#by now i meant right this millisecond

[lamb-teaa]

` Choose Us, Choose Me

` pairing: colonel!Caleb x mechanic!reader

` tags: canon divergence!! strictly doesn't follow canon timeline!! but might seem similar?? idk tbh. anyway ANGST. full hurt no comfort. vague plot. vague relationship. vague mentions of betrayal and double agents. vvvery short scenario.

` teaa's note: having to wait for 22 Jan for Caleb's full lore to drop, imma indulge in my personal headcanon for this ficlet instead - a special (&painful) treat for all the Caleb girlies (and me ehe!) (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Your silence is the cruelest punishment he had ever endured.

Yet Caleb too remained silent as he watched you meticulously work on repairing his damaged bionic arm, not once had you uttered a single word since his impromptu arrival at your workshop stationed within the massive spaceship.

You merely glanced at him, your tired gaze instantly flickering towards his shortcircuiting arm before letting out a small huff of annoyance as you slammed the coffee mug on the messy table. Like a routine checkup, you wordlessly pointed towards the empty seat and began working on fixing his bionic arm back to good as new.

All the while the tense atmosphere remained palpable within the workshop. Even your trusty little invention-slash-companion robot, Brownie had jumped over the table, holding out all the necessary tools for you to fix Caleb up, yet the presence of the adorable little brown robot cat wasn't enough to shimmer down the tension in the air.

Your expression remained aloof yet the look in your eyes held a strong suppressed rage. Caleb winced when you purposely handled his arm a tad bit too roughly, shooting a side eyed glare at Brownie snickering at him, a clear message of 'you deserve it!' written all over your little companion's face.

Caleb was tempted to send the smug rascal flying across the room using his Evol.

...But he wouldn't want to risk facing your wrath, not when you're still mad pissed at him right now.

"...You know I had to do it." Caleb decided to break the silence first, his eyes locked onto your face, hoping to ease down your anger even just a little bit. "I was following orders."

You stayed silent, nonchalantly avoiding his gaze as your attention was solely on the holographic screen displaying the restoration process.

Caleb gritted his teeth, growing agitated by your lack of response. Why were you so stubborn? Why couldn't you understand him? Why do you have to subject him to this stupid silent treatment of yours?

Why can't you see he's doing all this for your sake?

"It's done." You finally spoke after a long tense silence, your voice cold and detached as you did the final adjustments on his bionic arm. His piercing stare was suffocating you and you wanted nothing more than to be out of his sight. "Now get out."

You had only turned around for a brief millisecond before his hand suddenly snatched your wrist, pulling you close to him. His taller frame towering over you, his face confronted in a mixture of anguish and pain - a sight that made your heart ache, but you refuse to show any weakness, not in front of him, especially not in front of a cruel man like him.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Caleb spoke lowly, struggling to suppress his own anger. "Aren't you tired of these charades of yours?"

You glared up at him defiantly, despite the slight tremble from his iron grip. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me." He scowled, his grip on your wrist tightened slightly. "How long are you going to play both sides? Do you think they're going to let you off easily once they find out you've been secretly colluding with the enemy?"

His heart sank in dread at your unfazed reaction, as if you've been expecting this to happen sooner or later, that the consequences be damned if it meant fulfilling your own secret mission no matter the cost.

Even at the expense of your own wellbeing.

"..Choose us." Choose me. Caleb shut his eyes briefly before letting go of your wrist, his voice strained with a soft plea as his hands gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "I can guarantee your safety if you choose our side, please Princess. You'll die if you keep this up."

He sees the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, the conflict swimming in those alluring gaze that never fail to make his heart stutter. But as soon as that raising hope for you turn to his side came, it vanished in an instant when you slapped his hands away.

"I'd rather much die." You spat, your fist clutched the collar of his shirt as you glared up at him, the hatred and disgust written all over your face as your final words shattered his heart into pieces.

"Than to serve the likes of abominations like you.”

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1

Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.

Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.

~*~*~

The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.

Ah. That was panic.

Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."

Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Five."

The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.

"Four."

"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.

"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.

"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.

"Two."

"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.

"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.

Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.

"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.

"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.

"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."

So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.

"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.

"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.

"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.

Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“I’ll admit,” the villain whispered, their hand slowly sliding along the hero’s leg - from their knee to their thigh to be precise - “I’m a bit rusty.”

“You?” the hero asked.

“We haven’t seen each other in six months,” the villain said. “That’s enough time to rust.”

“I thought you would have gotten your fun elsewhere.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Softly, the villain pressed a kiss to the hero’s throat and the hero (stupidly so) forgot their responsibilities very quickly again.

The hero didn’t consider themselves particularly greedy in bed. They took what partners threw at them and usually, that was enough. With the villain, it felt different. They felt more confident, they felt terribly secure. The hero wasn’t a passive party anymore.

“Six months are enough to move on,” the hero whispered.

Their stomach dropped when they realised that the villain was giving them a hickey. Instinctively, the hero grabbed their enemy’s clothes but only got a hold of one of the bullet proof vest’s straps. Though the hero tried to pull them closer, the villain didn’t move until they were done on the hero’s throat.

With a wet sound, they parted.

“You’ll understand how desperate I am right now, then.”

“Is it smart to continue this?” the hero asked. Six months. Six. Often, their thoughts would circle around the villain. As if they were an addict.

“…do you want to continue this?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Again, they leaned in and this time, they left a trail of kisses on the hero’s neck.

Within milliseconds, shivers ran down the hero’s spine and their brain fried. Their heart was loud enough for both to hear.

“I don’t know…maybe something changed, maybe you changed.” The villain looked at them, their usually focused and serious eyes suddenly soft.

“Love, what are you talking about?”

“Maybe there is someone else you…” The hero took in a deep breath. Six months were a long, long time and if the villain had found someone else during that time…someone who was simply more fitting, the hero didn’t want to stand between them. The villain was charismatic, chatty, nice when they had to be. Surely there had been someone who had shown interest while the villain was in hiding.

“You’re aware I am extremely picky when it comes to my partner.”

“Yes, I know. But—”

“And stupidly loyal.”

The hero didn’t know what to say to that. They knew what loyalty meant to the villain. It wasn’t a term they used carelessly.

“Don’t worry,” the villain murmured. They pressed an innocent kiss to the hero’s lips and continued with another one that was a little more daring.

The hero had almost forgotten what it felt like to be kissed. What it felt like to have the villain’s tongue in their mouth.

Even as the villain pulled away, the hero couldn’t form a single coherent thought.

“You’re my nemesis,” the villain reminded them. Two of their fingers traced an invisible path down the hero’s chest. “You’re irreplaceable.”

The villain was methodical. They were gentle. Their hand stopped on the hero’s lower stomach.

“And now, be a darling and spread your legs. I’ve been craving the sounds you make for half a year.”

[its-avalon-08]

can you write for max or carlos a fic where the reader is a billionaire and max or carlos is just a normal person with a 9-5 except that they don’t know reader is rich until she leaves her bank account open on her laptop or something similar? ❤️

money money money must be funny (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - carlos!not a driver, romance

Carlos Sainz wasn’t the type to snoop. He respected Y/N’s space—her home, her things, her boundaries. But today, as he casually walked into her apartment after work to wait for her, something caught his eye. Her laptop was on the kitchen counter, lid slightly ajar, and the screen had gone dark, but the faint hum of the device meant it was still on.

He didn’t mean to look. He really didn’t. But as he reached over to close it, a notification pinged, revealing her bank account summary. The number on the screen wasn’t just large—it was staggering. It looked more like a jackpot figure than an average person’s savings account.

Carlos froze. His thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. Was this even real? Had she won the lottery? Was Y/N secretly a crypto genius?

A loud buzz from his phone brought him back to reality—Y/N had texted that she’d be back in an hour. His first instinct was to laugh it off. She was probably just babysitting some wealthy CEO’s account or something. But the more he thought about it, the more the pieces started to fit.

That expensive bag she’d said was “on sale”? The first-edition watch she gave him for his birthday? And the sleek new car she drove, claiming it was a "company lease"?

He shut the laptop and paced around the apartment, fighting the urge to overthink. Why hadn’t she told him? Did she not trust him? Was she afraid of how he’d react?

When Y/N walked in, all smiles and carrying takeout, Carlos decided to play it cool.

“Hey, cariño,” she greeted, setting the bags down on the counter. “Hope you weren’t bored waiting for me.”

“Not at all,” he said, forcing a smile. “How was your day?”

“The usual. Meetings, emails, surviving on coffee. Yours?”

Carlos shrugged. “Not bad. I ran into something interesting, though.”

“Oh?” she asked, unpacking the food.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. “I was browsing online earlier. You know, just random stuff. Came across this site that sells luxury bags. That brand you have—you said it was on sale, right?”

Y/N’s hands froze for a millisecond before she quickly recovered. “Uh, yeah. Got lucky, I guess. Why?”

Carlos tilted his head, pretending to think. “Just curious. Even on sale, they’re pretty pricey. Like… really pricey.”

She chuckled nervously. “Well, it was a one-time splurge. A treat-yourself moment.”

“Hmm,” he said, letting it drop—for now.

Later, while they were eating, he casually gestured to his watch. “You know, my coworkers keep asking me where I got this. I mean, it’s not every day you see something like this.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Really? Well, you deserve nice things.”

“True,” he said with a small smirk. “But I don’t think I could ever afford something like this on my own.”

She looked down at her food, her fork hovering mid-air. “Carlos, I—”

“You know,” he interrupted, trying to sound playful, “you never told me how you got it. Or that car. Or… well, a lot of things, actually.”

Y/N’s eyes darted up to meet his. “What are you trying to say?”

Carlos leaned back, giving her a pointed look. “Nothing. Just making conversation.”

She laughed nervously, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I guess I’m just good at finding deals.”

“Right,” he said, dragging out the word. “Must be a talent of yours.”

The rest of the evening passed in a strange tension. Carlos didn’t push further, but the weight of unspoken questions lingered between them. Every now and then, he’d make an offhand comment—about the high-tech gadgets in her apartment or the exclusive restaurants she “managed to snag reservations for.”

By the time Y/N excused herself to shower, Carlos was left alone with his thoughts again. He wasn’t angry, not really. But he was confused. Why hide something like this? Did she think he’d judge her?

As the sound of running water filled the apartment, Carlos sat on the couch, staring at his watch. He traced the edges of it with his thumb, his mind racing.

He loved her—he truly did. But for the first time since they’d been together, he wasn’t sure he fully knew her.

--

Carlos’s birthday started like any other day—quiet, unassuming, and, as far as he was concerned, just another regular weekday. But when he walked into Y/N’s apartment that evening, he realized how wrong he’d been.

The entire living room was transformed. Gold and black balloons floated in clusters, streamers lined the walls, and a massive “Happy Birthday, Carlos” banner stretched across the ceiling. The dining table was set with a feast fit for a Michelin-starred restaurant—complete with candles, a perfectly plated cake, and his favorite wine.

“You did all this?” Carlos asked, his eyes wide as he took it all in.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, beaming, wearing a sleek dress that looked straight out of a fashion magazine. “Surprise!”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t have to go this far, cariño.”

“Of course, I did,” she said, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve the best.”

He took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the effort she’d gone to. But the gifts sitting on the table caught his attention—each one wrapped immaculately in expensive-looking paper.

“Are those… all for me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “Open them and see.”

He started unwrapping them one by one. First, a designer leather jacket. Then, a limited-edition pair of sneakers he’d mentioned in passing months ago. And finally, a watch—sleek, elegant, and undoubtedly expensive.

Carlos held it up, speechless. “Y/N… this is—”

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Like it?” he said, shaking his head. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

“It’s worth it,” she said softly. “You’re worth it.”

Carlos pulled her into a hug, his mind racing. As they swayed gently, his voice was low but teasing. “You know, between the jacket, the sneakers, and this watch… you’re starting to spoil me. I might get used to it.”

She laughed nervously, her face buried in his chest. “Well, it’s your birthday. You deserve to be spoiled.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her waist. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light but inquisitive, “how do you afford all this? I mean, between the car, the gifts, and—well, everything. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘9-to-5.’”

Her smile faltered for a second. “I… budget well,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Carlos tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but still kind. “Budget well? You’re buying things most people would save for years to afford. That’s some serious budgeting.”

“I just… know how to find deals,” she said quickly.

“Deals, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Like the kind that let you buy a car worth more than most people’s houses?”

Her laugh was more forced this time. “Carlos, come on, it’s not like that.”

He didn’t push, not yet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her close. “You know,” he said softly, his chin resting on her head, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About how generous you are. How thoughtful. How you somehow always manage to outdo yourself.”

“That’s just because I love you,” she murmured.

“And I love you too,” he said, his voice warm. “But you don’t have to go overboard, you know. I’d still love you if you didn’t get me a watch that probably costs more than my rent.”

She tensed slightly in his arms, and he felt it.

“It’s just…” he continued, his tone deliberately casual, “I can’t help but wonder. You must have some serious savings to pull all this off.”

“Well, I—”

“Or maybe,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you’re secretly a billionaire.”

Relaxed she went, “Yeah, exactly.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her body went rigid, and she immediately pulled back, her eyes wide with panic. “I mean—wait—no—”

Carlos’s brows shot up. “Oh.”

“Carlos, I didn’t mean—”

“Y/N,” he said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Just… take a deep breath.”

She did, her hands trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

“So it’s true?” he asked softly. “You’re… rich?”

She hesitated, then nodded, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. “Yes. But it’s not like you think. I didn’t want it to change how you see me.”

Carlos’s expression softened. “Cariño, why would it change how I see you?”

“Because… people treat me differently when they know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to love me for me, not for my money.”

He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Y/N, I fell in love with the woman who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. The one who listens to me ramble about football and surprises me with my favorite snacks. Not the size of your bank account.”

Her eyes searched his, still uncertain. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad,” he assured her. “A little surprised, sure. Maybe a bit hurt you didn’t tell me sooner. But I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should’ve told you.”

He smiled, pulling her back into his arms. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“No more pretending your gifts are ‘on sale.’ You’re a terrible liar.”

She laughed, the tension finally breaking. “Deal.”

--

The living room was bathed in a warm, golden glow from the lamps as Carlos and Y/N cuddled on the couch. Her head rested against his chest, and his arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders. The cake sat half-eaten on the coffee table, alongside empty plates and glasses.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice soft as he broke the comfortable silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Y/N murmured, tracing patterns on his shirt with her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his tone gentle but curious. “About… everything?”

Y/N stiffened slightly in his arms but relaxed when he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She sighed, her breath warm against his chest.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” she began quietly. “I just… I’ve had bad experiences before.”

Carlos frowned, his hand moving in soothing circles on her back. “What kind of experiences?”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and sadness. “People have used me for my money, Carlos. Pretended to care about me just because they wanted access to my lifestyle, my connections. It’s happened more times than I’d like to admit.”

Carlos’s expression softened, his heart aching for her. “Y/N…”

“It’s not just romantic relationships,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “Friends, too. People I thought I could trust would suddenly start asking for favors, for loans they never intended to repay. Or they’d make comments, subtle digs, like I didn’t deserve what I had because I was born into it.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, resting his chin on her head. “I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I started to feel like no one saw me, you know?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “It was always about what I could give them, not who I was. So, when I met you, I just… I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling. Finally, he tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not those people. I don’t care about your money, or what you can buy, or any of that. I care about you. The person who makes me laugh, who’s always there for me, who’s just… you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she gave him a small, shaky smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his gaze unwavering. “I know it’s hard, letting someone in. But I want you to know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. Okay?”

She nodded, her smile growing a little stronger. “Okay.”

Carlos leaned down and kissed her gently, pouring all his love and reassurance into the moment. When they pulled apart, he gave her a teasing grin.

“Although, I do have to say, I feel a little cheated. All this time, I’ve been paying for dinner when you could’ve been spoiling me instead.”

Y/N burst out laughing, swatting his chest. “Oh, so now you want to be spoiled?”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to the occasional fancy dinner. But honestly? I’d take ramen with you on the couch over anything else.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. “You’re too good to be true, Carlos.”

He kissed her forehead, his voice soft. “So are you, cariño. So are you.”

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

summary: Wanda edges you, and you take it all like a good girl.

content warnings: whew, there’s a lot. Cunnilingus, fingering, choking, collar and leash play, choking, edging, spreader bar, restraints, overstimulation, vibrator, strap-on, passing out

word count: 4.6k+

masterlist

A/N: This was requested by @mrsromanovaa ! You can find the original request here.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Soon, Darling

“On the bed, darling. You know how I like you.” 

Wanda’s voice is firm, her accent rolling over each syllable as you attempt to not shiver at the command. Without speaking, you nod once and move your shaky legs towards the massive bed in the center of the room. Approving green eyes watch your movement, even as her face remains unreadable. 

Taking a few calming breaths, you position yourself on top of the soft comforter. You’re thankful for its dark maroon color, sure that you must be dripping as you move onto your back. After all, Wanda hadn’t been subtle with her teasing glances and forward touches throughout your date night. She knew which buttons to press, what words to say, and which times to whisper directly in your ear as you shivered beneath her. 

Even thinking about the evening the two of you had shared brought a pleasant warm buzz to your chest, and you refused to acknowledge what that buzz could mean. Shaking yourself from your rapidly spiraling thoughts, you smiled gently at your girlfriend, pleased at the wink you received in return. Excitement filled you as she moved to kneel on the foot of the bed, her fingers grazing your ankles as her eyes began to glow scarlet. 

Oh yeah, your girlfriend had totally awesome powers. And, she wasn't shy about using them around you. Suck on that, Vision. 

Wanda twisted her fingers, an object slapped into the palm of her hand, and all thoughts of her ex boyfriend left your mind as you realized what she held. The two of you had talked in depth about different things to try in the bedroom, but seeing it in person was slightly terrifying. But, also incredibly arousing at the same thing. 

You refused to think about what that meant for your psyche. 

The spreader bar was placed between your spread ankles, Wanda’s knees just barely touching it as she began to run her hands over your calves, fingers light and teasing. Oh, you were definitely dripping now. 

Evidently, Wanda could either see the evidence right before her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face as you willingly spread your legs further for her, or she could smell it. That was one of her favorite phrases to say, and one that never failed to turn you on even more than you already were. 

“God, you smell divine. Is that all for me?” She’d ask, and you’d somehow find yourself giving her every part of you that you had to offer. Sometimes you wondered how the events of an evening had unfolded, your brain went a little bit too fuzzy sometimes, only remembering how you felt during the experience. Wanda would reassure you, telling you that subspace was normal and nothing to be afraid of, and of course, you believed her. 

“Darling?”

Ah, there you went again. Getting trapped in your own head. It wasn’t your fault that you got lost in a train of thought. Or, maybe it was. Actually, thinking about it, it was totally your fault because it was your own head, right? And-

“Focus, love.” Wanda’s voice cut through your inner monologue, halting your thoughts immediately. In the space of a millisecond, you felt your brain get squeezed through a tube, the bedroom becoming sharper as you seemed to re-enter your own body. Green eyes peered down at you, searching your own as Wanda’s fingers gently stroked your face. 

“Sorry, I,” You didn’t get the chance to speak, Wanda’s finger pressing gently against your lips, understanding in her eyes. 

“It’s alright darling, are you ready to continue?” Her voice was low, reminding you of the heat pooling in your gut. You felt another wave of arousal, and nodded quickly. 

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Wanda smiled approvingly, and you were grateful for the single lamp that glowed warmly in the corner of the room. At least she wouldn’t be able to see most of the blush that spread across your cheeks. Then again, judging by her knowing gaze, she definitely knew what her words did to you. 

Moving slowly, as if not to scare you, Wanda moved her hands firmly up and down your calves. It seemed almost as if she was giving you a massage, but when she grasped one ankle firmly while bringing one end of the spreader bar towards it, you knew that you were in for a long night. 

“Too tight?” 

You shook your head, eyes wide as you experimentally flexed your ankle. The strap attached to you didn’t budge, and you could feel the tension of the metal rod as Wanda moved to attach the rest of the spreader bar to your other ankle. She gripped the middle of the metal, giving it an experimental tug. 

Your body jolted, hips moving closer towards your girlfriend as she pulled you closer by the spreader bar. Her smile was nothing short of wicked, and you shivered at the hungry look in her eyes as they roamed your helpless body. At least your hands were free. 

Wanda gave you a look, twisting her fingers once again as your wrists were wrapped in scarlet wisps and pulled tight against the headboard. You sighed, of course she was in your head, the tricky little witch. 

“Behave.” She commanded, and you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes, knowing that would only bring punishment. You really didn’t want that, not after the hours of teasing she’d put you through during dinner. 

“Please, Wanda.”

“That’s not my name.” Her eyes were hot, fixed on your body as you squirmed slightly beneath her watchful gaze. The tension rolling in your gut was becoming overwhelming, and your clit throbbed as you feebly thrusted your hips towards her. 

“Please…” You begged, taking a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. 

Raising a single eyebrow, Wanda tilted her head. Your heart jump started, racing once again at the movement. Her hands moved teasingly over your inner thighs, fingers mere centimeters away from your messy pussy.  She was teasing you, the promise of her fingers finally granting you the relief you so desperately needed sending you over the edge of embarrassment.  

“Mommy…” You knew it sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t really control how your voice sounded at the moment. 

Wanda was pleased, a low sounding hum reverberating through her chest as she thought about her next moves. You waited patiently, knowing that this was the moment that she would decide if she was going to tease you for the rest of the night, or give in and pleasure you until you begged her to stop. 

Both options sounded great to you, so you weren’t too worried about the outcome of her decision. 

Deciding to test the strength of the newest restraint, you tried to push your ankles together. Your legs didn’t move an inch, and you realized that you were well and truly fucked if Wanda decided to tease you. There was no escaping, no matter how hard you tried. 

Again, you really didn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean. 

“I think,” Wanda started, and your ears immediately perked up. “I think that I need a blindfold.”

After announcing that very helpful and definitely not-at-all frustrating announcement, Wanda got off the bed, smirking at you as she made her way into your shared walk-in closet. You sighed, throwing your head against the pillows as you tried to control your reaction to her words. You knew exactly which drawer she was rummaging around in, and thinking about the multitude of toys within it made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Anything to reduce the unbearable ache between your legs. 

Oh, wait. You couldn’t. Wanda had made sure of that with a high quality spreader bar. You moved your legs again, realizing the only thing you could do was bring your knees towards your chest. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get your legs to fully close. 

Giving up, you steadfastly ignored the rush of arousal accompanied by juices flowing from your pussy at the knowledge that your legs were permanently open for your girlfriend. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way. More arousal leaked down your inner thighs, and you smirked at the thought of what Wanda would say when she found a puddle of your own arousal beneath you. 

“You know,” Wanda’s voice startled you, and your eyes greedily took in her naked form as she made her way towards you. You didn’t imagine the extra sway to her hips, and you licked your lips as she moved to kneel beside you on the bed. 

Cold hands caressed your face briefly before Wanda placed a strip of fabric securely over your eyes, tying the back of it tightly as you raised your head helpfully. She continued speaking, even as you felt her weight shifting around on the mattress. 

“I’ve been thinking,” She moved towards your ankles, settling herself between your legs. Her hands gripped the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kneading the muscles. “I want to use my mouth tonight, my tongue feels restless.”

You groaned, the sound coming out as more of a moan as Wanda chuckled somewhere near your drenched pussy. The last time she’d used her mouth, you almost passed out from the sheer amount of pleasure she had brought you, your clit over sensitive for the rest of the evening. 

Before you could properly prepare yourself, her tongue was pressed against you. She moaned, the vibrations hitting you perfectly as you tried not to roll your hips. 

Wanda liked it when you were still, or at least attempting to be still. She’d spent weeks training you, edging you for each movement you made while she slowly traced your clit with a single finger. You knew better than to move your hips while she was pleasuring you. 

But holy fuck did it feel good. 

It was almost enough for you to forget yourself, and forget all the training that Wanda had drilled into you. But you refrained, wanting to be as good as possible for her. After all, bad girls didn’t get to cum. 

You wanted to cum. Very, very badly. 

Wanda began flicking her tongue against your clit, the deep ache within you rising like a wildfire. The flames of your orgasm licked at your skin, and you let out a long moan that was supposed to be a plea. You felt her chuckle against you, her fingers digging into your hips as she buried her face deeper against your swollen pussy. 

Certain that you would find bruises all over your hips the next morning, you experimentally shifted your weight. The steady pressure of Wanda’s tongue against your protruding clit stopped, and you choked down the complaint that threatened to escape you. 

“Why did you move, sweetheart?” Wanda’s eyes gazed imploringly at you, but you wouldn’t fall for it. Her tone was sugary sweet, but you sensed a trap. “Didn’t mommy teach you better?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You winced at how breathy you sounded. It was pathetic, but Wanda’s fingers relaxed slightly from their tight grip on your hips, so you continued. “I forgot myself, you just make me feel too good, mommy. You’re very talented with your tongue, please do it some more.”

You felt like it was a bit overboard, but Wanda seemed satisfied and you were willing to do almost anything to cum. Strong fingers twitched against you, and you stiffened as you realized that Wanda was still in your thoughts. 

‘Emphasis on the word almost.’

A small smirk worked its way onto Wanda’s face, even though you couldn’t see it, but you felt it against you as she began sloppily making out with your glistening pussy. Her tongue slipped roughly against your clit as your juices coated her chin. You were like a drug to her, your taste both invigorating and addicting at the same time. 

Wanda couldn’t get enough. She could stay between your thighs for hours, reading your body language with each new stroke of her tongue, the sounds of your sighs and whispered moans wrapping around her head and pulling her headfirst into the very essence of you. 

It took everything in her to pull away from you, the tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm too overwhelming to ignore. Besides, she wanted to play with you for a little while. Also, you were adorable when you panted and tried not to squirm, chasing the last few droplets of pleasure she could draw from you before pulling fully away. 

“Mommy, please…” Your voice was whiny, and it only took a millisecond before you realized your mistake. 

“Good girls don’t complain,” Wanda summoned something, a piece of fabric that you couldn’t quite make out. Her eyes bore into yours as she continued, “Mommy doesn’t want to hear that, and you know better. Haven’t I been good to you? Aren’t I making you feel good? Soon, darling.”

Before you could say anything, the fabric she was holding was stuffed into your open mouth. Letting out a soft grunt as you readjusted your jaw, you stifled a moan as the taste of Wanda’s arousal hit your tongue. 

Pulling off the beautiful form fitting dress she wore, Wanda smirked as you realized what piece of clothing she’d summoned. She felt a wave of possessiveness enter your mind as you eagerly sucked on her ruined panties, your thoughts swirling at the knowledge that you had made her this wet. 

Pulling your ankles up, Wanda slipped between the spreader bar and your body, letting the backs of your thighs rest atop her own as she kneeled before you. Her hand drifted, teasing fingers tracing your hip bone as she admired the glistening heat between your legs. 

Letting her gaze travel over your body, she admired every inch of your skin as she made her way towards your face. Wanda knew that she would never get tired of looking at you, her eyes eagerly taking in every curve and contour of your body, mapping out different paths as you flushed beneath her. 

Green eyes finally met yours, and you saw her smile. Her fingers brushed over your mound, grazing your clit and collecting some of the wetness pooling between your thighs. A single finger traced your slit, teasing you as she chuckled. 

“Did you want something?” 

You let out a huff of air through your nose, tilting your head as you stared at her. Taking a chance, you let your hips move slightly. It was just enough to wordlessly plead with her, begging her to soothe the ache between your legs. 

A single finger entered you in one thrust, burying itself knuckle deep in your pussy, and you nearly sobbed in relief. You let out a long moan, letting Wanda know just how pleased you were, and missed the smirk that flashed across her face. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back as she began to move at a steady pace, curling her finger every so often and grazing that spot inside you that sent bolts of pleasure coursing through you. 

It was just enough, the perfect pace to sate the hunger that had been slowly building within you. 

The thrusts increased, Wanda adding a second finger as she watched your face contort around the makeshift gag. The pleasure changed, becoming overwhelming as your orgasm attempted to rise. You knew by now that Wanda wasn’t going to let you cum just yet, and despaired at the thought of being brought to the edge again. 

“Mnnfh, plmh mmhmm.” Your attempt at words turned into a groan, and Wanda let out a low hum. Her other hand reached up, wrapping around your throat loosely as she curled her fingers inside of you. 

“Soon, darling.”

The pleasure just kept building, your clit throbbing as it begged for attention. If she would just touch it, anything would help you fall over the edge. It took everything in you to not roll your hips, any attempt at repositioning so Wanda’s hand would go where you wanted would be met with a complete absence of touch. 

Pleased at your self restraint, Wanda gave a few more deep thrusts before removing her fingers completely. Before you could whine, or even process her movement, she tore her panties from your parted lips, shoving her fingers onto your waiting tongue as she bent down. 

The taste of your own arousal hit you, mixing pleasantly with the aftertaste of Wanda’s juices. Then, you felt a tongue licking gently at your aching pussy, collecting as much of your arousal as it could. You felt her tease your clit, circling it softly, and lamented at the lack of pressure. 

Wanda worked you up again, her fingers slowly moving in and out of your mouth as your tongue swirled around them. It was an effective gag, small moans escaping you as her tongue steadily applied more pressure. Your orgasm reappeared, and you desperately wished that you could close your legs around Wanda’s head. Anything to keep her where you needed her most. 

Almost as if she was reading your mind (oh, wait), Wanda pulled away. Pleasure coursed through you, fading quickly as the stimulation ended, and you let out a whimper. 

“Color?” Wanda asked, her voice soft as her fingers twisted again. A vibrator floated into her grasp, your eyes tracking it as you uttered a muffled ‘green’. You recognized that toy, it was one of Wanda’s favorites. The settings were adjustable using a knob, so she could set it at any intensity she wanted. 

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asked, pulling her fingers from you briefly to let you respond. You opened your mouth, the pleas about to spill out, when the vibrator was placed directly against your clit. 

Jolting, you breathed heavily, and Wanda just raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t even turned the toy on yet, but just the smallest amount of pressure against your throbbing clit was sending you headfirst into subspace. 

“Yes, please.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, the only thing in your fuzzy mind was the thought of finally falling over that edge. The one she’d kept you on for hours. The one that would rack your body with pleasure, the edge that only your girlfriend could help you fall over. 

The vibrator clicked on, and you felt your legs start to shake. Wanda’s hand held the toy firmly against your clit, her other gently rolling your nipple between her fingers. You recognized the setting as relatively low, but it still sent pleasure shooting through what seemed like every nerve in your body. 

“Would you like to try something, darling?” Wanda asked, and you struggled to try and respond. She continued, “We talked about it earlier this week, remember the package we ordered?”

Your eyes lit up in recognition, a feeble nod the only thing you could manage. You remembered the soft red collar and leash that you both had liked, but hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. 

“Call it an early Christmas gift.” Wanda’s voice was soft, full of caring as she watched your reaction. 

“I want to try it,” You said, your voice as strong as you could make it. Wanda’s eyes lit up, crinkling at the edges as she smiled widely at you. Evidently, she thought that the perfect response was cranking up the vibrations against your clit. 

You shuddered beneath her, hands grasping uselessly at the magical restraints as the pleasure became overwhelming. You were mere seconds away from your orgasm, you could feel the beginning stages of it creeping up on you as your muscles went rigid. 

Wanda pulled away, and your clit protested by pulsing rapidly. She paid you no mind, letting you thrust your hips feebly as she summoned a few more items. They all moved to rest neatly on the bed, and Wanda held up the red collar. 

Her touch was almost reverent, stroking the soft leather and ensuring that it wouldn’t bite into your sensitive skin. Your eyes locked on it, watching as she brought it closer to your neck. Nodding your consent, you felt your heart race wildly as she fastened it securely. 

Two fingers curled around the leather, sticking themselves between the collar and your skin to ensure it wasn’t too tight. Tugging experimentally, Wanda’s eyes snapped to yours when you let out a moan. 

“That felt really good.” You breathed out, pupils blown as Wanda gave it another tug. This one was more forceful, and you felt your clit throb as more of your arousal leaked onto the mattress. 

The smile on Wanda’s face should have scared you, it was dark and wide. Ideas and fantasies swirled behind her green irises, but the only thing you felt was excitement. And extreme arousal, but what’s new?

Metal clinked, and you watched in anticipation as Wanda clipped the leash to the gold loop attached to the front of the collar. She wrapped the leash around her hand, once and then twice. 

“Fuck.” You almost didn’t realize that you had spoken, the word slipping out as Wanda gave the harshest tug yet. 

A scene of Wanda tugging the leash while fucking you from behind flashed behind your eyelids as you took some steadying breaths. You longed to feel the collar pressing against your throat, whenever Wanda would use her hand to choke you, it always made your orgasm much more powerful. It really heightened all of the sensations you felt, and you couldn’t wait to use the collar more often.  

“Would you like to try that, darling?” Wanda’s voice filtered through your thoughts, and you flushed as you remembered her presence in your mind. 

“Yes, please.” You sounded eager, your eyes bright as Wanda chuckled and twisted her fingers once again. 

After some maneuvering, you were on your front. Your hands were still securely attached to the headboard by unrelenting wisps of scarlet magic. Wanda urged you to your knees, the spreader bar making it impossible to close your legs. 

Something pressed against you from behind, and you immediately remembered the strap-on that Wanda had brought over. Either she had already lubed up, or you were soaked, because she slid the entire length of the toy into you in one stroke. 

A moan escaped you, muffled by the pillow you pressed your face into at the feeling of her strap fully inside you. It was everything you’d been waiting for, your walls clinging to the toy as she began snapping her hips. Fucking into you, Wanda experimentally tugged on the leash, and your head rose unwillingly from the pillow. 

“Oh,” She said, her voice raspy as she tugged again. A strangled whimper sounded out, a gush of wetness hitting her thighs as she easily slid in and out of your slick pussy. “I like this collar on you very much.”

“This was a great idea,” You agreed, all your senses heightened as she choked you from behind. 

With white knuckles, Wanda pulled on the leash as hard as she dared, not wanting to go too far during your first time using the collar. Using it as leverage, she angled her hips, thrusting deeper inside you, the toy hitting your g-spot perfectly. 

Your orgasm builds once more, pleasure spreading from your over-used pussy to the rest of your trembling body. Words left your mouth, but you couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. It was most likely broken pleas and moans, a desperate attempt at convincing Wanda to let you cum. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to cum without her permission, or even without her helping fall over the edge. Sure, you’d tried masturbating, even though it was explicitly against her rules. However, you weren’t able to make yourself cum, not after your body had gotten used to Wanda’s touch. 

“Please, mommy. Please let me cum. I’ve… fuck. I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? I really want to cum, I can’t take it anymore. Please, no more edging.” Your voice gave out quickly, moans replacing your words as Wanda seemed to fuck you harder. 

“Fuck,” Wanda grunted, tugging the leash again. “You have been good for me, darling. And because you begged so prettily for me, I’ll let you cum.”

Her next words were muttered right in your ear. “You can cum as many times as you want.” She placed a harsh kiss against your neck, most definitely leaving a bruise that would last for days. Then, she kneeled up straight, her hips snapping steadily as the strap forced every drop of pleasure out from your aching pussy. 

“Cum.”

Almost as if your body had been waiting for that command, your orgasm washed over you. It was unrepentant, waves of pleasure racking your body as you all but collapsed. Wanda’s firm hold on your leash kept you from suffocating yourself in the pillows, the sensation of being choked only heightening your orgasm. Everything felt more vivid, Wanda’s fingernails digging into your hip, her strap slamming into your gushing pussy, your nipples dragging along the silky fabric beneath you with each thrust. 

Wanda’s hold on the leash slackened, and you sucked in deep breaths as blood rushed to your head. Your orgasm kept dragging on, the constant stimulation from the strap-on triggering a second one. 

The hum of a vibrator sounded out, and you half whimpered and half moaned. Your clit throbbed, and you wanted to scream. Wanda placed the vibrator against it, the sensitive nub having emerged from its hood a long time ago. 

White stars filled your vision, your limbs turning to jelly as a third, powerful orgasm ripped through you. The waves of pleasure quickly turned painful, Wanda’s hips not slowing for a second as she twisted the knob higher on the vibrator. 

You came again. 

And again. 

Pain and pleasure melded together. The only thing you could sense was Wanda’s presence, everything else fading as she forced your body to cum again. Her hand tugging your leash, her collar wrapped tightly around your neck. Her skin, slapping against yours as she forced the strap deeper. 

Her voice, sounding out. Her words, not registering as you came again. Her hand, twisting your face towards her as your vision started to darken. Her eyebrows, threaded together. 

Her eyes, that lovely shade of green, forever ingrained in your mind. 

And then, nothing.

—-

“Darling, I need you to wake up. Please.” 

A cool hand was stroking your cheek, shaking as it wiped away tears that you hadn’t realized you’d shed. Warm breath hit your lips as Wanda sighed in relief, your eyes fluttering open. 

Everything was blurry, but your lips still turned upwards. Smiling goofily up at Wanda, you attempted to move. Your limbs felt like lead, your muscles sore as you twisted a strand of her auburn hair between your fingers. 

“I was so worried,” Wanda began, but you shushed her. 

“Don’t,” Your voice was hoarse, and you cleared your throat. “I enjoyed every second of that, Wanda. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

Wanda’s voice wobbled, her eyes concerned as she moved to lay down next to you. You threw your leg over her hip somewhat clumsily, still feeling as though your limbs were deadweight. Tucking your face into the crook of her neck, you inhaled deeply, letting her vanilla scent wash over you. 

“I’m absolutely positive,” You reassured her, already feeling your eyes closing again. “Now let’s just cuddle for a bit, and then you can order us food while I get the shower ready in, um, about an hour.”

And with that, you promptly fell asleep. 

Wanda smiled, stroking your hair as you curled around her. Honestly, how did she get so lucky? She thought about the ring sitting hidden in her office desk drawer, and felt a wave of love overtake her as you pulled her closer in your sleep. 

She just had to wait until after the holidays. Soon, you would be her wife. Wanda couldn’t wait for that day to come. 

Soon.

—-

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine 

[winterwandersland]

The Box Pt. 2 (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader Pt. 1 Here cw: smut, squirting, dom/sub vibes, sex toys, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, choking word count: 2k Reader faces her punishment for lying. First time writing smut. Be easy on me.

You saw the change in his eyes and your heart dropped. You knew not to lie, but you did it anyway for your own comfort and appeasement.

You kept talking, continuing as if all was well, him just replying with “mhm”. You knew it wasn’t. You knew that he knew it wasn’t.

He tricked you. Well, the branch tricked you. He figured it out. You lied. Four times, for that matter.

He looked you in your eyes. Not a smile in sight, his thumb no longer massaging your neck and his grip subtly tightening.

“Go get the box,” he commanded.

Fuck. Not the box.

“I can explain,” you pleaded.

“Try me,” he said. You didn’t know whether that meant you could go on with your explanation that you didn’t actually have or he would punish you more for not going to get the box the first time he told you to.

You use it as an opportunity to conjure up a response. Hopefully, one that’ll make him change his mind. Because, quite frankly, you were not at all prepared for anything he may do with any of the items from the box.

Lying was a major offense. But it was just for shits and giggles. Surely, he’d understand.

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. I like when you touch me,” you explained, your eyes wide and doe, trying to earn his sympathy.

“You like spending time with me?” he asked, more like a statement rather than a question. “And you like when I touch you?” he asked, using the same tone, keeping the same grip around your neck. He sounded like he was contemplating changing his mind.

You nodded your head slowly in response.

It really was an innocent act. You don’t normally get to spend this much time with him. He could get called into work at any point in time.

Hell. He could get called into right now. Which would work great to your benefit because that meant that you didn’t have to face the wrath of the box.

Actually. yeah.

Let’s hope he gets called into work.

Actually, no. You don’t mean it. You’d rather face the box and have him hold you down and torture your pussy for hours before leaving for another few months.

He looked at you, analyzing the plea in your eyes and the small pout on your face that you didn’t even notice was there. According to him, you subconsciously do it when you are trying to get out of something. It used to work, but it hasn't recently. Let's hope that it will today.

He scanned over your body, his free hand finding its way to your waist. His hand trailed lower and lower until it found its way to the band of your panties.

Your body shivered as he slid his calloused and rough hand past, making contact with your folds, all as he kept eye contact with you. Any time you tried to look away, embarrassed by what he’d find on his inspection, he quickly turned your head back to face him.

His hand trailed lower until he found what he’d been looking for, his middle two digits finding the pool of slick that was building up in your panties.

You didn’t think it would be that much, but when he brought his fingers up to your mouth and forced you to open, you realized you were wrong.

He removed his fingers from your mouth and used the hand that was once a collar to cup your face, his thumb on one cheek and his remaining fingers on the other. With the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his glare, you know the slick was pooling more with each millisecond that passed. He sat you up, making you get on your knees in between his legs.

He tilted your head to the side, slowly turning it to face the other way as he kissed down your neck. You couldn’t help but to let out the smallest moan. His lips soft against your skin and the warmth of his tongue just made you wish he would put it in other places.

But then suddenly, he stopped, and you felt his breath against your ear.

“Go. Get. The box,” he commanded, though his voice was much more brute.

And to no surprise, he hadn’t turned your head for easy access to your neck. It was to face the location of the box that sat in the back of the closet that you had been facing as you were enjoying his mouth on your neck.

Fuck, you thought.

He had practically thrown you off of him, giving you no choice but to obey his demands.

You walked as slowly as you could, trying to distract yourself from what’s to come. Or in better words, from who’s to come.

“Every second you waste is another minute added to your time,” he said from behind you.

Damnit. He had a time prepared. Even worse.

He knew all of your antics. It didn't matter what you did or what you said. He would always catch on.

You scrambled through the closet to uncover the infamous box. It wasn’t anything special. It was just a brown box that held every sex toy that Simon loved to torture you with.

And you couldn’t bank on any of them dying, while he tortured you because he always kept them charged.

The minimum time with a device: two hours.

He’s done it before. Using a device on you until it died. You were just about to come, and then the vibrations got lighter and lighter until they were no more. You whined, but best believe Simon had something else for you.

You shamefully walked the box to him and put it on the bed. Maybe he was feeling nice and would let you choose.

Wrong.

He pulled you onto the bed and immediately instructed you to remove all of your clothing.

It didn’t take long as you only had on a large t-shirt and your panties.

He watched as you removed your panties, the strands of slick elongating as you pulled them down.

“Give them to me,” he commanded, holding his hand out.

You did as you were told and now you were over him, fully naked, with your wetness practically dripping down your thigh. He admired you in all your glory, and he couldn’t wait to watch you squirm and plead as he tortured you.

You went to him, straddled over his thigh and your head on his shoulder, a tear about to slide down your face.

The last time you lied, your pussy was sore for two days.

He slowly trailed his hand up and down your spine. He could feel your puddle of slick through his pants. His other hand opened the box, rummaging through its contents.

The more he dug, the closer you came to sobbing.

And you did once he pulled out the first device.

The wand.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. But it wasn’t enough. He continued to rummage through as your tears fell onto his shoulder. He couldn’t care less. You were only apologizing because you got caught. And now you had to pay.

Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.

You should’ve learned your lesson the first time.

He pulled out the bar that kept your legs spread apart, something he got after you kept closing your legs before. Then, he pulled out the ropes. What he would do with them, you wouldn’t know. And lastly, he pulled out the homemade makeshift thigh holster, used to keep whatever device perfectly planted on your clit no matter how much you moved.

In combination with the bar, you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was the wand.

He gathered everything and put them in the pile beside himself. He tended to you for the last time before his wrath began.

“Don’t cry,” he said, wiping away your tears. His voice was tender. Comforting. it was possible he would be more gentle with you than you thought.

“If you hadn’t lied, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” he antagonized, placing a kiss on your cheek that perfectly coated his lips with your salty tears.

He pried you off of his leg and arm and laid you in front of him. There was nothing you could do now other than to comply. That way, he’ll see you’re being a good girl and maybe end his torture early.

You sniffled as he locked your legs in place with the bar, your ankles perfectly placed in the straps.

“Give me your arms,” he calmly demanded. and you obeyed.

He tied the rope to the bar and then to your arms. The more you struggled, the more your pussy was exposed. And last but not least, the thigh holster, accompanied by its friend. The wand that you dreaded. You wouldn’t even use it while he was away. It was too powerful. You couldn’t last two minutes with coming and the overstimulation was too much to bear.

He angled the wand perfectly on your clit, making you squirm around. You tried to get away or at least move it so it wouldn’t be as torturous, but you couldn’t, making you softly whine.

All this and he still has your panties in his hand. You thought he would have thrown them on the ground with your t-shirt by now.

He gently trailed his thumb up and down your folds for a little before he got up from the bed, licking your slick from his thumb.

He turned your body and pulled it to face the edge of the bed. You worried if you moved too much, you might fall off, but Simon wouldn’t let that happen. He’d ram his dick into you to send you jolting back before he let you hit the ground.

He admired the view of your pussy before he came beside you, sitting on the bed and gently stroking your cheek.

“Simon, I said I’m sorry,” you pleaded. But he still didn’t care. You were already tied up. There was no way out.

“What are your colors?” he proceeded to ask, disregarding everything you had just said.

“Red. Yellow. Green,” you said, hoping the eye contact would make him loosen up a bit. Or maybe the tear that slid down the side of your face would do it.

It didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and quickly stuffing your panties in your mouth, forbidding you from speaking. More tears rolled down the sides of your face. The flashbacks were coming in all too well.

“I love you,” he told you, before he set the wand to the highest setting it could go, already having you arch your back, squirming around to try to run away from it.

Your efforts were of no use. There was no running from this. He watched as your pussy cried with you, streams flooding onto the bedsheets.

He ran his fingers through your folds, sometimes sending them into your hole, preparing it for what was to come next. It just added to the stimulation, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. It had only been two and a half minutes and you had already come.

Simon was silent as he watched you struggle. He loved seeing you try to run away. Your hands reaching for the wand to pull it away, but you simply couldn’t reach. He just played with your pussy as the wand worked its magic on your clit.

To stretch you out more, he took out the dildos, smallest to largest, the smallest still being enough for you to whine and arch your back in pleasure.

Every time you came, he changed the size of the dildo that was inserted into you. It had been ten minutes, and you were only on dildo two out of seven. After seven, you had to face the final boss.

Simon.

Little did you know, he would cycle through the dildos until your squirt made a puddle on the floor, edging and overstimulating you at the same time.

Then you’d be ready to take his dick.

Pt. 3

[lundenloves]

BABY’S FIRST WORDS

〔 a fluff piece brought to you by yours truly. domesticity at its finest, featuring the rarity of simon joking and we even observe a rare laugh from him. not without his usual cluelessness and blunt nature though. king! 〕

˗ˏˋ i honestly love him just existing as a dad. learn as you go type stuff, his daughter latching onto him when he wanted it least must’ve done him good. our emotionally stunted husband — someone give this man a hug and tell him he’s alr.

⇀ 1k | no warnings

dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info | taglist

Of course. Of course it had happened the only ten minutes of the day you had left her — barely managing one foot in the shower before Simon had opened the door with your daughter in his hands. Not arms, but hands. “She spoke.” He provided lamely, holding her out to you as if she contained a transferable illness. 

You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your dry body before taking her from him, the smile she made was adoring. “She what.” Brows pung upward, your brief frown at his interruption loosening into a warmth while peppering kisses all across her cheeks. “She—“ 

“She said my name.” 

“She said Simon?” You retorted and he scoffed, taking a step backward to the door, forearm leant on the threshold. “Dad?” She reached for your hair, small fingers pulling on it with a smile when you had begun bouncing her from side to side. 

Simon shifted. “Bit like,” His words were lost for a baby laugh, one that echoed against the bathroom walls. Your hand was against your mouth in milliseconds, finding obvious tears welling in your eyes. 

“What the fuck.” You mouthed, smoothing the hair on her head and Simon raised his brows in acknowledgment of your reaction, the faintest of smiles tugging at the side of his lip. “Sorry, what did she say?” You let a breathy laugh go, one that emphasised your emotionality. 

His eyes switched between you and his daughter, leaning his full weight against the door now. “Da.”

You tilted your head at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel whole?” The baby in your arms began flailing her arms in your hold, reaching for her father as if on cue. 

Simon shrugged, pushing off from the door to close the distance between you and allowing her to poke at his tattoo. “Didn’t think much of it.” He admitted, his eyes landing on yours that had narrowed ever so slightly with an understanding nod. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He bit at the skin on his top lip, acutely aware of the flaring of your nostrils. A list of potential worries flurrying your mind, ones you would all deem as irrational though Simon probably wouldn’t. It was valid to worry about his reactions. 

His immediate reaction to your daughters first laugh was, “Oh, shit.” The noise being between a baby coo and giggle combined into something that would’ve burst your chest yet only poked at his. He held her outward, stretched forearms while her small feet kicked in the air. 

Then came her first word, one of demand, a strong “Da!” One Simon had told himself meant dad, though it was more likely a protesting noise to be put down. Whatever the noise meant, he granted her outstretched hands, placing her back down onto his knee and bouncing it up and down gently. 

By no means did Simon Riley know what to do with a baby, he was still learning, very slowly — but surely. “What was that?” He mumbled at her, his eyes boring into hers as if she were an adult who could understand his demanding stare. “Tell dad, eh? Say it again.”

To clarify the noise wasn’t made in anger. 

Instead, she grabbed at his shoulder, bunching up the material of his shirt loosely. “Or that.” He muttered, diverting his attention along with her own to Blue Planet that had been on pause for ten minutes since you had left. 

He tapped his fingers in quick succession of the one before, the sofa armrest now becoming a point of interest for the baby who had watched his hand move. Though, right before she could hike off his thigh, he had then decided to take her through to you. You know, just to let you know your daughter had just spoken her first word (noise) alongside a laugh. 

“Did she say anything else?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen to his forehead only for it to drop back down. 

“Yeah.” He said bluntly, taking her from your hold and looking down to her. “Quantum physics,” 

A pause for your sigh. “Explained it all.” 

You nudged his shoulder, turning to check the shower temperature. “Go put her down. She’s due a sleep.” Your back was to the man, though his expression was easily imagined. “No, I can’t do it.”

Oftentimes, Simon zoned out when doing anything with the baby. It was something he took through future years too, future kids and all ages, arguments at breakfast? Zoned out. Walking with him? Not there. Even talking to him? Meh. 

He put the baby down in a trance, standing over the cot silently praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would continue her peace. That no cries would break and his headache would remain in its rest, taking slow steps backward when she had shut her eyes. 

“Can't believe she spoke to you.” You had said later that night, leant against a barstool watching Simon cut up an onion in that one way you just couldn’t master. “And not me, that is.” 

“I have a charm.” He pointed the knife on its end, spinning it on the cutting board before eyeing you. “Obviously.”

“A silent-threatening-mediocre type of charm.”

He shrugged, sliding the annoyingly perfect dicing into a pan. “First laugh too.” It was a mumble designed to entice a reaction, and that it did, your arm barging against his after hearing your baby cry on cue. 

“I’ll get something from her yet.” You picked up washing from the bottom stair, beginning up the stairs to go and pacify. 

“Only got the rest of your life!” He shouted for you to hear, gaining an earnest roll of your eyes. 

“I prefer you when you’re quiet.” You spoke aloud, just enough to gain a laugh from him, one you imagined he had let go without permission while aggressively preparing another onion. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123

unedited as usual. gonna go over my dad!simon masterlist this week. reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!

[jasontoddsdarling]

perihelion

— pairing: red hood x female reader

— words: 2,9k

— tags: smut 18+, naked female clothed male, cunnilingus (jason is a pussy eater and i meant it here), size differences*, size kink, rough sex, vaginal sex, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie, fluff at the end

*❗content warning: repeated (and i meant repeated) descriptions about their size differences, so proceed with caution! it's going to be excessive lol so if it's not your cup of tea you can skip this one :)

"Red." 

She whimpers pathetically, eyes blurry with unshed tears as she looks down at the man situated in between her wide open thighs.

Red Hood's tongue delves into her pussy, eating her out like a man starving. Maybe he is. Because it's been… what? Thirty minutes? And he hasn't stopped. Not even for stretching his massive body or something. Not for one second, even.

His lips keep making out with her cunt. 

She's overly sensitive. 

But by hearing her mewling his name it spurs him on, for he's sucking her clit hard with a low groan.

Her hips shot high. She will probably reach the ceiling of her room if Red Hood's hands on her hips aren't holding her down.

"Red! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

She sobs, orgasm wrecking her body like a ship against gigantic waves. Tears falling down her face in rivulets, dampening her soft pink pillowcase.

She can hear Red Hood shuffling now, by the sound of the fabric of her bedding against his clothes.

"You said you want to take my cock whole and not just half to three quarters," he says, voice hoarse, "I should prepare you thoroughly to make that possible. And multiple orgasms seem to prepare your tiny pretty pussy better indeed."

He proves his point by sweeping his fingers around her pussy opening, gathering her arousal.

"Look at this."

He's showing his shiny fingers to her. 

"Look at you gushing for me. All for me, isn't that true, princess?"

"Yes, Red. All for you."

Red Hood smiles, eyes glittering with wickedness and blown wide with lust behind his mask.

Red Hood quickly works, removing his belt and thigh holsters and dragging his trousers and briefs down above his knees.

He positions his leaking fat cock on her entrance, moving it up and down that at some point the angry red tip catches inside her.

She jerks at that, letting out a gasp. Her body always seems to forget how big he is compared to her.

Red Hood doesn't seem to notice because now he's placing his cock on her entire mound, his tip rests right above her navel. She shudders at the image both of them create. 

He is so massive. It should make her feel wary or something, she thinks, but she just feels that she's being taken care of and protected by this masked vigilante. A man that's capable of eradicating crime without mercy in Gotham streets is also able to worship her body and make her feel safe whenever she's with him, making her feel so wanted.

See, her thoughts have wandered into deeper territory she doesn't wish to visit—at least not right now anyway, when the man above her is about to be balls deep inside of her.

She directs her mind to the present.

Red Hood rubs his cock on her pussy, slathering the underside with her arousal from the orgasms he has drawn from her. 

"I'm not doing my job well if you're able to leave me alone and busy with your thoughts."

"Huh?"

She doesn't think Red Hood realizes that, she's pretty sure she was just lost in her mind for some milliseconds.

Red Hood removes himself from the top of her. She is about to protest but he swiftly sits on his haunches and pumps his cock with his precum and the wet underside of his cock from her arousal, slathering the moistures all over his cock.

Before knowing it, he has positioned himself back above her body.

She knows if hypothetically there's a mirror on her ceiling, she's only able to see his broad shoulders and toned body on the reflection—maybe her thighs if she opened them wide but that's it—because this massive man just simply covers her smaller torso with his. And she likes it more than she ever should.

Red Hood eases his tip inside of her and she feels the relief of having a part of him in her.

She closes her eyes as he keeps feeding her pussy with his cock. 

She can feel the slight pleasant ache that indicates he's working himself deep inside of her. He's probably almost all in now, she thinks.

But when she opens her eyes he's only about halfway inside.

Red Hood's expression indicates that he's holding back, pleasure written all over his face. 

But he is nothing if not relentless, keep pushing hips and drawing back, trying to ease the process. He keeps stuffing her with the rest of his cock centimeter by centimeter.

When he's like four fifths inside her, he groans her name.

"Princess. You're–" he groans, "you're always so tight. But I think this is the tightest you've ever been." 

She preens at his dirty talk. 

"It's you that is so big, Red. Why are you so big, so so big."

Tears gathered in her eyes at the sensation of his fat cock almost fully nestled inside of her. She has never felt like this, so full and whole. And he hasn't even all the way in.

And it's true. He's very considerable, and definitely the biggest one she has ever taken. The first time they're doing this—it was two months after he was wounded in her fire escape and kept visiting her weekly since then, just hanging out and mindlessly talking with her after his patrol—Red Hood was only able to put one third of his cock inside of her because he was afraid he was going to break her, even though she was begging him to just put the rest of it inside. Afterwards he was making it up to her by eating her out until she couldn't feel her thighs because of how he was holding her down so she couldn't squirm away from his ministrations.

Red Hood growls in her ear, cupping her tit and harshly playing with her nipple.

"You're flattering me so much, my sun."

My sun. Her nickname from him after learning the meaning of her name. It makes her feel buzzing that has nothing to do with him currently working his cock to be buried deep inside of her body.

Red Hood swaps his fingers with his hot mouth, his teeth pulling at her peaked brown nipple. 

"Ah!"

Red Hood puts his forehead on hers.

His minty breath fanning her hair as he stuffs the rest of his cock while also keeps distracting her from the stretch by circling her areola with her tongue and sucking on her nipple and globe of tit—leaving hickeys, switching between right to left.

Until he accomplishes the thing that she has wanted since the first time they slept together: the entirety of his fat cock inside of her pussy.

"Redredredredoh."

She feels intense stretch and pleasure she has never felt before, feeling his cock stretch her and the length of it reach a part inside her no one has ever been able to go. 

She feels so incredibly full.

"That's it. It's all in. You take all of my cock. Your tiny cunt is able to swallow all of me."

Red Hood kisses the rivulets that sliding down her cheek away, licking them clean.

She squeezes her inner muscles at the praises and the gesture and he groans, deep rumbles of sound from his chest.

She can feel every ridge of his cock, his veins rubbing deliciously against her walls. 

She has to bite her lips to contain her mewls.

"We're a tight fit. You're so good for me, so perfect."

She moans at his praises. 

Curious, she looks down at the part where they're joined.

A tiny gasp leaves her at the sight. 

Her lower stomach has a bulge from his cock residing inside.

Red Hood touches the indentation on her lower stomach, pressing on where his cock is nestled deep in her. 

"Look where I am inside of you."

He says as he keeps the pressure on her skin.

"You're–you're so deep."

She breathes out, seeing the proof of how different their bodies are—how big, how massive he is compared to her regular size, sending minds into so many directions.

He caresses the bump with his hand like it's the first time he has ever witnessed this. 

"It's the first time I have ever left something like this."

He says as if he knows what she's thinking about. 

"You're so beautiful like this."

She whimpers, her blown wide dark brown eyes seeing his beautiful rugged face above her. Even though he's always with his mask, his beauty has never been able to be obscured by it.

Red Hood kisses her deep, his mask digging on her face. His arms beside her head are strained, holding his body from crushing her smaller one.

His kiss is bruising, his teeth scraping against her upper and lower lips equally. He swipes his tongue, demanding an entrance to her mouth that she immediately grants. His tongue swipes hers, their saliva strings connected and messy between their lips.

Red Hood starts to move his hips, drawing his cock in and out of her in an experimental thrust, his fingers rubbing on her engorged clit. She lets out a pleasurable sigh.

Seeing her body has adjusted to the feel of his entire length intruding her slick walls, he repeats the motion much quicker and she screams at how her throbbing pussy being speared over and over again by his thick cock, always managed to be balls deep and bottoming out inside of her tight cunt everytime.

Her hand tugs on the silky strands of his dark hair.

"You're created for me, made for taking my cock nice and whole."

Red Hood says each word in between each of his deep thrusts. He grunts on her ears, the sounds making her cunt gushing. 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head by the carnal pleasure of his heavy thrusts and his dirty praises. 

She sobs on his shoulder, long black hair wildly fanning on her soft pink pillow and her bed.

But instead of telling him to slow down, she tells him, "Harder, please. Give your all."

Red Hood always obliges her, she doesn't have to ask him twice. That's what he wants as well, but he wanted to build up the pleasure. But her asking him to do so without his initiative, it just spurs him on.

He plows her cunt roughly, the drags of his thick cock and its ridges sets her nerves on fire. She accepts the pleasure borderline on oversensitivity gladly. She takes them all like a champ. Partly because it's a hassle to thrust up her hips against his powerful one but also because she wants this, badly. 

Beads of his sweats rolling down his cheeks, dropping on his light stubble and dropping on her tits. He swipes it away, fondling her tits and squeezing them. He pinches the erect peak and then closes his mouth on one of them, biting it hard. She cries, an orgasm tearing out of her by him, again for the nth time tonight.

"Red, you're so big, so deep. So deep." 

She babbles the only words she can only think of at this time. 

Her mind is completely blank with the way his cock keeps making space inside of her deeper and deeper as if it's still possible. 

"So big, oh God. Big. So thick… my tiny cunt." 

She looks like she's delirious with the height he brings her, the words that will make her hide her face with her hands if she ever remembers she ever speaks of them. 

His chest rumbles at her mindless dirty praises to him, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, his sacks drawn tighter, preparing to blow his massive loads. 

If she keeps praising him like this with the cute and ethereal blissed out face of hers, messy but glowing black hair tangling on his fingers, and glistening skin of hers, he isn't sure he's able to hold on longer. He has been holding his orgasm since he was eating her out hours ago.

"Where do you want me, angel?"

Red Hood asks, grunting and panting above her. 

"Inside, please. Please cum inside of me, Red."

Red Hood growls at her consent and then draws his hips for the last time sending a deep, deep harsh thrust—that will send her head knocking against her headboard if he isn't currently clutching her hips to the point of bruising—until he's fully sheathed and bottoming out inside of her, the deepest he has been tonight, both of them sure—then losing himself in the height of his powerful climax.

A bodily shudder goes through her, her teary screams of pleasure are sure audible for her nearest neighbors.

Red Hood chants her name as his hot, thick white cum flows inside of her cunt, flooding her insides.

It's so much, too much. 

The streams of his hot cum is somehow a relief but also making her oversensitive. She doesn't think anyone is able to give that much of cum in one climax, but she thinks—as her mind cleared by her most powerful peak tonight—he must have been holding his orgasm since he ate her out hours ago. 

God knows if she were in his place—giving him blowjob multiple times until he climaxes—she wouldn't be able to hold hers and would probably orgasm alongside him with his cock deep in her throat. She shudders at her imaginative thought, not entirely against it—but Red Hood sure is, he likes the act of giving more than receiving.

She squirms because he hasn't stopped pumping his seed inside of her—balls still half drawn tight—but he shushes her and flicks her clit to calm her down from oversensitivity. 

She's just there, lying blissfully where the broad shouldered man above her cooing at her and praising her for doing so good for him and but she's in between wakefulness and sleep. She feels it when his cock sends the last spurts of his cum inside of her, but he doesn't move until he has softened in her, then carefully pulled out of her.

Red Hood is lying down beside her, hasn't drawn his pants and briefs up. 

He can feel the heavy stare of eyes in between her thighs, so she looks down on her body too.

Their combined fluids are a sticky white mess between her thighs, the blob of it peeking out from between her folds—not to mention the rest of his massive load inside of her cunt that probably will dribble down if she is as much as sitting down, she can't imagine if she tries to stand or walk, if she's able to in the first place, which she thinks she doesn't. 

The man beside her has wrecked her pussy with his cock and taken her ability to stand for at least until this morning, the feeling of it will definitely last for a week though.

As if senses that she needs to clean up but can't, he stands, drawing his pants and briefs up without zipping the former—probably for easy clean up—and walking to her bathroom. He's there for two minutes—she checks her bedside clock—and then comes back with his pants zipped up, hair much tidier, and a wet, warm soft towel on his hand.

He sits on the edge of the bed, cleaning the stickiness on her thighs and the white blob of cum that peeking out from her labia—the latter carefully because he knows she is overstimulated after everything—and then goes back to the bathroom to deposit it in her basket of dirty clothes.

When he's back again, she's slightly moving her body up—still laying down, though—holding her stuffed animal in her naked form in between the shallow valley of her tits, the sight making him smile. He sits at the side of the bed, drawing her blanket up until it covers her navel. 

He reaches for a bottle of water she has on her nightstand. Opening the cap, he offers it to her and because her head is only leveled up by her pillows at the back of her head and neck, some of it spills down her torso and slightly dampened her stuffie. 

"Pengu!"

"Pengu is okay, she's a penguin."

He retorts before drinking the rest of the water. 

She gives him her playful stink eyes, but says nothing and tries to rub the water with her blanket, even though it's obvious has been absorbed by the material of her stuffed animal.

She is still drying Pengu, so it surprises him when she asks, "Are you going to go, soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

He usually goes right after cleaning up, no hard feelings and anything.

But something is different in the air today, and he doesn't want to examine it further, but he knows he wants to stay here at least for some more hours.

"No."

She still hasn't looked at him, holding Pengu to her chest, so he pinches her chin up and kisses her.

"Okay, I will stay. Maybe until you sleep?"

She nods at him, her little smile is everything to him.

He lies down beside her, heads on the stack of her fluffy soft pink pillows that smells so her—peony and lychee scented perfume she wears—clothes intact and all, just without his belt and holster that are lying on her bedroom floor, but that's his problem for later. 

For now, he caresses her hair and holds his head close to his chest until she falls asleep.

mariea's notes: wow, you made it here! technically, this fic is crossposted from my ao3 account, i wrote it in september 2023. slightly modified. and i mind slight. you can head to my account (link on my pinned) if you're curious about the change i made lol. anyway thanks for reading <3

[lovebugism]

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy. 

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

[tinytennisskirt]

Hall Pass

Patrick Zweig x Art'sGirlfriend!Reader

Summary: Patrick has been wanting Art's girlfriend for too long. He's not proud of it. When you, Art, Tashi, and Patrick go to a frat party, Patrick finds himself in a compromising position alone with you and maybe... gives in.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation, slight blowjob, patrick going down, tipsy sex (consensual), yearning, cheating but it's not actually cheating...

Patrick hated wanting you. It was the worst part of his every day. Crossing paths with you, he hated every moment. Seeing you after your classes, he hated every second. Every millisecond he spent alone with you he hated with an incredible fiery passion and it was awful- because what he hated more than anything is what it would do to Art if he found out just how badly Patrick wanted his girlfriend.

It was Jessie’s Girl on the radio. Stupid fucking song, Patrick thought. You, Tashi, Art, and Patrick were sitting in your dorm room talking about tennis. Art had his arm around you, leaned up against the wall on the pink comforter of your elevated bed. Every now and then, Patrick noticed how you leaned your head toward Art and he would kiss your forehead in the sweetest of ways and it was just sickening.

Tashi snapped in Patrick’s face. “Earth to Patrick?” She said, gesturing in question. Patrick turned his head.

“Hm?”

“What did you think of Art’s backhand today?” She asked. Patrick looked at Art, then back at Tashi.

“It was fine, I mean he didn’t lunge enough on that first big one, but it was fine.” He half-assed a response. He looked at you, pretending to understand the conversation. You weren’t at Stanford for tennis, you were there for creative writing and Patrick knew just how disinterested and tired you must have been from being at the court all day and coming back just to talk about tennis. “Can we change the topic though, Tashi? We’re boring Y/N to death.” He gestured to you.

You chucked, “I’m fine, I’ll live.” You said. Art chuckled and apologized. You were sweet the way you smiled, the way your lips pulled back to reveal the prettiest teeth. Patrick fucking hated it. “I do have to ask if you guys heard about the party later?”

Everyone perked up, even Tashi, who was usually still stuck on the topic of tennis. “At the frat?” Art asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, small smile still there. “We could go to that if you guys aren’t tired. I know Patrick has been in need of an excuse to drink for ages now.” You referenced him and it took all he had not to explode. You made it so hard to breathe around Art, it practically suffocated him.

“Yeah, we can go,” Art said, sitting up. His arm removed itself from around you and Patrick hated his internal rejoice. “They start at like, nine right?”

Tashi stood up, “Nine. That’s in forty minutes, meaning we are kicking you both out and meeting you at Art’s dorm to pregame. You still have the giant vodka bottle right?”

“Under my bed,” Art grinned and stood up before kissing you goodbye. Patrick had to look away. “Sounds perfect. See you soon.”

Art pulled Patrick out of the room, leaving you and Tashi to get ready. The moment they were out of the room, both boys braced each other with excitement. Frat parties meant unbridled college drinking and quite possibly a cigarette or two as well as girls in minimal clothing. Patrick recalled the last time you all went to a party, you wore a t-shirt that looked a little too snug on you and when you were drunk you confessed to Patrick you bought it in the kids section of the thrift store. Patrick could not get the thought of you in the little shirt out of his mind for weeks after that.

“Tonight you can make a move on Tashi,” Art said, punching Patrick in the arm. It snapped him out of his trance once again. “Once the drinks get on, you know, make your move.”

“Not sure if I should yet,” You told him. Tashi was your front for liking you. It was simple- if you turned Patrick on in any way, he blamed Tashi if Art asked about it. If he blushed, if he did anything telltale, he blamed Tashi. So Art was sure Patrick was head over heels for her and not you. His cover. “I think I’d like it better if we were sober.” He reasoned. It was a fake reason.

“And let her hook up with some frat guy?”

“It’s college, she can do what she wants. It would mean more sober.” He did not care that much.

“Ah,” Art nodded. The two boys sat in Art’s room and tossed a stray tennis ball back and forth. Art spoke again, “Oh I didn’t tell you but Y/N and I had what was probably the greatest sex of my- hoping OUR lives last night. I’m telling you the ‘coconut’ thing is very real, all credit to her for it.”

Patrick felt nauseous, but the idea of it was enough to pull a pillow over his lap. “Damn, I think I read about that in a magazine. It’s that good?” He had to engage, unfortunately.

“Oh yeah,” Art nodded, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve never had a girl do that to me, it was crazy.”

The conversation went on and it was hard and Patrick was hard and overall it was just a shitty situation and Patrick hated it. He took the deepest breath to get through it. Eventually the conversation was over with a knock on the door. Art was fast to get it. Tashi was visible first.

“You guys didn’t even change,” she said.

Art shrugged, “Should we have?”

“Probably, the theme is traffic lights. You’re wearing green, buddy, that tells women you’re go to hookup.” She pointed at Art’s green shirt. Patrick peered to see if you were behind Tashi, but you weren’t. “Y/N is finishing her eyeliner she’ll be over in a second. You two, change.” Tashi said. She was wearing green, Patrick noticed before she shut the door. Art threw two red shirts on his bed from the dresser under it.

“You going green tonight?” He asked, taking off the shirt he was wearing and tossing it to Patrick.

“For sure,” Patrick grinned. Art took out the big bottle of vodka from under the bed and took a swig before pulling on a red polo shirt. Patrick pulled on Art’s green shirt and did up the buttons but not all the way. He handed Patrick the bottle and Patrick took a swig. Tasted awful with no mixer, Patrick knew you’d complain. He dug in his pockets for change and found he had enough for a bottle of Coke, which he’d get on the way there.

Art opened the door just as you approached Tashi and both of the girls walked in. Patrick’s eyes fell on you all too easily. You were wearing black, a black skirt, a square-neckline tank top. There was no red or green on you, but fuck, you looked gorgeous. Patrick noted your perfect eyeliner and the perfume you usually wore to parties and he hated the way it filled the room when you walked in.

“I don’t own any yellow,” you said, shrugging. Nobody batted an eye. You kissed Art, who was wearing the brightest of reds and Tashi grabbed ahold of the big vodka bottle and took her swig. Patrick didn’t say a word, but slipped out to the vending machine just down the hall, returning with a bottle of Coke which he knew you’d probably need now for a mixer. He put it right in your hands wordlessly, even when you said thank you.

Tashi wore a green tank too much like yours, but it didn’t look the same or as flattering. Patrick wondered if maybe he would turn Tashi into a real distraction, but even if he was drinking, would she really be worth it? He was wearing green, so he probably wouldn’t have to settle for Tashi, but at this point, looking at you in that skirt, that top, focusing on the small sliver of your waist that showed in the middle and the way your collarbones looked against the black of the shirt, he knew he would HAVE to find a distraction tonight. Especially if he was drinking heavily, which he did plan on doing.

You all decided to go around 9:40, just before girls had to pay to get in. Everyone had a decent buzz and you’d filled half of your coke bottle with vodka, so you were set. Patrick found it endearing you couldn’t drink vodka straight- kind of cute. Patrick tried to ignore how you and Art walked hand-in-hand. He took the big bottle and took another large swig.

The party was loud and pretty packed on both floors. Stuffy, too. You immediately dragged Tashi away to dance with you, a complete lightweight. Patrick decided to occupy himself by teaming up with Art at cup pong. The beer was flowing, the vodka was passed around and girls were asking Patrick to come with them downstairs, upstairs.

“I’m going to find Y/N!” Art yelled to Patrick over the music. Patrick nodded, being pulled one way by a redhead who looked nothing like you. Any distraction he could take, really. She kissed him but he hated it. She was sloppy, slobbery, and he made an excuse and walked away. He spotted you and Art, and even with the alcohol you’d had it was not easy to see how you kissed him. You were shorter than Art was, which meant you were shorter than Patrick and the kiss was strong and Patrick just couldn’t look away no matter how much it hurt to see. He hated it. Every second of it.

He turned away and shook his head, saving himself. And he walked up the stairs just for a better view of things. He opened doors to multiple people making out, but the room at the end was surprisingly empty. And Patrick entered and locked the door. He laid down on the bed on his back, the ceiling spinning and the music downstairs muffled but echoing around his head.

Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be so gorgeous? Fuck, it was stupid how into you Patrick was, so head over heels and dumb over you. A million girls at a party and all he could think about was you, just you, only you, all you. You and Art, kissing, touching, the details of the sex just spun around his head. It made him hard, he hated it, he hated how guilty it made him feel. He hated thinking about your perfect waist in that top, he hated thinking about your tits in that top, he hated thinking about what you’d look like without it. It was stupid. Patrick rubbed his eyes and swore at himself. “Fuck.” And tried to put you out of his head. He waited for the boner to die down before going back out to the party to hopefully find a distraction and keep it so that he kept away, but the second he opened the door, there you were. Outside of it. “Y/N,” he said.

“Patrick!” You greeted him. “I’ve been waiting for the bathroom for like ten minutes.”

You were drunk. Patrick peered back into the master bedroom he was in, “There’s one in here?” He suggested. You slipped past him in seconds, your scent wafting. He shut the door behind you. He waited until you came back out, guarding the door just in case.

“Thank you,” you said, fixing your skirt as you came out of the bathroom. “Have you seen Art, by any chance? He said he was going to play cup pong but I didn’t see him.”

“I haven’t,” Patrick answered, eyes lingering on your frame.

“That’s fine,” you nodded, walking over to Patrick. You stood in front of him, looking up. “Have you seen Tashi?” You asked. Patrick stepped back. “Okay, are you afraid of me, what’s that about?”

He didn’t think you’d notice. “I haven’t seen… Tashi and no, not afraid.” Patrick chuckled, even through the alcohol. He hardly had it in himself to laugh, he was going through every possibility right now. He hated that he was alone with you, he wanted you to leave, he actually was quite afraid at the moment.

“You stepped back,” you said. “Do I smell bad or something?"

“Not at all, you smell good,” Patrick spoke faster than he could think. “I’m just- maybe we should find Art.”

“Or we could just stay here and let him find us. It’s so much quieter in here.” You stepped toward him again and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You’re tall. I never noticed just how tall you are.” You told him. He almost laughed, he would have if you were anyone else. “What is your problem?” You asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing, nothing,” Patrick said. He hated how close you were to him. He hated how good you smelled, he hated how he was above you and could see you all too clearly. “Nothing is my… problem.” He swallowed hard. He had too much to drink for this.

“I’m surprised you’re in green,” you said, changing the topic again. Drunk you was all too believing, at least you wouldn’t catch on. “I thought maybe you’d have yellow because of things with Tashi. But Tashi is also in green.”

“Tashi isn’t my type,” Patrick let slip. You looked at him curiously- he hoped you wouldn’t remember. “And you’re in black, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I don’t own anything yellow,” you reminded him, stepping closer when Patrick took another step back. Patrick was about to start sweating even in the air conditioning of this one specific room. You looked at Patrick through your eyelashes and he fought all the blood in his body from moving downwards. He debated running, he debated leaping out the window, anything. He didn’t even want to meet your eyes. “Patrick.” You said his name and he was throbbing. He hated you, he hated this, he hated this room, this bed, this lighting, your stupid lack of yellow.

Yellow?

“You were going to wear yellow?”

“Mhm,” drunk you nodded. “I like red but it’s not me.”

“Yeah…” Patrick said. He stepped back and you stepped forward. He was truthfully very afraid of this version of you.

“Art likes red, he used to be green, but now he likes red. And I’ve never been a red kind of girl.” You continued. He stepped back, and you stepped forward. Patrick was a lot bigger than you, but he was being backed into a corner. “I like yellow a lot more.”

“Yeah but Art likes red, so there’s that and…you…” Patrick said with almost a panic to his voice. His heart beat fast in his chest, he couldn’t finish his sentence the way you were looking at him. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so confused.”

You grinned and put your hands on your hips, you were so gorgeous when you smiled like that. Patrick’s insides did a backflip. You shook your head, your perfect hair flowing. “Art is red, I am yellow. Art knows I’m yellow.” You said. Patrick shook his head. There was silence and you blinked hard before speaking in the flattest tone.

“Patrick, I know you want to fuck me.”

He went cold. His whole body went cold. He wondered if he was hearing things, he wondered if she really just called him out here, drunk, in a room alone. He must have been dreaming of having a nightmare but it was something for sure. All he could choke out was, “H-hm?” You looked at him knowingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said.

“So you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been thinking about it all night?” You prodded. Fuck, Patrick thought, I’m losing my mind. He was thinking maybe he had alcohol poisoning because you were sweet and you were cute and what you just said was... hot.

Patrick played dumb. “Thinking about what?”

“What it would feel like to fuck me.” You answered, too bluntly. Maybe he was dead and this was an afterlife. “I know you think about it. I know when you want it. I know you’re not that into Tashi.” You called him out. His skin burned red hot. You were reading his mind. He had no idea you, so sweet, could talk like this. Could even revolve around this.

“Y/N, I- you can’t be saying shit like that,” as if he wasn’t hard. As if you didn’t notice every time you’d made him hard before.

“Like it’s not true, Patrick. Tell me it’s not true.”

He blinked. He couldn’t. “I-“

“Fuck me.” You said. You didn’t ask.

“Whatttt the fuckkk,” Patrick dragged out. This wasn’t real. This was some wet dream. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to say no. He never hated you more than he did in this very moment. “I can’t.”

“You can, I know you can,” you said, stepping closer. “I want you to.”

This was scripted. This was a test. This was evil. All the possibilities ran through your head. “Why?” That is all he could choke out.

“Art likes sharing with you, does he not?” You gestured to Art’s shirt he was wearing. “Patrick, I know you want to. I’m not asking.”

“Fuck, I-“ he would consent. He would consent a thousand times if it wasn’t his best friend's goddamn girlfriend. You looked at him with those eyes, those eyes he absolutely hated. You were perfect and you were asking for it, and you were still Art's. You were Art's.

Fuck, this was awful. And there was nobody Patrick hated more than himself when he kissed you.

Full force, so hard you stumbled backward. His large hands cupped your face. You tasted sweet like cherry coke and kissing you was everything he’d wanted and fucking more. You kissed back with more than he had even been able to imagine, hands gripping his shirt tight. Art's shirt. You were Art's. You were everything.

Patrick didn’t waste a fucking second, his hands traveled smoothly down from your jaw to your chest, your waist-god your perfect fucking waist- your hips, your ass. You wrapped your arms around his neck and there was nothing more guilt-bringing than the way your lips grazed along his jaw and neck, kissing a trail so easily.

You weren’t sloppy, despite the alcohol, it felt calculated, it felt fucking good. He wondered still if he was dreaming but the crude awakening was that this was wrong. It might have been everything, but it was wrong and it was shady and it was fucking dirty but you were here and you were kissing him and you were locking the door, and fuck, you were too perfect.

From the second he met you, Patrick wanted you. You’d kept him up at night, distracted him during the day, you threw his tennis game and for all of that he hated you. He hated your perfect fucking lips, how soft they were, how they felt when you got on your knees, undid his fly, pulled away boxers and put them over his dick. He hated your soft hands and how they assisted. He hated your perfect eyes, your perfect eyelashes that you looked up at him through. He hated the noise you were forcing out of him as your head bobbed. It took all he had not to push your head down, but he wasn’t an asshole despite how desperate he was to feel more of you.

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned. The sight was too much. The guilt set in the more he looked at you, perfect, on your knees for him. You were Art's. He stopped you, though. But only to kiss you again. The bed was right there but he dropped to his knees on the fluffy carpet and kissed your neck, down your neck. You raised your arms and he practically ripped your shirt off to reveal you in the most perfect bra he’d ever seen. God, you were so beautiful. You arched your back and Patrick didn’t miss a beat unclipping your bra with one hand. You threw it across the room.

His mouth traveled down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth. The small whine you made was fucking intoxicating and there was something to be said about the way it made his cock twitch. Kissing down your stomach, Patrick unzipped your skirt. It was all too easy.

This was so wrong, he thought, looking at the lace of your underwear. No shirt, no skirt, and shoes already gone. O,h it was so crude, the way you slipped your underwear down right then and there, leaving yourself entirely bare for him on the floor. He discarded his pants and boxers, pulling off Art’s shirt. It landed with the lightest thud and there was nothing left there shared by Patrick and Art but you.

Patrick kissed down your stomach, sick as he imagined Art doing the very same. But he wondered how good Art was as Patrick gently opened your legs to reveal just how soaked you were. Practically dripping. There was nothing, no morals going to stop him from burying his face in you. And he did just that.

“Fuck!” You cried out as heat spread throughout your whole body. “Patrick!” You squealed as he licked gently over your clit. He’d barely done anything- but Patrick took pride in his tongue skills, so it wasn’t too surprising. And you tasted perfect- better than he had imagined. Sweet, but the way someone should. And it was more intoxicating than anything alcoholic present. He pushed his face into your cunt, licking as deep into you as he could, licking stripes all the way up and all the way down and drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. You squirmed at all of it, breathing heavily, unable to control the noises you were making. He seemed to have found a sweet spot not on, but near your clit and he tongued a pattern into it and snuck his fingers over, gently rubbing above your entrance before slipping his pointer and middle finger into you. Your back arched, bringing him closer as he simultaneously pumped his fingers into you and licked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned. “Oh god.” You pulled his hair, and you gripped the carpet. Patrick, who was untouched, finished right then and there. As he let out a strained groan, he didn’t stop either action. His fingers pumped in and out of you, wet, soaked, tongue tasting you without end. “I’m going to-“ you moaned and breathed heavily, “Fuck, Patrick, don’t stop!” You ordered. Feeling you tighten, he only worsened his pace and in seconds you came undone on his hand and face.

Your chest heaved, your eyes shut. Patrick was drunk on you, he was dazed- he was so fucked. But you were a slut, apparently. His at the moment, turning around where you lay on the carpet and climbing onto the bed. Patrick was so fucking glad he had two condoms in his pocket that he dug into there was nothing that could stop him from fucking you absolutely senseless at the moment. He was frenzied, out of control and this was so fucking wrong, but with your taste still on his lips how could he not?

He got up, rolling the condom on as you situated yourself on the bed, ass facing him. He was dreaming, this was not real. You weren't real, but you were Art's. Patrick couldn't help himself. “This is okay?” He asked, just making sure. He itched for it, he had itched for it for what felt like forever, and at this point, his desperation and the situation were too much. All of his morals were fucking destroyed.

“Yes.” You said with enough enthusiasm that Patrick had no problem fucking into you from behind. You cried out in pain, not used to something so thick, but you were so wet, it slipped in like nothing. And Patrick grabbed your hips hard enough that tomorrow you’d be bruised. And he fucked you shamelessly as if Art wasn’t even a factor in this equation. It was so wrong, but back arched and stomach against the bed, you were his at the moment. His to fuck. Who cared about the aftermath when you felt so good?

You were perfect and tight and wet and the noise of skin on skin was like music. You cried out every time Patrick thrust into you, feeling him absolutely fill you every single time. He wondered if Art ever fucked you this hard, filled you so well. He wondered if you sounded like this with him, a moaning mess.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “Harder!” As if you weren’t already taking it hard and fast. Patrick had no problem slamming into you, rough as if this had been months in the making. As if he didn’t picture this every time he was alone in bed. As if he didn’t dream about this. You grabbed onto the bed for dear life and Patrick was nearing his end.

“I’m so close, you feel s- you feel so good,” Patrick choked out. It was too easy, but he didn’t want it to be over. The warning was good enough for you apparently because you purposefully tightened around him, pulling him dangerously close to the edge. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” Patrick groaned.

“Fuck me harder,” you begged. And Patrick used all of the force he had to fuck you, the headboard slamming against the wall so hard it put a small dent in it. You moaned so loudly, Patrick swore to never let that sound go and saved it like an audio file to his memory. “I’m so-“

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Patrick said.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Patrick.”

He gripped your ass and waist and pulled you back onto him as he fucked you harder than ever and you almost shrieked from how good it felt to be so filled, so fucked as Patrick spilled into you. Your mouth hung a little open as you followed suit, letting out every noise you felt and breathing heavily. Patrick swore as he finished that he saw a flash of light, something of the sort, maybe he saw God. His orgasm was long, leaving him practically twitching and he filled the condom with everything he didn’t know he had.

You were a sweet girl, no wonder you liked it rough. Patrick was sweaty, fucked out, and pulled out, pulling off the condom and collapsing flat on his back. You sighed and laid there, absolutely ruined. Your mascara streaked down your face from how good you were fucked.

“Oh my god.” This post-nut clarity was the worst. It hit Patrick that he just fucked the living daylights out of his best friend’s girlfriend. The guilt came at him like a semi-truck. Patrick had just fucked up majorly, he was starting to think up ways to disappear. “Fuck.”

“Hm?” You mumbled, absolutely whipped.

Patrick rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the feeling, but it settled in. Fuck, he had just fucked the girl he was completely obsessed with but at what fucking cost? She was drinking, he was drinking, what the fuck would they do about this? How would they get out of this?

“I’m fucking awful,” Patrick groaned and not in the good way. He cleaned up with a nearby tissue and put his boxers and pants back on. His heart beat fast in his chest, he wasn’t rested enough from the sex so it all came like a headrush.

“Why?” You asked, still laying perfectly naked on the bed

“The fuck do you mean why?” Patrick said a bit more harshly than he intended. “I just fucked my best friend’s girlfriend.”

“Oh relax,” you said, sitting up. You were so perfect, Patrick couldn’t hate anything about you. “He’s fine with it.”

Patrick choked on absolutely nothing and it turned into a cough. “He’s what?”

“He said I could,” you replied, pulling your bra back on, then your shirt. Patrick stood there, dumbfounded, putting his shirt back on. “Patrick, it’s okay.” You chuckled.

“How? Why?” He put his hands behind his head, just dumbfounded.

You slipped into the bathroom and Patrick waited for your reply. What the fuck- what the fuck? Part of Art knowing was so fucking embarrassing but at the same time confusing? You slipped back out, “I’m yellow tonight, remember? Art knows. And he likes that it’s you and not some stranger.”

“He let you? He knows?”

“Oh yeah. And I wouldn't go for anyone else anyways. You grinned, putting your underwear and skirt back on. “That was… I’m… you were.” He didn’t expect to face you stuttering. “I’ve never been eaten out like that before.”

Patrick laughed and you giggled. Somehow, in some fucked up way, he was in the clear? He guessed it was Art-like to share his girlfriend. But there was no way- “Really?”

“Never. You're good.” You smiled your winning smile and both of you fixed yourselves up again without talking about it. Patrick was more than satisfied and satiated. All of that was crazy, but so good. He'd finally have to stop using his imagination late at night now. He wondered how much Art actually knew... Like clockwork, there was a knock on the door. Patrick's heart still skipped. You hopped over and answered the door.

"Found you," Art grinned. You smiled and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and for once, it didn't make Patrick feel sick. He'd kissed you too now, it was easier to self-insert. He almost laughed at the thought. "You guys okay?"

"Oh, yeah," You nodded. "I'm gonna go find Tashi and we can go in a bit!"

"Sounds good," Art said. Patrick silently wished you wouldn't go, but you were gone. Art came in and shut the door. "You guys..." He lead on. Patrick's heart raced. But Art just laughed, "Did she do the coconut thing?"

Patrick rubbed his eyes, still a little shellshocked at the situation. Art knew his best friend, "You're her hall pass. I already took mine when we started dating." Art continued. "We both had one for our college eras. Plus, I don't really mind all that much. Thought I would, but it's you, so."

His heart slowed just a little, "Hall pass." he repeated like it was foreign. Art walked over and clapped Patrick on the back, their faces close.

"Yeah. It kept things interesting." Art said with a grin. "So are you going to tell me about it or are you just going to stand there looking like you've seen a ghost?"

Patrick couldn't help the grin that came with that true relief. He hadn't fucked himself over, Art was asking about it like you were something shared. Laughing over it, even and answering all his questions, asking your own. You were now, hall pass wearer of the year, with the door between two best friends. As bad as Patrick was feeling about it still- he knew he'd be satisfied from now on. The relief was also that he couldn't hate you so much now. It would be easier for sure.

As far as this went, it was rarely referenced from that point on. Things moved forward like nothing even happened. It was easy and natural and done with. But nobody truly forgot, not Patrick, for sure. Something to go down in your college-era lore and nothing more.

[yunjardi]

my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]

[young sugar daddy!jake × fem!reader]

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[click here for this series' masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist]

[!!chapter warnings!!: smut [mdni], DADDY KINK, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, oral, gentle sex, cockwarming, angst, crying, arguing, minor possessiveness (???), mentions of negative body image near the end, some fluff, lmk if i missed anything!]

*sorry for any grammar errors

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-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

chapter 16: the ugly truth?

"y/n, please, i really do love you," jake begged you breathlessly, "you're seriously such a big part of my life. what would i ever do without a friend like you?"

a friend.

a friend.

friends.

that's what you and jake are, huh?

the bubbly and shocked feeling that took over your body after hearing jake tell you that he loves you quickly fizzled away once jake uttered that 6 letter word.

that stupid 6 letter word.

how were you even supposed to react to this?

well, you reacted the only way your body would let you.

with anger.

"jake, i need you to do something for me, okay?" jake nodded as you took a deep breath inward before continuing, "once you walk out that door, never come back again. don't bother contacting me either because i don't wanna hear it. friends don't do what we do. you led me on, you asshole. now get out."

"y/n, i meant- i-"

"i said i don't wanna hear it!" you raised your voice, helpless tears falling again, "i-i think it's best if you leave now." your voice softened as tears uncontrollably rolled down your face, causing jake to cry too.

"i'm not going anywhere, y/n," jake declared with a stern tone, "i'm not letting you push me away, not after everything we've been through." you scoffed. "after everything we've been through? you're unbelievable, jake. i'm not gonna fall for your pretty-boy antics anymore, so you can forget about all that."

jake was at a loss for words. he'd never seen you be so cold before, not to him, not to anyone.

"listen, let's both just calm down. i know we're both heated right now, and we shouldn't be arguing when we're mad like this and-"

"will you shut up with your preaching and just go already?!" you yelled out in frustration, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a ball and be left alone. you didn't want to face the man who was actively breaking your heart into tiny little pieces any longer.

"fine," jake gave in, not saying another word and simply walking out of your house.

secretly, you wanted him to keep fighting for you even though it wouldn't make sense if he did.

the millisecond you heard the door shut, you immediately began bawling your eyes out.

you had no idea what was gonna happen next, if anything that is.

all you could do is sob helplessly in the same spot he left you in.

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you made sure to sob your eyes until you could no longer feel tears in your eyes before heading to work with heavier makeup than usual to cover your tear-stained skin.

calling your manager beforehand, you let her know that you were able to work from opening to closing for which she was quite pleased to hear.

you needed to be as distracted as possible so that you wouldn't think of jake's pretty, yet also cute, puppy face, and the way his hair flowed whenever he'd turn to look at you, and also-

damn, you were already failing your mission miserably.

you managed to pull yourself together on the bus ride to work and walk into the bar without any trouble.

lucky for you, the bar extra was packed this evening which meant you'd be too busy running around to think about anything besides alcohol and more alcohol.

there was no room to think about how much you missed jake's presence, how much you wanted him to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, and you definitely weren't thinking about how much you missed the way his scent blinded you whenever he pulled you into an embrace.

it seemed nothing else could gain control over your clouded mind the way jake does. the way that only he could possibly do.

you were so distracted by faded thoughts of him that you nearly spilled drinks multiple times during your shift and nearly dropped a crystal wine glass floor because of how zoned out you were.

luckily, your mishaps were enough to keep you on your toes plus distracted for a teensy amount of time and by the time you checked the clock, customers were already on their way out for closing hours to come.

you volunteered to stay later than usual to lend a hand and clean up around the bar as an excuse to stay away from your thoughts for as long as possible. your manager found it strange, but she was thankful nonetheless to have some extra hands on deck helping out.

waving goodbye to your manager after cleaning tables and counters, you finally exited the building with a deep sigh and began to walk to the bus stop.

as soon as the night time air hit you, you were suddenly plagued with the most extreme wave of loneliness you'd ever experienced. you feared that you would feel lonelier at night because of the jake situation, and you hated that those fears were steadily becoming a reality.

your brain began to run laps as you started to wonder how things could have turned out if you'd been less nit-picky.

maybe you overreacted. maybe you made something out of nothing. maybe everything was your fault.

you couldn't help but sigh.

the walk home from the bus stop was when you finally let all the tears you were holding in pour from your eyes. you almost couldn't see where you were going due to the tears blurring your vision, but you eventually got to your house. your eyes jaded with tears, you turned the corner to enter your house only to be greeted by a figure sitting at your doorstep.

none other than jake.

he simply could not bear the pain of you not being by his side. he was determined to get through to you; whatever it would take, he'd do it ten fold. jake refused to let you go.

ever since you popped into his life, his greatest fear became losing you, and he refused to let that fear become a reality. he swore to himself that he'd do anything and everything to prove himself to you.

"w-what are you doing here?" you questioned jake between sobs, "i though i t-told you to stay away."

"i'm not going anywhere, y/n. hell, i'll sleep out here all night if i have to," jake declared firmly, his bloodshot and teary eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "trust me, you're not getting rid of me that easily." his tone turned slightly sly.

"jake..." you sighed out, "come inside. how long have you been sitting out here?" you asked whilst opening the front door. he shook his head, not wanting to answer as if it wasn't important for you to possess the knowledge of his time camping at your doorstep.

you let him step inside before you, locking the door once you both got inside.

"so, what is it?" you questioned him again with a sigh, "are you here to collect your things or something?" you tried to keep your voice steady, not wanting to show just how badly you were hurting.

"why would i? it's not like i'm never coming back," jake responded with the same stern tone as before, "you told me to leave and never come back, but i know you better than that, y/n. we both know that we're not just gonna let each other slip through our fingertips. well, at least i'm not going to.

you hated the ease that jake had when it came to seeing right through you and/or literally reading your mind.

he always joked that his sixth sense was 'reading y/n's mind,' but it was scarily true, especially in this moment.

pondering on how attentive jake had always been toward you was enough to have you bawling your eyes out again. thinking about all the little things he did for you every since the beginning made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

jake cautiously stepped toward you, testing the waters to see if you'd push him away if he got any closer, but to his surprise, you didn't. he took this as an opportunity to hold you in his arms, and he was relieved that you even let him do so.

he let out the most intense sigh of relief at the feeling of your head falling against his chest, certain that you were able to hear how quickly his heart pounded.

"shh," jake whispered quietly as he held you tightly, "i'm here, princess. don't cry. you're gonna make me start crying again, baby." you simply melted at his touch as he gently rocked you from side to side, comfort rushing through your body. once you calmed down, you were able to wipe your tears away from your eyes and look up at his tear-stained face. the sight of his upset expression made you bury your head back into his chest, a slight guilt creeping up on you from making him cry along with you.

but you began to feel guilt for another unrelated matter.

unfortunately, you were seconds away from ruining the endearing moment because you couldn't help yourself from expressing your thoughts.

"you're all dirty now," you uttered a soft whine as you wiped a few stray tears away from your eyes, "i was all over the bar cleaning up which made me all gross, and now you're probably all dirty now too."

all of jake's clothes were expensive, and knowing that the hoodie he wore most definitely had remnants of unsanitary bar grime, makeup, and tears made you shudder with unease. his cashmere prada sweater would definitely be unforgiving when it came to attempting to get makeup stains cleaned off of the material.

"is that really what you're worried about, silly?" jake asked with a refreshing yet shy smile whilst tilting your chin upward to look up at him. nodding, you felt your face shifting into a pout yet again and wanted to hide your face as a result.

"give me a second to wash up, please?" you gave jake another pout, embarrassed as you wiped the last stray tears away from your face, tears finally coming to a halt.

"only if i'm allowed to join," jake remarked with a cheeky expression, slightly too soon.

"fine."

--------------------------------------------------------

you should've seen this coming.

you should've known that you'd be under the warm water, letting it trickle down your skin, getting lost in a make-out session with the man who can't seem to make up his mind.

you could never seem to gain a sense of morality when the subject of the situation is jake.

you let him overtake you physically and mentally.

there was something about seeing you covered in droplets of warm water whilst steam surrounded the two of you that steadily made jake's desire for you grow deeper and more intense.

jake never knew until now that he had a 'thing' for seeing you with body wash suds all over you; it was like he unlocked a new part of his already-filthy brain.

"hey," jake uttered between kisses as his hands explored your soapy body, "everything i said earlier, it was all a misunderstanding. i love you, y/n, i really do. i just got nervous saying it out loud and started talking out of my ass as a result. please trust me when i tell you that i love you so badly."

your kiss with jake deepened, shutting him up before he could say anything else.

you didn't feel like responding, mostly because you didn't know what to say, so you simply kept kissing him as his hands continued to wander themselves around your body, unknowingly making your core heat up.

as soon as things began to wind down, you turned off the water, handing jake a towel as well as taking one for yourself.

upon arriving to your bedroom, the two of you put on some comfortable clothes as if you weren't about to get undressed in the next five minutes.

you two found your way onto the bed, kissing each other on the lips softly until the situation turned more erotic.

"you're so pretty," jake mumbled into your lips, "all mine." you nodded your head at his comment, "yours." jake seemed to be pleased with your response, it becoming more apparent that his boxers were growing tight.

you let your hands feel down his torso until you got lower, and lower, and eventually down to the waistband of his boxers, ready to take them off after only a few short minutes of them being on. jake followed suit, hastily getting your panties off and discarding them onto the nightstand.

continuing the intimate kiss, jake began to rub gentle circles against your sensitive clit whilst you took his hard length into one of your hands, slowly stroking it at the same pace as he touched you. amorous moans were the only sounds filling the room as jake smoothly slipped a finger inside your needy hole. he moved his hand slowly, feeling every bit of your walls against his slender finger as you began to moan helplessly into his mouth, gripping his cock and stroking it a little harder than before. the two of you moaned in tandem, using your hands to please one another until you reached your limits.

"wait," jake quickly broke the kiss, causing you to look at him as he still continued to rub your clit, "i need a taste."

his statement made your face flush red as you let go of his throbbing cock, letting it fall against his toned lower abdomen as he slid his finger out of your pussy, now positioning you comfortably against the headboard.

"don't be shy, princess," jake chuckled at your coy demeanor, "i've seen you before, silly, and i love what i see." he arguably made you more shy once he parted your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. jake wasted no time, going in for a taste half a second later. the feeling of his tongue against your warmth making a moan escape your lips as your fingers tugged on his pretty brown hair.

"fuck, that's so good, daddy," you mewled as his tongue worked wonders against your hole. you could feel the way he smirked against your clit every time he earned a little moan from you. jake practically lived to please you whether you realized it or not. "i need your cock, please, please, please?" you begged as he stuck his tongue into your soaking hole. jake looked up from between your legs, smirking at how needy his tongue made you.

jake positioned you onto your side, wanting to hold you while he fucked himself into you. he held your leg up, stroking his cock a few times before letting his tip enter you. you squirmed at the feeling, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his thick tip passing through you. slowly, he inched his length into you, his breath hitching at the way your walls clenched around him.

"good girl, so tight for daddy," jake breathed out as he began to thrust softly.

you could feel him so deep inside your cunt, your core quickly burning up at the sensation of his tip steadily bumping against your sweet spot.

jake somehow managed to fuck you like a whore whilst holding you like you were his precious princess.

his thrusts were gentle but very affective, making you twitch as you brought your hand down to your clit, wanting badly to reach your climax.

"daddy, right there," you whined quietly as you brought your hand from your clit up to his spare hand, bringing it around to cup one of your boobs. jake moaned at the way you held his hand against your chest, his core tightening and heating up alongside yours. the stimulation was too much. you found yourself cumming around the base of his thick cock, coating his pretty member with your arousal. "such a good girl," jake praised you as he brought his hand down to your lower abdomen, "you're so pretty when you cum for me."

"your turn, jakey," you urged him by reaching down to play with his balls, causing his head to fall back with a loud groan. he had no choice but to fill you up, ropes of cum shooting deep into your pussy as you both moaned at the feeling.

calming down from your orgasms, you two stayed in the position you were in before inevitably falling asleep as jake kept you close to him throughout the entire night as you both slept.

--------------------------------------------------------

the morning after, you felt deviously groggy as if you'd gotten drunk the night before.

the first thing you noticed was jake being gone.

for a second your heart shattered yet again, but your drama queen moment was interrupted when you noticed a handwritten letter on the bedside table.

my lovely princess,

i had to head home early this morning, princess, please don't alarmed by me not being there. i'm not sure if you're working this evening, but it would be great if you could stop by my place beforehand if you are.

-jakey <3

you let out a sigh of relief knowing that jake didn't leave out of pettiness or anything like that.

you rolled out of bed earlier than you would've liked to so that you could go and visit jake before heading to your shift. you couldn't help but wonder why he wanted you to be there. shrugging it off, you quickly got changed into your work uniform, the usual tight and cropped button-up that you barely had buttoned, and a short skirt.

after getting into your work clothes, you put on a significantly less amount of makeup than yesterday before feeding the fish and slipping on a pair of pretty black heels that were easy to walk in.

and you, of course, couldn't forget to bring (one of) your favorite bags that, of course, jake bought for you. since you believed that your recent fight with jake was now behind the both of you, you felt comfortable with using the clothes he'd gifted you throughout your time together.

feeling thankful for the fact that you made up with jake, it was now time to head to his place.

--------------------------------------------------------

after the lengthy train journey to jake's house, you walked up to his door and rang the fancy doorbell, waiting for him to come to the door.

you were greeted with a soft kiss from a handsome-as-always jake before he looked you up and down, seeming surprised and shocked at your skimpy work clothes as if he hadn't seen them before.

i mean come on, he literally met you while you were wearing these clothes.

"here," jake reached over to you, buttoning your shirt up higher and practically trying to cram your boobs back into your shirt in the process. he could've sworn they'd gotten bigger, but maybe it was just his dirty imagination. "much better," he sighed with relief. you couldn't help but giggle at his antics; you never saw the day where he'd but buttoning your shirt up.

"you're so silly, puppy," you chuckled as you gazed into his sparkly eyes, completely entranced by his handsome face.

you two stood there, your arms around his neck and his around your waist until you were brutally interrupted by a loud "ahem!"

startled, your head snapped in the direction in which the voice came from.

you couldn't believe your eyes.

"jake, w-what's going on here?" you questioned him with urgency as you stepped away from him, losing physical contact.

it had been so long since you've seen her face that for a second you believed that your eyes were playing tricks on you.

there she was, stood right in front of you.

the girl from the bar.

"y/n, just give me a chance to explain myself," jake begged to which you motioned for him to go on as you tried not to roll your eyes, "i just thought that maybe by bringing you both here, you'd bring this drama to a close, call a truce or something, you know?"

"you're joking, right?" you questioned him a second time, feeling like you were about to lose your mind, "there's no drama that needs to be 'closed,' and i don't appreciate the fact that you're bringing me face-to-face with someone who belittled me for months and went on to physically assault me. there is no drama; she's just- she's- a bitch! that's what she is, and i never want to see her again, jake!" your tone was firm, clear, and serious until you panicked after calling her a bitch. you couldn't help but feel your stomach fall into the depths of hell as you tried to hold back tears.

"now just who the fuck do you think you are, y/n?" she began aggressively moving closer to where you and jake were standing, causing your body to tense up, her knowing your name while you didn't even know hers making you fear her presence even more, "you- you're the bitch in this situation, so don't you get it twisted! why are you in jake's life in the first place? all you've done is take up all his time while you sit around and spend his money all while ruining his reputation! before you were around, he dedicated his whole life to his family's business, and once you waltzed in, he started wasting his time taking care of you like a liability. you're ruining him whether you want to admit it or not!"

her words brought you to a standstill. why did she seem to know so much about you and jake's relationship? more importantly, why does she think she has the right to say these things? more, more importantly, why hasn't jake said a single word?

"who are you to say any of that?" you blurted out furiously, "why are you so concerned about what we're doing? just mind your business! none of this would be happening if you just decided to leave him alone! leave us alone while you're at it! blaming me for random shit isn't going to change a thing; jake and i both know what's going on between him and i, and that's none of your concern. leave me out of this."

trying to remain calm, you took a deep breath only for her to start coming closer to a point where you could smell her flowery perfume.

"his business is my business," she stated firmly, looking into your soul via your eyes, "you better believe and internalize when i say that you're a no-good, useless commoner who could only dream of living the life we do. just because you think you're in cahoots with jake doesn't mean you're gonna snake your way into his life, you got that? you're just a bit of fun for him, someone he can use for a little while before he realizes that you're just a pathetic commoner who he shouldn't associate with. god, when will you realize that you're just an object that he can put his arm around and fuck when he has nothing else to do?"

at this time, you wished that your ears were deceiving you; you truly couldn't believe that anyone could say something as cruel as that seemingly without feeling any shame or guilt.

you also couldn't believe that you were basically having a cat-fight with another woman over a man. you never ever thought you'd get to this point, but jake... he just means so much to you to a point where you couldn't bear the thought of someone trying to take him away from you. god you felt pathetic for letting a guy take control of your emotions like this, but you couldn't help yourself; jake was so precious to you.

"soyeon, that's enough!" jake suddenly spoke up, shocking both of you.

well, at least now you finally learned her name after all this time.

"i'm not just gonna sit here and let you say disrespectful things to y/n! she did nothing wrong, and i'm sick of you thinking that she did. she's not ruining anything, and she's especially not ruining me! just leave her and i alone and find someone else."

"seriously, why did you bring her here?" you asked jake quietly, "you knew she wasn't going to be civil about this."

"y/n," jake looked into your eyes as he spoke, "i really thought things would be settled. in hindsight, i should've seen this coming, but i never meant to hurt you by doing this."

she seemed to smirk at the way you finally began to tear up.

"well you did," you spoke out, gently wiping your waterline to avoid messing up your makeup, "i honestly don't know how much more i can take. you told me that you loved me last night; was it all a lie? were you just sweet-talking me? i don't know what you want anymore, jake."

at this point, jake's feelings were as clear as mud.

"look at me. please don't cry," jake begged, wanting so desperately to wipe your tears away, soyeon watching the situation from just a few paces away.

"see, there he goes again," her voice making you tense up again, "taking care of you like a child. it's sad to watch, really. you're only stressing him out by acting like this, so go take your tears somewhere else-"

"haven't we heard enough from you already?!" jake raised his voice at her, "look, if you can't suck it up and leave her alone, then get out and never show your face around her nor i ever again!"

"how could you say that, jake?" she began crying out, "if it weren't for her, things would've played out perfectly! if it weren't for her, we'd be married!"

"m-married?" you managed to speak out as you looked over at jake in disbelief. after that, you couldn't get another word out, only mustering up the courage to take your phone and wallet out of the bag you brought with you (that was, of course, from jake) and leave it on a chair before walking out the door.

no matter how many times jake called your name, you couldn't find the courage to turn around. hearing the words that she said made your entire world crumble around you.

marriage? is that why he invited you to his house to meet her formally?

whatever.

you didn't want to think about it anymore.

you wished that jake's front yard and driveway wasn't such a strenuous walk because you could still hear him calling your name endlessly, begging you to come back.

"let her go, jake," you heard soyeon's loud and mocking voice, "she doesn't understand this lifestyle, and she never will."

maybe she was right. maybe you'd never understand because you weren't born into a rich and noble family like they were.

you couldn't hear much else once you got to the end of the excruciatingly long driveway, only being able to hear a loud "get out" that you presumed came from jake.

after finally making it out of his residence, you took a second to tell your boss that something came up and that you couldn't come in after all. luckily, she was understanding and thankfully didn't make you explain what went on which was a relief.

at that, you took your sad ass back home and planned to stay there for the next couple of days.

--------------------------------------------------------

"that's absolutely insane," yeji's jaw dropped over the phone.

you decided to call her and tell her the sequence of events because, come on, you can't hide anything from your best friend.

"and i'm a wreck over it," you admitted lowly as you spoke into the phone, "i think i just need some time to myself, you know? after all, i've spent virtually all my time with him since we met, so maybe some time apart will do us some good."

"who knows, maybe he'll finally make up his mind," yeji shrugged before letting you go, reminding you that you could call her any time no matter what.

you sighed softly once the call ended, feeling more alone than ever.

stupidly, you decided to open up his designated drawer in your bedroom where he kept some clothes and put on one of his hoodies. the smell of his clothes only made your heart shatter into even smaller pieces as you curled up on your bed in hopes that you could get some sleep, your eyes sore and tired from crying.

a sudden panic filled your body once you heard the sound of your front door being unlocked, causing you to jolt up from your bed.

"y/n, are you home? it's just me," you heard a familiar voice call out to you from the living room. you peeked from underneath your covers to see jake standing before you, holding out his hand for you to grab it, but you refused.

as much as you wanted to curl up in bed with jake and act like everything was dandy, simply seeing his face made you start crying like a baby.

jake's heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you crying.

he did this.

he fucked up.

and he was unsure if he could do anything to fix it.

"g-get out," you managed to stutter through your tears, "y-you're a liar; you d-don't love m-me. s-shouldn't you be g-getting ready f-for a w-wedding with h-her or s-something?"

"for fuck's sake, y/n, i'm not marrying her!" jake raised his voice at you unintentionally, "i don't even want her in my life, so what makes you think that i'd do anything of the sort?" you could only let out sniffles in response, letting tears trickle down your face as jake slowly approached you.

upon seeing you up close, he noticed that you were clad in one of his hoodies which only made his heart soften even more. he couldn't stop himself from climbing into your bed and sitting next to you, his back against the headboard as he looked down at you.

you turned away from him, not wanting him to see your puffy, tear-stained face.

"is it because she's prettier than me?" you asked, your emotions suddenly spilling out, "because her figure is better than mine? or maybe how her hair always looks perfect? is it the way that she always dresses up no matter where she goes? or how you and her probably have a lot more in common in a sense that you two both come from noble and rich families? if you really think i'm an unattractive nobody just say it."

you couldn't see it, but jake's face was in a state of shock, absolutely refusing to believe that your mind came up with all of those ideas.

"you don't really think that, right?" jake asked softly, getting his answer from the way that you stayed still and silent, "princess, how could i ever? don't you know that i only have eyes for you? please, look at me." you felt jake's warm hand meet your shoulder, helping you turn your body to face him.

you sat up against the headboard next to him, your eyes glistening as you looked into his eyes that seemed to be saddened upon finding out what was going on in the depths of your mind. jake couldn't help but stop and wonder how long you'd been feeling that way, and it caused a sinking feeling to bubble up within him.

"if there's one thing i want you to know right now, it's that i think you're the most gorgeous woman i've ever laid my eyes upon," jake declared, pulling you closer and closer, "i don't care what you say, i don't care if you disagree because this is my truth." jake eventually pulled you close enough to where you were sat on his lap, your forehead against his while he lowly mumbled sweet nothings to you.

"you know, ever since i first put my hands on you, i never wanted to touch anyone else," jake admitted in a whisper as his hands began to travel around your waist, "even the thought of being in this position with anyone else makes me sick to my core."

you let jake's hands feel all over you as you felt his obvious hard growing underneath you, letting a small whimper pass through your lips.

some would argue that your relationship with jake was in too fragile of a state to be intimate with each other, but you couldn't disagree more; you needed to feel jake in the most intimate and vulnerable way possible.

"please," you whined in a whisper, jake knowing exactly what you were asking for and following suit.

in the blink of an eye, you let jake slip his hard cock inside you, his hands still wandering around your waist as he pushed his hoodie off your body. you let out quiet moans as goosebumps formed all over your body from his touch. the combination of the slow movements of your hips against his along with the way his hands ghosted over your chest was enough to send your body into a frenzy.

not wanting to rush the pleasure, you slowed the movement of your hips to focus on jake's beauty.

you took time to adore the way his lips looked against your chest as he left gentle pecks along your skin, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his eyes would meet yours, causing you to become shy.

"see how beautiful you are?" jake began, his lips finding their way back onto your skin, "i couldn't even imagine anyone else who i'd give myself to almost every goddamn chance i get. i want you all the time, you have no idea." his breathing slowed down as you began to kiss his soft lips.

it's impossible.

he's impossible.

jake sim is impossible not to fall in love with.

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a/n: sorry this one is so long and isn't exactly an easy read. i hope you still enjoyed it anyway and are looking forward to the next one <3 ily all and tysm for being super patient with this series. i love it so much and don't want to give up on it, so your support really helps <3

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©yunjardi on tumblr

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

PLEASE WRITE THAT ONE SHOT FULL PERMISSION GRANTED

— @girlishwhimsies

TYSM @girlishwhimsies for the prompt this was SO fun to write!! fic under the cut!!!

Ponyboy has no idea how long he's been sittin' in front of the TV. Too long, Pony's sure Darry would think. But it doesn't matter because Darry's workin' a late shift and it's just Two-Bit who's watchin' the box with the same intent, vacant look. Hell, even Soda's curled up in a blanket creamin' Dallas in a game of poker 'n absently watchin' when Dallas spends too long scowlin' at his hand.

(Pony can see clearly he hasn't got shit and he only tears his eyes away every few minutes to shake his head at Soda that Dally is bluffin' harder then Pony claimin' he ain't got homework. Dallas hasn't noticed yet.)

When Pony hears Darry's truck pull up in the driveway he gets the sudden, violent feelin' that he's forgotten somethin'. Somethin' important. He furrows his eyebrows, looks over into the kitchen. Oh shit.

His heart climbs right up into his throat, does a flip, and dives all the way down to his toes. Oh shit, oh shit. Pony is on his feet in a millisecond, jarrin' Dallas as he confidently bets on a hand of shit.

"Look out, Pony's off to the races!" Two howls but pulls his feet up as Pony jumps straight over them. He's not payin' attention to anythin' but gettin' into that kitchen before Darry does. As he passes the door he flips the lock, wrestin' with it when it doesn't go smoothly. Damn Darry 'n his insistence on never lockin' the thing.

"Pony?" Soda half rises, startin' after Pony as he ducks his entire head 'n shoulders into the icebox. "Everythin'-" He cuts himself off when Pony reemerges with the frozen solid chicken they were meant to be eatin' for dinner in forty-five minutes. For a moment, they both just stare at each other, Pony in horror, Soda in amusement.

Then Dallas lets out a long, low whistle as the truck door slams and grins that smile that shows off his silver fang. "Oh, you're capital F fucked." Then Soda cackles so hard he plops back onto the floor.

"Don't laugh." And Pony would normally kick his ass for that but right now he's too worried about the imminent threat of bein' hung up by his thumbs or locked in the shed until he's thirty. "Soda get over here. How do I thaw it out?" And he's got that whine crawlin' into his voice he hates but there are simply bigger fish to fry. Or birds to thaw.

Soda slides across the floor in his socks, ditchin' the blanket 'n throwin' it over Dallas. He rips it off 'n tries to whap Soda with it as he goes by, missin' to Two's great delight.

"I dunno, Ponykid, blow on it?" Soda leans down 'n huffs hot air onto it. Pony throws his head back 'n doesn't even care about the whine that peels out of his throat. He's dead. Darry was gonna kill him.

"Blow on it? Soda that ain't gonna work!" Pony rips the chicken away from where Soda is still puffin' at it. The door knob rattles 'n they can all distinctively hear the aggravated sigh from Darry even through the wall. Bad sign.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Soda snatches the bird back, slips 'n slides his way back into the living room with Pony hustlin' behind him. "Two, get up." Two-Bit takes in Soda holdin' the raw meat by the plastic-wrapped leg like a fish and Pony's face like a man at the gallows.

"Boys, unlock this damn door!" Darry already sounds irate.

"Yeah, Dallas go let Darry in." Soda pipes and Pony whips around wavin' a hand at his throat and frantically shakin' his head. Dallas shoots him a shit-eatin' grin again and gets to his feet, pointing towards the door.

Pony does the only thing he can think of 'n jumps on him.

"Wait, is that-" Two leans away from Soda, who waves the chicken around again 'n makes a face.

"No, it's Darry's million-dollar check yes it's dinner. Now get your ass up!" Pony abandons Dallas, grabs Two by the wrist, desperately tryin' to haul him up. Dallas instantly gets back on his feet and goes for the door again. Pony chooses between the imminent of two threats and goes for Dally again.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Soda takes up Pony's spot wrestlin' Two-Bit up. Soda is far more successful.

"Sit on it!" Soda drags Two up, throwin' the bird down 'n then pressin' on his shoulders to try to get him back into the couch on top of it.

"Oh, I see. You only want me for my hot ass, you dog!" Two arches up so his back is against the sofa but his backside is nowhere near. "I'm not lettin' you throw me under the bus for this!"

"We're not throwin' you under the bus- we're throwin' you onto the bird!" And Two snickers, thrown off his task of keepin' his ass off the couch. Soda tosses himself full force onto Two's lap, bucklin' him back down.

Dallas wrangles Pony off, finally, and throws the lock on the door. Darry scowls, knocks Dallas' gently up the head since he has the misfortune of bein' the one closest to him. Dallas opens his mouth to bitch but Darry shoots him a look and he settles for mutterin' under his breath.

"Now, what the hell is goin' on here?" He drops his keys on the table 'n takes in Pony sprawled on the floor, Soda across Two and Two still wrigglin' for all he's worth against the cold.

"Nothin'." Both Soda 'n Pony say in unison. Darry looks between the two of them once, twice.

"I don't think I have the energy for whatever the hell you four have goin' on so I'm gonna go fix dinner 'n y'all better be back to sorts by the time I'm done." Darry kicks off his boots 'n places them neatly at the door, disappearin' into the kitchen.

"Uh, Darry? About that-"

"Ye- ouch!" Two manages to roll Soda straight onto the floor, shootin' to his feet. When he turns around, his lower back is pink from bein' in contact with the freezin' chicken. "That shit is cold!"

Darry stops, turns back around, blinks once, twice, opens his mouth, shuts it, tries again. "Pony, is that the chicken I told you to thaw when you got back from school?"

"Uh, would you believe me if I said no?" Darry rubs a hand across his temple, looks at the chicken on the couch with bewilderment. For a moment Pony swears they're all holdin' their breath. Then he laughs. Head back, hand grippin' the doorway laughs.

"Goddamn, Pony, what am I gonna do with you?" He grabs Pony by the front of the shirt, ruffles his hair, drops a kiss to a temple. "Kid, did you try to thaw that shit out by puttin' it under your brother?" Pony pouts a little and shakes his head like he can't believe Darry would have thought somethin' like that of him.

"No, Soda tried to thaw it out by puttin' it under him." Darry howls again, grabs his side and then Soda, pullin' him in 'n givin' him the same kiss.

"You boys are gonna be the death of me." He shoots Dallas a grin 'n Two tries to look put out, rubbin' the cold spot on his back still, but he can't make it stick and he ends up smilin' too.

"C'mon Darry, you know you love us." Two sidles up beside Soda, tryin' to nudge him out of Darry's arms. Darry releases Pony solely to cuff Two up the side of his head but pulls him in, too. He squeezes Dallas' shoulder and he stops scowlin' 'n grins.

"Well, I don't think anyone's eatin' chicken tonight." Darry laughs and returns to the door, snappin' his keys off the table. "Who wants to go out for Dairy Queen, instead?" They all hoot 'n holler, even Dallas. Soda even turns a cartwheel right there in the middle of the living room and Darrys in such a good mood he doesn't even tell him off for it.

"And I'll tell you what, y'all can even get milkshakes. Dinner's on Pony!" Pony's jaw drops open 'n Two grabs Soda 'n they both make a break for the truck. Gleefully yippin' about orderin' half the menu. Dallas howls 'n follows them out, pullin' Soda straight out of the air when he goes for shotgun.

"Aw, c'mon Darry-" Darry ruffles his hair and chuckles.

"I'm kiddin', kiddo." Pony will swear he never feels relief like he does in that moment ever again. "Just promise me next time, remember to take the chicken out of the fridge, yeah?"

[theocddiaries]

Sonic: Oh, careful, here comes Mr. Polite himself… Robotnik: What do you mean by that, you rat? Shadow: That your vocabulary consists mostly of insults. Robotnik: What are you talking about, you failed experiment piece of crap?! When have I ever disrespected anyone? Name one single time! FLASHBACKS 1. Robotnik: Let me explain it to you. You’re dumb, I’m smart. You have power, I steal it. You now have to fix the mess I made using that stolen power, and I step aside while plotting how to ruin your day tomorrow. You think, "what a bastard the fat guy is," and I tell you, "exactly," because it was embarrassing how long it was taking you to understand the dynamic, Shadow. 2. [Shadow is lying on a stretcher, struggling to breathe.] Robotnik: Good news. Sonic: Can you help him? Robotnik: No, I have no bloody idea how this guy works. Sonic: Then what’s the good news?! Robotnik: Well, didn’t he have a death wish? Congratulations, Shadow, today your dreams will come true. 3. [Rouge and Sonic gift their Chao to Shadow.] Rouge: Shadoooow, look what we got for you~ Shadow: Ugh, I told you I don’t want-- Aw, it looked at me. It’s mine now. [takes the Chao and pets it.] Robotnik [passes by, freezes when he sees the Chao]: Holy crap, it’s multiplying! [Eggman throws a can at the Chao, sending it flying and bouncing from the impact. Shadow yelps and goes to see if it's okay] Robotnik: You're welcome! And you owe me a soda! 4. Robotnik: Good morning, Commander Towers. What do you need me for? To tell you the time? Let me see… Well, look for yourself. Yes, sir, a solid gold watch. Earned dishonorably, unlike you, who hires zoo animals to avoid paying the bare minimum a human would charge. Rouge [frowning alongside Shadow]: Eggman, we’re right here. Robotnik: And the peanuts they pay you with are over there. [Laughs in their faces.] 5. [Shadow is collecting signatures. Eggman approaches angrily, grabs the papers, and tears them to pieces.] Robotnik: You! Traitor! Collecting signatures to get me kicked off the island, huh?! You ungrateful wretch! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be a frozen popsicle! Shadow: …Ivo, first of all, you did that for yourself, like everything else. Maybe that’s why they want you gone. And second, this isn’t the petition to kick you out. I was collecting signatures for a charity event to help the children’s hospital. Robotnik: Oh… well, sorry, I didn’t realize you were on one of your karma-burning stupid stuff. I knew that even with our differences, you wouldn’t participate in that. Shadow [hands over some laminated pages]: Oh, no, I did participate. Here are all the signatures to officially kick you out. Robotnik: What?! [takes the pages and starts hitting Shadow in the face with the laminated papers like a fan.]: I curse the hour, minute, second, and millisecond my grandfather thought it’d be a good idea to teach you how to speak and write!!!!! 6. Sonic: No way, I’m not doing anything with this guy. I bet I won’t even take a single step before he throws me down the stairs. Robotnik: Hey, that’s offensive, Sonic. This is a mess that affects all of us. I’ve got robots and a daughter waiting for me at home, you know? Sonic: Well, yeah, but… Robotnik: But what? So much talk, so little action. You love saying everyone deserves a chance to get applause, but when it really matters… Sonic: Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s go-- [Sonic starts going down the stairs. Robotnik shoves him, and Sonic tumbles down while Robotnik laughs hysterically, to the point of tears]. Robotnik: Hahaha! Oh my God! [to the rest of the group]: I swear on everything, I meant it. I wasn’t going to do it! But he looked at me with that dumb innocent face, and I couldn’t resist! Hahahahaha!!!! PRESENT Robotnik: …I said one time. How are you supposed to understand my sense of humor when you can’t even understand a simple question? I feel so intellectually lonely…

[luveline]

jadey - HONEY - listenlistenlisten, so I feel like you said you'd write for hopper?? but if not (because he's not on the official list) please ignore this request! BUT would you be able to write something about hopper visiting reader in the hospital after she was almost posessed by vecna?? whether this is still early stages of relationship or already established, you pick, gorgeous!! (also ik this means no hopper/joyce but personally I prefer hopper/me??) xoxoxo BIG SMOOCHES

ty for your request, love u! ♡

Nobody would ever believe you, but you know it's Hopper from the smell. You've missed him for months, and though the scent of him wore away from his sweatshirt before you thought you had time to memorise it, you know without opening your eyes that it's him sitting beside you. 

Your heart monitor beeps loud and erratic. 

"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't freak out." 

It won't listen to him, how could it? Not even the oily fog of painkillers can dull the reality of him being here, right here, this close. 

"You're supposed to be dead," you croak, peeling your eyes open achingly slowly. 

"Aren't you a little old for teen angst?" he asks. 

He's real. He's real, you're exhausted, you almost died, but he's alive. Tears well in your eyes of their own accord, not a lick of choice in it as Hopper takes your arm into his hand. 

"You look sick," you say tearily. 

"Nice. You look worse."  

"Where's your," —you gesture to his body— "everything?" 

He's lost a dramatic amount of weight, hollows sunk under his eyes. He grins despite your insult and leans back in his chair, hand sliding down toward yours, fingers pushing between your knuckles to twine them together firmly. "Russian weight loss program. Like it?" 

You're honestly not sure. Maybe when the shock has worn off you'll feel strongly either way, but right now it's his obvious alive-ness that takes centre focus. 

"I missed you," you say. You've not even a syllable into 'missed' when your voice disappears, the agony of your admission knocking the air from your lungs in one callous blow. "I missed you so much." 

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I'm sorry." 

You start to sit. Hopper stands and slips his hands behind your shoulders, helping you up with a tenderness you've dreamt about every night since he disappeared. There was no time to define what you were to one another, all these months you've been grieving a maybe, but you know the connection you had was more than real when he reaches down the millisecond you reach up. His lips smashed to your forehead and his big hands spread and searching like he's trying to stop you from falling away from him, you splutter as the air is knocked from your chest again. 

"Sorry I wasn't here to look after you," he says.

He hugs you for so long you figure you must be dreaming. There's a familiarity to his embrace even if the feel of him has changed, security with a little less padding. "What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly. 

"What happened to me? You just had something– someone in your head. You almost broke your neck, you could've died." 

"I'm lucky. I am. It could've been worse." It was worse for others. Your voice wobbles embarrassingly. It doesn't put Hopper off. You used to worry that being younger than him would make you too different; you aren't a kid but you haven't lived a life as agonisingly detailed as he has. You're scared there won't be room in his head for your weight, too, but there always is. "You're back," you say, relieved.

"I'm back." 

You breathe out. 

"Let me see you," he demands, drawing away to check you over. 

Your skin is clammy and has been for days, you weren't sleeping —sleeping meant dreaming. Hearing the toll. You've chased sleep with coffee and caffeine pills and bad TV, each day going a little more insane with wanting Hopper back. There were moments when you knew for sure he was dead, and moments you hated yourself for entertaining the idea. Whatever you deserved, he's here, wiping your sleep crusted eyes with a careful thumb. 

"Well, you're still a sight for sore eyes." 

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing until you cough. "I look good in the gown, right?" 

"Better out of it," he suggests, kissing the top of your head. He lingers there too long. You can read his mind for that single moment. 

He's not happy with himself for letting you face it alone. Which begs the question. What kept him away?

"Hop, where have you been?" you ask gently. 

"I'll tell you everything after you eat something." 

"Me?" 

"I almost forgot how rude you are," he says, rubbing your cheek fondly. "Shit. Like I could forget a thing about you." 

You take his hand from your face to clear a path. "That's romantic. Hit your head while you were gone?" He nods, hangs his head, lets you cover the back of it with your hands. You pull him forward, searching for hair he doesn't have. "What did they do to you?" you murmur sadly. 

"Don't say that. The neck up is as good as it gets." 

"I don't believe that for a second," you say, though you worry about what he means. "You better go find me something to eat. I want to know everything that's happened." 

"Got a waiting room full of people who aren't gonna like that," he says, lifting his head.

"I really, truly don't care," you say, still so softly. "I've been waiting to see you again for a long time. They can… they can walk a mile in my shoes." 

"Whatever you want." Hopper clasps your elbow. "Anything you want." 

[glader13]

Meet Me in Malaysia

A/N: Spoiler warning for season 2

- Wedding is the same day, but not the same year as the Shibuya Incident

Nanami always felt heavy on this day, as if his soul was being pulled down by an anchor. On this day, he could never shake the constant cold that hung over him like a cloud. His bed feels much larger, too big for his room. Too big for him, but he’ll never bring another into it. It’s a place only meant for you and him, it’s a place where your memory and scent lingers in the cloth of the sheets and blankets, in the seams of the mattress. It is on this day, when his soul seems to cry the loudest, yearning for its other half. He feels your presence the most on this day, feeling closer to you, more than ever. Feeling so close that he can pull you back down and into the security of his arms. He can’t bear to look at the wedding picture of the two of you on his nightstand, or any picture of you that he has around his house.

His wedding ring felt like a weight on his finger, encasing him in shame and anger at his failure to protect you. He can still feel the stickiness of your blood splattering on his tuxedo. He can still taste the iron, the bitterness, that got into his mouth. He should’ve been faster, been stronger. Maybe, if he wasn’t there, you would be here. October 31st, the day when his life simultaneously started and ended. His whole future was snuffed out by an attack that went through your chest. He only had you as his, officially, for a couple of hours. The two of you were married for only a couple of hours before he lost you. Instead of showering you with love, he visits the places that you like, that are important to the two of you. Nanami got out of bed, feeling sluggish and dull as he got ready for the day, remembering you, trying to chase remnants of you.

He began his day by parking in a neighboring city next to his first destination. Underneath the sun, he felt alienated. The children were too loud, people were smiling too easily. He felt colder than ever. He walked a couple of blocks to what he thought was an abandoned building but now has been turned into luxury apartments. Nanami felt his heart drop slightly, everything and everyone moved on, but he remained stuck. The history that you two shared was an anchor. He sat on a bench in front of the apartments, thinking of the memory that this place holds. The two of you went on your first mission together here, to exorcise a curse. Nanami smiles to himself at his memory of being in awe of your technique. It was a lightning type, instead of having a domain, you were able to summon lightning. But what made Nanami speechless was your swordsmanship. You moved like air with your katana, as if you were dancing.

You went through curses like they were paper, in milliseconds. It was a guilty pleasure of his, watching you move. His face warmed thinking of the times when you would teach him how to use your katana, your hands over his. Just as he was in awe of you that day, you were in awe of him. He hit his first black flash that day, and your stare made him feel like a knight. But what happened after, started something in his heart that he couldn’t have avoided.

“Damn,” you hunched over your phone, “It’s broken.”

“Your phone, right?” He placed his (broken) phone in his pocket as walked back to you. You dejectedly say “yea” causing him to lightly laugh, at least the two of you didn’t break anything. The two of you gave the cursed spirit one last look, you even kicked it, to make sure that it was dead before walking into the afternoon light. The sun was still shining, as you both stood on the edge of the road, not sure what to do.

“That was all we had to do?” You asked, beginning to walk towards the city area.

“Yes,” he kept pace beside you, “We got done early though.”

“That’s good,” you look at him, “Right?”

“I mean,” he said, “Yes, it shows that we’re efficient, so good job.”

You smiled, “Well, since we have a lot of the day left, we should get food to celebrate.”

Nanami frowned, believing that the best thing to do was to stay put because both of your phones were broken. But as he looked at your smile, he felt the fight in him disappear, suddenly feeling hungry. His face began to burn as he felt himself being led by you toward a random food destination. He noticed how your hand held his like he was going to slip away, and he noticed that his hand was extremely clammy, you were always adjusting your hand to his sweaty one, to make sure that his grip wouldn’t falter.

You led Nanami to a ramen restaurant, it was a cute one, with indoor and outdoor seating, and even a bar. The walls were painted black, coming to life with painted pictures of cherry blossoms. The two of you sat at a booth, near the window, the cushion a welcomed feeling after exorcising a curse. It was silent as you watched the city life bustle underneath the clear sky, drowning in the ambient noise of restaurant chatter.

Drowning in how you felt his eyes watched everything that you did. Every tap of your finger, to how he was ready to ask you huh, after your lips would move. In the silence, he noticed that one cheek was slightly larger than the other resulting from the mission, a scar forming on the other. He noticed how the sun turned your eyes into pools, trapping him in something that he could not understand, but it felt like he had always seemed to miss it.

“Do you have plans for the break?” He asked you, causing you to look up from your ramen.

You focused your attention back outside, looking at the families as you swirled your noodles, you just shook your head, causing Nanami to mentally facepalm as he remembered how your family pretty much dropped you off in a new country, not communicating with you. He thought back to when he found you in a hidden corner at the school, crying at the isolation caused by your parents. Lucky for him, you haven’t left his side since, forming a trio with him and Haibara.

“Just staying at school,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, “What about you?”

“We have an extra room,” he said without realizing, “You can stay with us, I can’t imagine you being alone for all of the break.”

“Seriously?” You asked, and he nodded, not knowing that he was planting the seeds for something that grew beyond the reach of both of you.

Before he could answer, a loud thud on the window next to the two of you caused you to laugh and him to roll his eyes. Gojo’s face was pressed against the window, his blue eyes animatedly moving back and forth as he mouthed “found you.” Geto called over Shoko and Haibara and your private lunch celebration became a party. But in the loudness, and in between the laughter and jokes, Nanami was the eye of the storm. Complete serenity and the two of you shared secret smiles that went unnoticed by the friends around you.

Nanami chuckled to himself at the memory as he sat in that same booth after visiting the apartments. Though he had nothing beautiful to look at, no one’s hand to hold across the table. It was just him and his thoughts, and he was feeling crushed like his lungs were ready to collapse at any given minute. He didn’t know that he was setting himself up for failure, when he opened his home to you, perhaps if he didn’t, you would be sitting across from him, poking his leg with a smile. He wouldn’t be reminiscing over the same memories every year on your wedding anniversary, sitting in the same restaurant by himself.

After paying for the bill, he walked to his car, still feeling cold. He mindlessly scrolled through the messages on his phone, most of them wishing him a happy anniversary and expressing condolences. He turned off his phone, not having the energy to respond to the messages. As he looked up, he stopped, just now, he heard you. He heard your voice, clear as ever. He spun around, searching the crowd for your eyes, for your face. Just for something to tell him that you’re there, but he found nothing. He sighed, giving the crowd one last look before he went to his next destination, the place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

Nanami drove to Hitachi, the seaside park holding onto the core memories that he had made with you. He walked through the pathways that were surrounded by the flowers in their autumn bloom, remembering the nervousness of that day when he went there to propose to you. He couldn’t talk as he fell to his knees, causing you to think that he tripped. Nanami chuckled, twisting his ring as he made his way to the Ferris wheel, towering in the distance beckoning him.

He stood in line, tapping his foot on the ground, getting lost in a place between the past and present as he thought of the first time that he was on this ride, how softly you kissed him for the first time. You gave him a promise that you never should have made, and he should’ve known better than to hold you to that promise. Nanami settled into the ride, watching the people in line slowly become smaller. As the ride inched up, Nanami closed his eyes, the salty air bringing him closer to that night.

You decide to get Nanami away from the school after Haibara’s death, not being able to stand the distraught look on his face when Nanami passes Haibara’s old dorm. You didn’t go on that mission with the two of them, but you’ll never forget the fear in his voice when he called you asking for help with Haibara. He sounded like a child, each question being broken up by a desperate attempt to keep Haibara’s attention on him. Each time you said “I don’t know” the pit in your stomach grew larger, hating yourself for being so useless.

Then, when he did return with Haibara, the only way that you were useful to him was by holding him. That was all you could do, was hold him, protecting him in your arms. During Haibara’s ceremony, he was silent, with no reaction besides his hand holding yours like a prayer. He was so close to you then, before pulling away. Days filled with conversation, turned to him barely speaking a word to you, leaving you alone. Each day starts with you praying that the two of you will go on a mission so he can talk to you. But he was distancing himself, each time he looked at you his eyes lingered on you, as if you would fade away, ultimately leaving him alone.

You missed him. You missed the times when you would train together, which would turn into you watching him practice his cursed technique. Or when the two of you would study together in your dorm, which would turn into you being wrapped up in his arms, legs intertwined. In those moments, you felt safer than you ever had, feeling as if your souls were being tied together. In the low light of your dorm, he looked like an angel with a soft blush, his lips in the smallest of smiles. You missed having him near, and each night you saw him in the back of your mind, you felt the ghost of his touch.

You missed your friend.

“Let’s go,” you said walking into his dorm, “We’re leaving.”

“To where?” He turned away from his work.

“Out,” you stepped up to him, placing a finger on his lips, “And no arguing.”

The drive to the Hitachi Flower Festival was quiet besides the music that was playing low on the radio. Nanami kept his eyes on the view outside, only commenting about how the two of you would be in trouble once you got back, in which you laughed. The sound of your laughter would have made him crack, but it sounded harsh in his ears. It reminded him of Haibara, how he lost him due to his failure to protect him. He’ll never hear his laugh again, and seeing you laugh made him realize that he doesn’t want to be around when you meet the same fate.

If he distances himself now, it’ll hurt less when something happens. He tells himself that he’s protecting himself, doing it for the benefit of others, of you, if something were to happen to him, he doesn’t want you to bear the burden of guilt. He’ll die happy if you resent him, it’ll be one less person who will be affected by him. Yet, when you reach over and hold his hand, he doesn’t move it, he welcomes the calming touch.

The flowers were beautiful, a sea of baby blue. The breeze in the air created the effect of waves, as they rolled. You and Nanami kept the conversation light, only talking when you felt the need to. But what he lacked in talking, he made up for in his touch. The two of you never left each other’s side, usually walking with your arms linked together, or hand in hand, and it leaves you feeling confused and relishing in the tenderness.

Before Haibara’s death, you and Nanami were cautiously growing closer, beyond friendship. You were on the verge of asking him what those moments were, what they meant, but everything came crashing down and you didn’t, giving him the space to grieve. In the flower fields, Nanami snapped some photos of you (which he still has), and you begged some poor stranger to take pictures of the both of you (which he still also has).

During those pictures, it was the first time that he genuinely had smiled, and looking at you smile as you leaned into him, he swears that he was falling in love. But, he was so scared of losing you. You dragged Nanami to the Ferris wheel, tentatively thinking that the day was going well, he was smiling more than he ever had following the weeks of Haibara’s death.

As you sat across from him, looking at everyone and the flowers losing their shape the higher you went up, you felt your mind wander back to him, to the two of you. You felt your mind buzzing with words, and yet your mouth was unemployed. You wanted to know that you weren’t alone in your feelings, that he sees you, and desires you as you desire him. His hazel eyes were pools in the sunlight, each time his eyes made contact with yours, the air felt heavier, and you felt breathless.

As the Ferris wheel reached its peak, you felt it shudder to a sudden stop, a static-filled voice telling everyone that the ride had temporarily stopped working. You heard Nanami sigh, looking everywhere but your face, as if losing the small confidence he had to look at you. You turned your attention outside, first looking at the ride operators trying to start the ride, then to the ocean, the gentle waves rolling.

“Thank you, for today,” he whispered, “I … I needed it.”

You smiled, before getting up and sitting next to him. It was a tight squeeze, but he created more space by lifting his arm causing you to be glued to his side. In the shifting sunlight through the Ferris wheel box, his eyes were pools of honey. They seemed to have been looking past you, into your soul. In the silence, the air seemed to have come alive, breathing slowly and heavily. In the silence, you noticed everything about him. How your legs were touching, how his arm was draped over you. You felt your eyes being drawn to his face, noticing every beautiful detail. The only thing that you knew was that you wanted to hold him close, never letting him go. He’ll be safe with you. You saw him lean closer, the small space between you becoming ever more smaller. You closed your eyes, expecting his lips, when you opened them he was staring at the floor.

“I can’t,” he mumbled, “I … I don’t want to hurt you too.”

“Hurt me?” You asked, “What do you mean? You’ve never hurt me.”

“I don’t want you to end up like … like him,” he moved his hand back to his side, still not looking at you.

“I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Well,” you began, “That’s unfortunately part of the life that we were born into,” you said, slowly taking his hand, “Everyone dies, but that doesn’t mean you have to live in fear.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm, “I am afraid of losing you, but I can’t stop my heart from wanting to be with you. I can’t convince my heart that I want someone else. I just want it to be the two of us.”

“But what if something happens to you, and I’m not there, or able to save you,” his voice was shaky, “I don’t know what I’ll be able to do without you.”

“That’s why we take things a day at a time,” you leaned into him, “I can’t promise that anything won’t happen to me, but I promise to be there for you, always. Let’s not have the future overwhelm the now. Overwhelm us.”

“You promise?”

“You have me, Kento, always.”

It was a sweet sensation when the two of you kissed. You loved how his hand gently held your face in place, you loved feeling his smile. His lips were soft, tasting like the candy that the two of you shared, drew you in, making you lose your breath. The somewhat sloppy kiss turned into something more passionate as you felt him deepening the kiss, leaving you breathless. You were lost in him at that moment. Lost in the way he was holding you so close, you were lost in his touch. You were lost in his kiss, which was sending your mind into a sensory overload. You were lost in him.

Before Nanami knew it, the ride was over. He looked back inside the box, and for a moment he saw you there, smiling and waving to him. Yet, when he blinked again, you were gone. Nanami looked at the sky, seeing that the sun was slowly setting, he still had places that he needed to go.Nanami found himself wandering the gardens of Jujutsu High, finding it strange how empty it was. He walked underneath the trees, noticing the autumn bloom that made the wedding day beautiful. He still has your wedding dress in his closet, along with all of your clothes. Sometimes, he pulls it out, just to get a sense of you. It’s one of the ways that he feels closer to you. He remembers how the dress looked stunning on you, hugging you perfectly.

The dress had a lace corset top that was off-shoulder. The bottom of the dress was mermaid style. You were comparable to a queen, or something more gorgeous. To Nanami, as he saw you walk down the aisle, he could’ve sworn that you were the goddess of beauty. If only he could have stopped time right there, then maybe you would still be here, instead of in his dreams.

You stood in one of the spare rooms at Jujutsu High, sitting on the windowsill overlooking the wedding down below. The students that were there slowly trickled in along with your friends from your teen years at the school. Your eyes immediately found Nanami, who was listening to an animated Gojo whose arms were flailing as he snapped pictures of everyone and everything. You smiled, opening the note that Nanami left you in the room. It was short, only a sentence, but it still caused your heart to race: only a couple of steps until forever.

Despite the nerves and the packs of gum that you have been chewing to fight the queasiness, there was an undertone of excitement and happiness. The time for you to walk down the aisle couldn’t come fast enough. You went back to the mirror, looking over yourself. Your hands ran over the dress, your fingers rubbing the lacy material, getting lost in thought. Your mind came to life with fantasies of the future: the honeymoon to Malaysia and the sun-soaked days, and then to eventually starting a family, you felt your face burn at the thought. But, waking up with Nanami the next morning, not just as your lover, but as your husband, is what excites you most, more than anything. That moment can’t arrive fast enough.

“You ready?” Gojo peeked into the room.

“Yes, but my hands are gross,” you rubbed them off on a tissue.

“You nervous,” he laughed, “You’ll be fine. He’s waiting,” Gojo offered his arm, “And once you see him, your hands will fade from your mind.”

Gojo was right, the moment your eyes locked with Nanami’s time stopped, just like when you first kissed him. You felt your legs weaken, causing you to grip Gojo’s arm even more. His face lightened up at the sight of you, shining like jewels. Looking at him in your weakened state, you realize that you never wanted to leave. Nanami took your hand, kissing it with a smile. He held your hand throughout the ceremony, sneaking glances and smiles your way which caused your heart to jump. He looked so handsome you couldn’t stop staring. You were trapped in his eyes, feeling flushed whenever you stared into them. His love was consuming you like a fever. But there was forever in his eyes, and it was an ignition.

The two of you finally faced each other, his hands wrapping around yours. You kissed his hand, your lips leaving behind a faint stain. Nanami cleared his throat, preparing to speak. At that moment, everything and everyone disappeared, it was just him and you.

“I guess I can go first,” he quietly chuckled, “Y/N, ever since I met you, I knew that getting rid of you would be impossible, and being here is a testament to that. I love you to the point of self-deprivation. I want to be the one who worships your body, I want you to fade into me, for our DNA to be intertwined. You’re all that I’ll ever want. All that I’ll ever need. I promise to protect you, to always be there.”

Once again, you were too stunned to speak, but you were floating. Feeling so radiant that you swear you could’ve outshined the sun. In his eyes, you were the only person that he could see. He is the answer to your restless heart and aching soul. Only he can put it at ease.

“Kento, your love runs through my veins, the source of my heart,” you smiled, pausing briefly because of the tears threatening to fall over, “I can’t get enough of you, you have become the air that I breathe. When you are near, the air changes, and when you’re far, I do not recognize myself.”

Your hand gently wiped away a tear that fell from his eyes, causing him to smile as he kissed your hand. You took a breath before talking again, “If my sight fails me, I will recognize you by touch alone. Kento, I will always burn for you. I promise to be your heart’s friend, its lifelong song.”

Nanami lifted the veil, revealing your precious face. He could’ve sworn that he died, you were suffocating him, and he hasn’t even kissed you yet. His lips felt like safety, causing your body to erupt in ecstasy. His lips were soft, drawing you in, causing you to lose your breath. He was holding you so close, causing you to be lost in his touch. It was you and him, and you have never felt safer.

Nanami’s heart sank, the happiness that he felt that day was destroyed hours later. He should’ve forced you to stay at the reception, locked you in a room. He should’ve kept you safe. But you insisted, as his wife, you needed to be there with him. Despite trying to force that memory out, he can’t. It’s embedded in his soul.

You played with your ring in the front seat as Nanami drove to meet up with Gojo and the others. In the silence, you were aware of everything, and how your future that was in reach, suddenly felt out of it. Nanami’s face was in a tight frown, his only smile was when his hand squeezed your leg. His smile would disappear though when you would grab his hand, staring into his eyes for some type of comfort.

But you found none, just a look of trying to keep every together. You’ve never been scared to exorcise curses, but as your relationship with Nanami grew deeper and more intimate, you felt your fear blossom. You wanted nothing more than to turn around. In the silence, you were aware of his cologne, now suffocating you. The wedding garter that you spent the whole day imagining how he would take it off, felt like it was cutting off your circulation. You got the foolish idea to pray, but something in you felt dead, an endless pit in your stomach.

“Hey,” you reached for his hand, “I need to tell you about our honeymoon,” he didn’t look at you, so you continued, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I need to tell you-”

“Don’t,” he squeezed your hand, “Tell me after.”

“What if,” you felt the fear spread across your chest, as a truth settled over you.

“You’re going to tell me after,” he repeated as if saying it again would make it come true.

You only nodded, your mouth stuck together. The rest of the drive was done in silence until you arrived at the destination. It was a massacre of a town. A mess of bodies for the hordes of curses to feed on. You bit back your disgust, steeling your nerves. You felt Nanami quickly grab onto your waist, whispering in your ear to be safe.

The two of you began to split the difference between the curses for that area. It was effortless, your movements were graceful, your weapon driving through the curses before they even realized. You and Nanami fought side by side, his smile was small at the times when you would take his kill. You were cautiously beginning to feel optimistic. You felt enraptured by Nanami watching him move. He was beautiful, looking like a knight. As the fighting dragged on, more hordes replaced the ones that you had cut down. Your energy was waning fast, and looking at Nanami’s heaving shoulders and sluggish movements, you could tell that he was feeling the same. “Just a couple more,” you breathed. He didn’t respond, his eyes were focused on the slow horde that was moving in your direction.

You quickly turned his face in your direction, kissing softly, “Just a couple more, and we can go back to enjoying the rest of our night.”

The two of you tried to continue to stick together, but it was overwhelming. You lost him in the horde, as you desperately searched for his blonde hair. You yelled his name, but your voice was washed away by the noise. You steadied your breathing, trying to convince yourself that he was fine, he promised that everything would be fine. You stumbled through the horde, your eyes open for him, your ears only listening for him, until you found him. You don’t save him and he dies, save him and you’re out of luck, either way, your wedding night will be beyond ruin. You shouted his name again over the chaos, begging him to get up, for his arm to reach for his weapon, but he was gone. He was a vegetable, completely paralyzed, staring blankly in front of him. His eyes were hazy, clouded over, seemingly looking at everything and at nothing at the same time.

You continued to fight through the horde of curses, all while keeping an eye on him and the curse in front of him, which seemed to taunt him by walking around him, playfully pulling out its pointed tail. Every time you seem to get closer to him, another one replaces the curse that you just killed. There always seems to be more. You leaned on your katana, your breathing heavy as you counted how many were in between you and Nanami. It seemed like everything in you had been ripped out and torn apart. You couldn’t move, your legs were made of cement, but you had to move, you had to save him. You felt yourself go on autopilot, slashing through the hordes of curses just to get to him. The world faded out into nothingness, it was just you and him. You blocked the curse’s pointed tail from stabbing Nanami’s chest with your weapon, grunting from the weight of it or from your low energy. You took a protective stance, praying that he would get up soon. Just as quickly as the curse attacked you, you were meeting those attacks with your katana, each connection making your wounds scream out in protest. You knew that you could keep up, but you didn’t know for how long.

Each minor mistake of letting the curse’s spiked tail graze you as a reminder that you’re still fading. You need to find an opening, but it’s not giving you any. You grunted Nanami’s name, urging him to get up, you felt your movements getting sluggish, the curse almost bringing you to your knees multiple times. You needed to end this, to protect him at least. The air around you began to come alive, creating a low hum. The hairs on your body began to stand on end, your katana also seemed to come to life. A low glow and hum came from it, and electric tendrils fizzled in and out, covering the metal. You strengthened your stance, waiting until the curse revealed its opening to you. Then, you saw it.

The attack was supposed to kill the curse, and it did, but there was more. You drove your katana into the curse, summoning lightning as you did. The electricity that was wrapped around the blade, covered the curse when you pierced its chest, making it convulse as it shrieked, covered in the tendrils of lightning. You killed it, but you felt pain, so much pain. It was unbearable, the environment around you was void of air. You looked down to see your wedding dress slowly turn red from where your chest was impaled. Your hands weakly grasped at its tail, your hands slipping until you were able to pull it out causing more blood to fall. The world was swimming, and confusion flooded your senses. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms. He caught you before you fell, and he was lost, hopelessness crashing down on him. He whispered your name, pulling out his handkerchief and pressing it against your wound. He hated the haziness in your eyes, how weakly your hand held his.

He should have been able to fight. He hated himself, he hated the mobility of his limbs, how he was able to move when it didn’t matter. The handkerchief was a useless tool, his hand was covered in your blood instantly. All he could smell, all he could see was your blood. He couldn’t talk, every promise of your well-being got caught in his throat. He was losing you after he just got you. He picked you up, shielding you as he began to go back to the car. He’ll take you to a hospital, somewhere where someone can save you because he can’t seem to do it properly. As he held you close, you were fading, slipping away slowly. The moments were rushing past you, infinity seemed closer than ever. You have to talk before you won’t be able to. You coughed, trying to breathe and form words, but he hushed you, telling you to not waste any of your much-needed energy. But you were fading, his promises of tomorrow were not meant for you.

“Malaysia,” your words were barely a whisper. Nanami looked down, unable to hear you over his heart. You repeated the same word, feeling everything in you drained.

“What about it?” He asked though he wasn’t focused on you. He was erratic, he could have sworn that his car was right there. He looked at trees and destruction around him, the place looking like where he had just come from. In the dark, he felt small, everything was looming over him, closing in. When it comes to you, he can never save you. When it comes to people that he loves, he can never save them.

“Our … our honeymoon,” you murmured, “It was supposed … supposed to be in Malaysia.”

You looked up, weakly smiling at him. In your eyes, he felt his heart break. In your eyes, he saw the beginning of the end. His future was brief, snuffed so easily like the flame of a candle. Nanami felt his lips quirk upwards, smiling just to mirror you, even though he felt nothing inside but crippling loneliness, he smiled just to ease your heart. He kissed you again, ignoring the breaking of his heart, this will be the last time that he will kiss you. As he kissed you, he swore that he’ll never forget you. He’ll commit everything that is of you to memory. He’ll tuck you away in his heart where the forgetfulness of time and age can’t touch you.

“I love you,” you whispered, “I’m so happy that you made me yours,” you reached out for his face, turning it towards you. You saw his smile, despite the tremble of his lips, the tears pooling in his beautiful eyes. You saw him, as if for the first time, and he looked even more handsome. Like an angel.

He dipped his head down, softly kissing your forehead, unable to move his mouth. Unable to accept that you’re leaving him. Impossibly, he could still smell your perfume, as he held you, he remembered the feeling of grabbing the lace of your dress when he kissed you earlier that day. He kissed your lips, dying at the shape of a smile on your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered back, holding you closer than ever as if that’ll give him more time with you.

But it didn’t.

-

“Try it again Shoko,” Gojo said, standing on the other side of the medical table. He was gripping the edges of the table, using his six eyes to catch a glimpse of your soul, of anything.

Nanami was sitting on the floor behind them, unable to stand, unable to be present. He was stuck. Stuck in his mind, stuck in the situation, stuck in his failure. He didn’t clean your blood off of him, in a twisted way it was the last memory that he had of you, and he didn’t want to depart from you any more than he had to. He watched them with glazed eyes, everything in the room was distant and hazy. He felt hopeless, another person who he loved was dead because of him. He looked up, and through the haze of tears and grief, he didn’t see your lifeless body, but he saw Haibara.

“We’ve been here for almost two hours, I don’t know why, but I’m having no effect,” her voice trembled.

“We aren’t leaving her, try harder Shoko,” Gojo said, looking back at Nanami. After another grueling hour, which felt like an eternity to Nanami, Shoko stopped, quickly cleaning her eyes.

“We can try again-”

“No, I’m not doing this anymore, not unless he wants me to continue,” Shoko said before sitting next to Nanami on the floor. She took his hand, finally causing him to be drawn into the present, “Do you want me to continue, or do you want her to rest?”

Nanami died twice that day. He died watching you get stabbed, and he died now, once again your life being in his clumsy hands. He hid his face, crying into his hands. His chest was in constant pain, as he was torn between letting you go and being selfish. He could never find another, you’re his other half. That alone was a good enough reason to keep you, to make Shoko keep trying to revive you. But, would you be the same? Would you still be his love, or would you just be a walking corpse, without any emotion? To live is to feel, and he knows that he can’t take away what makes you sentient.

He can never harm you, will never harm you. He values you too much. He can never stop loving you, no grave will ever shake the foundation of his love for you. You’re too entwined in his DNA, in his soul.

“Let her rest,” he whispered. Even though he knew that he did the right thing, he felt like he made a mistake. He felt responsible for your death again. And, he wept for you in totality. His cries were echoing throughout the empty room, as he cradled you. He apologized profusely and confessed his love until his voice gave way. Until his words were just cries. And when he got back to his empty home, he found the tickets for your honeymoon to Malaysia.

He burned the tickets, there was no point in going without you. But as he watched the flames consume the tickets, felt the heat on his face, he felt colder, emptier than ever.

He was drunk on the day of your funeral, he even kept a flask on him, hidden away underneath his unkempt suit. He was so drunk that Gojo had to get him out of bed, had to force him to get ready. Nanami didn’t stop drinking that day, he had to make sure that he didn’t feel anything, and that he wouldn’t dwell on the fact that the funeral was happening because of his decision. The decision that he constantly thinks about, floating between uneasy peace and regret. He keeps thinking what if, and it drives him insane. He wasn’t able to talk at your funeral. The words that he had written were blurred, forming together. He couldn’t breathe up there, everything was too loud and he just wanted to take you and hide. Each time he looked at you, it felt as if a noose was around his neck. Instead of talking, he stepped away from the podium, looking at you and he felt himself automatically stumble towards you, falling to his knees. His tears staining your clothing as he wished you would tell him that it’ll be okay.

Nanami left the garden, driving to where he could always talk to you. Nanami did his normal routine when he got to your grave. He moved away any dead leaves and picked up any trash that may have flown over to your grave. He dusted off the stray dirt, before lighting a candle. It was rose-scented, drowning him in your presence. For a moment he thought that he felt the soft touch of your lips on him, and heard your laughter in the breeze. He didn’t know what was in the air today, but he felt closer to you as if he’d run into you at any moment. He then went over what he did that day, talking quietly to not disturb the other people who were visiting their loved ones. As he talked, he felt himself pausing at certain points, imagining your laugh or comment. Nanami then got situated, pulling out a book to read. This is how he would end his anniversary, sitting by your grave. He could spend hours here, hell, he would live here if he could. He would do anything to not be separated from you, to see you again. That would be a gift.

Death would be a gift.

The ringing of his phone caused him to stop reading, a message that he was needed in Shibuya. He sighed, packing up his things, “Happy anniversary, love. Sorry that I can’t be here for a little bit longer. Talk to you later.” And, as he walked away he swore that he heard your voice. It was a mirror of his message, your voice whispering back see you soon.

Shibuya Incident after Jogo:

He walked along the shore, taking in the sea breeze, and listening to the trees rustle lightly. Overhead, birds dotted the sky, even diving into the water to catch their prey. Nanami knew the place immediately, seeing this beach a million times on your computer when you thought that he wasn’t looking or paying attention to you. Then, he immediately knew where he was because of your last words to him, revealing the location of the honeymoon. A beach house that was free from curses, free from reality.

It was going to be a beach house dedicated to loving you, which Nanami had all planned out. He continued to walk along the shoreline, getting lost in the area of infinity, where the sea meets the sky, getting lost in his thoughts of you. The hole that you created felt larger than ever in this place, his soul seemed to ache with fervor as if signaling that you too were in this place.

He had always planned on visiting here more than once, maybe even starting a family tradition, he chuckled to himself imagining you holding his child’s hands at the water’s edge, pointing in the distance talking about the birds trying to get the fish. He could imagine how beautiful you would look, with your skin kissed by the sun, and your sundress bunched up so it wouldn’t get wet. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, opening it to the picture of you. He pulled out his ring from his pocket, turning it over in his hand, the once feeling of pride being overwhelmed by pain. He needs you by his side, it’s been too long since he felt your arms, your kiss, hearing you call him Nami.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispered, kissing his ring, “To never lose you again.”

He kept on walking along the shore, humming to himself when he saw someone kneeling at the edge as if looking for gold. He didn’t know who this person was, but he couldn’t stop his feet from taking him in that direction, as if he were stuck in this person’s gravitational pull. Drawn to them like the sea to the shore.

~

Nanami slashed through the horde of curses, not thinking, just fighting. He was tired, so tired of the fighting. He wasn’t even himself, he felt out of his body, watching himself continue to fight as if he were possessed by another being. His mind was torn in half, being in two different places. He wanted, no needed to focus on saving the others, breaking down the barriers to allow none sorcerers to escape.

But he kept on slipping to the beach, to the mysterious person standing in the water. Slowly, the curses disappeared again and he was on the beach, able to breathe again and his body free from pain. He saw that the mysterious person was a woman, her face covered by a sun hat, the red bow matching her sundress. He quietly watched her run her hands through the sand, noticing that she had a sand dollar in her lap.

“Excuse me,” he said, “Do you know where we are?”

“Nanami?”

~

There he saw you, in the horde of curses. Looking just as beautiful as you were when he last saw you. You turned to look at him, smiling, ignoring the curses around you, and he was stuck, dead to everything and everyone. All he could see was you, impossibly close, beckoning him. Moonstruck, as memories of you flooded his heart, caused him to drop his weapon, and stumble to you. He stumbled to the place where his mind could focus on, he didn’t sense Mahito, all he sensed was you. Your perfume, your soft touch, it was all you.

~

She turned to face him and he fell to his knees, crying, though not from sadness. His mind couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling, who he was seeing, who he was holding. You were immediately swept into his arms as he fell over with a splash. He held you against him as he nuzzled your neck, warmth spreading over you feeling his lips graze desperately against your skin. You fell to pieces staring into his eyes, you felt as if you were free falling into hues of safety and love. He pressed his lips against yours, tentatively at first, as if you would disappear if he kissed any harder. But you didn’t slip from his hands, you stayed, and he still couldn’t understand what he was feeling, but he knew it was joy. That the part of him that you stole when you died was healing itself the longer he held you against him.

Seeing that you were still in his arms, he kissed you harder, softly biting your lower lip to open the kiss, and he missed your lips against his. He kissed you as if you were time itself, trying to barter for more moments. He felt that he could finally breathe again after years of being devoid of you. Your lips were the oxygen that he needed, and each time you pulled away to breathe, his lips would chase you, pulling you back. He couldn’t get enough of you, mumbling apologies each time he nipped on your skin.

“Kento,” you murmured, “Kento,” you said again, holding his face, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here, so soon,” you felt your face drop a little bit.

He smiled, it was small and rueful, as he leaned into your touch. You moved his hair from his face, immediately thinking of the time when he had one bang to the side of his face, secretly you rejoiced when he changed his hairstyle because it revealed more of his handsome face. You smiled once again, leaning into him causing your noses to touch lightly. You then kissed him softly, feeling him smile as he said, “Well, you left me first.”

“Not fair,” you kissed him again, “I saved your ass, remember?”

You didn’t hear him laugh, he just stared, gently touching your face as if you’re fine China. You asked him what was wrong, and he shook his head, dipping down to kiss you again. You breathed him in, trying to catch up on all the missed time when you weren’t able to smell his cologne.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” You asked again.

He smiled, “You look even more beautiful than the day that I lost you.”

“And you, even more handsome,” you kissed him again, “But we’re here now, together. We have an eternity to admire each other, to love each other.”

Nanami nodded, still unable to talk or believe that he was there. That he’s talking to you, holding you again. But it’s real, you’re real, and he has never been happier. You took his hand, beginning to walk, to where Nanami didn’t care, he’s holding your hand, and that’s all that matters. Just the two of you again, and he felt just as moonstruck when he first saw you.

“There’s someone else here,” you smiled.

Before he could form a question, Nanami was tackled by Haibara, causing you to laugh. Once again Nanami was dumbfounded, nothing but tears and happiness flowing through him. He’s reunited with the people that he loves, and he doesn’t have to worry about them leaving him or him leaving them. As Haibara joked about Nanami being an old man, Nanami looked at you sharing a secret smile. And you sat next to him, kissing him on his forehead. A kiss of promise, a kiss of forever.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

I Am Your Destiny (Yandere!Rio Vidal x female!reader)

Summary: You had recently gotten engaged and you couldn’t be happier. But someone you’re close with has taken it upon herself to ensure that that will never come to pass, that you are hers and hers alone….

Prompts taken from the Yandere Writing List by @yandere-daze

67. " Nothing can separate us now."

38. "Only look at me with these pretty eyes of yours."

(CW: Kidnapping, forced kiss, potential murder implications, (kinda up to interpretation) restraint, (just on the ankle) possible drugging)

Author’s Note: I actually managed to get one of my ideas out of my head and into a story, holy shit!

Reader is, of course, 18+.

Your eyes shoot open as a soft breeze brushes against you.

“Where the hell am I?” you whisper fearfully as your eyes dart around. It looks like a clearing in the moonlight surrounded by a thick forest, but….it feels unnatural. 

The last thing you remember is preparing your wedding invitations. Your partner of seven years had proposed to you and you’d been nose-deep in preparations despite the date being far off. But there’s bigger fish to fry.

Your heart pounds, your breathing quickens; is this a kidnapping? You try to stand up, but something’s keeping you down on your knees. Looking behind you, you see a rope of green light surrounding your ankle, the other end tied to a tree. This escape clearly isn’t going to be easy.

Suddenly you hear a familiar chuckle from the forest.

“Finally, you’re awake, my love.”

Your blood freezes as a shadow slowly strides out of the forest, unveiling their identity; dressed in a black off-shoulder gown with a crown on her head, her dark hair flowing in the light breeze.

“R-Rio?!” you gasp out.

Hearing this, her smile grows.

“Ah, my little bird….how I love hearing you say my name.”

She glides closer until she’s hovering above you, like a hawk hovering over its prey. 

“What’s going on?” you choke out.

She doesn’t answer, instead slowly kneeling down in front of you. 

“What’s going on?” she repeats before shrugging. “Nothing much, just…..claiming what’s mine.”

The drop on her volume at the end sends chills through you. 

“Wh…what are you talking about?” you gasp out.

Rio coos in response. “Oh darling….don’t tell me you’re really this clueless.” Reaching out, she slowly tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. “It’s so obvious; you and I are meant to be together.”

Upon hearing this, you have to do a double-take. No….there’s no way you heard that right; Rio’s your best friend, the first one you told about your partner’s proposal, the one you told all your secrets to. Of course you know she’s Death, that she’s the original Green Witch, but you never considered her as anything more than your best friend. 

“Rio, don’t talk nonsense,” you chuckle nervously, praying that this is just a joke, just a terrifying joke.

“….Who said it’s nonsense?” Her face betrays no sign of deception, that just makes you feel even more horrified. “What’s nonsense is believing that you’re not meant to be mine, by my side for all eternity.”

“Okay, that’s enough, Rio,” you pant. “Just…..cut the bullshit and let me go.”

Hearing this, her eyes harden. 

“Let you go?” Her tone drops as she leans in close, her face only a few inches from yours. “Do you think I’d be insane enough to do that? When I have what I want here and now? Don’t make me laugh. Besides I’ve waited long enough for this moment, and when things arose, I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Once again, you try to stand up, but within a millisecond, you’re back on the ground. 

“Don’t even bother, it’s cosmic-grade magic,” she huffs. “I can’t have you running off; besides, you wouldn’t even know the way out.”

A lump forms in your throat as you remember just how powerful Rio actually in.

“Why are you here?”

She doesn’t answer for a hot second. “Well….it’s pretty simple; I want to ensure this destiny is fulfilled, and one way to do that is soul-binding.”

“Soul….binding?” you gasp out.

“Soul-binding,” she repeats. “A ritual that connects the souls of two people to the point where the mere thought of being separate from them gives one a sense of absolute dread. It is a bond that nothing is able to sever.”

Gently she cups your cheek, brushing her thumb against it in a slow circular motion.

“Once the ritual is performed, our souls will become one. We’ll sense each other’s thoughts…feelings…desires…we’ll develop a deep desire to be with each other, a desire that will grow into a compulsion. We’ll sense each other’s wants and needs, we’ll be able to communicate telepathically, among many, many benefits; best of all…”

She slowly cups both sides of your face with one hand.

“….Our life forces will be connected,” she whispers. 

Your blood goes beyond frozen; Rio, being Death herself, cannot die. If you become connected to her…..

“Rio, you’re insane!”

She just grins and nods.

“Insanely in love, in particular.”

“This isn’t love, it’s obsession!”

Rio merely chuckles. “I see them as one and the same. Anyway, let’s not waste anymore time. Our souls will soon be one.”

You’re in the biggest panic of your life.

“Rio, you can’t do this; you know about the proposal!”

Upon hearing this, Rio gives a bitter chuckle. “Of course I know…..why do you think I’m doing this now? They don’t deserve you. They’re not your destiny; I am.”

“But…..they’re gonna wonder where I am!” you stammer.

She sighs. “Oh, my love…..you’re truly so naive. Did you think I wouldn’t be prepared for that? I’ve already taken care of the problem.”

All of your trembling that you’re trying to hide freezes at that moment. “….what did you do to them?” you gasp.

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, my little bird,” she says. “Enough diversions; it’s time to bind.”

In an attempt to avoid the ritual, you turn away, but Rio grabs your head and yanks it back to face her.

“There’s no use fighting it, my love,” she purrs. “This is what’s meant to be.”

“If you do this to me, I’ll hate you forever!” you snap.

However Rio just laughs. “Oh, I beg to differ, my love. Once the ritual is complete, you’ll be so enamored that you’ll only look at me with these pretty eyes of yours. I guarantee it.

Keeping her hands on both sides of your face, she leans forward and locks her lips onto yours. You try to pull away, but Rio’s grip on you is too strong. Her lips give off the taste of mint, one that’s almost….alluring….

You begin to feel your mind fog up and your muscles begin to loosen. But you know you need to get away…..right? The mint taste and scent is beginning to overtake you; at the same time, you feel a strange sensation enter your body, which brings back your alertness slightly. You sense yourself torn between the need to break out and the desire to succumb. However the more you’re exposed to this delicate but intoxicating aroma, the more you lean towards the latter. The strange sensation strengthens, but it’s strange in a euphoric way. Even as that little voice in the back of your mind tries to bring you back, the euphoria and mint both nearly have you. The voice is slowly fading away….until all there is is the euphoria and mint.

You reach up and grab Rio’s face, burying yourself deeper into the kiss. A deep primal desire awakens in you, a desire to be closer than humanly possible; and the more you two kiss, the stronger the euphoria becomes until it’s one of the only things on your mind.

After some time, Rio slowly pulls her lips away from you before giving a chuckle. The two of you lock eyes and you feel as though everything else has faded. As far as you’re concerned, nothing exists but your beloved Rio….

“There…. Nothing can separate us now,” she whispers. 

Reaching over, she places her hand just above your chest, the touch making you feel…whole.

“You can feel it too, can’t you?” she chuckles. “Our souls are now one, bound together eternally.”

You focus, and sure enough, you feel as though your souls have practically merged into one, and you love it. It just feels…..right. Seeing this, Rio releases the bind on your ankle and brings you in close. Her warmth immediately puts you at peace as your head settles on her chest. 

As you settle in, Rio whispers in your ear, her warmth breath caressing your ear. “You’re safe with me, my love. I’ll protect you, cherish you, treasure you as the precious gem you are. You will want for nothing. All you have to do is stay with me….can you do that for me?”

Without hesitating you nod, an enamored smile forming on your face, and Rio chuckles.

“That’s it. You’ll stay with me like the good girl you are. You don’t need anyone else. I am all you need…..”

As her warmth encompasses you, you feel your eyes begin to flutter shut, the echoing sounds of the waterfall, along with the rise and fall of Rio’s chest, lulling you into a peaceful slumber. Nothing can make this more perfect for you. You know you’re exactly where you need to be, where you want to be. You simply can’t imagine being anywhere else, except with your beloved Rio. And just before you drift off, you hear her whisper into your ear.

“I am your destiny….”