makes sure that her girl knows that belongs to her and nobody else.

(featuring a lot of rough sex and some cute aftercare cuz we all love jealous schemmenti. 🤭)

a dangerous emotion (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: when the new substitute teacher hits on you in front of melissa, you face the dirty consequences of her jealousy.

warnings: smut (18+), jealous sex, aggressive male flirting, mel threatens violence (it's melissa), squirting, like one mention of marking

notes: the sleepy witch is back. hope you like this one anon, sorry if i left it in the oven too long. also sorry for any other deficiencies tbh writing is a struggle rn. bonus points to whoever can spot the gay joke 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 friendly fire.

if looks could kill, this fucking guy would be a pile of ash by now.

the teachers' lounge was uncharacteristically quiet. the tv had been muted; nobody cared to watch the morning news. all eyes flickered between you and the new male teacher on one side of the room, and your seething girlfriend on the other.

the redhead was visibly furious from the moment he walked in the door, eyes dragging down your body in your flowery sundress and matching tights.

"happy first day to me," he murmured to himself, thinking nobody would hear it. it took all of melissa's self-control and professionalism not to punch his lights out.

"spring looks good on you, sweetie," he drawled from behind you as you poured coffee from the communal pot into your favorite mug.

the hem of your dress floated up as you spun around to face him, and he licked his lips. you didn't notice it, but melissa did. her hands tightened into fists in her lap.

"thank you," you smiled warmly at the man in an attempt to be polite. he was tall and stocky, probably just a few years older than you. he seemed like the kind of guy who was used to getting whatever he wanted from women—with his handsome yet cocky grin and large arms crossed in front of his chest. "are you new here?"

"yep, and i like what i see already," he threw you a wink and you looked down at the floor. you heard melissa cracking her knuckles in the background. she only did that when she was holding back, either from pouncing on you or swinging at somebody else. "i'm jesse. i'll be teachin' math up on the second floor until ms. summers gets back from maternity leave."

"well, jesse, welcome to abbott," you said sweetly, hoping to escape this conversation and join your girlfriend on the couch. "i'm a first-grade teacher, so i won't be seeing you much. but it's nice to meet y—"

"actually, i was hoping you'd show me around," he cut you off, taking a few steps toward you. "if i get lost in this building, my preteen students will never let me live it down."

"oh, um..."

before you could finish your thought, he leaned in and whispered something in your ear. melissa saw the whole exchange, enraged at this man's audacity to even breathe in your direction. you were her girl. everybody knew that. and it was time for this guy to learn.

but when melissa stood up to confront him, you did something that made her see red: you walked out with him. the other teachers noticed her anger, of course, and tried to calm her down.

"melissa, relax," barbara said, gently pulling on her best friend's hand and guiding her to sit back down. "he's harmless."

"harmless?" melissa repeated indignantly. "barb, he was lookin' at her like he wanted to bend her over the damn table!"

"you look at her like that all the time..." gregory muttered, and melissa raised an eyebrow at him in accusation. he shrugged and averted his gaze.

"i look at her like i love her!" melissa insisted. "and she's my girlfriend. i get to look at her however i want. this jamie—"

"jesse," janine corrected.

"—can't just walk in and start undressin' her with his eyes!"

"if it helps, i can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything untoward," jacob offered. "i'm pretty much the big dog on the second floor these days. i can set him straight if it comes to that."

"you couldn't even set yourself straight," melissa fired back, and jacob gave the camera a defeated look. "what, you think i can't handle this myself?"

"well, it's just that... jealousy is a dangerous emotion on you," jacob answered tentatively.

"jealousy? what am i, some kinda teenager? i don't get jealous."

"i don't know, you seemed pretty jealous at pecsa last year when the keynote speaker gave y/n his room number," gregory pointed out.

"he was just annoying."

"you poured your math-a-rita on his white suit jacket," janine chimed in.

"the jabroni shouldn't have worn white to a bar!"

"melissa, i know you're protective of y/n, but she's a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," barbara said, placing a comforting hand over the redhead's clenched fists. "she doesn't seem to have a problem with the man. at some point, you just need to trust her judgment."

"yeah, she and i are going to have a little conversation about her judgment when she gets back."

"whose judgment?" you asked as you strode back into the break room, jesse following close behind.

when your question was met with silence and anxious looks from your friends, jesse took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips.

"thanks for the tour, cutie," he said after pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

"thank you," you replied, shifting uneasily and look over your shoulder in anticipation of melissa's reaction. she didn't keep you waiting long.

"hey, hon," melissa approached the two of you, then hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close. "the kids'll be here in half an hour, do you wanna go prep your classroom for the science lab?"

"i did that last night," you replied, not taking the hint.

"of course you did," mel cooed and planted a kiss behind your ear. jesse quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "maybe i just want some alone time with my lovely girlfriend before i start my day. that okay with you?"

you nodded sheepishly and leaned in to her. you could feel her possessive anger in her tough grip on your waist, could see it in the subtle wild edge to her green eyes. despite being in deep trouble, you still relaxed into the warmth of her casual touch and the familiar scent of patchouli on her skin.

jesse took a step back, opening his mouth as if to say something and sighing instead. as you and melissa exited the breakroom, jesse tried one more time to get your attention.

"hey, if you need any more—"

"i think we're good, janine," melissa cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

"it's jesse," the man sighed with a frustrated look at the camera.

---

"what the hell was that, huh?" melissa had you pinned up against her classroom door before you could even process what was happening. "you're givin' free tours now?"

"n-no!" you stammered frantically, squirming with unease (and excitement) at the fiery confrontation. "not free! i only did it so he would give me the extra chairs from his classroom. you know i've been down a few since the eighth graders tried to make 'chairing' a thing, and i can't let my kids spend another day on the floor. it's not fair!"

"how many times have i told you, i can get you anything you need?"

"yeah, and where's your 'chair guy' now? at least jesse can finish the job!"

oh, you fucked up. you knew it the moment the words left your mouth. melissa eased off of you physically, but her intense glare kept you frozen in place.

"we'll talk about this when we get home. i love you; don't forget it," melissa pecked your cheek and you cocked your head, confused at her sudden tranquility. she moved to whisper in your ear. "because tonight, i'm takin' all my jealousy out on you."

---

you had the misfortune of running into jesse one more time before the day was done. he wolf-whistled from behind you as you walked briskly from your classroom to the lobby, ready to meet melissa and head home.

melissa might have broken his nose if jacob and gregory hadn't been there to hold her back. in fact, she was a split-second away from swinging when jacob took hold of her dominant wrist, shaking his head. gregory followed suit with the other.

the redhead tried to wrench her arms free and glared sternly at the young men when she couldn't. sensing her frustration, you hurried over to her. melissa's gaze softened as soon as she saw you leaning over the counter. you gave jacob and gregory an appreciative nod.

the pair let go of her arms and you took her hands in yours. "let's go home," you said.

the two of you walked out of the building as jacob and gregory approached jesse.

"she's not interested, if you're still wondering," jacob said, patting jesse's shoulder in mock sympathy.

"should be pretty obvious by now," gregory added.

"first day, and you pissed off my scariest teacher and my favorite?" ava said while strutting out of her office. "nice career move, jason," she snarked. the teachers gave her a bewildered look. "what? i pay attention!"

---

once you got home, it all happened in a blur. melissa's possessive rage had you slipping into that fuzzy, pliable headspace before she even slammed the bedroom door behind you.

you couldn't concentrate on much besides her forceful touch, fingers digging into your hips and mouth sucking bruises into your neck. her low voice cut through the static occasionally, but she seemed to be venting to herself rather than you.

"mine..." her fingernails dug into the flesh of your waist. "touchin' my girl..." she spaced out the words between nips to your neck. "gotta mark you up, let the whole world know..." she landed a hard swat on your ass, then shoved you off of her. "on the bed."

---

"remind me again what he said when you spilled coffee on your shirt," melissa growled from above you. you were spread out on her bed, naked with your legs kept apart by turquoise ropes tied to the bedposts.

"he said, 'feel free to take it off. i wouldn't complain about the view,'" you whispered back.

"and you just let that slide, hm? you entertained him knowin' all he wanted was an eyeful of your tits?"

"yes, melissa."

"i'm sorry, does someone need a reminder of who owns her? i'm happy to provide, sweet girl. tell me," she dipped a finger into your folds and stroked you lightly, "who gets you this wet?"

"you do, ah, only you," you whimpered as she caressed you.

"uh-huh," she cooed, sounding unsatisfied still. "that's right, baby. and i'm the only one who gets to see you like this."

she gripped your hips harshly before gliding her hands up to your chest. she kneaded the swollen flesh of your tits and then zeroed in on your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them.

"that fucker," melissa began, breathing heavily. "will never know how soft these are."

you shook your head in frantic agreement as she massaged you. one of her hands slipped down between your legs again.

"he'll never hear how your breath catches in your throat when your clit's touched," she whispered, beginning to rub soft circles into your bundle of nerves. "or—" she withdrew suddenly and gave your pussy a swat, "how you cry at a spanking."

her jealous attitude had you soaked and sensitive. you were already close when she brought two fingers to your entrance and pushed in.

"and if he ever even imagines the face you make when you come, that pretty little lip bite you do," melissa pumped and curled her fingers roughly, "i'll take edith houghton to'm."

her speed quickly picked up and soon she was diving into you with force, bullying your g-spot with her fingertips.

"come. now," she ordered, and you fell over the edge. you spasmed around her fingers as she drove them in and out of you. she smirked with pride as she looked down at you.

but when you got too sensitive and started to squirm away from her touch, she doubled down. she pumped her fingers faster, and dipped down to suckle on your clit. you cried out. it felt like you were on fire, but the burn was oh so delicious.

"and he'll never guess what happens when you get all sensitive..." she picked her head up momentarily to say this before sucking hard on your nub and crooking her fingers inside you.

you felt the burn rise into a hot tidal wave. a flood of warm liquid spilled out of you. melissa helped you through it before withdrawing her touch, her hands retreating to your thighs. she looked down at you fondly, smiling with only a tiny bit of smug satisfaction.

"god, i love when you do that," she mused, smiling at your dazed, pretty, happy face. "it's like a gift just for me."

a gift. happy first day to me, he had said.

now reminded, melissa was pissed again. but the venom of her jealousy had trickled away, and now all that remained was an urgent need to give you the love and care you deserved.

"but you said somethin' earlier about 'finishing the job.' and i just feel like my job isn't finished, sweetheart," she smiled and cupped your cheeks. "how's a bubble bath sound?"

"mm-hmmm," you managed, fucked out and delirious.

---

"i really wasn't jealous, ya know," melissa murmured into your ear as you snuggled into bed, her chest pressed against your back.

"i find that hard to believe. i mentioned his name and you ripped my panties," you teased.

"okay, maybe a little bit."

"30 percent?"

"20."

"25."

"fine."

"then what was the other 75 percent?"

"i guess it just pisses me off when people don't treat you right. you're a beautiful angel, not a sex doll."

"i don't want you to feel... to feel like you have to take care of me all the time."

"baby girl, you know i don't do things i don't wanna do. you're the love of my life. i wanna spend every minute treatin' you like a princess."

[crljhnn]

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

[emeritus-fuckers]

The papas (plus sister because she needs more love) - A new ghoul gets summoned but they seem more shy and afraid, how would they react?

Papas and Sister Imperator with a shy, freshly summoned ghoul

Primo (he/him)

He knows what to do, he's seen it once before, but a long time ago.

Sometimes Ghouls just are really shy at first, and scared. Of course they are, the Ministry is a whole different world to them.

You ran straight off and hid. It took Primo a few hours searching to find you hiding in a secluded spot in the garden.

Primo left you there to get used to things and went back to his garden shed. He brewed a very special tea, he wasn't too fond of the smell but that's because it wasn't meant to appeal to him.

He went back to the your hiding place and left a cup just in reach. He smiled as you reached a clawed hand out to take it.

The next day Primo left the cup of tea so it was just out of your reach. You slowly came out to take it and caught sight of Primo.

He smiled and gestured to say it was just him, you looked back at the tea and then to Primo before settling down on the soft summer grass.

"Let me show you around?" Primo says with a kind smile. "I promise you, it will all be okay. And if it ever gets too much you can always come back here. I won't tell a soul that this is your spot and I will bring you tea whenever you need it."

You smiled and swished your tail. With Primo's steadying influence you started to slowly come out of your shell and bond with the other Ghouls.

Secondo (he/him)

You blink open your eyes as you lie on the cold stone and see the most terrifying Papa. His stern gaze and piercing stare had you running for the nearest shadow.

Secondo lets out a huffing sound and orders everyone from the room.

He sits down next to you and to your suprise his expression has softened. "I know its a big change."

You just kind of nod, still very confused by the man.

"And there is a lot to get used to. But there are a lot of exciting things here too and more importantly nice people..." Secondo seems to stop himself saying the rest of the sentence, which would have probably been 'as annoying as they all are'.

You wait for him to carry on and then he says "I will introduce you to my most trusted Ghoul and you will not shy away. In return I can promise you that they will take care of you and look after you, you have nothing to fear. Also, no one will expect you to introduce yourself or talk to them until you are ready to do so."

You nod, still scared but Secondo's gaze is so steady you just trust him, he is Papa after all, the one who summoned you.

Thankfully you settle in well and once you are more relaxed Secondo lets you see his party animal side. Which surpirses you all over again. Who knew he could be like that, eh?

Terzo (he/they)

They really count on Omega in situations like these.

While Terzo has a sort of magnetism that pulls people to him, especially when he flirts like a kindergartener (informing someone about a hole in his shoe, for example), but he also recognizes that a big, strong ghoul might help a new, shy one open up.

And Omega is very inviting unless he's pissed off. Which he never is, if Terzo's in the room. If Terzo's around, Omega is happy. It's a simple equation, really.

And Omega is also very welcoming. You end up feeling safe with their presence pretty soon.

You also end up getting adopted. it's not up for discussion.

Enjoy your new dads, I guess.

Copia (he/him)

Copia has summoned plenty of ghouls by now. He's got experience with the shy ones, too.

Although his previous originally shy ghoul (Phantom) had relatives in the Ministry already, so that was a bit easier.

This time, he's on his own with it.

He just chills in the room, leaving snacks nearby as he just sits in the corner of his room, playing something on an ancient-looking gameboy.

He's just there, not invading your space. It's a bit like with a new puppy.

Eventually, you get closer, stealing his snacks and slowly trying to look at the screen of his console.

And after that, it all goes easy. Yolu eventually get more and more comfortable with him.

You get really involved in the game, too. Copia's not allowed to finish it, watching him play is your comfort source.

Not that he minds, he fucking sucks at that game.

Old Nihil (he/him)

He is just confused, really confused why as to why you are hiding all the time. Normally when freshly summoned, Ghouls have far too much energy and want to see everything.

"Seeeestor, why is the Ghoul broken?" He asks her. She tuts and explains you are not broken just shy.

So Nihil decides to try and help.

He sits near where he knows you hide in the shadows and tells you stories of his youth.

Sometimes these stories are long and rambling and you fall asleep.

Other times they are really interesting and excitng and you find yourself coming out of the shadows to listen.

Nihil grins at you and offers to introduce you to some people he thinks you'll like.

Young Nihil (he/him)

He doesn't really think anything of it, all the Ghouls are odd and different in their own way. Which he loves, all so unique.

He'll just sit with you and offer you a drink or something stronger.

At first you think he is just doing this to help you settle in, but then you realise he has started to rely on you as much as you on him.

It's nice to hang out with him, very laid back and you two can just be yourselves. There is never any pressure to talk or anything.

When you feel a little more confident Nihil offers to teach you the saxophone. He's learning too and thought it would be fun to learn together.

He produces some, err, interesting noises from the instrument at first but he quickly gets better. Partly due to your support, you are the only person he feels comfortable enough to make mistakes in front of.

He also invites you along to parties or his shows or anythin really, but never puts pressure on you to come along. If you do agree he gives you the biggest smile and puts an arm around you showing you all the cool things. He'll keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get overwhelmed.

Old Sister Imperator (she/her)

As intimidating as she can be, she's also a very caring, motherly woman.

She will inform you where you are, who she is and why you're there.

All while calling you "little one", as if you're a child.

And while there's always this slightly unnerving feeling of authority she has over you, you actually like her! She's nice!

She leaves you snacks, small plushies and fidget toys so you can have some nice things that will comfort you in this new situation you've gotten yourself into.

She leaves one of her ghoulettes with you for comfort. She doesn't mind waiting. Take your time.

Young Sister Imperator (she/her)

A lot more intimidating and a lot less motherly than she is later in life, Sister Imperator wasn't the most patient in her youth.

She summoned a ghoul because she needed one now, not later.

Still, she's not cruel, she's not gonna just... abandon you. She can summon another ghoul for the matter at hand and then just... find some use for you.

She checks up on you regularly, just sitting in the room for a bit. it's almost like a break for her, honestly.

Over time, as you both become more and more comfortable with each other, she starts viewing you like a little pet.

She likes playing with your hair and tail. She's always incredibly gentle with you, too.

Perhaps she's already found your function. A companion. A little pet.

Doesn't sound so bad, does it?

~

Papas I, II and Papa Nihil written by Nyx.

Papas III, IV and Sister Imperator written by Nosferatu.

[sailorholly]

Caught

Summary: After you wear a skimpy bikini to catch the unsub, Spencer can’t get the image of you out of his head.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Masterbation.

A/N: Between Us will be a little late this week! So have this oneshot until it’s ready! ❤️

See my Masterlist Here

Sharing a room with Spencer had never been a problem. Everyone always partnered up so quickly, you two were often left with no choice but to room together. You were used to it by now, this was probably the tenth time.

He always stayed on his side of the bed when there was only one. You had a routine when it came to bedtime. You would take your shower first, while he laid out his clothes for the next day. When you were finished, he would take his while you read, snuggled in the bed.

It had been a strange day. You, JJ, and Emily had to go undercover to catch the unsub. He found his victims at the hotel pool he worked at as a lifeguard. He would stalk women on their vacations and kidnap them, holding them hostage until the next summer came around. He would kill them at the start of the summer and begin looking for his next victim.

So here you were, lounging by the pool in a bikini, hoping the unsub would target one of you. Rossi and Hotch stayed in a van outside watching the whole thing. Morgan and Spencer were also at the pool, by the bar so they could keep you safe if things went sideways.

Morgan flirted with each of you before you went out, shamelessly checking out your bikini clad bodies. Spencer was acting strangely. He spoke with JJ and Emily right before you went to the pool, but when you came up to him, he made an excuse to leave.

As you waited for the unsub to come down for his shift, you went over every interaction you had with Spencer today. You wondered if you said something to upset him, but you couldn't think of anything. The unsub finally came out, selecting JJ as a target. When he grabbed her as she went to the bathroom, Morgan pulled him off her, handcuffing him immediately.

You all went out to eat after he was in police custody. It was a long flight back home, so Hotch made the decision to stay for another night. At dinner, Spencer was back to his normal self with you. You were glad he got out of his weird mood. You didn't want to share a room with him if he was going to avoid you the whole time.

When you got back to the hotel, you and Spencer settled into your normal routine. You grabbed your pajamas out of your bag, heading to the bathroom. You hurried through your shower routine, skipping shaving your legs. You just wanted to relax in bed. You reach to turn the door handle when you hear something that stops you. Is Spencer crying? You hear him whining again. Something must be wrong with his mom.

You start to worry, but don't want to disturb him. He obviously thought you were in the shower and wanted to cry privately. You open the door just enough so you can look out. You'll shut it as soon as you know he's okay. Instead of crying, Spencer has his large hand wrapped around his cock. His head is thrown back, exposing his neck, veins clearly visible as he fucks his hand. His long lashes brush his sculpted cheeks under tightly closed eyes.

He is breathing heavily as his hand travels from root to tip. He takes his time, moaning when he reaches the leaking tip. His thumb swipes over it, gathering the pre cum formed there, and dragging it back down the length of him. You shouldn't be watching something so intimate. But you can't stop yourself. He is so beautiful, dark curls spread on the pillow.

A few moments pass before you decide to shut the door, as you gently scoot it, handle turned so it won't click as it closes, Spencer says something. Well moans it really, you listen closely. He couldn't have said what you thought.

Spencer knew you like the back of his hand. You would be in the bathroom for twenty minutes and forty-three seconds. He still had nine minutes, thirty-one seconds before you would return. He would normally wait to pleasure himself until it was his turn in the shower. But, seeing you in that tiny bikini earlier almost made him cum in his pants like a teenager.

He couldn't wait, as soon as he heard the lock click into place and the water running in the bathroom, he freed himself. He moans your name, knowing you couldn't possibly hear him due to the water flowing in the shower. He tugs his cock, the image of you on your knees in that bikini flooding his mind.

You sink down in front of him, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric of your bikini top. You smile as you take him all the way in the back of your throat. You would struggle to take all of him at first. They always do. You would power through it for him. You want to make him feel good.

He imagines you bobbing your head on him, cheeks sucking in, and tongue flicking across the veins decorating his cock. He would place a hand on your head to keep you in place. He would use his free hand to caress your cheek, feeling how full it was with him inside. Then he would bring it down to your breasts. His long fingers dipping beneath the bikini top to play with your nipples.

You would moan around his length, the vibrations almost making him explode. But he would hold back. He wanted to make this last. His hand would eventually travel lower, pulling your bikini bottoms to the side. He would swipe through your center, finding you soaking wet just for him.

Spencer would roll his thumb over your clit, while sinking two slender fingers deep inside you. He would curl them against your inner walls, tapping against that spot that would make you see stars. You would come undone around his fingers, your cries of ecstasy finally sending him over the edge. He would explode in your mouth, loving the way you swallow every drop.

Spencer shook as his orgasm hit him, calling out your name once again. He glanced at his watch, he still had fifty-five seconds before you would come out. He cleaned himself quickly, standing to put his now dirty shirt away. When he notices the bathroom door ajar, your wide eyes staring at him.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asks, his voice raising an octave. "Long enough." You answer, a knowing smile on your face. You walk to your go bag, putting away your toiletries. "I can explain." He starts, his face flushing red. "It's really okay. But Spencer?" He looks up, curls falling in his eyes. "I can do that for you next time." You wink as he looks shocked, stumbling toward the bathroom.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @khxna @im-this-girl @queenshu

[adore-laur]

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around." 

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those? 

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 

Snap out of it! 

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 

Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 

Everything used to be so easy with him. 

—— 

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 

"Knock knock." 

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 

—— 

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 

"Were my hands dirty or something?" 

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked." 

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 

"What did we do wrong?" 

—— 

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him? 

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 

Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 

"Fine," you repeated. 

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in. 

—— 

The open sign of the diner flickers below. 

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down." 

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?" 

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me." 

And so he does it for the last time. 

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave. 

Don't hurt yourself. 

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 

Why? 

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 

You still mean so much to me. 

—— 

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 

—— 

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 

January 29th 

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room? 

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 

I hope she sees the same thing. 

June 6th 

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 

I always have time for her. 

August 2nd 

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night. 

So he can be reminded of home. 

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 

——

[mortalfaerie]

hi here's a little series on what i think the gravity falls kids grew up to do since they're 25 now

Pacifica "Paz" Northwest

after weirdmagedden, she became increasingly disenchanted with her parent's and their worldview, which led her to start questioning the structures around her

though they sold the mansion, her parents had a lot of money in real estate and they live in a condo building they own in town

she took a job at greasy's diner initially as an act of rebellion but stuck around throughout high school because it gave her a refreshing taste of the real world

she got really into politics, also initially as an act of rebellion, but did eventually become a really staunch take-no-shit feminist and went to protests in portland

she reconnected with the twins one summer during their teen years once she had "been cured of her rich girl mentality" (-mabel) and she and mabel became pretty close. things remained a little awkward with dipper when they were teens, but they relaxed once he realized she did actually care about mabel and wasn't going to hurt her

she's actually very analytical and level headed, which makes her a good foil to dipper - who continues seeking out mysteries to solve in gravity falls

she continued competitive golf and even won some local and regional titles in the women's junior division, which gets her an offer to go play golf at UCLA (conveniently, also where dipper goes)

she got access to her trust fund when she turned eighteen, and relies a lot less on her parents after that. she continues to try to have a relationship with them but it very aware of the toll they take on her, leading her to go low-contact with them in university.

she joins a sorority (i think kkg, she feels like a kappa) and probably ends up as treasurer or some other leadership position

she majors in political science, makes the dean's list, and gets an honors degree. she considers becoming a lawyer, but decides she's more interested in public policy & decides to go into policy analysis & international relations

she and dipper have a prolonged will-they-won't-they throughout college, finally getting together in the summer before their senior year. this borrowed from rockslide on ao3 but hilariously, she doesn't realize he's trans until she sees his too surgery scars for the first time because 1) she only ever knew him as a guy and 2) she only saw him in the summers growing up.

her parents disapprove of their relationship and generally the pines family, which is the straw that breaks the camel's back for her to go fully no contact. after that point, she's embraced by the pines family as one of their own.

she graduates magnum cum laude and dipper is her biggest supporter. he gets an offer to do his doctorate in archeology at king's college london, which ends up working perfectly because she gets a job at the us embassy in london.

they move to england together and rent a flat in a new building because even though the historic ones are beautiful, she can't deal with more ghosts.

i think by this point they've been there for two and a half years and they've gotten a cat (named tyrone, or ty for short) and dipper's just made the transition from phd student to phd candidate and started his dissertation.

[eightstarr]

i always see loser ellie but what about loser abby???

anon you do not know the spiral this caused in my brain. you've created a monster. i would love to get requests for loser abby!! but in the meantime here's a couple silly headcanons that i can't stop thinking about <3

she spends all day thinking of excuses to text you but does not even come close to actually doing it unless it's something that sounds in every way like it has nothing to do with her wanting to see you. she can't ask you to hang out but she'll casually remember that you've been meaning to read this one book that she just so happens to have and oh, would you like to borrow it sometime?

on the very rare occasion that she's texting you asking for something, she has to start with "sorry, i know you're probably busy!" every time. tell her "i'm never too busy for you abs :)" and it's going to be the first time ever that she doesn't answer you in less than 30 seconds. she'll stare at her phone for so long with her hands frozen in place and her cheeks burning pink.

remembers everything and anything you've ever said to her. she won't write about you like ellie does though, it's all in that pretty head of hers!! stored safely forever!!

sooo jealous it's insane. jealous of your friends for making you laugh and the couch you're sitting on because it could be her lap instead and the barista because he smiled at you without blushing like she would and the sun in the summer for making you sweat and—

also doesn't realize that she's going on dates with you until you kiss her at the end of the fourth one. but it's fine because her heart might feel like she's going into cardiac arrest but also she's thought about this for too long and it's abby, she's a smart girl first and a loser second, so she's not going to freeze!! it's a perfect kiss and she made sure of it.

you will have to remind her that you like her as in "not like just a friend, no" as in "yes, i want to fuck you" as in "you're my girlfriend, abby" like at least once a week <3

[throneofsapphics]

murder in her eyes

Nyx x f!Reader

Summary: Determined to claw your way out of your home camp, you decide it’s time to learn to wield the Illyrian bow, and your best friend won't let you learn alone. 

Word Count: 6501

Warnings: canon typical themes, sexism, violence, injury 

A/N: this is pretty much all inspired by one line from acofs that I think about too much.

“I’m jealous of you sometimes,” she admitted to Nyx. They were gathered on the outskirts of the village where he’d been sent to train. She kicked her feet out in front of her. The bark of the log she sat on cut through her thin summer pants, pressing into her skin. Instead of being painful or itching, it felt comforting and reminded her she’s still alive. 

“Why?” He cut a glance to her from where he was sharpening one of his knives. 

“You get to leave.” The absolute truth. She was stuck in this damn village likely for the rest of her life, unless she somehow managed to escape or marry into another. “And I’m just -,” you waved a hand, hoping that would get the rest of your point across. It did. 

“You’re allowed to leave at any time.” He recited, but she could tell he didn’t really believe it. There’s no official laws forbidding her from leaving. In fact, there’s one against it - written on paper by his father, but actually writing a law and enacting it are two very different things. At least she can’t be officially punished for trying to leave.  

“You know it’s not that easy.” Her last attempt hadn’t worked. Despite her friendship with Nyx, probably in spite of it, they dragged her ass back here. No matter how fast she flew, they were faster. They caught her, dragged her back and told her if she tried again they’d break her wings and make it look like an accident. One day, when she was fast and strong enough she’d get the hell out of here. But until then …

“I thought you liked it here.” Gods, she loved it. Illyria was beautiful despite its cruelty and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, but it became suffocating and all consuming especially as she grew older. Besides, it was all that she’d known, there was nowhere for her to compare it to. Unfortunately, with each year, the expectations to marry became stronger. Even though they let her train, they ridiculed her at every turn. Her father said it would make it almost impossible to marry her off, and frequently encouraged her to quit. Little did he know, saying it would make her undesirable for marriage was prime fuel for her to keep going. She refused to quit and accept her natural place, to let her ‘natural place’ be below, subservient, predestined. She’d seen and even spoken to Emerie, she knew who she could become if she truly pushed herself. Long ago she’d decided she’d work and work until she was never weak again. 

“I’m thinking about taking up the bow.” She switched topics quickly. If she tells him, and they find out … she knows they’ll make good on their promise. 

-

Rhys overheard a single sentence of conversation between his son and his friend. He’d been curious about the friendship at first, and maybe a bit wary but she hadn’t done anything outrageous, in fact she’s one of the few females who continued to train despite all of the leers and ridicule she faced. 

“I’m thinking about taking up the bow.” 

Many males couldn’t muster up the strength to take up the bow. Still, the line triggered something in his memory, something he told himself over a decade ago, during a visit to Windhaven. ‘If one of the girls decided to take up the Illyrian bow, I’d oversee her lessons myself,’ and stepped out of the shadows as if compelled. 

“I’ll oversee your lessons myself,” he pressed his back against a branch and tucked his hands into his pockets. The female jumped, her eyes wide. Nyx glared at him, pissed off that he was eavesdropping, or probably more upset with himself that he didn’t catch him. He didn’t particularly care too much, and his mouth quirked up at the corners. “Nyx can accompany you for lessons once a week, in Velaris.” 

The words came naturally, and he wondered if this was a plan written out by the mother decades or centuries before the two in front of them were born. Perhaps, and as much as his son’s potential love life intrigued him he had more urgent court business to attend to. Anyway, Nyx definitely wouldn’t appreciate his hovering or interfering, so he did his best to take a step back. His best wasn’t great, but it was something. 

“T-thank you, High Lord” she stumbled out and he frowned at the honorific, holding up a hand. 

“Just Rhys,” he gently corrected. She didn’t look completely convinced, but Nyx elbowed her, his eyes glazing over, saying something directly to her. He didn’t pry. Besides, his son had taught her how to keep iron shields locked up around her mind. It’s possible there was something else going on there. Not that Nyx would tell him … maybe he could convince Cassian to get it out of him, he’d always been more willing to speak to him about those kinds of things. He’d said he was ‘not great,’ after all. Rhys shoved the thought to the back of his mind for now, making a mental note to address it later. “Are you going to learn with her?” He asked Nyx. A taunt and a challenge. He’d wondered why it took Nyx so long to ‘agree’ - like he hadn’t just volunteered him - to learn the bow, but perhaps it was a who. 

“Of course.” Nyx glared at him. He could’ve sworn a blush covered his cheeks when he glanced back at her. He’d definitely be asking Cassian. 

-

She bit on her bottom lip, watching Nyx glare at his father. Learning the bow and a chance to leave Windhaven once a week sounded like heaven. Maybe it’s good fortune his father happened to overhear the conversation, even if it’s embarrassing. 

‘Not embarrassing’ she chided herself. There’s nothing embarrassing about wanting to train, wanting to learn to fight. Besides, if she learns to wield the bow - something several Illyrian males never learn to do, maybe that would finally prove her skill and worthiness.

Eyes a bit dreamy, she hid in the shadows, letting the cool embrace her as she watched a male return the Illyrian bow to its hold. Silver, well made, and nearly as tall as her. Heavy, too, based on what she remembered from the time she tried to steal one. That was a mistake. All she’d achieved was getting it stuck in the mud. To cover her scent, she’d spread more mud over it, and just caused rampant confusion in the morning. The males actually training with the bows had hell to pay for her mistake, but they’d always jeered at her for wanting to train so she didn’t find she cared too much. 

-

“Why haven’t you invited her to train with the Valkyries?” Nesta asked Nyx later that week, after his Father  - embarrassingly - announced he’d been learning to wield the bow, with a ‘female friend’ of his, causing a few intrigued looks. 

“It’s not like that,” he’d insisted, aware you'd have his head if you found out he gave any other kind of impression. Still, relaxed as he was around his family he maintained the perfect control taught to him from a young age. 

His uncle Cassian’s eyes lit up in mischief, but he caught Amren, who hated being called Aunt for some reason, sending a glare his way - backed up by Mor. At least the females were on his side. 

“I never thought of it.” His mother raised one eyebrow at him, calling out his bullshit, but didn’t comment. He’d thought of it, but he’s not certain she would want to train away from the village. That part was also bullshit, she’d do anything to get away from there, but if she was training with the Valkyries he’d never see her. Never see his closest friend. Just a friend. Cassian had grilled him about her, fishing for answers - if he liked her in that way. Even though he did, he wouldn’t act on it. She had enough males panting after her and didn’t want her to feel pressured in any way. If her family caught wind of his or her interest they’d either push her to pursue it to the ends of the world or do their best to drive her away from him. The last thing she needed was more pressure on her. 

Their conversation from the other day still lingered in his mind. ‘You know it’s not that easy.’ Had she tried to leave? If so, why wouldn’t she tell him about it? She knows he would help her. 

-

The string dug painfully into her cheek as she pulled it back, her wrist quivering slightly. She shouldn’t be glad Nyx was struggling next to her, but it reassured her. 

“Good.” She heard his father behind them, and they both lowered it. The lesson consisted of how to hold it, and practicing pulling the string back, time and time again. They’d done it for hours, but she wouldn’t complain. Not one word of complaint would leave her lips. She caught a glimpse of Velaris as they landed on a balcony. Nyx had called it the House of Wind. One level below, at a different training courtyard, females were practicing with swords, sparring with each other. Priestesses, most of them, with the blue robes but some others wearing Illyrian leathers. The Valkyries. She caught a glimpse of Emerie. She wondered if the female knew how idolized she was by a select few females. 

She’d heard of them in passing, mostly with sneers and snarky remarks but she thought it was admirable. A female from her village, Emerie, had helped found them, and was one of the original three Valkyries, a year or two before she was born. She wondered if she had to be a priestess to become a Valkyrie. Holy vows might be a bit beyond her. She refocused on the lesson, thankfully and sadly at an end. Nyx winnowed her back to Windhaven but had to leave quickly for some high-lord-in-training duties, and promised he’d be back the next day. 

Nyx had become the only reason she was staying sane over the last few years, and she thanked the Mother every day for that friendship, and that he’d never pushed or shown any interest beyond that. Of course, there was a tiny bit of attraction on her side but she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their friendship. Not a damn thing, and made sure her friends and family knew it was completely platonic. 

-

They were sitting in their usual spot, tucked out of sight from the village but not too far into the mountains, when he asked her a question she’d been dreading. “Have you tried to leave before?” 

She couldn’t lie to him, he always knew when. “Once,” she admitted and pointedly ignored the gaze branding into her side. 

“And you came back?” 

Not willingly, but she did. “Obviously,” her heart beat faster, her palms sweating slightly, and she prayed he wouldn’t ask if she did willingly. She didn’t want to lie to him, and didn’t want to answer. 

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively soft and mild, but she looked at him and saw anger dancing in his eyes. He’d read right through her. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, fixing her gaze firmly on the sunset lowering over the mountains, the sun perfectly aligned between two peaks. 

“It does.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him reach out towards her, but seemed to think better of it and withdrew his hand. She wished he wouldn’t have and cursed herself for wishing that. “I’ll find out.” He added when she didn’t reply. 

That caught her attention, and she snapped her head to him. “Don’t go digging into it.” Her voice was desperate, her nails digging into her thighs. “Please.” 

Nyx swallowed harshly, and frowned at her. “If someone hurt you, I want to know.” 

“It’ll make things worse.” 

His mouth parted slightly, ready to protest, but closed again. The way he looked at her made her feel like he had access to her innermost thoughts, could read right through her and see every little thing she was thinking. But - he wasn’t in her mind, he’d taught her to protect it and she would know if he was. The pause before his reply was only seconds, but it seemed to stretch on for eternity. 

“Alright.” A muscle in his jaw flecked. Her eyes darted to where his fists clenched. He wasn’t happy about it, but he could deal with it. She didn’t need a male savior anyway, she just needed her best friend. 

-

She hadn’t denied that someone hurt her, and he promised he wouldn’t go digging into it. But - he didn’t say anything about others. There’s several people he could ask to look into what happened after she tried to leave, but that felt like a betrayal of her trust. Still, a protective instinct in him flared, wanting to eliminate any threat to his … his friend. Nyx felt lost. He’d always known what to do next, where to find a solution, or how to help but she said it would ‘make things worse.’ If he told his parents, Cassian, or Azriel they’d probably go combing through the village to figure out what happened and she would suffer the consequences from that, whatever they might be. There’s one person he could ask … someone who had been in a similar situation. 

“Can you keep it from my parents and everyone else?�� He asked cautiously. Mor raised a brow, but nodded. 

“Is it about your … friend?” Her red-stained lips curved into a smirk. Everyone knows about her, by now. The entire lot of them are complete busy bodies. 

“Yes.” He sighed, and her eyes lit up, “but not what you’re thinking.” 

She motioned for him to continue, and everything he knew about the situation - not much at all - spilled out. He saw anger flare in her eyes once, but for the most part she remained calm, listening carefully to each word. “What do I do?” He finally asked. 

Mor paused for a few moments, tilting her head. “Follow her wishes.” Gods that’s the last thing he wanted to hear. Apparently she could tell because she snorted. “Offer to help her, when she’s ready. Make sure she knows you will.” 

He could do that, he could wait until she’s ready to leave. The Mother only knew he’d wait a ridiculous amount of time for her, do ridiculous things to ensure her safety and happiness, just like she’d do the same for him. 

-

The lessons, in Velaris, started becoming her favorite part of each week. Every Friday, around dawn, she’d wait anxiously at the edge of camp for Nyx to come. Velaris was too far to fly in a day, reasonably, so she had to rely on him to make it on time. The one and only time he’d been late, they both paid the price for it and as soon as they got back to Windhaven, she berated him and told him if he did it again she’d cut his favorite part off. That seemed to get through to him because he was never late again. 

In the spare time she could find, she would practice. They couldn’t refuse her using one of the many bows set aside for training, not since they were trying to stay on the High Lord’s good side. In all honesty, both her and Nyx were absolutely terrible in the beginning, but slowly improved over the weeks. Painfully slowly. His father had reassured them it took years for him to master it. A few times, other members of the inner circle had appeared and mostly grilled her with questions as Nyx glowered at them. How her training is going in Illyria, her family, what she thinks of Windhaven, her favorite food, they were endless. She answered all of them very carefully, dodging around anything negative that could get back to them.  

She desperately wanted to see the rest of Velaris, and when she thought nobody was looking she’d take the time to peer out over the city. A river cut through it, and the entire place seemed vibrant with life - even though she couldn’t see any details very well. She never went beyond the House of Wind. Maybe when she finally left she could come live in Velaris. There had been brief whispers of the city, but several still believed it to be a myth. Residency there was by application or invitation only, and she didn’t know of a single Illyrian living permanently in the city. Perhaps she could be the first. 

She heard footsteps approaching her - heavy for Fae, and recognized the scent. Her father. Her entire body tensed as he appeared, stopping a few feet in front of her and looking at her with distaste. She’s used to that by now, the looks didn’t bother her, but the fact that he’s here now does. She hadn’t told him exactly where she goes, and he hadn’t bothered to ask. Still, he probably heard through rumors what she’s been doing. 

“What do you want,” She bit back a sigh, trying not to sound too disrespectful, adding “sir?” to the end for good measure. 

“You need to stop.” 

“Stop what?” Her voice grew sharper, attention now caught. 

“Going wherever you do, practicing with a bow.” 

She forced her breathing to stay steady, and tamped down some of the rage. “You can’t make me.” She didn’t bother asking why, the answer would be as useless as it was obvious. Female. 

“Accidents happen.” 

“Accidents are noticed.” She said through gritted teeth. 

“You can’t practice with a broken wing.” 

Her eyes shuddered closed. He would really do it, and she knew that. What could she do to stop him if he actually put his mind to it? Running away hadn’t worked, but this is one thing she finally had for herself, and was very reluctant to give it up. 

“It’s not my fault you were never good enough to master the Illyrian bow,” that was not what she intended to leave her mouth, especially not at full attitude. Not at all. Fuck.

His nostrils flared, eyes widened, and a crack as the back of his hand slammed across her face, her lip catching on her canine, tearing. She showed no reaction. She knew better. More blows rained, her wing twisted, she bit her lip to hide a scream. 

Maybe she was already stronger than him, but she wouldn’t know that strength as the child inside of her rose to the front, the old habits of learning to be small, to make herself palatable, to minimize the damage, reared.

By the time she broke free of the child-like mold paralyzing her, it was too late to fight back, she’d already been tossed out into the snow, door slamming behind her. 

It was Friday. She would be late. He chose his dates well. Her body was in horrible shape, she knew that, but the fear of disappointing her instructors kept her going. One foot in front of the other, wings lopsided with her left one barely hovering above the ground, body swaying back and forth with each step, vision blurring in and out of focus. 

Specks of blood sprinkled her footsteps, leaking down to decorate her clothing as well. Maybe they’d be late too, and she’d have time to make herself palatable. 

“She’s never late -” She heard Nyx - he was speaking loudly. 

“Oh you’ll have fun today,” Mor was picking them up this time. 

She knew when Nyx sensed her presence, felt the shift in the world as she passed between the two trees into the clearing, her companions a few hundred feet away. 

The sight of Nyx, of her best friend, made her feel like she could be whole again. 

“Sssorry,” the word slurred over her puffy lip, “I’m late.” 

They winnowed to her side and caught her just before she collapsed. 

-

“See what they did to her,” Nyx screamed to the room, Cassian’s arms still wrapped around his chest. 

His father’s rough hands brushed against his cheeks. 

“I see,” his voice was deadly and calm. Nyx didn’t care for calm right now. Not with her in the next room, looking so broken. He was ready to fly into a rage beyond anything reason could fathom. 

Catching the curt nod from his father, the panicked look in his eyes, Cassian’s arms released him and his father barely stepped in in time to grab him before he winnowed himself. 

A distant mountain range. Far from where he could hurt a soul. 

That was the problem, he needed to cause pain. Someone needed to pay. 

“If you kill them now, what will it solve?” His father asked. 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. 

“Who’s revenge is it?” His fathers voice had dropped, but the intensity grew. “Would you take that from her?” Nobody knew her like Nyx did. Death, pain in equal or greater suffering, not just for herself but to save the next female. “For each male like that to die, another takes his place.” 

Why was he still. Fucking. Speaking. 

“And you haven’t managed to solve that,” Nyx said flatly, knowing the words would hit - would find their mark. He sensed the wince. He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilt now, that was for later. “What would you do if it was my mother lying in the other room?” Was he giving away too much? He’d kept the secret for so long it didn’t matter to him now. It seemed stupid, in hindsight, waiting for you to realize. “What would you do if it was your mate bleeding and broken?” 

“Hope someone would keep me from doing something she’d be pissed at,” he responded, a touch of shock to his voice. For some reason, that pissed Nyx off more than before. 

“Yes, I have a mate,” he enunciated each word so clearly it felt like he was spitting them. “And this place,” he waved a hand at the mountain ranges beyond in the vague direction of her home, “is killing her, day by day and i’m fucking helpless.” His knees hit the icy earth, pushing through the snow. The ground rumbled beneath him. “I can’t help my mate,” he whispered. A mountain top cracked somewhere in the distance. Birds flew. Wind howled. 

He repeated the words, screamed them with none but his father and the blossoming warmth in his chest as a witness. 

-

“By the mother, wake up,” Nyx half pleaded, half ordered. 

“I’m awake,” she countered. Again. How many different versions of this one conversation did they need to have? 

“I want my best friend back.” Yes, you’d been a little moody but its not like you disappeared to the ether lands. You were just … contemplative. There was a lot to think about. 

“She’s right fucking here,” she tried to add a bit of a sing-song lilt to her voice, but instead it cracked. Like a young male’s would. 

Pursing her lips together, she finally glanced at him, the laugh threatening to burst out of her chest. 

The amusement and tip of an insult in his eyes brought it out. 

Several minutes later, and slow breaths later, she’d calmed and her ribs slowed from a sharp pain to a dull ache. She didn’t dare express any kind of pain or discomfort to her mother hen, gods only know he’s enough of one now. 

“I should go back soon,” she said, without a whole lot of intention. 

“You’re not going back,” Nyx hissed. Oh. He caught her attention, and not in a good way. The sheepish expression on his face meant he knew it too. “Sorry,” he murmured, “instincts.” 

Instincts? Nyx had never used that excuse with her before. Well, perhaps it was a reason rather than an excuse. If he was in this bed … she didn’t want to think of the rage and damage she’d induce on his behalf. Of how much destruction she’d leave in the wake of her pain. If anyone dared hurt Nyx. Well, there were others that might get to the culprits first but she wasn’t too proud to beg for scraps. 

A gentle poke to her shoulder drew her from her swirling thoughts. “Hm?” 

“Where’d you go?” Nyx played with a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her cheeks heated but he had the good grace to ignore that. There’s a lot they’d been ignoring recently.

Still, his question. There was no point in lying to Nyx, he’d always find out. “I was thinking of what I would do if I was in your place.” 

A too long pause before he replied, “and what would that be?” 

“I’d want to kill half of the world from spite,” she said with a grin, but meant each word. 

“Are you disappointed I didn’t?” He sounded oddly insecure. 

She snorted, “absolutely not. You know I can … can handle myself.” 

That last part felt like a lie. 

“I know you can,” he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, the movement so gentle yet connected. “I’m here to talk about it when you’re ready.” 

Not a command, not an order, just a pure statement of fact. She wished, in that moment and many others, that there was a chance of something for Nyx and her. It would make so much fucking sense, but it never quite worked out, and he’d shown zero sign wishing to pursue of feelings for her beyond friendly, even if they might exist.

It was enough to be his best friend, and she’d stick by that for the rest of her days if she had to. 

“You keep drifting off,” she heard the frown in his voice. 

“I am recovering,” she drawled. 

“And you keep trying to get out of bed.”

“Only because I shall go insane if I'm in this room much longer.” 

‘It’s been three days.” 

She missed the easy banter between the two of them. It meant everything to her to regain this small bit of normalcy. Nyx’s friendship meant everything to her, she refused to compromise it. It would take the cauldron itself, the Mother herself, and more to get her to so much as risk that. 

“I don’t understand how you’re so calm about this,” Nyx murmured, dragging his chair closer to her, winding their fingers together. He’d never done that before. Best friends, yes, but he’d never breached the barrier of physical intimacy, even platonic - the two of them always scared what it might be interpreted as. That could go unsaid. But now … she wasn’t in Illyria and perhaps he needed the reminder that she was warm and alive and breathing and here. 

“I’m not,” she squeezed his hand. “But I could give the females in theaters a run for their money,” a weak smile accompanied the statement. 

“Sure,” he laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the center of her forehead, his lips lingering for a second. Her entire body tensed. His eyes bugged, he released her hand just as the door swung open. 

Madja, right in perfect or horrible timing. 

-

“You’ve never been to the theater,” Nyx said blandly, remembering her earlier comment.

She looked down at her hands, small scars general from life in Illyria flickering them. “I’ve read about them,” her voice was quiet, and he felt like an asshole. 

Read about them.  Nyx had taught her how to read, so many years ago, because she hadn’t read his favorite book and he desperately wanted to be her friend but in his mind it was impossible for the two of them to be friends if she hadn’t read it, hence reading lessons. She’d threatened him enough to earn a prison sentence during it, but obviously both the teaching and friendship worked. Beautifully, in his opinion. 

“I’ll take you,” he said a tad late, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“In Velaris?” Her eyes lit up, shoulders pushed back but chest forward, leaning towards him. 

“In Velaris,” he promised, and got the sense that … It was crucial, somehow, that he showed her his city. He hadn’t gotten the chance yet, after all. 

She looked ready to jump up and cheer, so much so that he stepped closer, ready to help support her if needed. 

“I’ve always wanted -” her mouth snapped shut. He looked back at the door. Nobody. 

“Always wanted what?” Nyx pushed. 

A few moments pause. “To see the city,” she finally said quietly. 

He felt like an ass for not taking her to see it sooner. 

“Then you better rest up,” he winked at her. “I’ll be your guide.” 

With that, he had to leave. It was the most beautiful misery to be around you without you aware of the bond. For all of his bravado on the mountain, he still hadn’t the courage to tell you. One of these days, he’d find it. Nyx just hoped it wasn’t too late when he did. 

-

She frowned at his back. Leaving after a promise like that. Well, she supposed to him it might not be quite as world changing and ground shaking, but to her it seemed like everything in that moment, and maybe even something that ought to be celebrated. Or, the injuries still rattled her brain and she wasn’t thinking clearly. 

Nyx was good for his promises. That was a fact. He’d never broken a single one to her, and she’d never broken a single one to him. Hopefully, it stayed that way. 

Three thuds on the door, citrus and cinnamon flickering through the door - a scent she vaguely recognized. 

“May I come in?” A muffled voice sounded. It was a ridiculously thick oak wood door from what she could tell. She called her agreement, and the Morrigan - Mor - she mentally corrected herself, strode through the door, beaming. 

She was gorgeous, warm brown eyes and blonde hair, ruby red lips, and an effortless grace and confidence she wished she could channel sometimes. 

‘A free female,’ she thought. ‘That’s what a free female looks like.’ 

“How are you doing?” Mor asked, and she could hear the sincerity in her tone.

“The injuries aren’t healing as quickly as I’d like,” she admitted. “And I’m sick of this bed.” 

“I’m afraid if Madja orders bedrest, you’re quite stuck,” Mor shot her a sympathetic grin, like she’d been in that place before. Probably had. “As glad as I am to hear you’re healing, we have more unpleasant things to talk about,” her voice dropped just a tad, a sternness entering that made her back subconsciously straighten, “like what’s going to happen next.” 

She’d mentally prepped herself for this. The return to Illyria. She nodded, more to herself. 

A warm hand covered her own, squeezing lightly. 

“We won’t make you return there, not if you don’t want to.” 

Her heart dropped to her stomach, mouth parting, eyes widened, heart racing. 

The corner of Mor’s lips curled into a tentative smile, “we haven’t told Nyx about offering you a place here, although I suspect he would want to do it on his own. It’s important to - to me - that you get to make this choice of your own accord, with minimal influences.” 

In other words, she wanted her to have a true choice, for once. 

“I’m not ready to go back,” she admitted. “Does that make me -” 

“No,” Mor squeezed her hand again, refusing to let the words be spoken into the world. “If anything, it makes you brave to start over somewhere new.” 

At this very moment, she didn’t feel brave, but she supposed that could come with time. 

“We’ll make preparations to get you settled,” Mor started speaking and she did her best to pay attention, really did, but the healing tonic had a sedative effect and a yawn slipped. She laughed softly, “I’ll come back another time.” Mor stood, brushing down her pants. “For what it's worth,” she started slowly, as if uncertain. “I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay for now.”

“So am I,” she grinned. It took until she was drifting off to sleep for her to realize it had been implied she was staying in Velaris, that they’d assumed she would want to make this city her home. Maybe to another it would’ve been an insult, but it warmed her heart that they wanted her here. She felt quite special. 

-

Time passed, and she healed, in more ways than one. 

With some encouragement from Lady - no, just Nesta, she saw one of the priestesses from the library. That, she believed, really made the difference to her. Someone to listen without judgment, trying to fix things, or push themselves into her situation. She loved Nyx, as a friend of course, truly did, but he always tried to fix things for her and there were some things that were better left broken for a while. Not everything could be fixed, and she learned to accept her peace with that. She’d never have a relationship with her father, for one. Not that she was missing out on much. In her eyes, he’d grown irredeemable. Maybe that was the hardest lesson she’d learned. 

Lifting her pen from the paper, sticking it back into the ink pot, she blew lightly to dry the ink. Transcribing for the priestesses was slow, but she’d insisted she have some kind of work, and turns out she had a knack for deciphering nearly illegible handwriting. 

“How do you read that?” Nyx asked. She was thankful she’d already put the pen away, otherwise there might have been ink thrown all of her hard work. 

“I’m used to reading your notes,” she retorted. 

It was another book, you bit back your squeal of delight. You’d nearly begged him to bring another after you’d finished the first. It was slow progress, considering you were technically still learning how to read, but he’d chosen books that just worked. 

Each one had a series of notes, tucked in between pages at parts Nyx thought were particularly important, and thought it was highly important you hear his opinion on those parts. 

He snorted. “My handwriting is elegant.” 

“Glorified chicken scrawl.” 

He made a sound of mock offense, she bit down on her lip to hide a laugh, ducking her head. The sound of his laughter pealing through the air brought hers out. 

“Are you ready?” He asked when they’d both calmed somewhat. 

“I’m not finished.” It was a half-truth. She could be finished, but she didn’t want to be. 

“You’re working too much,” he complained. 

“I’m earning my keep.” 

“You’ve done enough for the day,” Nyx insisted, sliding the book further away from her. 

She sighed and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He looked so earnest, and she hadn’t actually seen that much of him recently. Just his presence made something warm bloom in her chest, like always. Nyx had always been her warmth. A warmth he showed to a select few, but receiving it felt like the most precious gift and she found herself with an inexplicable chill of sorts without him nearby, like an itch she could never scratch. A subconscious smile crept onto her face, and she started packing her things. Only because it’s him, she told herself. She was lucky to have him as her best friend, she wouldn’t trade the friendship for anything. 

-

Three days later, the theater was back in season and she was aching to go. Mor - mother above it was still a little strange to call her that - took her once last season and she absolutely adored it. The costumes, the actresses and actors, the talent, the music, even the way they painted their faces for the crowds. Every bit of it made her heart feel full in a way she hadn’t realized was possible. 

But tonight, the first night of the season, when the stage should have her full attention she was stuck on the male next to her. Beautiful in his well fitting dark suit, stitched with gold and violet accents that brought out the varying shades in his eyes. 

Beautiful. She’d just called her best friend beautiful. Well, she supposed it was the truth. Nyx was one of the most beautiful, she was getting sick of that word, Fae she’d encountered. It didn’t mean she liked him or was attracted to him like that. Friendship. Friendship was good, safe, and she liked safe. Losing him would wreck her and she absolutely couldn’t afford to put her new life in jeopardy, even if her heart craved him, even if lying to herself was destroying her a little each day. 

“This is ridiculous,” Nyx sighed, leaning back in the seat. The two of them had managed to get a box to yourselves for the night. Well, Nyx managed it. His elbow brushed against hers. 

“I thought the play was done quite well,” she murmured. They were approaching the closing scenes now, she could tell at this point. 

“Not that,” he reached over and covered her hand with his own. 

“Wh-,” she started. 

“Watch the play,” he cut her off with a mischievous smile. Grinding her teeth together, she listened for once. 

Watching the play was bullshit. He knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on it, not with how right his skin felt on hers and how his thumb gently brushed back and forth across her knuckles. 

They both stayed until the theater cleared out, Nyx’s shield keeping the workers from coming into their box. 

“Did you ever get your revenge?” 

She knew what he was talking about. “Not the way you expect,” she flipped her palm so she could squeeze his hand. “Revenge doesn’t always have to be ice cold or bloody, sometimes it can mean living your best life and thriving without them.” Nyx paused, like this might be a foreign concept to him. It probably was. “But I’ll get the kind of revenge you’re thinking of when I'm ready. Although, I think hearing whispers of me living here, of my existence being possible outside of their bubble may hurt more.” 

Nyx frowned, “I don’t know about that one.”

She was suddenly aware of just how long they’d been holding hands, and moved to withdraw hers. He clutched on tighter, as if her touch was the only thing grounding her to this world. She stilled. Whatever was happening, it was the beginning of something else, and that terrified and excited her in ways her brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. In ways only he could. 

“Can I get a pass to do something potentially stupid?” Nyx asked. 

“Depends what it is,” she replied automatically. 

“I can’t tell you,” did he sound a touch pained or was she hallucinating? 

“Fine,” she said with mock annoyance, mainly because she was curious and maybe a little hopeful. 

But Nyx wouldn’t - 

A palm brushed against her cheek, and he did.

-

acotar taglist: @yeonalie

[pollymorgan]

Ex-husband Negan Part 1

Warnings: Negan is a total asshole, but hot!

When I first saw Negan, almost exactly 29 years ago, I had no idea what important role he would play in my life. I was just a naive girl, instantly infatuated with this rebellious, outspoken, handsome motorcyclist who didn't follow any rules and did his own thing. Just a few days after that first meeting, he became my first serious boyfriend.

Love is blind, they say, and that certainly applied to me. I put up with all his mistakes, lies, and escapades for three whole years until I finally had enough and ended things. The pain and disappointment overshadowed my life for a long time. But if you think you learn from your mistakes, then you don't know me. When I was in my late twenties, this guy had drawn me back in and even convinced me to marry him.

Had he changed? Not at all! Despite his constant assurances. But maybe he simply can't help it. Negan remains Negan. In the cursed seventh year, I couldn't take it anymore and filed for divorce. Not because I didn't love him anymore, in fact quite the opposite, but the disappointments were just too much to bear.

Despite everything, he had given me the most precious and wonderful gift in my - our life. Our two babies. Gracie and Lizzie. And that fact alone will probably never truly separate us.

The two of them are no longer little, though, but 11 and 17 years old. And my ex-husband is the best father i could imagine. It seems like he wants to make up for all the mistakes he made with me through them.

They love their father more than anything, and that alone makes me incredibly happy. That's why I can't hate him, even though I have pretty good reasons to.

Just now, the three of them spent the last weeks of summer vacation in a cabin in the mountains. The fact that my media-crazed girls wanted to spend their free time fishing, swimming, and hiking, all without cell phone reception, fascinated me immensely. They probably would have thought I was crazy if I had made that suggestion to them.

It was strange not having my daughters in the house, but I also enjoyed the peace a little. It had been quiet around me for a long time.

My new partner, an architect from the office where I work, and I had been arguing more and more in recent months. Last week, it even escalated to the point where he moved into a hotel. Fortunately, Gracie and Lizzie weren't home.

I wanted this relationship to work so badly, but apparently it was doomed to fail. Steve is the complete opposite of Negan - calm, down-to-earth, perhaps even a bit boring, but I thought that after everything I had been through, that's exactly what I needed.

Ironically, what I constantly accuse Negan of, that he can never maintain a long-term relationship, unfortunately seems to apply to me as well.

But today, I tried to push my worries aside because my daughters were returning from their vacation, and I was looking forward to being able to hold them in my arms again after two weeks.

I was just about to put their favorite casserole in the oven when my phone rang.

"Gracie, my darling!" I almost shouted into the receiver.

"Hello Mom, we're on our way back now!" she replied.

"When will you be here? ... Dinner won't be ready for another hour.."

"Dad, how much longer do we have to drive?" I heard her ask.

When I heard Negan's response faintly in the background, my expression hardened and I looked at the clock in shock.

"Another 5 hours???" I asked incredulously.

It was almost 6 PM and school started tomorrow. Negan had promised me that they would be back in time for dinner.

"Sweetheart, can you please give me your father on the phone..." I spoke as calmly as I could into the receiver, and Gracie immediately handed the phone over.

"Hello, my beautiful..." he said with his unmistakable, deep voice that still gave me goosebumps after all these years.

At his words, I couldn't help but smile, even though I wasn't really in the mood for it.

"Negan, damn it, you promised to be back for dinner, the kids have to go back to school early tomorrow morning.." I said seriously.

I heard an irritated grunt from him, then he replied, "I didn't know that you bourgeois have dinner promptly at 6, but now seriously... our girls wanted to see a waterfall, and you know I can't deny them any wishes. I'll bring them home safely, I promise."

"I know..." I whispered into the receiver and then emphasized louder, "...but that's not the point!"

After the call, I turned off the oven in exasperation and sat down in front of the TV with a glass of red wine, trying to distract myself with some silly soap opera to prevent my anger from escalating even further, but it wasn't really working.

"It's okay, nothing happened, they're just coming home a bit later," I tried to reassure myself, cursing Negan inwardly. He broke every promise he made to me with such ease.

The hands of the clock seemed to stand still, or at least that's how it felt to me. Time passed agonizingly slowly. I started preparing everything for Lizzie's school day tomorrow. She would be so tired in the morning, and I already felt sorry for her.

By 10 PM, I was standing by the window, staring out into the dark night, while the table was set and dinner was ready. After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up with my family.

My two girls jumped out of the car beaming with joy, and that dashed any hope I had that they might have slept a little during the drive.

I immediately opened the front door, and Lizzie ran into my arms.

"Mama, I caught the biggest fish of all..." she shouted from a distance.

"That's amazing, did you have a lot of fun?" I asked her, holding her tightly in my arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.

"It was the coolest vacation ever!!!" she said convincingly and then rushed into the house. My eldest approached me more slowly, but she too had a big grin on her face. Gracie had inherited her father's smile and knew exactly how to get away with everything with me. She had to use it quite often, considering she also inherited Negan's temper. I pulled her into my arms as well and was once again taken aback by how grown she had become. There wasn't much left of my little girl; she already seemed so mature.

"It was really cool, Mom," she said coolly.

Then my gaze fell on Negan. Damn, after all these years, just seeing him made my heart beat faster. With my arms crossed, I tried to glare at him as menacingly as possible, but he just smiled and planted a way too long kiss on my cheek.

The smell of his aftershave and the feeling of his lips on my skin took my breath away for a few seconds. I quickly composed myself and swallowed hard.

As he tried to enter the house as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I stood provocatively in his way.

"Thanks, Negan! Have a good night, get home safely..." I said.

Lizzie came running back immediately. You could hear her running on the parquet floor from a distance.

"Can't Dad eat with us?" she asked, completely excited.

"It's already late, my dear..." I replied firmly, ruffling her hair, but not breaking eye contact with Negan.

"Is Stevieboy projecting his jealousy again, or why can't I even take a damn step into my family's house?" he asked, slightly amused.

Shocked, I looked at him. I was used to his remarks, but claiming something like that in front of our youngest daughter shocked even me.

"My husband isn't here... he's on a business trip!" I lied.

"Husband? If anything, he's more like your friend, or rather your companion for this phase of life..." Negan corrected me provocatively, underlining his statement with another grin.

Gracie returned to the door as well. "Dad drove forever, can't we eat together at least? We can show you some really cool pictures. Dad bought us a really awesome DSLR camera..."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from commenting on his unnecessary expenses. How many times had we argued about his inability to handle money in the past? But unlike him, I didn't want to say such things in front of our children. So, I reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for him to come into the house.

During dinner, everyone was talking at once, sharing the wildest stories from their trip. Both my daughters definitely inherited their tendency to exaggerate their stories from their father. But just like him, they always made me laugh with their tales. So, I even shed a few tears of joy as they recounted every detail to me. I felt Negan watching me the whole time, when he wasn't putting on his black-rimmed glasses to find the right picture to match the current anecdote on his camera.

Mid-conversation, Gracie suddenly jumped up as her phone vibrated, "It's David finally...." She ran out of the room with a big smile on her face.

"We won't be seeing her tonight..." I stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of my eye that I had shed while laughing.

"Oh, David... that guy doesn't sit well with me at all..." Negan observed seriously, looking at me somewhat perplexed.

"May I remind you that our daughter hasn't been a little girl for a long time... she's 17!" I chuckled at the fact that it seemed to genuinely bother him.

"David is her boyfriend..." Lizzie chimed into the conversation.

"Sweets, promise me that at least you won't bring a boyfriend home, okay?" Negan addressed our youngest.

"That's nonsense, your mom was 16 when she met your dad... even a year younger than your sister now..." I explained to her.

"That's exactly why this whole thing worries me so much..." Negan cut me off, and as I looked at him, I couldn't help but think back to the night I lost my innocence to this guy. Everything was so perfect back then. I know not many women can say that about their first time. But even though we were both so young, Negan was so tender and considerate with me, yet so confident that he dispelled all my insecurities. And that night was just the beginning of many more, even better... Lost in thought, I bit my lip until Lizzie's words snapped me out of my reverie.

"Can Daddy tuck me in, pleeease...?" she asked.

Smiling, I kissed her forehead. "Yes, of course..."

After everyone had gone upstairs, I started clearing the table, taking my time. I slowly washed the large casserole dish and then loaded the rest into the dishwasher.

"Is anyone checking out this perfect ass?!"

Negan's voice made me jump. I hadn't heard him approach, and as I turned to face him, he was pouring two glasses of red wine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I had to process the shock for a moment, then I made a dismissive gesture with my hands as he approached me.

"You should leave, it's late... way too late..." I said as convincingly as I could.

The tall man stopped right in front of me and wordlessly handed me one of the glasses. I knew the sparkle in his hazel eyes all too well, and it made my knees weak.

For a while, he just looked into my eyes, then he gently caressed my bare upper arm with his fingertips. Goosebumps formed where he touched me tenderly.

"You were thinking about our first time earlier, weren't you? I could see it in your beautiful eyes..." he whispered softly, while his gaze roamed unabashedly over my body.

I swallowed hard and then looked at him feigning surprise. "No, I don't know what you're talking about..." Why could he still read me like an open book after all this time?

Instead of protesting, he smiled knowingly.

I needed to get away! Away from this situation that always led to the same thing. Determined, I took a big sip of wine and went straight to the small table in the other corner of the kitchen. I needed to create as much space between us as possible to be able to think a bit clearer.

I had left my cigarettes there earlier when I smoked one on the terrace while waiting. Now I took one out of the pack and lit it, leaning against one of the stools.

Steve had strictly forbidden smoking in the house, he didn't like it at all when I did, so I usually smoked secretly behind the shed in the garden. But right now, I didn't care. Steve wasn't here, only Negan, trying to ensnare me in his web once again, as he had done hundreds of times before.

"What's all this about, Negan? Do you need that reassurance to be able to get me into bed?" I asked directly.

Surprised, he looked at me, "Who's talking about me trying to get you into bed? You have quite the wild imagination, that's what I've always loved about you. ... That you were thinking about back then earlier was just an observation, my dear..."

Once again, he came directly towards me. I felt like prey caught in a trap. When he stood in front of me, I automatically spread my legs slightly so he could squeeze between them. I looked up at him, and without breaking eye contact, he took the cigarette from my hand, took a deep drag, and then tossed the rest into the last gulp of his red wine, causing a brief sizzling sound. Only a moment later did he exhale the smoke.

"Damn, you just keep getting more beautiful," he whispered, taking my chin between his fingers.

As often before, I just let it happen. Then he gently stroked my lips with his thumbs, and I tasted his slightly rough skin. It sent little jolts directly to my core, making me nervously shift back and forth on my stool.

"Do you often think about how it feels when I touch you, my sweet? What it's like when my lips explore this perfect body..." he asked in a deep voice, and I could only nod slightly. But then I tried to gather myself again. Gently, but firmly, I pushed his hand away from me and then said, "But it won't happen again, Negan. I can't make the same mistake over and over again..."

[rhadamanthes]

Seashore and more. Sukuna x reader

word count : 2,7 k

warnings : side satoru x reader, voyeurism, pervert sukuna, kind of stalker sukuna, oral sex fem receiving, panty stealing, panty sniffing, body worship, obssesive behavior, breeding kink, lot of pet name, praise, biting, marking

Sukuna has been watching you all night he always does. You caught up on it of course you're a smart girl, but you don't mind, his attention on you feels so good. Drink in hand, from the corner of the room his ruby eyes never missed a single movement of yours. You went from dancing with the bartender to dancing on the table with your girlfriends. Seems like you're distracted and you have fun. The occasion is perfect for him, finishing his drink Sukuna slips away from the hotel's lounge. Using the elevator he stops on your floor. The first day you all arrived at this stupid rich kid summer camp he couldn't help but search for your room you're staying in. Number 308, there you are. The door is cracked open. Are you really that careless ? Even though you're staying in a luxurious hotel with a strong security system this is still dangerous. 

If it wasn't for his brother Yuuji that insisted for him to participate to this camp, he'd probably stayed cozily at home, people here are loud and obnoxious, it's the same group of friend then back home, but somehow, they're even more insufferable on the other side of the world. Yuuji killers' argument was, your presence. Of course,  how can Sukuna stay away from you for such a long time. Spying your social media daily won't do, he needed the real thing. So he finally obliged.

Letting his body through the crack he pushes the door as he found it before. Your room is spacious but there's clothes clustered all over the floor, the smell of your perfume still lingers in the air. A smirk crosses his lips, you're wearing his favorite tonight. Wasting no time he moves to the section that interests him : the closet. Ruffling through your underwear he can't believe how many panties you bring for 2 weeks. Sure if he takes one you won't notice right ? Pocketing a pair of purple laced panties, he froze hearing voices in the corridor. It's your voice, but you're not alone who the fuck are you bringing up here ? he doesn't have the time to ask himself more questions quickly hiding in the closet shutting the door. Thankfully they're made of wooden stripes so he can see what's going on. And he cannot believe his eyes.

Satoru Gojo, the imbecile impersonified is kissing you with all his might. Kneading your body, he walks towards the bed until you both fall on it. He wants to burst the door open and beat Satoru to a pulp but he can't. You'll freak out if you see him here in the first place. clenching his fist he hopes you'll let this madness end. Kissing your body down to your pussy. Satoru, take off your panties. It's lacy black with some rhinestones on the side. Sukuna jaw grince at the sight, this one is tainted with your scent. 

"Can I keep it?" Satoru asks, pouting. You snatch it from his hands hiding the underwear between your pillows.

"This cost a fortune and you have the real deal in front of you, get to work " you complain.

Sighing, Satoru dips his head between your thighs. From his spot Sukuna his boiling how can you let this man touch you so willingly. Through all this rage he admits that seeing you like this turns him on, your face is on the side directly facing him eyes closed as the prettiest moan escapes your dainty lips. All of sudden the room's door opens and Sukuna recognizes one of the girls you were dancing with earlier. Satoru jumps from his spot and you just stand on your elbow.

"They're playing please don't stop the music" she yells squealing in a drunken way.

You gasp, putting your dress back on your thigh, trotting excitedly out of the room. Satoru is sitting on his knees looking at your disappearing form as you ditched him for a 3 minute song. He gets up, looking around for a second and laughs when seeing the bed. Sukuna wants to scream right now, why is he getting the used pantie when he just had to satisfy himself with a stupidly clean one ?Before Satoru can reach the pillow your voice resonates in the room.

"Get out before I drag you by your hair" Satoru shoulders slumps in defeat, making his way out.

Sukuna laughs to himself finally getting out of the closet. He hurriedly makes his way to the bed where his trophy awaits him.  Taking the underwear in his hand he put it on his face smelling your scent and moaning in the process. How sweet, is this the price for watching the previous torture ? well he gladly took it going back to the lounge with more than he bargained for. 

✿      ۪⋆

The next morning your head pounds from all the alcohol you drank, the loud music and all the dancing.You're in the lobby waiting for the breakfast to be served but it takes so much time you snoop behind the bar, catching a few strawberries and a glass of apple juice. Making your way back to your bedroom you almost get knocked over. Clutching the glass so it doesn't splash everywhere, you raise your head to meet Sukuna's stare. A smile instantly forms on your lips.

"Fancy seeing you here~" you tease him. 

It's a surprise for you and everybody that he's here. He usually avoids gathering as best as he can, so for one that lasts two weeks it's very odd to see him here. You can't help but want to get on his nerves. 

"Already on champagne ?" he asks, ignoring your greeting.

"It's apple juice, I'm not that far gone" you scoff, biting into one of the strawberries you stole. An idea crosses your mind, with your half eaten fruit you reach for his mouth. Before it can even get remotely close to his face both your wrists are pinned against your belly. The glass of juice falls on the ground, spreading its liquid everywhere. You gasp at the mess.

"I was trying to be nice, no need to be in doberman mode."

"And i don't need to be fed" he states plainly, gripping your wrists harder. 

You dramatically hiss, not being really in pain just wanting to extrude a reaction for him, he only squints his eyes.

"Help me finish my breakfast at least" you say, wiggling your wrist still holding the strawberry. 

Lowering his gaze to your hand he brings it to your lips. you open your mouth slightly, never breaking eye contact. Biting more into the tender fruit you purposefully make a mess, juice running down his finger and you lick it off. His jaw clenches at the feeling of your pink muscle on his rough skin. He let go of your wrists turning back to leave. 

"Sukuna wait!" you call "We're having a boat day today, come with us ! It will be spacious enough for you to be alone but also to join if you want to socialize." you chuckle.  He gives you a hard stare over his shoulder but you can distinguish a slight nod.  "Can't wait to see your bathing suit!" you yell as he's already far down the hallway.

By the time everybody gets on the boat your headache has toned down a bit, the heat still makes you feel a bit dizzy but nothing you can't manage. The atmosphere is lighthearted. The group shared a meal together, Yuuji brought his speaker, and everybody's chatting. The yacht is sailing through the sea and stopping at various spots so you can enjoy the water. You took a dive but you're lezarding on the sunbed now. It's past noon, the sun shows no mercy and you slowly feel the migraine creeping back on. You decide to retreat from the sun and go cool down in the inner part of the boat.

"Don't be a party pooper" you hear Suguru's honeyed voice. Putting your sunglasses on top of your head, you look at him.

"Just going to lay down for a bit i'm burning" you chuckle rubbing his shoulder. He nods, kissing the top of your head. Everybody says goodbye to you and you go inside. The immediate temperature change makes you shiver, you blink your eyes a few times to get used to the change of light.  Once you can see clearly again, you go down the steps and notice that someone is already on the bed. A smile spreads on your features. Not anybody, it's Sukuna. His legs are dangling off the mattress, he's shirtless, wearing a dark purple trunk, one of his tattooed arms is covering his eyes. Making less noise possible you close the distance between the both of you, straddling him

"Tired of us already ?" you taunt laying your hands flat on his chest. 

Feeling your ass on his crotch Sukuna freezes, pushing your body off of him. He takes his time to look at you, you're wearing a white low cut bikini with cherry printed all over it. Shit, the fabric highlight your curves, you look fucking perfect right now. His jaw clenches and he resumes his previous position. You're frustrated with his lack of reaction, as much as you love to tease him, the fact that he never snaps drives you crazy. He always looks like he's about to bend but he never does. Is he a gentleman in disguise ? Taking matter in your own hands you plant kisses all over his jaw you try to go further down until his hand grabs the back of your neck freezing you in place. 

"What are you doing?" he grits through his teeth, losing patience. 

"Whatever I want. Don't you think I saw you stare at my tits you pervert" you say, caressing his clothed cock, laying your head in his stomach. 

"It's your stupid bikini" he says looking in your eyes

"Stupid ? I thought it was cute" you pout pushing on his chest to stand straight breaking his hold on you. "It doesn't matter, help me take it off" you add gathering your hair on one side to free your neck. 

His hand goes from your thigh to your lower back up to the knot tying the bathing suit in your neck. His skin is so warm against yours, you close your eyes in delight. Sukuna sits up not wanting to miss a single moment of what is about to unravel. Pulling on the string softly the upper part of the bikini falls and your tits bounce free. Sukuna have been dreaming about this moment for so long he can't believe it, your skin look soft, he can distinguish tan line adorning your boobs, fuck he wants to eat you whole. He grunt your name and you open your eyes, his face is so close to yours. Admiring his features, you place a soft kiss on his lips, a try, you want to see his reaction. His breath intensifies, you give him another this time before you can break free, he's holding the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You moan into his mouth finally, getting what you want. His free hand goes to your chest and kneads at your boobs, pinching your sensitive nipples. 

Eager to touch him too, you let your hand slide under his swimsuit , gripping the base of his cock, he's already half hard, you can feel the pent up frustration in the way he touches and kisses you. You start slow stroking motion and he moans into the kiss. You can already feel your pussy getting wet. Sukuna breaks the kiss and he looks hungrier than ever, his eyes are so dark, his lips shine from the heated kiss you shared. Lowering his gaze he looks at your small hand around his shaft and curses under his breath. Laying your body on the mattress he starts to full on biting at your flesh, no area is spared, your shoulder your neck, tits, tummy and thigh. 

"Mine" he grunts between each bite. 

You moan feeling more wanted than you ever have been. His teeth pull the string of the lower part of your bikini and you're naked in front of him. He takes a second to admire you, in your simplest attire. He groans and hides his face in your soft tummy, he nuzzles in it, kissing and licking at your skin. Going lower he wastes no time capturing your clit in his mouth sucking noisily on it, he moans like a starved man against it and the vibration makes you arch your back off the mattress.

"Sukuna, god" you pant, griping on his hair. His tongue is so precise against your sensitive bud you can already feel yourself getting close. "Stop please, I want to come on your cock" you beg closing your thigh around his face. Getting on his feet he looms over you nodding his head, you never saw him like that he looks high holding your face he rests his forehead against yours. 

"I'm going to make you feel good doll hm?" he coos, locking your legs around his waist.

You nod, impatient to feel his cock ruining your insides.Sukuna plants a sweet kiss on your lips and you can taste your own arousal. He fists himself a few times before entering your pussy in one go. Your eyes shut close at the stretch, you dig your nails in his arms. 

"God you're perfect, so tight for me my little dove." he purrs, ramming slowly into you. He makes you feel so safe and loved, you relax in no time.

"Fuck Sukuna you feel so good" you moan 

"I know my love" he pants kissing you, messily this time, his tongue exploring your mouth; licking at every part of it. You can tell he's been wanting this for a long time too. His thrust fills you with pleasure as he reaches your most sensitive part, His repeated assault on your g-spot makes you clench around him. He howls in pleasure, his head going backward. Soon he folds you into a mating press in a way you can only take his cock and moan out loud like an animal in heat. 

"Say that you're mine" he growls gripping hard on your hips. A bit out of it you just nod your head. Not pleased at all Sukuna takes you jaws in his hand forcing you to look at him "Say it" he whispers.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes ``I'm yours Sukuna, always been" you cry kissing the palm of his hand. Saying it out loud makes you feel weak but the way he looks at you... He's hungry and looks proud for you to be  his. A knot forms in your belly ready to snap under his ministrations. Satisfied with your answers he dips his head in your neck pounding onto you until your legs trash around him in your release. You're a moaning mess as he continues to ram inside of your sensitive cunt chasing his own high. A moment later you feel his warm seed tainting your insides. Sukuna collapses on top of you breathing heavily. 

You caress his back as you already came down from your high. Sukuna shifts your bodies so you're both on your sides facing each other. Tired, you smile at him tracing the tattoos on his face. His eyes never leave yours, the silence is comforting until you break it. 

"So was this better than to peek from a closet or a shower curtain?" you ask teasingly. The confusion displays clearly on his face. You knew he was there last night ? and back home the times he sneaks into your apartment ?  but you didn't say anything ? 

"What ? You didn't think that I wouldn't notice your presence ?" you scoff "I'm a woman who lives alone i'd be crazy to be that careless" 

"So yesterday you let the door open for me ?" he asks dumbfounded. You nod tracing his lips with your thumb. "The underwear under the pillow was for me too?" 

"Who else for? my dirty pervert" you giggle, kissing his lips.

So you've been playing with him all this time, you're as sick as him, you might just be his soulmate shit he's getting hard again.

[steddieas-shegoes]

love doesn't wait

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'this one's for you'

rated m | 685 words | cw: implied/referenced sex | tags: famous corroded coffin, side steddie, jeff's love story, love confessions

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Jeff didn't really think much about finding love, his focus too honed in on becoming a rockstar for most of his childhood and young adulthood. He hooked up, sure, but it was rare, and never lasted more than one night.

Love was for later, after he had hit singles and Grammy awards and music videos.

But love doesn't wait, and it certainly doesn't come when you plan for it.

Amy came out of nowhere.

She was front row at a show, and Jeff swears the spotlight stopped right on her. Eddie jokes that it was the angels pointing her out just for Jeff.

He managed to get security to find her right after the show, invited her backstage, and they were barely apart ever since.

She was on summer break from college, so she had nothing but time for him for two months.

It was fast, it was a little stupid, and it made him realize that being a rockstar wasn't everything he wanted.

On the last night that Amy would be with him, she stood backstage with Steve and Sam, watching with a fond smile as they performed.

"It's been great being so close to home, Indy!" Jeff yelled into the mic. "If it's okay with you, we're gonna take it slow for the next song. I've got a special someone here with me tonight. She's heading back home tomorrow and I'm gonna miss her pretty bad. This one's for you, love."

Jeff wasn't a big fan of playing acoustically, reserved their slow songs for Eddie's serenading of Steve most nights. But this was his way of saying what he'd already wanted to say for a while, and the guys had supported him.

"You get used to it," Steve nudged Amy's arm towards the end of the song, smiling at her as she wiped tears from her cheeks. "Kinda. Don't know if it's possible to ever get used to being serenaded in an arena full of 15,000 people."

"Yeah. This is a little crazy." She laughed when Jeff finished the song and threw a wink her way. "I don't wanna go back."

Steve looked over at her, curious, searching for any sign of her lying. When he didn't find any, he smiled. "Then don't. No one said you have to go to school right now. Life happens out of order sometimes."

Amy couldn't take her eyes off of Jeff as she nodded. "My parents will kill me."

"I've got plenty of experience with murderous parents." Steve placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing once. "What you've got here is worth more than their approval."

He walked away, probably to get snacks for the guys ready in the room backstage. They only had a couple more songs before they'd be done for the night.

Amy watched Jeff finish up.

She knew what she wanted. She knew it would be hard to do.

She knew it was worth it.

****

"I'm gonna stay," she whispered to him that night in bed, still coming down from the high of the show and the two orgasms he'd wrung from her so easily. "Can I?"

Jeff's arms tightened around her. "What about school?"

"I can go back in a few years. I don't wanna miss this with you."

"Won't your parents be mad?" He asked, tilting her face up by her chin to smile down at her.

"Yeah. But they aren't the ones who have to live my life. I love you and I wanna be with you."

"You love me?"

She slapped his chest, laughing. "Of course I do! You just sang a song for me in front of a huge crowd after two months of holding my hand everywhere we go."

"Well, when you put it like that..." Jeff rolled over until he was hovering over her, smiling down at the love of his life. "I think it's pretty clear I love you too."

"Maybe you could show me one more time tonight?" She kissed his neck, smiling against his skin as he groaned.

"You're lucky you're so hot."

"No, you're lucky I'm so hot."

[luveline]

i love the idea of Eddie in the zombie au!!!! i think you've mentioned the reader being rougher/tougher in this one and maybe they meet already in the campus or sometime on the road but r has been on their own for a while and Eddie is like the first person they can rely on in some time??

thank you for your request!! i apologise I wrote this as fem!reader before I realised you said ‘they’ later on, so if that isn’t okay with you please let me know/ send another request! <3

Eddie's trying not to stare at you, but he finds you attractive in the awe-striking way. You're ignoring his staring, crouched down by the crate beside him, counting cans under your breath. 

"Seventy two," you say. "How many did you say we needed to eat every day, Eds?"

You really shouldn't call him Eds. You're giving him a you-shaped complex, what with your nice smile (though he doesn't get to see it all the time) and your quite frankly distracting muscles. You're tougher than Eddie by far. He can't believe he had to end up in the middle of the apocalypse to find his dream girl, but here you are. 

"Eddie," you say, nudging him. "What was the math?" 

"Well, calorific intake wise, uh… it's twenty five hundred for men and twenty for women, but that didn't feel fair. It depends on what's in the cans–" 

"You said all this already," you say, "could I get the short answer?" 

"Like, three if we want to stay healthy-ish. Three each, so six a day." 

"Awesome. Twelve days, then." 

"But I think we should eat two. You know, insurance until we can go back for that second crate." 

You sit down on your ass heavily. "Okay, awesome. When are we going back? Tonight?" 

"You have a sprained wrist." 

You roll it in his face. "This old thing? She's fine." 

"It's not fine. Your wrist was the size of a coconut three days ago."

"Eddie, you treat me like a baby," you say. 

You stretch out onto his sheets and his twin mattress on the floor, which is great, he can't wait for the agony of being able to smell you tonight on his pillow, he really can't. You've taken your shoes off for once, three pairs of socks to your calves over your jeans like a weirdo and two t-shirts worn as though that's a regular thing to do. You haven't once needed Eddie's help since he found you, nor has he really needed yours, but you've looked out for him without complaint, sharing your food, letting him follow you from place to place. 

He thinks, despite your tougher persona, that you quite like the company. You like him, which is brilliant, because Eddie's lowkey planning your wedding in his head. Something classy, barefoot on the beach maybe, he won't wear a suit (when would he ever) and you probably wouldn't want to wear a white dress, but he's sure there's something you'd like. 

"You have your head in the clouds again," you say. 

"No," he denies. 

He lays back on your mattress and tries to move aside your dirty t-shirt without chasing a fuss. You're not shy about privacy, as in, you don't want any. Obviously you don't force him to bear all nor do you force him to see anything he doesn't want to see, but it's been a shock sometimes to turn around and find you've taken off your shirt to lounge in your bra. The summer heat is disgusting, layer thick and suffocating as insulation no matter how many windows you risk opening in the house above. 

"Don't be mean, tell me what you're thinking about," you say. 

Where to start? Your tight biceps, your theoretical wedding, or your shirtlessness? 

"I was thinking we shouldn't bother going back tonight for the second crate. We need to sleep. I need to feel like a normal person." 

"You're far from normal." 

"Says you." 

"If I were a boy," you say, "you wouldn't think anything about it. I'd be super normal." 

"It's not about being a girl," he says, grabbing one of your pillows to throw at you. You grab it quickly and throw it straight back. 

"What is it about, jerk?" you ask. 

"I don't care if you're a girl, I care that you're, like, the bravest person I've ever met." 

"Now I feel bad for chucking a pillow at you." 

"You're really cool. So, can we please go to bed early?" 

"Oh, right. Yeah, swap with me. Sorry if I made your bed smell bad. Tomorrow we need to find some more soap." 

"You don't smell bad," he says. "You know I usually tell you." 

It's not fun or pleasant to run out of deodorant these days. You must keep a small pharmacy in your bag, but soap is on rations. 

"You do tell me. Eddie…" You sit up. "I really don't smell bad?" 

"Not today." 

"I can give you a hug, then?" you ask. 

"Sorry?" 

"Eddie. I've met lots of people since the end of the world," —you sit up on knees, your hands outstretched gently, fingers apart— "like, so many people, but you're the only person I ever stayed with, because you're good, and you're nice. I trust you to take care of me, and I really want to give you a hug." 

"I don't think you need taking care of," he mumbles. 

You shuffle toward him where he hikes on elbows. Without shame, you wrap your arms around him and hug him close. "But if I needed you to, you would… Right?" 

"Right," he says. He starts carefully but his body must realise someone's close, someone who wants to be held, and suddenly he's hugging you tightly, his back straining in the position. He holds you far longer than he should, worried you'll pull away and see his blushing face. "Of course I would. You're the last person I'd imagine needing looking after, but yeah, I'd do it. I'd love to do it."

"Well," you say quietly, adjusting your cheek against his, "what are we going to do about my wrist?" 

"It's hurting, isn't it? I fucking knew it." 

You lean back onto your haunches, laughing. "Like a bitch. Not when you were squeezing it." 

"You need pressure. I'll wrap a bandage around it. You'll be fine in a day or two." 

You stand up in search of the first aid kit no doubt. Eddie smiles like a loon while your back is turned, flustered by your warm hug and soft touches. It was better than he's pictured. He wonders when you'll hug him again. 

"Eddie? I'm really sorry, but you smell bad." 

"Yikes," he says. Kill me now, he thinks. "Thanks for your honesty." 

You laugh. "Welcome." 

[catchingdaydreams]

Beach Day!🏖️

Mithrun x Gardener Reader

Part 1 here to make sense of some stuff

Word count: idk 2000 ish.

Begrudgingly the summers heat over the island became too burdensome to work along your orchids for the past couple of days. It was particularly a good season too for your plum trees but this blistering heat made up unable to harvest at this time. Furthermore, you were more afraid of your friend and helper, Mithrun of passing out from heatstroke....again. And you really didn't want to spend the hot summer afternoon playing hide and seek, looking for him among the many acres that were bestowed onto you.

Staying indoors wasn't very productive either. The times that you don't work, you spend having tea with Mithrun in your green house. He had picked up a bit of a bad habit from trying to slowly regain his desires again. See he became very picky, stubborn even , noting that he only would rest and have tea in the same spot. Before you got well accustomed to him, you immediately chased him out with your broom when you first invited him into your home only for him to call it as quote " a poor shack that even the rats won't nest in". At the moment he still won't even step inside your home, despite your friendship blooming. The last mention of it, he made a puzzlingly looking expression. For a brief second you saw his ears twitch from his hair, catching flushed redness. But that could have been just your imagination.

Nevertheless the green house was out of the question, for it was way too hot to endure as well. As you were thinking of a way you would be spending your time with Mithrun today and an excellent idea popped into your head.

---------------------🍋--------------------

"The beach?" Mithrun mimicked, confused at your sudden suggestion. "Yeah! Why not. It's too hot to do anything today and I thought, what's something I haven't done in a long time and can escape this awful weather by doing it". Mithrun hummed, looking in deep thought. One might think by looking at him that he seemed completely uninterested. But you knew him long enough to at least pick up a few signs. There was curiosity in his eyes for the most part but hesitation pooled in.

" I don't think Cithis would agree with this. I'm not allowed to go near large bodies of water". Mithrun stated. There were many things he still wasn't allowed to do on his own anymore, not since the time he became a lord of the dungeon. Most rules he followed were for his health, both mentally and physically. Pattadol even bestowed you the rights to cut his hair. You thought it was strange at first until she quickly filled in on his situation and his not so past history with sharp objects. The elves method that cutting others hair was a sacred thing among family and close friends, that I should feel honored to do it. In reality you only do it as Mithrun had stopped anyone else from touching his hair , proclaiming that you did a better job at evening it.

In the moment you laughed at his response.

You found his statement kinda ironic too as he didn't care at all what the Canaries thought now, especially when he was wandering off to see you while they had no clue where he was. Your laughter was interrupted as he spoke again.

"I cannot swim either" he stated, this time a bit meekly, almost embarrassed. " Not with the ocean's current." You understood what he meant. His body was still too weak for physical endurance. That's why he uses magic most of the time for travelling to see you.

"that's fine, you should be alright if you just stick to the shallows. And even if you get swept away I can come rescue you!" You reassured Mithrun, grabbing his hand and giving a light squeeze.

"so you be my knight in shining armor then?" Mithrun says his usual monotone voice, but smiles.

"mmm probably not the shining armor part, I think I'll just sink to the ocean floor before reaching you" You joke, acting it out dramatically, pulling Mithrun down with you ever so slightly as you kept holding his hand.

He smile grows.

"Maybe a siren would be more befitting with you, y/n. Considering your dragging me down with you already. How monstrous." You just gently shove him at his response.

You quickly collect yourself and make way into your home, gathering up all the necessary equipment before coming back out. Interlocking your arms with his you say your ready to teleport there. And in a flash your gone.

....

"um Mithrun?"

"mmm?"

"this isn't the beach"

Looking around, Mithrun quickly took in that in fact this was not a beach but at the entrance of a dungeon.

"Oh, yeah I don't think this is the beach"

...

...

.......

"Mithan, the beach this time".

"Okey"

----------------------🍋-------------------

Several teleports later the two of you eventually find yourself along a secluded beach. You stretch as you take in the sea air. Already the coolness of the oceans breeze was doing wonders for you.

You sigh as you plob down your towels in the nearest shade. You pat a spot for Mithrun to sit and he follows instantly. From your supplies you carried along a picnic basket.

"thought we might eat first before we go for a swim. It's not what we usually have, but this is more fitting for this setting" you say as you take out various fruits and cheese you got from the market, alongside some cracker's and bread.

Mithrun ponders over the options before noticing something was missing. "No tea?" His ears dropped as he could not find is favorite lemon tea packed along with everything else.

You snort. "Oh Mithrun, that's something a bit hard for me to make. I know you can make the water boil with your magic and such but I wanted you to try something else. You'll be the first one to taste it too.

That seems to cheer him up a bit. More curious if anything.

Reaching into the basket you pull out a small flask and two shot glasses. Pouring the clear liquid in both you hand it to Mithrun. He inspects before taking a small sip. Instantly he gags at the strong flavor, quickly picking up a few sliced apples to get rid of the taste.

"mmm might be too strong" you ponder, taking the shot in one go like it was nothing to you.

"Wha-what that?"Mithrun rasps.

"oh! It's Pálinka, it's an alcoholic drink made from some of the plums I was able to harvest. Thought you might like it but maybe a cherry base would have been better for you considering you like sour stuff more. Mmm sorry ."

"no, no it's.....nice" He lies, he couldn't even hide the disgusted look on his face.

"welp more for me", you take the shot glass from him and down the hatch it went.

"I can handle alcohol". He says.

"I'm sure you can". You don't fully believe him, certainly not after that reaction.

In the corner of your eye, you see Mithrun quickly tries to grab the flask out of your hands but you are faster. "You don't need to prove yourself, Mith, it's an acquired taste that not many tall man ourselves like." You say placing the beverage back into the basket. He just grumbles in response, nibbling on the crispy apples.

"Besides we came for the beach not to get drunk". You say picking on some fruits before getting up and taking your top off, reviling swimwear undergarments. As you were about to take your pants off you heard a Mithrun breath heavy, as if he was holding on to it before. You didn't bother to glace over as you were too preoccupied folding your clothes.

"what?"

"nothing..." He quickly responds. It was in fact not nothing. He was lucky for you not to see his flushed shocked face as you stripped in front of him. He just managed to control his emotions in time as you turned around to place your clothes in the basket.

You just hummed at his response You didn't want to pressure him further on the matter. Besides you had other things to do Such as swimming.

You raced into the water, giggled at the relief it gave you from the summers heat. It was bliss. You call out to Mithrun stating the waters fine and to hop in with you.

He slowly gets up and trots to the waters edge. You know the whole beach thing was at the spare of the moment so Mithrun didn't have swim shorts with him so his pants would have to do. But as he entered the water you were quite puzzled as to why he didn't remove his long sleeved shirt.

"you're not taking your shirt off? It would be heavy to swim in it". The odds of him actually having trouble swimming would become higher if he kept it on. You went too fond of actually trying to save a drowning elf anytime soon.

Mithrun stopped, looking at you before quickly avoiding your gaze. A flash of emotion took his eyes. Pain, disgust and shame washed over.

"Im- you won't like it" he says, barely able to hear it.

"like what?" You say confused.

....

It took a few seconds before he spoke. As if unable to properly find the right words for what he was going to say next.

"My body. Isn't it right" it's a crit and vile tone as he spoke about himself.

You were still confused but concerned about how Mithrun was reacting. He took a glance at you and signed. He knew he didn't have to show it to you but he felt like he had no choice. Just let you see him and then you wouldn't bring it up again. You would be too disgusted anyway. He got over it and pulled his top partial up.

"Mith...."

You didn't know what to expect. His stomach was adorned with warped skin that twists and pulls looking like it never truly healed properly. His lanky and frail form was littered in scar, some thick and asymmetrical, some thin, some repeated over and over in the same spot. It made your heart drop. Not how it looked but how awful Mithrun must feel.

Your lack of silence stung even more for Mithrun. He wanted to leave right then and there but was too frozen. He didn't even hear your voice call out to him. He was in a haze, about to shut down until you cupped his cheek, making him properly look at you. His glassy eye bore in shock as he looked directly in yours, searching for disgusted in any way shape or form. But there was none.

"You can keep your top on if you want to , if that's what makes you feel comfortable. But I just want to let you know I'm not disgusted nor I would look down on you for it. Never ever. You're still my friend Mithrun and Im here for you. All your scars, it shows you are a survivor, so strong and determined to continue on despite dealing the bad hand.... Oh I'm not good with these types of things when it comes to words but I hope that helps-ah!"

Mithrun pulls you into a tightly hug. He nests his face in on your shoulder, a feeling of dampness is on your skin. Your hands reach out to rub his back, soothing him as his cries in front of you for the first time. You let him continue letting it out, until cries become sniffles.

"...Thank you" he says meekly, still holding onto you with the same force, as if scared that you would disappear if he let's go.

"Do you still want to swim with me ?"

He just nods into your shoulder.

You're the one that breaks the hug but your hands move to his own and intertwine them as you guide him into the deeper water.

"wait". He says and you pause. He let go of your hand for a quick sec, to take off his top completely, chucking onto the sand. You smile as he grabs it again giving it a squeeze to confirm to continue.

The two of you spend most of your time in the water, cooling off and not drowning. As pleasant as it was you wanted to do other beach style activities with Mithrun. He in fact cannot build a sand castle. He was being too much of a perfectionist and would redo his castle again and again. It didn't help that the tide was coming in a swept away at one less imperfect castle he made. Shortly after you decided to look for seashells before arriving back on your towels and finishing whatever food was left.

Both of you lay down on the towel, taking in the warmth. Neither of you said a word to each other but there was no need to. Everything felt content. It was a pleasant day, you felt, spending it with your friend made you all the more content. And as you both further basked, the greater ease of sleep fell onto both of you till eventually you're snoozing together on this summer afternoon. Truly peaceful as if nothing could go wrong.....

You both got sunburnt.

----------------------🍋-----------------

Phfft

"Oh my God, you look like a tomato!!" Fleki cackles as she slams her hands on the table, unable to control her fits of laughter as all the Canaries witness a very sunburnt Mithrun. She tired poking at his red skin but Pattadol swatted their hand away.

"Mmmm? He's not completely red though look there I think there are hand prints on his hips. Oh Mithrun you're not leaving much to the imagination are you. Quite Naughty~" Lycion giggled.

Mithrun shot him a glare.

"Well I think he's learnt his lesson. Next time please apply sunscreen." Pattadol stated as she applied aloa over his burnt back.

"I'm surprised he even took his shirt off, wasn't you with y/n? Usually you kick such a fuss about exposing your body even hiding your injuries from us. This is an odd change indeed" Otta says puzzled.

In the mist of all the chatting Mithrun turns his gaze to the only elf in the room who hasn't made some jab or snark comment about his appearance. Cithis smiles warmly at Mithrun, a sort of fondness like a mother has for a child. Deep down she knows something about Mithrun that he doesn't quite know himself yet.

"Did you have a fun day at the Beach, Mithrun?" She asks softly.

The group stops talking, all eyes are on him.

Mithrun ponders in deep thought. Recalling the events that took place today. The elves were shocked to see a cheshire cat like smile was plastered on his face as he gazed fondly into nothingness.

"Yeah, I think-no.... I know I did".

[Thanks for reading!]

This fic was just made up on the spot and was originally supposed to be a funny crack fic about Mithrun getting in all sorts of trouble at the beach in a comedic way. But as I kept writing I was like damn it's definitely not a crack fic. Anyway I am really happy with how this turned out.