#do you want me to just 2 step in the middle of the crowd.

[rocals]

re: your tags about pit etiquette yeah I didnt know that people were getting annoyed by the pitast night, like it opened as early as pinkshift and looked fun! I was pit adjacent before the crowd pushed me further up, and being mildly pushed on the edges because you're too close is just what's gonna happen lol, like if you don't wanna be shoved go stand on the side out of the way . that was definitely the roughest show I've been to (so I'm glad I've been forewarned about vitus) but it wasn't like, rough above expectation for the venue and band? I think the only time anyone around me got annoyed was when 1 wasted guy kept surfing to the front every 5 minutes and kept elbowing his way back to the middle whether there were people in his way or not

yeah, I'm sure there were a few shitty people but from where I was (in the pit) it was fun! I'm not like a super experienced concert goer but if you just try to pick up on the vibe it's not hard. do a minimum of research into hxc if you're not familiar and if you don't want to get pushed go to the very back. it's a small venue and a post hardcore band... people are gonna go for it and shove and thats the fun!! but ultimately what do I know I'm new to the scene 🤷‍♂️

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

-

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental. 

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 

Breathe in and out. 

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

[aperrywilliams]

If Anything, I Find it Educative (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer is not happy attending the annual FBI Gala this year. Having to socialize with a woman who only wants to seduce him makes it worse. But one not-so-fortunate incident could improve his night somehow.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Awkward Spencer. Morgan is stubborn about Spencer getting 'game.' Spencer spills facts about seafood (oysters), human biting, and cheating. Mention to Spencer's dick (only a phrase). Someone choking on food is described. A toxic relationship and job insecurities are described too. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Okay, people. This is kind of an experiment: I want to know how you think the relationship between Spencer and Reader might evolve (if it evolves at all). Good friends? Romantic relationship rom-com style? An angsty romantic relationship? Friends to lovers? Just lovers? What important things do you imagine could happen to them? (canon or not). What could be the Reader's whole back story?

This is just a one-shot, but I am considering continuing it based on your thoughts and suggestions.

Part 2

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Spencer's POV

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There are few things I hate more than being surrounded by many people at an event. Standing in the middle of a crowded party dressed in formal attire is one of them. 

It is an uncomfortable occasion highlighted by uncomfortable clothes.

And this time, it's Hotch's fault.

Tonight, I should have been at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket and enjoying my new edition of War and Peace. But the annual FBI gala and Hotch's adamant request blew my plans.

"Strauss wants to see the whole team at the venue this year. And we are in a very thin line with her to ignore her wishes."

No one seemed conflicted with the idea of attending this fancy party. Even some of my teammates looked excited about it. While JJ and Garcia chatted animatedly for days about what dress they would choose, Morgan saw it as a chance to get to know the new female agents working at Counterterrorism. Rossi only wanted to know how good the scotch would be this year, and Prentiss took it as an excuse to have free drinks. For his part, Hotch seemed as calm as any day at work.

But me? I wasn't excited at all.

Reluctantly, I purchased a tuxedo for the gala. At first, I thought about renting one since I would hardly use it again. But my germophobic self made me think again, and I decided the expense would at least make me feel less uncomfortable.

Keyword: a little less uncomfortable.

Now, I'm standing at the entrance, scanning the venue, searching for a familiar face. The place is packed with agents from all divisions and their plus ones, so it's hard to find anything at all.

But a familiar voice pulls me from my struggle.

"Boy genius! Over here!"

Penelope is calling my name from a table in the corner. As my gaze lands on her, I can see Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Hotch there too.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and quickly, I stroll where my teammates are.

"Spence! You made it!" JJ greets me as I pull a chair next to Morgan to sit.

"We thought you weren't coming," Emily added before sipping her drink.

"I understood it was a requirement," I quipped, looking at Hotch. The aforementioned man nodded in agreement.

"It was, indeed. Have I to remind you Strauss is still mad about the whole ordeal with you stepping into a building with no vest and no gun?"

Hotch is right. Strauss made his life hell for a whole week until he notified my suspension.

I wince, remembering the incident in question.

Self-note: don't leave behind the vest and the gun again.

"You look very handsome, boy wonder," Garcia chimes, waving her hand and pointing at me.

I can't help but blush at the compliment. It's not she hasn't done it before, and I know she means well, but-

"Maybe pretty boy gets some game tonight," Morgan claps his hand on my shoulder, grinning.

That's why I don't like that kind of attention. At every chance, someone pips up and tries to play wingman or wingwoman for me. And although I appreciate their efforts, I like to move at my own pace. Even if some say my pace, it's more like a turtle's speed.

Giving him a tight-lip smile, I reach for a glass of water. I don't know how I'll survive this night.

Surprisingly, it is okay for now. I fall into conversation with Garcia and JJ, although it is more like me listening and them talking. Occasionally, I add some to the topic, and they seem receptive.

But Derek looks impatient to stand and march to a group of women talking on the opposite side of the venue, next to the bar. I don't look much into it until I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"You're oddly quiet tonight, pretty boy. What's up?" My sight darts from JJ and Penelope to Derek.

"Nothing?" I offer. My eyebrows creace. Derek snickers.

"I know what you need! Come on, let's enjoy the party and come with me to chat with those beautiful agents at the bar over there," he proposes. I shake my head.

"No. I'm good. You can go if you want. I don't think you need my help."

Derek rolls his eyes.

"Don't get dismissive with me. It'll help you to lose a little. I promise," he insists. And I know I'm losing my battle with him tonight.

"As if I had something interesting to say to them," I mumble, loud enough for Derek to hear.

"Don't say that. Surely, some would like to hear about, I don't know, oysters? And how they became a symbol of glamor or whatever. Because I'm sure you know that, right?" Derek points, grabbing an oyster from the tray a waiter offers him.

"Actually, oysters were not considered a status symbol until the 11th century, when the Crusades trunked access to seafood in Europe. Some researchers believe that-"

I'm about to explain the whole thing when Morgan cuts me off.

"See? Now, don't waste that knowledge with me, and let's share it with those gorgeous, shall we?"

I'm screwed.

I reluctantly stand to follow Derek. I know he's the best intention even if I won't tell him that. Maybe he's right, and I need to step out of my comfort zone occasionally.

As smoothly as only Morgan can be, he interrupts the conversation between three women by the bar. You would think they would return annoyed looks from the sudden interruption, but they did not. It is everything but that.

"Excuse me, beautiful ladies. Hope you don't mind some company. My friend and I thought it would be an honor to share part of your precious time tonight."

How the fuck can he do that?!

The result shocked me almost more than it impressed me. The three turn to us with flirting smiles flashing to Derek. And me?

That's new. And, of course, I have to blush furiously at that.

"Hey, handsome. Sweet talk, uh?" One of the girls teases Derek while the others giggle.

"I know I can do better, but you make me nervous, sweetheart," Morgan banters as smoothly as the beginning.

And that's it. We have their full attention now. Scratch that; Derek has their full attention now.

He asks for their names, and that's how I know the woman who spoke first is Vivian, and her friends are Julie and Ashley. The three of them work in the Counterterrorism Division.

"And who is your good-looking friend?" Ashley asks, skimming at me.

Why is she looking at me from head to toe?

Derek glances at me, and I understand it's time for me to say something.

"I'm Spencer," I wave.

Short and precise.

"Hi, Spencer. You are cute," Ashley points, and suddenly, my mouth goes dry.

As Emily once said, my IQ slashes to 60 when I'm in front of a beautiful woman. And Ashley is a beautiful woman. Her long, stylish blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin with perfect makeup, gorgeous smile, and a dress that accentuates her body in the right places. It would be stupid to say she is not attractive.

"Why don't we go to the dance floor while Ashley and Spencer get to know each other better, uh?" Derek offers to Julie and Vivian, winking at me.

Oh, Lord. Help me.

I don't think Derek or Ashley would appreciate it if I refused to stay here and run to the nearest exit. So I give Ashley a tight smile and prepare myself for whatever comes now.

"Well...?" she prompts, and I don't know what the fuck she expects me to say.

"Yeah. Nice party," I offer, hoping my attempt to small talk works.

Ashley's smile suggests it does.

"It is. Are you having fun?"

No.

"Yes! A lot! Are you?"

"Yeah. But I think it turns out better now," she says, subtly closing some distance between us with a playful look directed at me.

Is she flirting with me?

I clear my throat to appease some of my nerves. I need to cool off. If Derek can do this, I should try.

A waitress approaches us and offers some drinks. Ashley picks a glass of wine, and I prefer a flute of champagne. I don't usually drink alcohol, but I need it now.

"Slow down, boy. People would think I make you nervous," Ashley points seductively when she notices how I quickly down the liquid.

My eyes widen when she rests a hand on my chest and leans to whisper in my ear.

"I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

Okay. That sounds very straightforward.

I should feel flattered. An attractive woman is more than insinuating me right now; I barely said anything. But it doesn't feel like that.

Derek surely would tell me, 'Take it and play it, pretty boy,' but I don't feel like it. If we could engage in a kind of conversation, I would feel more comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I know what a potential one-night stand means, but I'm not good at it. That's how I am. Sue me.

I want to turn her down gently, so I do what I know to do, and people usually hate me for it: spit information.

"Compared with other mammals, like dogs and bears, humans don't have the strongest bite. Scientists measure the pressure exerted by an animal's bite in pounds per square inch or psi. The human bite force is 162 psi. The bite force of some dogs can reach 250 psi, while some bears have a bite force of over 1,000 psi. It's interesting, actually-"

Ashley is now looking at me, confused. She retreats his hand from my chest and hums, faking interest in what I'm saying.

As I go on with my info dump, I notice how Ashley changes her empty glass of wine to a filled one when a server offers it.

Aside from 'interesting,' 'oh,' and 'uhm,' she doesn't add more to the conversation - or more likely, my rambling - and by now, you would think she's tired of me. But no. For God knows what reason, she is persistent. I give her that.

Typically, I can ramble on and on, which is not the exception. The waiters and waitresses keep coming with drinks and food, and even I pick some for myself.

When they offer us a tray with oysters, I can't help but recall what Morgan told me before.

As I see Ashley ushering one to her mouth, I deliver an exciting fact about it.

"Did you know that raw oysters are still alive? Indeed, some people argue oysters might feel pain, and others say that because they don't have a central nervous system, they don't feel pain like other seafood species might."

Not looking at her, I focus on my oyster, inspecting it before continuing.

"If it's that so, the question is when they die actually. This is likely to happen when they are shucked rather than when they are chewed or swallowed. Scientists think this because an oyster's heart is right next to the bottom adductor muscle, so separating it from the shell kills it."

I should have known the lack of response wasn't due to the interest in the topic, although speaking was impossible for her. Her face's blueness and her hand on her neck now tell me something is wrong.

Fuck. She is choking.

I don't know what to do. She is choking on an oyster, and I'm paralyzed. The people around us start to scream as they see her turning blue. That picks everyone's attention, and I want to dig a hole to get into right now. But first, I should do something to help her. Before I can reach for her, a pair of arms hugs Ashley from behind and applies the Heimlich Maneuver. After a few thrusts into the abdominal area, we see the oyster fly from her mouth to somewhere on the floor.

At the same time, Vivian, Julie, and Derek rush to us to find out what is going on.

Ashley starts coughing, and some of her natural color returns to her face. The arms around her torso loosen, and that's when I notice the woman who just saved her life from choking.

Everything happens so fast that I barely register the slap across my face—Ashley's courtesy.

A collective 'Uhhh' is heard around us.

Before I can say anything, Ashley starts a rant full of anger and frustration toward me.

"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you say something like that? It's disgusting!"

Ironically, I'm speechless now.

What is wrong with talking about oysters?

"You fucking weird!" Ashley continues with her rant. It's like she has been holding it since we were left alone.

The woman who helped Ashley now looks between me and her with her eyebrow creased.

"Hey. You should take it easy. You're just recovering from-" 

She can't finish the sentence since Ashley turned to lash out at her.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I almost died because of this pathetic nerd here who can't stop rambling about alive oysters! Just thinking about it makes me sick again!"

"Could it be a hint for not eating them anymore?" I muse, gaining a chuckle from the woman - let's call her the savior - and a deadly glare from Ashley. I recoil from saying anything else, and it is the wiser.

"I should have known better than to engage my time with you. Even if you actually pack a big dick, it doesn't worth it!" she whisper-yell at me, but loud enough for Derek, Vivian, Julie, and the mystery-savior woman to hear.

I'm utterly confused and embarrassed. What have to do my dick with all of this? 

Derek is now dispersing the crowd around us as Vivian and Julie try to soothe her friend's anger, rubbing her back and arm.

I bet they see Ashley's wrath boiling and the high probability of her launching towards me to punch me. Their efforts to subdue her seem to work because, after a loud huff, Ashley only grabs her coat from Vivian's hand and spits at me: "Thanks for ruining my night!"

The three pass by my side to one of the exits venue.

I don't even know how I should feel.

I feel upset because my escape plan didn't go as planned. I feel relieved because Ashley didn't die. Hurt? Yeah, that, too. I didn't deserve a slap on my face. She calling me a pathetic nerd? Sadly, I'm not surprised. And it only confirms my theory I'm not good at this kind of setting.

With the show over and people not focused on me anymore, Derek approaches. I know what he wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. I'm done for tonight.

"Don't say it," I cut him off.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he tells me with a sympathetic look, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Sure you not," I grumble. "And what was about that comment about my… dick?" I whisper to him.

Derek's face tries to remain neutral, but I know him better.

"What did you do?" I demand to Morgan, and he sighs.

"I may or may not have suggested a rumor about your attributes."

I look at him in disbelief.

"Shut the fuck up! You did not!"

"Come on, pretty boy. It worked! You caught their attention, didn't you?"

I shake my head, trying not to snap at him in public. Morgan can see the distress I'm carrying right now and relents.

"I'm sorry, Reid. I thought it would be a good chance for you to show yourself around. You're a good kid; you deserve to have a good time."

It's useless to engage in this argument again. I understand his good intentions, but like this? No, thanks.

"I better get going," I mumble, walking backward. I'm done for the night.

"Reid..." Morgan starts, but the shake of my head cuts him off. He sighs as I turn to head to one of the exits.

Walking through one of the venue's doors, I find myself on a lateral terrace. I stop for a moment to look around. 

If there were different circumstances, I would be enjoying this view. To the front, you can see a beautiful and thick green shrubbery. Several fountains with little waterfalls and statues recreate a neoclassical garden. It is no coincidence since the property where the venue is located is a typical Jefferson's Neo-Palladian construction with high ceilings and large columns.

My architectural appreciation stops when my eyes land on a woman with her back leaning against one of the columns, her left hand resting on the concrete railing, and her right hand with a glass of wine. Her face is turned to the side, and she is observing the beautiful garden in front of her.

I know her. I've seen her before.

Although it is dark outside, the light from the venue's long windows illuminates the terrace enough.

My brain comes up with the answer in a fraction of a second.

Is the woman who saved Ashley from choking. 

After what she did, nobody even thanked her. The worst part is knowing Ashley behaved that poorly with her. It's not fair. And it's my fault.

With that in mind, I approach her.

She seems too concentrated to register I'm just a foot of distance from her. I clear my throat to call her attention.

She turns her head with a confused look at first. But she offered me a kind smile when she realized who I was.

It's my first chance to look at her; with everything happening so fast, I barely noticed her trying to talk back to Ashley moments ago. 

And now that I'm in front of her, I feel weirdly struck.

Besides her beautiful smile, her eyes hold a piercing gaze, but not the kind that frightens you. It's more like she actually sees you and gives you her undivided attention. With light makeup, her face lets you see some of her freckles. With her hair tied to one side, you can see her neck adorned with a simple gold chain with a compass-shaped pendant.

My not-so-subtle scrutiny is interrupted by her voice.

"Can I help you?" She asks, and my cheeks turn pink. But I'm here for a reason, so I clear my throat before speaking.

"Sorry. I - uh. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there," I say, pointing to the inside. "And, well, I want to apologize too. Ashley wasn't very kind to you, considering you mostly saved her life."

She tilts her head slightly, a frown forming, while contemplating what to say.

"Well," she starts. "I'll take the thanks. But I can't take the apologies."

Now, it's my turn to frown.

"Oh, okay. Uh - Why not?"

Not that she should do it. It's her right to do it or not, but I'm curious.

"Because you didn't do anything wrong to me, so you don't have to," she shrugs, like it's obvious.

"I kind of did. I mean, Ashley behaved awful, and I didn't -"

Before I can continue, she shakes her head to stop me.

"No. Don't do that. Why on earth do you want to apologize for someone else's bad manners, considering she treated you like garbage?"

She doesn't say it as if she is upset at me, more likely as if she doesn't understand why I would do that. And yes, she has a good point. But someone has to do the right thing, and that's what I say next.

"It's just the right thing to do."

She takes her time, mulling over my words and whether she believes me or not.

"Okay. You're correct. It's the right to do. And it's a shame most people don't do it. But I still believe it is not your responsibility here."

Something is telling me her statement concerns more than Ashley being impolite. But it is not my place to point that.

"But some people do. And that must count as something, I guess. "

It's curious how her look changes from pensive to more light-hearted.

"Okay. You win this time..." she trails off, not knowing how to refer to me.

"Spencer," I supply. She hums.

"You win this time, Spencer. And being that said, I accept your apology too," she added, sipping the remaining wine from her glass.

I smile, nodding appreciatively. It's a little gesture, but I feel better after what happened.

Silence settles between us, and I take that as my cue to leave. I had already taken enough of her time.

"Uh, well. Thank you again..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know her name.

"(Y/N)," she says.

"Thank you again, (Y/N). Hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

With that said, I should get on foot to leave the venue, as I had planned to do ten minutes ago, but for some reason, my feet didn't want to move, and I kept standing there. (Y/N) look at me as if I'm going to say something else due to the lack of movement on my part.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and now I have the same question for myself.

"Yeah. Yeah. Totally okay. Sorry, I'm leaving now."

Turning in my heels, I'm about to walk away when I hear (Y/N) 's voice.

"I didn't know that, you know? And, for the record, I didn't think it was disgusting."

I stop in my tracks to look at her with a raised eyebrow. When I catch what she is referring to, my eyes cast to the floor, and my cheeks turn pink again.

"If anything, I found it educative," she adds. I try to decipher if there is some teasing in her words, but I find none. She's being oddly genuine. Oddly, because I'm not used to people saying that when referring to the things I tend to ramble about.

"Thank you," I sheepishly say, my hands finding home in my pant pockets. "People don't tell me that very often."

A puff leaves (Y/N) 's lips before she says, "Ungrateful fuckers." 

I chuckle at her choice of words.

Weird. It's the first time all night that I don't want to run away from here.

"Yeah. Something like that," I agree, and she smiles. Now I'm comfortable enough to make some conversation.

"Uh, are you from Quantico?"

"Yeah. A very adrenalinal position," she prompts, and I raise an eyebrow. "Finance Division."

I can't help but snort, and she laughs. "I told you. What about you?"

"Behavioral Unit Analysis," I reply. (Y/N)' s eyes wide in recognition.

"Wow. The one and only BAU."

"You know us?"

"Sure. I wouldn't forget a unit that has its own jet. I'm the one who enters the travel expenses from all Quantico," she explains. I hum, trying to figure out the amplitude of that sole task. "Like I told you, very exciting."

She is mocking herself regarding her job. But I find it impressive for a desk job. Not all people have the skills to run financials.

"Well, I agree it is not very adrenaline but very important. I mean, we have to travel around the country all the time. Our job depends on traveling."

(Y/N) has now an amused expression on her face.

"It's nice to know someone truly values what you do. Not even our boss does it," she points before letting a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Gosh, I'm being very judgmental right now. You're going to think I spend my life complaining about everything. I do sometimes, but I'm not always like this," she explains. I shake my head.

"I'm not judging you. Everyone has the right to say what things don't like or would change about their jobs."

"Well, thanks. Although I'm sure you guys have more reasons to be concerned. You risk your life on the field every time. That's huge."

She rests the empty glass on the concrete rail, adjusting her coat around her body. The air is chiller at this time of the night.

"You know? People say that a lot. And I agree. It's a dangerous job, but it's not better than anyone's for that reason, or whatever another reason for that matter.

Her eyes are analyzing me with curiosity. I'm not sure, but it's like she's having difficulty believing what I'm saying.

"Can I ask you something, Spencer?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here tonight?"

My eyes narrow at her question. Isn't the reason obvious?

"What do you mean? It's the FBI annual gala," I point out, knowing she already knows that too. She nods.

"Precisely," she starts. "And at the risk of being impertinent, I can say this environment makes you uncomfortable. When you were with that girl talking - scratch that, when you were talking, and she looked at you, trying to devour you with her eyes - you seemed like you didn't want to be there. Above all, knowing this kind of event is basically to show off to other bureau agents, I don't think is your notion of an ideal night."

If I wasn't impressed when we started talking - which I was - I am now. 

She assumes my awe as discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep."

"No, no. You are okay. And let me tell you, your observation is completely accurate," I hasten to clarify.

"Yeah?" (Y/N) asks, and I nod earnestly.

"Yeah. Have you not considered applying for a position as a field agent?"

An amused laugh leaves her lips.

"No way! I would be a total disaster! And carrying a gun is not my idea of a dream job anymore," she points out, still laughing. 

I chuckle, but her answer makes me think. Before I can ask for clarification, she calls me out.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question."

I didn't, although the answer is simple.

"My boss made me."

(Y/N) scoff in disbelief.

"What? Did he put a gun against your chest?"

Well, thinking better about it, maybe the answer is not that simple.

"Not quite, but you can say I felt it that way."

I tell (Y/N) how my team always worries about my lack of social interaction, which isn't that accurate if you ask me. However, some of the pressure of doing things that people my age would generally do is finally getting me and pushing me out of my comfort zone.

She listens to me with undivided attention and seems to understand what I'm talking about.

"Peer pressure, uh? I can relate to that to some extent," she agrees.

"That's why are you here tonight, too?"

My question makes her let out a deep sigh as her eyes focus on the garden beside us for a second.

"Not really. Who knows, maybe I do enjoy being here?"

(Y/N) phrases it more like a question than a statement. And I can tell she doesn't believe it either.

"Enjoying being apart from the crowd, in a lateral terrace barely illuminated and exposed to the chilly night air? I can think of several other places to do the same thing without the trouble of a gala environment."

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, which tells me I'm right.

"Not fair, you are a certified profiler," (Y/N) complains, faking annoyance.

"And you haven't answered my question either," I remind her. She rolls her eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Well, let's say I came here to prove myself something. Spoiler alert: I failed. That's why I have been mostly spending the night here."

I hum, knowing she is vague in explaining, but I'm not in a place to pry.

"Look, I would tell you more about it, but I'm sure you have to return inside. Your teammates are surely wondering where you are."

I can't help but snort, and she raises an eyebrow at my reaction.

"I'm sorry, but your assumption is far from reality. Considering what happened inside, they think I ran home. What I was actually doing before spotting you here," I admit.

"Ha! So it's true I'm holding you back but for a different motive," she triumphantly concludes.

"I didn't say that!" I complain with a hint of exasperation, to which she breathly laughs.

"I know. I know. I'm messing with you. Honestly? There are two reasons why I'm avoiding this topic right now. First, I don't think you want to hear the mess my life is these days, and second, I would kill for a coffee and a sandwich-" she pauses, stifling a chuckle before continuing. "Considering oysters are out of the table."

"Oh, come on!" I groan, seeing how she falls into a fit of laughter, so contagious that I can't help but join her.

"Sorry, sorry. Not very kind of me, I know. But I couldn't help it," she apologizes, still giggling. I bit my lower lip in amusement.

"Alright. It's okay. It's frankly funny," I admit, my words leaving my mouth before I can think of them. "Well, I could tell you more of those moments in my life - many of them - if you let me join you with the coffee and sandwich. I know a good place that is open at this hour. And you can tell me what kind of thing you wanted to prove yourself tonight."

Spencer Reid. Is that you? 

I'm surprised by my sudden confidence, and it seems (Y/N) is, too. She hums, scrubbing her fingers under her chin while contemplating my offer.

"Okay, I'll take it. But don't tell me later that I didn't warn you about the mess of my life," she points her index finger at me.

"I won't. I promise."

-

Grabbing a cab is relatively easy since the FBI considered transportation outside the venue for people who won't be driving.

The fifteen-minute ride allows us to have a light conversation. That's how I know (Y/N) has been in the bureau for almost four years. Being an Accountant by profession and with a Master of Science in Finance from Georgetown, she was recruited for the FBI precisely considering her outstanding skills in the financial department.

She asks me about my trajectory in the FBI as well. I tell her about Gideon and the start of my life at the BAU.

Arriving at our destination, I insist on paying for the ride despite her resistance. I assured her that she could invite me to the coffee.

It must be a curious image for the patrons to see two fully gala-dressed people stepping inside a diner at eleven pm.

We sit on a bench facing each other.

A girl who can't hide her curious expression comes to take our order. As promised, (Y/N) asks for two coffees and two sandwiches.

"So, Agent Gideon recruited you for the FBI. Why did you accept? I would have thought you would be more comfortable in academics," (Y/N) asks, stirring a spoon of sugar in her coffee.

"I thought the same at the time. But Gideon saw something I didn't. He knew I wouldn't settle with learning and teaching for the rest of my life, and I needed it to be useful beyond that environment."

I explain how profiling has helped us to catch unsubs around the country and how worthy it is for me. I can't think of myself doing anything else. (Y/N) listen to me with raptor interest; it is nice to be heard that way.

"You know? I haven't heard someone speak passionately about their work in a long time. It's good you feel that way," she says with a hint of longing that doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"It is bold of me to assume you don't like what you do?"

Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm curious. And (Y/N) doesn't seem bothered by my question. Shifting in her seat, she leans, resting her elbows on the table.

"Not bold at all, mister profiler," she teases. "But not always has been that way. I would say I started to feel uncomfortable not long ago. A couple of months, perhaps?"

I hum, thinking about what could have made her feel that way.

"It has to do with why you were at the gala tonight?"

She chuckles, nodding.

"Kind of. Remember I told you I wanted to prove myself something? Well, it has to do with what has been bothering me," she prefaces.

(Y/N) relates how things have gone well since she got into the FBI. She felt respected, wanting to do many things and learn everything she could. 

That's how she met her boyfriend.

"I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, much less at work. I wanted to be professional, separating my private life from my job. But he was so attentive and supportive. He always told me he was happy I felt fulfilled with what I was doing. He was so perfect I thought I had found my soulmate."

I don't know exactly where she is going, but sure as hell, that prick wasn't her soulmate.

"What happened?"

"One day, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. After two years of relationship, he started with harsh comments and criticism about everything I did and didn't do."

A humorless chuckle escapes her lips.

"I should have noticed. By then, he was promoted from desk duty and junior trainee to field agent. He had always wanted it, and I felt so happy for him. But that changed everything."

(Y/N) tells me about how her boyfriend stopped listening to her, and instead, every topic of conversation turned to his job, implying - sometimes saying it explicitly - that it was more important than hers.

"It's not only the fact we stopped communicating; it was realizing how low he thought about me and my accomplishments. At first, I tried to understand. Of course, he was dazed by this new life, full of danger and adrenaline. I could understand it. But when he started comparing me to his female colleagues and the things they were doing, way more important than the ones I was doing, it made me insecure."

(Y/N) takes time to collect her thoughts, sipping the remaining coffee from the cup.

"The insecurities got the best of me. At some point, I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. I knew it was irrational, but I believed him. I even thought about changing my career and training to be a field agent. Good thing we broke up before I could do that," she admits.

"What stopped you? I mean, like you're telling this, you were going to change for him," I ask. She cast her gaze, averting mine. Her cheeks turn pink.

"I don't like to admit it, but the reason we broke up wasn't because I realized how stupid the situation was. We broke up because he cheated on me. I discovered it two months ago, breaking the camel's back."

Fuck. That prick was not meant to be her soulmate. And I feel the urge to have one or two words with him right now.

"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I manage to say. (Y/N) shakes her head.

"Nah. If anything, I'm glad it happened. Even if it broke my heart."

"He was at the gala, right?" (Y/N) nods.

"With the coworker that he chose to cheat on me. His current girlfriend."

Everything makes perfect sense now. (Y/N) was trying to prove to herself that the wound had healed. And from what she said earlier, it didn't turn that way.

She bitterly chuckles.

"Yeah. It's pathetic, I know."

Spencer, do something.

"No! It's not. Unfortunately, cheating is not uncommon, particularly in men. In 2020, IFS released a report stating that 20% of men have admitted to cheating, and only 10% have. In 2021, the Health Testing Centers asked 441 people who admitted infidelity to their partners and asked how long it took for them to tell their partners about it. 47.7% of the respondents told their partner within a week that they'd cheated. 26.6% of those have waited for a month, and 25.7% took six months or longer to tell their partner about the infidelity. And 60% of them said the affair started in a work environment."

And then again, the rambling. But instead of giving me a blank look, (Y/N) seems to consider what I just said.

"Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about it then. Anyway, it hasn't been easy to get out of this. I thought going to the gala and forcing myself to see them together would be enough to get a closure," she reflects.

"But it still hurts," I supply, making (Y/N) hum.

"Yeah. I'm not ready, and it sucks. Not for him, but for me. I hate feeling so out of place, so dissatisfied with everything," (Y/N) retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Her eyes look sad, and I want to do something to fix it, although I know that nothing I can say would be enough. Maybe joking will at least get her off the topic.

"And there I was talking about oysters all night," I sigh, feigning disapproval. Genuine laughter escapes her lips.

I didn't know that making her laugh could fill my heart so much with satisfaction.

"That's life," she adds, now checking the time on her cell phone. "I think I'll get going," she announces, collecting her things and preparing to stand.

"Can I walk you home? It's very late already," I ask.

"Oh no, don't worry about me. My building is not far from here."

I know she doesn't want to cause trouble, but it makes me uneasy about what could happen to her walking alone at this hour.

Thank you, BAU.

"Please?" I insist. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you already fed up with me?" she asks curiously.

"Non yet," I grin.

Not having the energy to put up a fight, she accepts my offer, and after paying the bill, we leave the restaurant.

The night is colder now, and both of us walk in silence with our hands in our pockets.

I can't know what exactly she's thinking, but at least I can't stop thinking about tonight. For someone like me, it's hard to fall into spontaneity, but with (Y/N), it wasn't a problem. That amazes me, and I like it at the same time.

When she stops walking, I get out of my thoughts.

"Here," she says, looking at the building we are standing by. "Thank you for walking with me," (Y/N) states, smiling. It's the same warm smile she offered when I found her on the venue's terrace a couple of hours ago.

"Of course. It's the less I could do."

And I mean it. She saved my night in so many ways she doesn't even know.

"Well, I need to say it was a pleasure to share this shit of a night with you and turned it less shitty," she says, grinning and satisfied with her remark.

I laugh at her statement. I couldn't have said it better.

"Thank you. It's the best compliment I have had in a long time," I joke, making (Y/N) giggle.

"You are welcome."

I have the question on the tip of my tongue. I would love to see her again, but what if she doesn't think it's worth it? I opt for the vaguest thing that comes to mind.

"See you around?"

(Y/N) thinks about it for a moment. Am I being too obvious? Before falling into a spiral, she smiles at me again.

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

I can't help but feel the excitement pouring from me.

"Great! Well, I - I'll go now. Good night (Y/N)," I say goodbye, slowly walking backward.

"Good night, Spencer," she retorts before entering the building.

I watch her disappear behind the door, and I think that while neither of us got what we wanted, maybe we got what we needed.

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

Next -> Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

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A/N 2: I'm excited to know your thoughts about this!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity

[ickie]

♡ missed signals \ cl16.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader summary: best friends who have feelings for each other !! scary !! \ word count: 1.1k warnings: there's like 2 sentences of steam but they literally just make out idk ! if u don't like cheesy men or reader being oblivious ... this will not be 4 u !notes: i wrote this because i cannot sleep so if it makes no sense... blame the lack of sleep not me ! feel free to leave any feedback here !

your fingernails dug into the plam of your hand, eyebrows creasing together as you stared at your best friend, the person that you would sacrifice anything for... hell, the person that you would go to jail for. you coud pinpoint the exact day things began to change, and that was the day that you friendship with charles had begun to turn into something far from platonic.

it was barley a year ago, you and charles had decided to go to a party, and maybe it was a bad idea when charles had been insisting that he needed the time to recouperate... but what better way to recouperate than with some alcohol and some quality time with friends and strangers alike?

♡♡♡

your hands had begun to get cold from the condensation that was forming on the outside of your glass, a pout taking over your glossed lips. "charlie," you drew out the last syllable, standing on your tiptoes so that he could maybe hear you over the music. "i'm bored." you hummed, head turning to the side as you stared him down.

"and what am i supposed to do about that, mon loulou?" he questioned back, raising an amused eyebrow at you as your shoulders shrugged at the taller male. "can we dance, do something please! i'm dying over here!" your dramatics didn't go unnoticed, charles letting out a laugh at your actions.

his hand grabbed yours, pulling you towards the crowded dance floor. your hips swayed easily to the music, the feeling of charles behind you wasn't foreign. it wasn't weird for best friends to be grinding on each other in the middle of a dance floor, right? because for you and charles, it definitely wasn't. the feeling of his hands on your waist caused you to throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as the two of you danced until your boredom was somewhat satiated.

shortly after, though, you began to feel overheated - the alcohol you had consumed too quickly hitting you like a ton of bricks. "charlie," his nickname came out like a whimper, your cheeks flushing. "i'm hot, can we go outside, please?" you asked the question as you were already moving away from him, eyeing the door that led to a balcony.

you let out a relieved sigh as the cooler air hit your sweaty skin, hands coming up to run through your hair. "i dunno what happened," you laughed, leaning against the railing. "i was fine and then i got hot, and not in a good way..." you joked as charles slotted himself next to you, your head resting on his shoulders. your eyes closed, listening to him speak as you hummed out responses, only half way listening.

one thing led to another, and you found your lips on charles', you hands in his hair and his hands placed firmly on your hips, not letting you move away - not like you wanted to. the feeling of his lips against yours was something you hadn't really thought of before, but... they were something unlike any one else you had ever kissed. they were soft, gentle... and all you knew in that moment was that you wanted to keep kissing the boy you had considered your best friend.

charles pulled away though, a bit too soon for your liking as you let out a whine of protest. "i," he bit his lip, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. you tried to decipher what emotion he was feeling, but his face was eerily empty. "we should go back inside." he stepped away from you, shoving his hands into his pockets. you stayed quiet, eyes finding the floor as you nodded your head. what the fuck just happened?

as soon as you got inside, you ordered yourself an uber, saying your goodbyes to your (very tipsy) friends who had tried to get you to stay longer, but you made up something about not feeling good, not like it was a lie, though. the feeling of regret, the feeling of unwantedness... it had you feeling sick to your stomach.

♡♡♡

"you wanted me to take that as a sign you had feeling for me?" the quesiton came out before you could stop it, a hand slapping over your mouth as you laughed. "you ran away from me, charles!"

"i was... embarassed, okay?" one of his hands came up and scratched the back of his neck. "i didn't want my first time kissing you to be on the balcony at some club, mon ange. it should've been something more important than that. but you really didn't think anything was different after vegas?"

♡♡♡

what happens in vegas, stays in vegas? or at least that's what they said... and that's what you told yourself as you led charles to your hotel room feeling the urge to congratulate him for making the podium.

his lips were on your neck as soon as the door was shut, your back snugly pushed against the wall. a whimper passed through your lips as his teeth grazed a sensitive spot, your hands pulling at whatever they could find purchase on.

"charlie, i need more..."

"oh, mon ange, you're going to get plenty."

♡♡♡

thinking back on the memory of vegas, you felt heat creep up into your chest and your cheeks. did you really miss these signs of charles trying to make moves on you..? there's no way, right? "what happens in vegas stays in vegas!" you counter, holding your hands up in defense.

"mon ange." he deadpans, a look of are you dumb? crossing his features.

"okay, okay... maybe i should've looked more into it but you know how i am!" you step closer to him, a hand reaching out to graze at his forearm. "but, charlie... if you really wanted to be with me you should've just told me..." you let out a giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "or, i dunno, asked me on a date? or just plain asked me out?" there's a teasing edge to your tone, a smile pulling at your lips.

"i'm not doing that," he scoffs, his hands pulling at your waist to pull you close to him. "you're mine, mon ange... you might not have realized it, but, it's gonna be me and you for however long your willing to deal with me." he leans down to kiss you, but you reach a hand up to stop him.

"that was the cheesiest shit i've ever heard, charles." you make a mock disgusted face before dropping your hand. "but, you can kiss me now, if you'd like.."

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn���t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[lunajay33]

Future🍂

Summary: Daryl’s the only one that’s ever made you feel loved so when you get separated during the apocalypse you feel lost without him

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Daryl was there for me growing up and I was there for him, when his dad acted out on him I was there to hold him through the night, when a guy would break my heart he’d do everything he could to cheer me up, we were inseparable, so we saved money and bought a little house in the woods together, it was peaceful everything was just settling for us, eventually he asked me to be his girl and it was the happiest day of my life

Then came the apocalypse, thankfully I was with him when everything happened and he took me to the quarry away from the town staying far away from big crowds, we shared a tent and I’d grip him tight at night scared that if I closed my eyes he’d be gone in the morning or something would happen and he’d turn into a walker

Eventually we made it to the farm, life seems like it can be good here, there’s water, land to grow crops, chickens and livestock, even after everything that’s happened including Daryl’s accident I’ve felt a sense of calm for once

“Hey sunshine ya doin okay?” Daryl asked as he sat next to me around the low burning fire as he handed me a plate of bacon and eggs

“Oh yeah I’m fine just thinking about how we use to live, remember all the plans I had for our home, all the recipes I wanted to make, all the trips I wanted to experience with you, a family…….” I said the last part under my breath but the man had the ears of a bat

“Ya wanted a family…..with me?” He asked a bit of shock laced in his voice

“Of course D why would I, have a little girl running around with crazy dark hair like yours, seeing you play with her, maybe getting a dog you like, I just had so much more for us, but I’m still grateful that we were able to escaped together”

“Maybe one day we can still have that, ya never know sunshine, I wish I coulda given ya more”

“You give me plenty Daryl”

Everything was happening so quickly one minute the barns on fire the next there are walkers swarming the farm, I tried to get to Daryl but I got cornered by walkers having to run into the woods, my heart was beating so fast that was all I could hear, running for what seemed like hours till the sun started to rise, eventually I couldn’t hear anymore groans and moans of walkers, I slumped against a tree exhausted when I realized I’m in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to get back or where to even start looking for Daryl

That heavy feeling gripped my heart voiding me of any emotion but despair, I walked and walked and walked down the long winding road heading South, making stops for any supplies left at random houses or stores I came by, 2 months into be on the road I became sick, not being able to keep anything down, exhausted more from the long days of walking, coming to realize I was pregnant, it gave me a little bit of hope knowing that if I truly never found Daryl again atleast I’d have a part of him still

The months dragged on until my belly was plump with a little Dixon, luckily I found a house unscathed from seekers, the food stocked high which made sure I was malnourished during this pregnancy, I loaded up a car with the groceries and drove, everything worked for a few months, I am guessing I’m about 7 months now and the food was running low and the gas was running out, slowly my car came to a halt, I got out feeling the Georgia heat when I heard running water, I ventured into the trees with my canteen finding a a small man made waterfall, I filled the canteen when I heard shots, looking forward over a hill I see a prison, people walking around, I was secure no walker inside, distracted I didn’t notice where I was stepping and stepped right onto a nail on the train tracks making my fall and bust my eyebrow open, my knees ached and my hands were bloody, I pulled my self up screaming when I ripped my foot off the nail, the scream alerted near by walkers until they swarmed around me, I was scared and weak, this couldn’t be how I go I still haven’t found Daryl and I had to protect this baby

I gathered as much strength as possible running towards the prison gates, praying they would take me in and help just for today, I made it to the gates exhausted with a trail of walkers behind me when a woman with dreads appeared at the gates

“Please let me in I need help….please I’m begging” I cried holding my belly seeing her eyes soften as she noticed my baby bump, she yanked open the gates right in time to let me in and shut it on the walkers

“Come on hun let’s get you cleaned up” she smiled leading me up to the prison, we almost made it inside when I heard the familiar grumble of the bike I use to ride on all the time, late at night when everyone in town was asleep Daryl would take me out roaming around

I turned my heart leaping every second that passed, until I knew for sure it was him, and it was I could recognize that hair anywhere, he parked the bike and looked around till his eyes landed on me, and he did something I’ve never seen him do before, he dropped to his knees crying

I wobbled over to him still in pain but I didn’t care, I dropped gently to my knees infront of him holding his face in my hands

“I can’t believe I found you Daryl, it’s really you” I weeped as took me shoulders and held me tight against his chest

“I looked for ya everywhere I swear I never gave up, that day when ya weren’t with anyone after the farm it felt like my life was over, but I knew ya were still out there, god I love ya”

“I love you too Daryl, so much”

“Sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment but your girl need some medical attention” that’s when Daryl noticed my busted eyebrow and all the blood over me

He picked me up in his arms bringing me inside to Hershel

“The hell happened to ya angel?” He asked as Hershel attended to my wounds

“I stepped on a nail and fell in just glad I didn’t land on the baby”

“Baby?” Daryl face drained of color standing there frozen

“You didn’t notice? I’m pregnant D” I said flattening down my shirt to make my belly more prominent

“I guess I was just to stunned”

“You seem a lot more healthier than the Lori, how did you manage?” Hershel asked as Daryl came to sit by me squeezing my hand, something he did when he was anxious

“I found a fully stocked house, only just ran out of food today”

“I’d say you’re pretty lucky lil lady, now I’ll give you two some space”

Daryl looked at me with such love mixed with worry

“I can’t believe yer pregnant and it’s mine?” He asked gently rubbing the bump feeling the baby kick

“Of course it’s yours D, you know I’ve only ever been with you, I’ll only ever want you”

“I’ll keep ya both safe, I’ll give ya that dream life ya wanted fer us, I promise”

“I just need you Daryl, I just want you”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt3

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, more shit talking

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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“I’m sorry mate, WHO SAID THAT?!” all sense of calmness decimated from Lando’s demeanor.

Everyone’s gaze bouncing between Lando, Logan, Zak and Me. The only thought in my mind throughout this whole altercation ‘Where did Zak get that I wanted Logan back’

Zak’s face went pale as he obviously wasn’t expecting to be outed like this. “N-no that-that’s not wuh-what I- We just had a conversation about their daughter and she”

The glare of Lando’s face was enough for Zak to stop talking. Zak knew he was in the wrong for butting into something that had nothing to do with him.

“You have NO RIGHT to talk to my girlfriend about how she lives her life! We're happy and that's all you should care about!" Lando should've known better than to yell at his CEO but Zak was way past overstepping a boundary and Lando was having none of it. "C'mon mate! I won't my first grand prix, I'm supposed to be out here celebrating with my lovely girlfriend and the rest of you guys and YOU'RE RUINING IT ZAK!"

The whole bar now is paying attention to the incident happening. People are whipping out their phones to record the whole thing, some even try to crowd around us hoping to provoke a fight between the two.

"DAMN BRO, YOU GON LET A BRIT TAKE YO PREGNANT GIRL? I WOULDN'T TAKE THAT SHIT IF I WAS YOU" some random dude yelled, phone in hand recording with the flash on further aggravating Lando

"Mate, this has nothing to do with you so just walk away." Lando said smacking the phone out of the random dude's hand, which then prompted him to start swinging in Lando's direction.

The guy was fairly tipsy so instead of any of the punches he's thrown landing on Lando, the guy lost his footing resulting none of his punches landing on me and THAT prompted Lando to start throwing hands with him too.

A crowd quickly formed around us, everyone was so busy trying to get the best angle for this bar fight laid out in front of them that none of them realized that they were literally trapping a just about 8 1/2 month pregnant woman in a sea of people.

The grid was too busy trying to pull Lando off the guy but once one guy got hit they started swinging until another one of the drunk guys friends jumped in and then it became a big mob mess. Some of the WAGS that were there retreated out of the bar, before realizing that a very much pregnant Y/N was not with them.

"GUYS! WHERE'S Y/N??" Alex shouted looking around hoping she just missed her and that she was out here safe and not in the middle of a literal bar fight.

After no one seemed to have an eye on Y/N, Alex peaked inside the window of the bar in hopes of finding Y/N before she gets trampled. No more than 15 seconds of peaking through the glass, Alex spots Y/N and the big crowd of drunken men fighting around her.

Back on the inside of the bar, I'm surrounded by men throwing punches and I'm trying so hard to not get hit again. I feel a hand pulling on my arm which prompt me to whip my head to see who it is.

"C'mon Y/N/N, you're gonna get hit again, it's not safe. Not for you and our daughter." I turn and see Logan attempting to shield me with his body as he yanks me up and protects me as he's guiding me to a safer part of the bar, pulling out a stool so I could sit down and he could evaluate whether or not I had an injury. Before I could even sit down on the stool, I feel a gush of wetness between my legs.

My eyes widen in horror as I look down at the mess I’ve just made as a contraction hits me “OH MY GODDD. NOT NOWWWWW” I hurl over in pain as Logan places both of his arms around me to steady me.

“Okay pretty girl, we have to get you to the hospital. let’s go, nice slow steps” Logan says as he rubs the small of my back, before looking back at Lando still mid fight.

Alex, who was watching my every movement like a hawk, quickly opens the bar door “OMG YOUR WATER BROKE? GET IN MY CAR” Alex and Logan both guided me into the “LILY, GO GET LANDO AND MEET US AT THIS HOSPITAL”

I was sat in the back seat with Logan as he was helping me breathe through my contractions and letting me squeeze his hand when the pain became too much.

-

I’ve been in active labor for 2 hours which means with every contraction I think ‘this is it. babygirl is coming right now’ and each time it’s a false alarm. Something about this contraction felt different, Logan could sense it too given that the way I squeezed his hand for this contraction was very much different from the ones prior.

Although this is my second time giving birth, this one felt so much more different then when I was giving birth to my son. After an excruciatingly long 2 minutes of this contraction I heard the door burst open and in runs a sweaty, bruised/cut open nose Lando with the facial expressions reading “please don’t tell me you had her already”

“I didn’t have her, don’t you worry. I would’ve kiAHHHHHHHH LOGAN SHES COMING. SOMEONE GET THE NURSE, I CAN FEEL HER COMING” in one swift motion Logan helps me sit up and breathe through this contraction while Lando yells for a L&D (labor & delivery) nurse.

“Hi honey, she shouldn’t be coming yet but let’s see how dial- OH MY GOSH HALF HER BODY IS O-” the poor nurse tried to be so calm and nice about this but when she lifted up the blanket she was met with my baby halfway out of my body and in one last push, mine and Logan’s daughter was born.

The sound of a silence filled room which triggered me, reminding me too much of the scene I had to endure 2 years ago but before I could scream and question what was wrong with my daughter, a beautiful cry ended up filling a once silent room.

Exhaustion hit me in waves and I plopped back to rest, closing my eyes before I feel lips on my forehead.

“Thank you so much for bringing my babygirl into this world. You’re so strong. I love you so much.” Logan murmurs against my temple which causes Lando to get very upset but given the circumstances, he lets it slide.

“Okay mom, here’s your little precious bundle of joy” my nurse, Kinley whispers as she hands me my baby.

One look at her and you can tell she’s Logan’s daughter, she’s a spitting image of her dad. Blonde hair, green eyes, she even has light freckles.

“What do you want to name her Logan?” I whisper, almost afraid that if I speak any louder that this’ll all fade and I’d be that once empty, soulless mess I was.

“Yelena Ivy Sargeant” I can’t believe that Logan remembered the name I had chosen when I thought our first pregnancy was a girl, I’d only mentioned the name twice before we found out he was a boy

“you remembered” a sigh escapes my lips as I look intensely in his eyes

“I never forgot, that name made you so happy.” one of Logan’s hands found a place on my cheek before silently asking for permission to hold his daughter, which I gracefully handed her over.

“What do you think about her name Lando?” I ask as I turn my head to my boyfriend who’s stood on the opposite side of bed than Logan is.

“I have no say because that’s yours and Logan’s decision but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a beautiful name” Lando’s lips find a place on my temple while a hand strokes my hair “hey i’m gonna step outside and let them know that little miss Yelena Ivy is now apart of the family” lando places one more quick kiss on my forehead before grabbing one of my hands, kissing it too and leaving.

After Lando left, the room fell in a comfortable silence. Just Logan, Yelena and Me enjoying each other’s company.

“she’s so beautiful” Logan whispers as he plants a small, delicate kiss on the top of her head

“she looks just like you” I smile, the first genuine smile I’ve given Logan in lord knows how many months and he smiles right back at me before gently bouncing Yelena as she coos.

As I looked in Logan’s eyes when he smiled back at me before he turned his attention back to our baby, something felt different.

I wish I could capture this moment in time right here, where everything felt so right, so normal. Nothing could ruin this moment, not when I felt like I had it all. A well paying job, my daughter, a man who loved both of us unconditionally, and for a moment i did have it all except for the fact that Logan and I weren’t together anymore and that one fact did ruin the moment.

When Logan handed Yelena back to me, he whispered “You’ve given me the greatest gift anyone could’ve ever given me and I will spend eternity trying to right my wrongs and win you back, even if it’s not relationship wise, I can’t have my daughters mother, the love of my life mad at me forever” tears welled up in my eyes as one thought crossed my mind when he mentioned ‘the love of my life’

why did my heart just flutter?

HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3333333

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Feyd-rautha x Atreides reader headcanons pt.3

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

- the black sun burned on the sand of the arena, which was soaked with the blood of the slaves killed in honor of yours and Na-Barons engagement

 - the Atreides were appalled at how many lives were lost just to celebrate

 - Feyd was standing in the middle of the bloodied bodies, staring intently at his betrothed, who was sitting next to his uncle

 - he made his way towards the tower with quick steps and when he reached just below the spot he dropped to one knee and looked up at the figure of his betrothed

 - I was confused as to what he was waiting for and why all the people watching this fight were suddenly silent and watching you with the same focus as na-baron

 - the baron's huge hand landed on your shoulder, " He is waiting for his prize Lady Atreides."

 he grunted in your ear and nodded to the slave who was handing me the knife. My confused expression must have told the baron that I had no idea what to do.,, He shed blood for you in the arena, now you must go through, now you need to spill yours blood for him."

 - I approached the edge of the balcony and looked down at the waiting Feyda, whose eyes were wide in anticipation.

 - I cut my hand with a sharp knife, held it out in front of me so that the blood could fall freely.

 - but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Feyd-rauth as he swallowed my blood as it dripped onto his lips

 - after a while Feyd stood up and shouted something in the Harkonnen language, which I didn't understand, but the crowd went wild, thanks to the words and shouted the same words as my future husband.

 - the baron laughed behind me and pointed out, "My lady they are shouting for you, they are shouting for their na-baroness."

 - at that moment I was filled with pride and excitement

 - in the end it won't be so bad to marry him, there was still the boy in him who carried me on his back when i got hurt

 - the morning of the wedding arrived and the servants were swarming everywhere to prepare everything in time

 - the wedding was supposed to be mainly in House Harkonnen style, but my father was able to talk the baron into allowing one tradition of House Atreides, that the bride and groom have a net soaked in water draped over their heads during the ceremony to bind the new couple together into a happy future.

 - this tradition was one of the oldest in Caladan and I desperately wanted to follow it, I didn't want the whole wedding to be based on my future husband's lineage, but I wanted to have a piece of my heritage there as well.

 - the whole day passed too quickly and before I knew it I was standing in front of the door of the ceremony hall.

 - my father had tears in his eyes and gently kissed my forehead before he offered his arm and we both walked towards the altar.

 - Feyd was happy, he knew from the first moment he saw her that she would be his. Even if he had to start a bloody war because of her, he would do it. And now he was finally going to have her, watching her float to him on her father's arm.

 - as if in a dream he stretched out his hand to her and helped her climb up to him, he didn't even notice when someone threw a wet net over them and cold water started running down his neck, he didn't notice the words of the man who was giving them away. He snapped out of his stupor, when he and his soon-to-be wife were invited to pour their blood into cups and drink each other's blood. He didn't even notice the blade that cut my palm, I could only watch her as she slowly swallowed my life-giving liquid.

 - Oh how beautiful her lips looked when red blood glittered on them

 - her blood was sweet I wondered what her next fluid would be so sweet. Now finally came the favorite part of Harkonnen weddings, namely the hunt.

 -,, If I were you, I would run away, my na-baroness."

[annwrites]

dance with me.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & billy run into one another at the halloween party

— tags: dancing, billy pining

— tw: drinking

— word count: 2,390

— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. i know it prob doesn't make much sense for it to be, as this takes place at the end of october, & that series clearly takes place in the middle of summer, & i stated in it that billy had only been in hawkins 2 months before he & reader ran away. but we're going to pretend like it fits anyway lol.

if any of this is inaccurate to what happened during the ep which featured the halloween party, it's bc it's been a few yrs since i watched season 2.

pay attention for an easter egg (song they dance to)!

You have half-a-mind to turn back around and go back home. But in no way is being there preferable, either. You’d vowed to yourself that you were going to have a good time tonight. Well, at the very least a halfway-decent one. Even if you were completely out of your depth—your comfort zone. You’d never gone to a party before. Solitude was where you thrived. Around other people you just sort of…froze up. 

But, he’d been on a tear this last week. Had broken a couple of plates and a picture frame in a drunken fury just two nights ago. You needed a night away—just a few hours—a reprieve. Even if it was going to be surrounded by other drunks. At least these were fellow kids, if nothing else. And they wouldn’t be wanting to take things out on you if it turned out alcohol didn’t suit them. Unlike someone else.

You glance to Nancy at your side, then to the domicile ahead—thumping music blaring loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk—and silently follow along behind her as the two of you head inside. 

Once you’ve passed the threshold, she turns back to you. “I’m going to look for Steve! He should be here already!” She yells over the deafening rock music.

“Want me to help and look for him, too?”

She nods fervently, and the two of you split up.

You make your way through throngs of people—couples making out, friends joking with one another; a boy who’s already half-drunk nearly spilling his beer on you—before you spot a door leading into the backyard. 

Unless he’s outside…Nancy may very-well have to find him all on her own, because you were absolutely not going back in there just to be squished between sweaty, hormonal adolescent bodies again.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

That opinion only cements itself further when you step onto the back patio, shutting the door firmly behind you, and look straight ahead to see Billy Hargrove doing a keg-stand as a crowd of your peers stand around him chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug!”.  He stands back on two feet once again, puckering his lips, spitting beer into the air and you roll your eyes. Those surrounding him start cheering and patting him on the back.

Like getting drunk is something to celebrate. 

And of course he’s shirtless. Because a leather jacket and jeans is obviously a Halloween costume. 

Just as you begin to turn away, arms now crossed, wondering if you shouldn’t now go back inside, Billy stops licking his lips, and laughing, or so much as paying attention to the other obnoxious idiots surrounding him when he sets eyes on you. 

Why the hell were you wearing pajamas to a damn Halloween party? Was that really supposed to constitute being a costume? Then again, he shouldn’t be complaining. You’re not wearing bottoms. He suddenly decides he likes whoever the hell the character is.

He shoves past those around him—which even includes numerous girls with hearts in their eyes—and makes his way over to you instead. 

He grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to him as he stares down at you with a smirk. “Well, well, look who it is.” 

His eyes trail from your bare legs, back to your eyes, and you feel ready to squirm away from his grip. 

He cocks his head to the side then. “Who the hell are you dressed as, anyway?”

You pull your arm away from him. “Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

He raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You shrug. “She was an actress. Before our time.”

He gives you a sultry look. “Well, whoever she was, she was clearly one hot chick.”

You blink up at him for a moment. 

“What? Not going to try and guess who I am?”

He watches as your eyes trail along his body and his jaw clenches at the sight of you taking him in. He hopes you like what you see. 

Until you gaze back up to him with an indifferent look on your face, the fire quickly extinguished.

“I feel like you just wanted an excuse to walk around shirtless.”

A corner of his mouth tugs down in a frown. “You’re one to talk.”

“I have a shirt on.”

He glances down to your legs, then back into your eyes with a raised brow. “Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?”

He leans an arm against the side of the house. 

“Not really,” you reply looking behind him.

“C’mon, one guess. Maybe I’ll reward you if you get it right.”

You look back at him then, and he can’t believe he’s actually piqued your interest with that. 

“Do I get to choose the prize?”

He heart skips a beat. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

You study him again. “Let me guess… A greaser, from The Outsiders?”

He licks his lips. “But which one?”

It’s so incredibly obvious. At least to you. “Dallas?”

“Winner, winner,” he says, leaning the least bit toward you. “So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?”

“Stop pulling my hair in class.”

He snorts. “That’s likely.”

You roll your eyes. Waste of time, clearly.

“He was damn good in that movie, wasn’t he?” He just throws it out there to keep you a bit longer.

“Hm?” You ask, looking behind him again. 

“Matt Dillon.”

You look back at him and he could swear you blush a little. On the one hand, maybe he should feel flattered since he’d dressed as his character. On the other, it’s clearly the actor that you have the hots for. Not him. No, never fucking him. Why does he try so goddamn hard with you?

“The book was better. But Matt certainly made the movie worth watching,” you say with a smile.

He frowns. “What? No love for my man, Ponyboy?” The blond, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

You glance behind him again. 

“If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey,” he says, smirking.

“I’m looking for Steve, actually.”

His smile drops instantly, arms crossing. “The hell do you want with him?”

You glance back to Billy for just a moment. “Stay golden, Billy,” you stay, going to step past him, until he grabs your wrist.

You look down to where he’s now touching you. Gently, but firmly, then back up to him. “Let go.”

He sneers. “The fuck is it with you, huh? I mean, what is it with him? What does he have that-” He stops himself short and watches as your brows furrow.

Too much. He’d drank too much.

“You realize he’ll never go for you, right? Too stuck up Nancy’s bony-ass instead.”

Did…did he think you liked Steve? Oh God…did Nancy ever think that as well? “I’m trying to help Nancy find him.”

He softens a little, thumb rubbing against your wrist. “I say we leave her to it, then.” 

His smirk returns and you mentally groan at whatever is about to come out of his smart mouth. 

“How about you and I take off and go make our own party?”

You roll your eyes, wrenching your wrist away. “I’d really rather not.”

He watches as you walk away, enjoying the view. 

It’s perhaps an hour later before Billy finally bothers coming inside, looking for a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, and it’s after he’s found one that he enters the living room and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, staring up at Nancy and Steve wrapped around each other, talking. 

His jaw clenches at the longing look in your eyes. Like Steve is something fucking special to be had. 

He has no idea it’s just you thinking of how lonely you feel in comparison; wishing you had someone of your very own to love.

He glances down to your hands, a red solo cup held between them, then back to you. Getting drunk to soothe your aching fucking heart, huh?

He takes a swig of his beer, thinking that it makes two of you.

He pushes past others to get to you, before plopping down beside you on the couch. And you don’t even bother looking at him. 

Meanwhile, at least three other girls are eyeing him up from across the room. He doesn’t so much as wink at them before turning back to you.

He grabs the cup from your hands, which finally gets your attention. 

“Hey!”

He takes a drink, then holds it away from him with a confused expression before shoving it back against your chest. “Water? Really? You come to a party and get yourself a cup of water, you’re that big of a fucking square?”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip. 

He swirls the neck of his beer bottle in front of your face. “C’mon, try some, sweetheart. Might like it.”

“No, thanks,” you say, looking back to your friends.

He pushes his luck further. “Never know how good somethin’ can taste until you’ve put it in your mouth.”

You groan in frustration, standing, heading back outside then, just wanting him to leave you alone.

He of course follows you out, watching as you seat yourself at a table on the back patio, resting your chin against your fist, watching others dance.

He considers for a moment, taking another drink, then setting the bottle on the table, holding his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”

Your head jerks up and in his direction then. “What?”

He shrugs. “One-time offer, sweetie.”

You glance down to his hand, then back up to him. 

He grows serious then. “Just dance with me. Please.”

This side of him you don’t get to see often. And you think the same thing now about it as you usually do when he shows it to you: you feel like, somehow, you’re the only one he gives it to. You’re unsure why, exactly. But you don’t dare ask.

Instead, you slide your palm into his—you could swear his hand is shaking a little—and he leads you into the middle of the yard. 

Just as he positions the two of you in the middle of it, the song changes. Bob Dylan humming the beginning of the tune. 

Billy rolls his eyes, staring upward. “Of course it changed to a fucking slow song.”

…And you know the moment is over.

You go to step away, until he twines his fingers between yours, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t say to leave.”

You’re not sure why you’re even giving him the time of day, but granting him moments like these, you feel, are important. He’s trying. To be decent. And if you shut it down—these moments are already rare enough as it is—he’ll one day stop trying altogether. You hope this can be a step toward him being just a bit more mature going forward. To you, if no one else.

You go to wrap your arms around his neck until he shakes his head. “None of that junior-high shit. You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.”

You stare up at him at the statement. 

He positions your right hand atop his shoulder, taking your other in his left, placing his right against the small of your back. “Need to be a bit closer, doll,” he says, pulling you toward him, making you now chest-to-chest.

You ignore your heart beating just a bit faster now.

He begins to sway back and forth, staring down at you. The look in his eyes that of…tenderness? No. He’s just tired, or he’s drank too much. He’s not looking at you any kind of way. Is he?

He then presses his forehead to yours. “You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

His eyes flutter closed. 

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” you reply quietly. You return the compliment. “You look very handsome.”

His lip twitches. “Me or Dillon?”

You shake your head lightly. “You, Billy.”

He hums his response, fingers at the small of your back curling inward, bringing you impossibly closer to him. 

He pulls back the least bit, resting his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes again with you tucked under his chin, your head against his chest. He could stay like this for… He can’t think like that. It’s just one short dance. That’s all. It means nothing.

Until he looks down at you again. 

And you look up at him with wide eyes.

His heart pounds, his hand shaking in yours as he begins to lean down. If you let him… This could be the start of something. Even if he knows he’ll do anything he can to destroy it. Because that’s what he does. To anything good he touches.

Your breaths come in short and shallow, your lips only slightly parted, your heart fluttering… And then you hear someone calling your name.

And the moment is over.

Billy stares behind you, expression morphing into seething hatred. “Always fucking ruining everything,” you hear him mutter.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He lets go of you then, stepping past you. 

“Y/N, hey, it’s time to go. Nancy’s ready to head home, so I thought I’d give you a ride, too.”

Steve then catches sight of Billy, who’s heading straight toward him and does not look happy. 

“What the fuck is it with you? Always in the goddamn way. I’ve fuckin’ had it! If she wants a ride home, I’ll give her one. She doesn’t need her white fuckin’ knight right now.” 

Just as Billy raises his fist, Steve unable to do anything more than brace for impact, you quickly throw yourself between the two of them before he swings.

You stare up at him, arms outstretched on either side of you, trying to shield Steve, knowing—rather, hoping—Billy won’t do anything so long as you—or, at the very least, a girl—is in the way. 

Billy stares down at you, teeth clenched, fist hovering next to his head, then glances back to Steve. 

“Billy, don’t,” you say softly.

He squeezes his fist more tightly. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, a mere whisper.

His face falls, then, as well as his fist. He swallows thickly. His eyes search yours, looking for the girl he’d had in his arms just moments ago, but sees she’s taken another’s side now.

“Fuck you,” he says before stomping away.

[disneyprincemuke]

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3

taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

New Soul 2

Warnings: age gap, Auggy being a mean mean man, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. August Walker

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You step onto the plane in a whirlwind of anxiety. You follow a few feet behind the man in the suit, certain not to crowd him. You would do well to avoid him in the confines of the aircraft. It’s only an eight-hour flight. Only. 

You walk so slow that the person behind you kicks your bag. You apologise over your shoulder and check your seat number. You keep a careful balance between the passenger ahead of you and behind you. You only feel in the way of everyone and everything. 

Here you are. 21A. Window. You stop and look down the row. Shoot. It’s that same man, sat right in the middle seat.  

You look up at the open baggage compartment and collapse the handle of your bag. You’ll be quick. Get your bag up and squeeze in and shut down for the flight. You don’t want any more trouble than you’ve already run into. 

You try to lift your bag and stagger. The person waiting to get past sighs. You try again and get it halfway in the air before the wait has you thunking it back down. You apologise, to no one in particular, and look up and down the aisle for some help. 

“Come on, lady,” the flyer behind you huffs. 

“Christ,” the man in the middle seat stands, hunching under the cabin ceiling and sidles between the seats. He snatches your suitcase and shoves it up and in. You frown as you watch him in embarrassed silence. 

He drops back into his seat and rolls his eyes. You put your head down and shuffle forward. You turn your back to the row ahead of yours and press against the seats.  

“Thank you,” you murmur as you inch closer. “Erm, I’m by the window, sorry, excuse me.” 

He growls but keeps his eyes on his phone. You step over his feet, so close that your skin sets alight. Your cross-body bag catches on the armrest as you try to sit and you accidentally knock his elbow as you free it. You apologise again and lower yourself into the seat, making yourself as small as you can. Just your luck that you’re trapped beside him. You won’t have the courage to ask to get up to use the bathroom. 

You watch the tarmac through the window and flick your thumb against your index. Your nervousness has your leg jiggling and your lips moving wordlessly. That man sighs and pushes your elbow off the armrest. You twist towards the window, trying to disappear. 

As your gaze wanders up to the clouds, your stomach flips with a new fear. It’s not that you didn’t think of it before, only that you tried not to. It’s your first time flying and the thought of leaving the ground makes your bones turn to jelly. 

They seal the doors and start the safety instructions. You sit up straight and try to see over the seats as you listen intently. You buckle up your belt, struggling to get it hooked, then sit back and squirm. You rock against the restraint as the engine drones. The pilot makes his speech over the PA as you twiddle your fingers together. 

The man next to you snaps his belt into place only as the light turns on. The plane begins to taxi around the tarmac and you stare ahead with wide eyes. You don’t dare look out the window.

As the wheels pick up speed, you grab onto the armrest but unintentionally find your grip around that man’s wrists. You apologise and retracts, folding your arms up your chest to wring your hands. 

“Christ, can you sit still?” He hisses under his breath. The person in the aisle seat is blissfully unaware as they pull a sleep mask down and lean back. 

You nod and try to still yourself. Your breath hitches and you have to force it out of your chest. You’ve never been more terrified in your life. Not just as the nose the plane picks up but with the realisation that you’re truly leaving it all behind. You might not have much but it’s yours and it’s safe. 

You gasp for air and bite down on a knuckle. You don’t mean to but you whimper between shallow breaths. Your head spins as the plane gets higher and higher. 

The man shifts and opens and closes his fist. Your eyes speckle with tears as you fight to calm yourself. You can’t pass out. You can’t. No one else will take care of you. 

You hold your breath then let it out as you count to ten. As you finally even out, so does the plain. As you reach cruising altitude, the belt light dings off. You keep yours done up. 

The man opens a book, cracking the spine loudly, and focuses on the small text. You stare at the blank screen on the seat in front of you. A movie might keep you distracted. You unzip your cross-body bag and fish out your wired earbuds. You tug them free and they swing, hitting the man’s sleeve. 

You act like you don’t notice as you untangle them and plug them into the port beside the screen. You lean forward but the belt holds you back. You fumble to get free of it then tap on the screen as you peruse the selection. There's not very much that interests you. You choose an old Oscar’s legend from the 60s. 

You sit back and fidget as you try to get comfortable. Even when you are, you can’t help but move endlessly. Your nerves threaten to drown you.  

The man next to you slams his book shut and huffs. 

“For the love of god,” he snarls. “Sit still.” 

You look up at him with a pout, “sorry, sir.” 

“Sorry?” He sneers and shoves the book down beside his thigh. He puts his head back against the seat and growls. “Stupid girl.” 

[serxinns]

hey can you do a yandere class 1a x lightfury or nightfury reader bc they can shapeif into a dragon also love ur yan x reader fic

CHILHOOD I REMEMBER WATCHING THAT

Your classmates would be in love like so in love always wanting to pet you in your dragon form also did I mention that you can purr? oh buddy their hearts would be melting!

When you 1st arrived at school you were so nervous about how everyone would treat you like a disgusting horrible beast back in middle school, but surely you were wrong a bunch of students was crowded around bombarding me with questions and that's how your bond with them started

izuku was a dragon geek his new fixation was dragons now he would search up facts and information about dragons, how all eat, what's your blood type, whether are they warm or cold-blooded, everything he even had another notebook dedicated to his dragon research, and when he found out dragons can purr? Oh buddy that was his new fixation and goal but overall izuku is a pretty nice guy whenever you want to talk about stuff he always listens he's a great listener! The 2 of you would rant about your favorite hobbies alllll day

Mina and Ochako would be just all over you like Ochako would love to play with your tail wings and even horns but gently and if you ever made a dragon sound (like growls, purrs, grumbles, etc.) She and Mina would DIE of cuteness and would just pressure you to do it again and again and again until they chased after you and Momo had to step in and scold them, Mina is clingy and protective she always wants to touch, hug, and cuddle, pinch kiss all over you! She would decorate your horns and tail with stickers a BUNCH of stickers is very protective toward you, if someone would degrade you about ur quirk or form from their filthy mouth oh she's gonna clean it alright with her acid!

Shoto is usually calm around you his favorite part of the day is petting you on your head when you shift into a dragon one time when he was petting you, you started to fall asleep and made little soft purrs shoto was flustered and so were you, you begged him not to tell anyone knowing that it was very embarrassing and your classmates would be all over you shoto ofc agreed and reassured you that it wasn't embrassing and even admitted it was kinda cute...

Bakugo and his gang would be the most overbearing, especially with their chaotic behavior! Bakugo at 1st would think you were another extra or just some lizard breath but your high spirit and fierce got his attention and with your quirk, he started throwing a few empty insults forcing you to always be by his side, he occasionally would mess with your horns and mostly your wings, especially during training, kiri and you are sharp teeth besties he is so amazed by your dragon form if you were a famous hero he would be your number one fan! Would ask you to do tricks in your dragon or even let him get on your back so you could have a flying trip whenever you're insecure about something he'll cheer you right up with a hug and a bunch of manly compliments he one time saw you lift a 200-pound weight and he was covering his face red in the face like a high school girl

Sero and Denki are the chaotic duos Denki asks the stupidest questions about dragons and uses cheesy dragon pickup lines while Sero always does the "drag on this ball then" joke every time, Denki is so fascinated with dragons that he always asks A bunch of questions like "can you spit fire" "Did you ever save a princess?" "Is that green dragon on the screen related to you?" While you tried your very best to ask these idiotic questions without smacking the shit out of him with your tail servo, on the other hand, loves to tease your horns, and wings, especially ur tail one time when you and the bakusquad were watching TV sero accidentally stepped on it which made your tail smack the shit outta him in reflex, you kept apologizing repeatedly while Bago and Denki were laughing their asses off

Tsuyu and Takoyami are your animal beds always searching up funny animal facts about each other and laughing I can imagine Dark Shadow trying to flirt with you while you were in your dragon form and Tokoyami is trying to get him to shut up to get a flashlight and kept aiming at him tsuyu on the other hand just wants to cuddle up to you dragon form or not in dragon form she gives you a bunch of head pats and chin scratches, one time she heard you your purr while you were dosing off to sleep and she felt like she heard a beautiful melody but she never admits it tokoyami discovered this and also started to pet you they would go to a secret place where no classmate is there and stop cuddling, spoiling doing everything to hear those cute purrs

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Right here? Right now? | Jack Hughes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! Language, breeding kinks, unprotected, alcohol.

Summary: Jack has this incredible idea to have some extra fun at Jesper’s house at a party.

A:N- idk if this has been done, but I thought it was fun!!! Lmk if you’ve seen something similar (sorry)

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Today is December 31, New Year’s Eve. Jesper decided to throw a party to celebrate with the team. Some of us couldn’t make it, but we did party all night. Most of the couples came, and Nico, Luke, and John came as solos.

“We should hit body shots!” Nico insists, obviously I back away from the conversation. I’m wearing a red lacy thong underneath my black leggings, I have a matching bralette lying in between my skin and Jack’s grey navy hoodie. Not to mention the fact I’m like the most insecure person on the room.

I step back into the couch that sits in Nicole’s and Bratter’s living room. I lay on my back lying flat across a piece of the white couch. “You gonna try?” John walks over to me. He sets his cup of beer onto the coffee table in the middle of the sitting area. He scooches over to me and lets me rest my head on his lap.

“No. I’m really tired.” I announce as I rest my hands and let John play with my hair. “You coming baby?” Jack walks over to us.

“no. I’m exhausted from our day today.” I responded to jacks question.

John and I have known eachother from our days in Pittsburg. I’ve followed him down to Jersey, he’s like a brother to me.

~

If he hurts you, y/n, I’ll make sure he’ll know not to do it again.

~

I mean that’s what John said the first time I told him that Jack and I are going out.

“Please! I want to body shot. I don’t what to do it with Nico, or Luke. Sure as hell not John.” Jack says as he points around the kitchen towards the guys. John picks my head up and walks over to the group of boys.

“Now it’s just you and me.” Jack whined. “You can say it. Just tell me if you don’t want to do it. Just letting you know, it’s gonna look wierd if we don’t do it.” Jack jolts at me. I sit up letting his head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around his back and I lift my legs to cross them over his legs.

I kiss jacks cheek, “well if it makes you happy, I can get up there and do it.” I let go of jacks body and start over to the counter.

I hope ontop of the cold granite and lay flat on my back. Jack walks over and pushes through the crowd and rolls down my leggings. He reveals my belly button and he sets a small lemon ontop of my belly, he pushed my top up until you can see my bra.

Luke hands him a bag of leftover crushed jolly rancher mixed with sour patch kids smashed together. Jack sprinkled a little bit in between my breast. My cleavage slips jacks fingers inside letting him spread a bit. He sets a fireball in my mouth and he backs up, looking at his masterpiece from afar.

The party goes silent as people turn down the music and record. “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5-“

The count down starts for the new year! Jack walks up to me. He rolls his sleeves up from his own hoodie and sets his hat down. “-3-2-“

Jack takes the small lemon from my bellybutton and squeezes it into his mouth. He licks my abdomen from any crumbs that spilt on my torso. His warm wet tounge slips between my breasts and he takes all of the candy onto his tounge. The sourness hits him as he clings to me shoulder. With no hands, Jack takes the fireball from my mouth and takes the shot into his own.

He grabs me to pull me up. He walks over to where he set his beer last. He sips on his cooled drink and hands it to Nico.

“Yeah, goodluck trying tonight! She’s not letting you get anywhere near her. Especially at Bratters house.” Nico chirps at Jack. Jack smiles and walks away.

“I know, and I still am gonna try.” Jack holds his eye contact on my boobs as I pull down my hoodie from our fun event.

I laugh out, maybe I should let him try to buy me in. “Okay, go ahead.” I say and I hold jacks chin, and pull his mouth to my ear letting him whisper into me. He kisses my check before starting.

“I got like really- like really hard, I’m horny- I’m like REALLY , really turned on. Y/n please. Don’t make me beg.” Jack holds my left ass check in his right hand and he holds my back- right under my shoulder blades with his left hand.

He swaddles me in his hold for a minute as he prances around the room. We dance to the music, “it’s a new year anyway, we can celebrate!” Jack convinces me. He slides his right hand into my leggings discreetly and he pulls at my thong. He lets go as he lets it slap into my skin.

“Baby, I can’t wait any longer.” Jack pulls away from our hug that lasted like five-ish minutes. He runs towards Jesper.

“hey, um- I’m gonna need that guest room okay? And don’t let other people walk in, me and y/n are going through it. She’s really tired and I wanna stay so keep the music loud enough where you can’t hear us aguribg.” Jack sets our story up. Knowing Jesper, he already knows that Jack is trying to get in my pants. Jack walks around with his dick pressing against his pants whenever he sees me.

I whisper in his ear before he runs away with me, “seriously? Right here?” I judge him, he doesn’t care.

He takes my hand and runs into the room Jesper sets up for the party people- well Jack requested one, he always does this.

~

Jack throws me onto the bed, “legs.” He commands, I’m the only WAG that’s not wearing a sexy dress. I don’t need to impress anyone, Jack is the only one who’s seen me, and will probably be getting it.

I slides off my leggings and let him take off the rest of my clothes. He leaves my bra on, he takes my legs and sets them up. He moves my thing to the side. I’m already really wet.

“Wow, either you peed, or you really are horny.” Jack devilishly looks up from my pussy.

“No, you’re the one who’s horny, I just got off of my period.” I correct him. He’s never right, and I’m never wrong. “Fine, so that means your ovulating? Right?” Jack giggles as he stuffs a finger into my hole. He gets up licks his finger and locks the door.

He comes back and I’m already dry.

“You took to long.” I angrily reply to Jacks confused face. Jack jumps down onto his knees as I scorch up to the head of the bed. I hid a pillow between the wall and the headboard. I open my legs and throw off my underwear.

I unclip my bra and Jack tears it off my chest. He beds me down, my ass in his face, he lays down on his back as I sit ontop of this face. He moans as he takes me in. I start to jump on him. I feel like I’m going to cum, so I get up from him sucking inside of me, the suction form his mouth and my pussy breaks and I turn around.

Climbing into Jack, I face his hard dick, and he faces my very wet cunt again. “Again?” Jack gets annoyed. “Yes, you’re getting special treatment as well.” I pull onto his dick.

I play with his balls bad start taking his tip into my mouth. He lifts his hips up, the bdeige of his back lifted, my naked body lying on his bare skin. He licks my pussy out, cleaning every droplet of cum, and creating more. I do the same, except jack dumps everything at the same time.

“Excited, hey?” I tease him, Jack hits his nose into my bud. I realse more than ever and white juice spill onto jacks face. I get up finishing Jack.

~jacks pov~

Liftibg my hips, my shaft still in her mouth I thrust my dick into her throat, almost feeling her tonsils. I feel her tounge massaging every bit of my skin. My tip almost reaching to her stomach at this point I cum. I can feel her swallowing, impressive.

I pull a special on her as I hide my nose into her pussy, what a slut, a slut only for me.

She arrives and finishes on my face, dumping every ounce of fluid onto my face. I make her lick me clean and I lick her creases dry, leaving her actual holes wet, awaiting for her king to touch her.

“Baby, you can take it can’t you?” I ask her, out of breath already I stand up, I push her down onto her back, in missionary I fall into her. Spreading her legs I grab one and throw it over my shoulder.

Grabbing an extra pillow, I fold it stuffing it under her hips, allowing me to hit her G-Spot. She moan out, the music draining all of her cry’s. She ccleched her pussy onto my dick, closing all of the possible gaps. No air is filling her holes, noting but our cums bonding together, and my cock filling her vagina.

~ur pov~

He stuffs every inch of his cock into me. Jack talks me through it:

“Breathe for me.”

“Come for me, I can’t keep hitting you.”

“You’ve taken it before.”

“You’re such as little whore.”

“Slut”

“I love you.”

“You feel so good”

“You so tight.”

*moaning*

Jack is a horny person, and that’s his personality, I love him for it. He grips I to me and finally finishes his love for me. He pulls out belong up with the inside of his hoodie.

He slides his clothes back on and helps me up, he clings to my side as we head back to the party. My hair is frizzy, the perfect curls that I trwiled in a hot tool for hours are ruined, my shirt is crinkled. My makeup is messy, and I have red bits makes everywhere. Jack just seems out of breathe. But he’s a pretty boy, and he’ll get anything he wants.

We pretend like nothing happened. The party ended when John decided to body shot on Nico- not licking his abs, or taking the shot class for his mouth but performing a dance for us and eating a lemon with eachother. I drove John home and made sure he got to bed alright, by the time we got home Jack was sleeping and Luke had to help me carrru him in the house.

I guess there is no part two to our fun tonight.

[yuriisclumsy]

Love's Dance

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,014

Authors note: Last one...or is it? This One-shot is officially 7,018 Words (according to Google Doc)

The bustling streets of the city were welcoming the air of festivity as the first day of the festival arrived. I was wearing a dress averaging that of the territory's young women's—courtesy of Agent Lance. 

Waiting for the festival’s dance to start, I spent the day scouting the area blending in with the crowds to not look suspicious, letting time run by for the sun to set. 

As the sun disappears below the horizon, I make my way to the square where the dance is to take place. In the center, was a raised platform with tables, servants, and the Henituses’. Amongst them was a streak of red that stood out. There he was. Cale Henituse in all his glory. 

Great. The plan is going smoothly. Earlier today I had planted a few bombs off the city square in some abandoned homes, making sure no one would get injured. I may be part of Arm, but I don’t uphold their nature of chaos and destruction. 

Going around the square, I managed to find a group of girls willing to go with my plan–even if they looked at me weirdly. I guess money truly is powerful. 

As I led the group to the center, music started to play. The dance had begun. Couples and young boys asking for the hand of a girl they like to dance together gathered in the center. The group I had spent my money on left me in pursuit of quick enjoyment. 

“Hold up–wait!” I yelled, seeing my well-earned money fly away. “...aaand there goes my coins…great.” 

“Now, how am I supposed to get to him…?"

“Excuse me, miss?” a young man tapped my shoulder. 

“Huh?” 

“Ah! Sorry I’ll move aside. I’m sorry!” I vowed two times apologetically.  

Crap! I completely forgot I’m standing in the middle of people dancing. I should get out of the way. I started to move out of the way. 

“No, no you’re all good. I actually wanted to ask for a dance with you, is that alright?” The man said. 

“Umm, well, sure. Nothing wrong with a little distraction—” my eyes widened, and my throat shut. 

“That’s good to hear. I was hoping a beautiful lady like you would accept me without running away.” He smiled at me, extending a hand. 

“I see… If I may ask, what is your name?” I asked nervously. 

There is no way—no way in hell—that this man is Cale Henituse. Praying to any being powerful enough to respond and tell me: “this isn’t Cale, it’s a man that looks just like him.” 

But my prayers were unheard. 

“You don’t know? Red hair, gray eyes? Usually, people recognize me from a mile away. But it seems you're new around these parts, so I guess I'll let this slide,” he took one of my hands and placed it right on his lips, “my name is Cale, the son of the Count. I hope you at least know the family's name.”  

The man I had been trying to get close to is standing right in front of me. 

Damn it! I know I wanted to get near him, but not like this! Turmoil spread across my mind as anxiety rose.  

“Are you alright?” Snapping from whatever state I was in, I composed myself. I couldn’t give him any signs of weakness, or anything weird, lest he suspects me and has me arrested. Breathing in, I smiled sweetly at him. 

Whoops. I got caught zoning out. 

“Don’t worry about me. I am fine, thank you.” 

“That’s good to hear,” he was still holding onto my hand, “so, shall we dance?” Cale asked.  

“It would be my pleasure, young master Cale.” 

I looked out through the little gaps left between the dancing people to find my planned routes for emergencies, yet it was impossible to see when I got led further in. 

Okay, [Name]—calm down. All you need to do is lead the dance outwards. That’s all you need to do. For now, go with the flow. Following Cale’s steps, he stopped to turn to me to begin dancing. 

“Say, I didn’t get your name,” he said as we both fell into step, letting the rhythm be our guide, “do offer me the honor of knowing the name to call such beauty.” 

“…[Name],” I said in a whisper before saying it again to let him hear it, “my name is [Name].” 

“[Name]…I like it,” he grinned at me, “well, [Name], you dance quite beautifully.” 

“I don’t think I do. I only learned a little when I was younger because my parents forced me to.” 

“If it makes you feel better, you dance better than most people I know. And they have practiced their whole lives!” 

“Pff, you can’t just say things like that about people.” 

“So, what?” He grinned, “I am just telling the truth!” 

I laughed at his banter. Looking at him, like he is now, he didn’t seem like the person I expected—especially after all the rumors of him having a sharp tongue and jerk-behavior…. Are all of them true? To me, he sounded like a very charismatic character. 

“What brought you to this corner of the kingdom?” 

“I'm…I’m on vacation. I landed a few business deals, and I really need rest after that.” I spoke. Lying was one of my fortes. 

“Then you must be a good business woman for landing anything on the Roan Kingdom. It’s difficult if you don’t have the contacts.” 

“Tell me about it. I had to meet up with an interested businessperson several times to even give me a chance.” I complained. 

“Sounds like you had fun,” he chuckled. 

“If you find dealing with ill-mannered men fun.” 

The music began to tone down, signaling the change in song. We both bowed to one another as our final move before the music fully stopped. The people around us started to shatter to pass the time before the song began. 

“It was a lovely dance, lady [Name].” 

“Likewise.” 

“Now, I need to leave,” he looked at the podium where his family was, “if I don’t go now, they’ll start to get worried.” 

Wait— I’m already this close! I can’t let him go yet! 

“Wait, young master!” I reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. He turned to me in surprise, looking between me and the hand that I was taking ahold of him. Realizing what I did I retracted it before there could be any confusion. 

“Ah, sorry. I…I wanted to talk to you a bit more, Master Cale.” 

“Cale.” 

“Pardon?” I let out in confusion. 

“Just, Cale, is fine. I hate when people use honorifics when regarding me.” He gave me a smile. 

“Alright. Then, Mr. Cale, are you willing to spare a bit of your time for me?” He let out a sight at my formality but said nothing about it. 

“I still have some time,” he offered me his arm to take, “shall we go?” 

“Yes,” I placed a hand on his arm for him to lead me out. 

Finally, we had escaped the merry-go-round of dizziness: the dance floor. As much as I love to dance, it was getting lightheaded because of looking outward for the location of my routes. I felt uneasy if I didn’t know where they were. 

Cale had asked me if I wanted something to eat. I responded with a yes, trying to stay in the lovely mood. The more relaxed he is, the easier it is for me to get answers out of him. 

After some time, I led Cale to the outskirts of the city square by pointing at shops and “interesting” objects that caught my attention that were farther away. He didn’t seem to care, so I kept my façade until there were no prying eyes. 

“Say, [Name], I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he remained walking, not looking back at me. 

“Uhm, what is it?” I asked curiously. It didn’t hurt to answer one more question before I kidnap and interrogate him. What’s the worst that could happen? 

He leaned closer to me. I shivered at the feeling of his breath against my ear…. For some reason, there was a feeling of doom in my stomach. I ignored it, thinking it was nothing. 

“You like working for Arm, right?” Cale whispered that question in my ear. 

I froze. Replaying the same question over and over, yet it didn’t register. Maybe I had heard wrong. 

“...excuse me?” I turned slowly to look him in the eyes. 

“You heard me.” Cale’s gaze pierced me. It’s as if he was looking right through me. His lips holding that same smile he gave me when we were dancing. Yet, I couldn’t see the charismatic grin he wore from before anymore. The feeling it gives is that of a grinning fox as it has its prey pinned to the ground, ready to end its insignificant life. 

“You…you didn’t approach me because of how I looked…” The gears in my head start turning, and my face shows my anxiety. 

“Isn't it weird?” He asked no one.  

“Why would a lout act so nicely to a lady like you?” His questions were more for dramatic suspense than for them to receive a reply. Besides…we both knew the answer. There was no reason for it to be answered. 

“I have to applaud you for the effort put into this,” he took out a gadget from his pocket. But this was no mere object, it was one of the bombs I had planted. 

How did he find it!? I made sure to hide those well! A drop of sweat ran through my face. 

“These are high level magic bombs. I wonder who Arm's supplier is on these,” his eyes inspected the device before they averted their gaze on me. “You wouldn't happen to know, would you?” 

I stood there. Saying nothing and staring at the ground. The grin he wore was one of knowing; he picked me out, not for my looks or out of pity, but because he found me as a member of Arm: he played me like a fool. 

Now that I know all of this, who knows what he’ll do to me. I needed to leave. And fast. 

“Silent, now, are we?” His index finger tilted my head upward, though my face was not visible for him to make out my expression. “You were so cherry before. Mind telling me where all of that went?” 

I bit the finger in which he forced me to look up at him, shoving him to lose his grip on me. I took this chance to make a run for the nearest alley. Thankfully, it was one of my escape routes. There was no time to look back  

Ease came over me when I saw one of my escape equipment not tampered with. 

But that sense of relief was washed away as soon as two men stood in my way. One was wearing an all-black cloak obstructing my view of his face, the other was an older man wearing a butler uniform. He was familiar. It felt like I had crossed paths with him before. 

Wait… It’s him! The man I accidentally bumped into on my way to set up the bombs! Did he follow me?! 

I stopped, not before drifting a little forward. 

“Damn it…!” I stared straight at my opponents. They won’t let me pass them if I continue, but if I stay still, I will get captured. There is another choice…but that is for emergency cases only. 

My best shot is to fight my way through. I thought looking back at me only to see Cale staring back at me. My body was about to start trembling, but I made myself get ready to push before fear takes over my system.  

“Surrendering is your only option.” The man in the cloak advised. 

“...” 

Inhale…and exhale… Here goes nothing. 

“I’m sorry, but I'll be the judge of that!” I charged onward, taking out a pocket dagger I hid underneath my dress for these types of situations.  

The man in black moved forward to block whatever attack I was planning. I noticed the butler stayed behind without a weapon in hand. Most Likely, he is there to give out orders. Or so I thought. 

The sound of steel clashing harshly against one another was loud, but not enough to scare either of the parties. One slash from one side followed a parry from the other. Although, it was clear to us who was the stronger one. It wasn’t the damsel who had stood her ground thus far, but the strong-mystery of a man. 

Catching an opening I thrusted my dagger to his neck, but to no avail. He dodged. I thought my eyes were playing with me. He had stopped my assault with lightning speed. Before I realized it, he turned and slid his sword upward, leaving a big cut in my left arm.  

Holding on with my spared hand to prevent more blood from gushing out. He didn’t pursue me, even if he had an advantage after the injury I sustained. 

“Surrender. Now.” He demanded. 

“Over my dead body!” I rush at him, seeing a gap for me to use to get past him.  

The moment he turned his back against me to riposte I evaded the strike by going under and between his legs, getting rid of one of my adversaries. 

The only one standing in the middle of my freedom was the butler. 

I’m sorry old man…I really didn’t want to do this...! 

Deciding to not waste time, I went with full intent to kill the old geyser. I raised my dagger and lodged at him. The butler, however, didn’t move. He didn't blink, twitch, or make a sound. He simply smiled at me. A warning to all: “you’re the prey, and I'm the hunter.”  

I hesitated for a split second from the eerie feeling he gave me, but this was enough for him. Disappearing from eyesight, only to appear in front of me. He made a move to strike from below. I pulled up my arms in defense, even if my left arm was wounded, it was better than dying. He feinted the attack, however, as his real attack was from above. 

Unable to block it on time, I received a big punch in my jaw, sending me straight to the ground. That hit was intended to kill me, but it seems he restrained himself before landing the punch.  

My ears were ringing, and my body was aching. I had no other choice but to use it. 

The old butler sighed before adjusting his sleeve, his piercing gaze carefully watching me. 

“All of this could have been avoided if you had just given in,” the old man commented. His partner came closer to my defeated figure to inspect the situation. 

“Do we bring her back to the manor?” the man in black said, taking off his hood. 

“Yes. Master Cale wants to interrogate her further.” 

“I... won’t–go…” 

The two men looked down after hearing my voice. 

I held my body in a crawling position with my aching arms. This body of mine sustained too many blows to stand up. 

“Impressive…” the butler said. 

“Should I…knock her out?” he said, raising his hand waiting for the other to respond. 

“Mhmm, I think it’s for the best.” 

“Right.” Before the younger man could knock me out, I rolled over and slammed myself against one of the walls of the buildings. His fisted hand collided with the ground where I was, forming a small crater.  

“Ah, she moved.”  

“You still have the energy to move–even after I hit you?” The butler looked at me in astonishment, “well, aren’t you a punk.” 

Locking my distasteful gaze on him I reached to grab the hair pin holding part of my hair. Taking it off, my hair fell to its natural form. Lifting my hand above my head, I said my final words: 

“Fu-k you.” 

Before shattering the pin into tiny pieces, the broken hair pin emitted a strong glow. The light engulfed me, dissolving me into tiny particles of light before fading into nothing. 

“What foul language…” He chuckled. 

… 

“Dammit...!” I hissed at the pain from all the cuts and bruises. I looked around and found myself in a forest. It was familiar. Too familiar in fact. As if I had been here for a big portion of my life. 

“Agh…” getting up from the ground proved difficult, but I managed anyway, “oh…I remember this place now…”  

This is the place Arm took me to train me after I had been stripped off from my parents… How lovely. Better get going. I need to report my findings…before they decide I’m not useful anymore. 

“I hate my life…” 

I walked off to the distance, following a trail of clawed trees. 

… 

“Young Master!” Choi Han came running and kneeled in front of Cale, “I apologize! I let her go...!” 

Staring off into the distance, Cale reminisced about the woman he had danced with. Out of all the things he accounted for, this was not one of them. He underestimated her and paid the price for doing so. 

“It’s fine,” He motioned for Han to get up, he reluctantly got up, “I miscalculated she would have a magic item like that.” 

“So, what are your orders, young master?” Ron asked. 

“...for now…. nothing. Just–keep an eye out for the other agent that’s in the territory and bring him to me if you do find them.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Cale couldn’t take his eyes off the area where he saw her last. Something in his heart told him to not let her go. It told him that he had a major loss.  

He patted his heart to calm down–it was like that since he met her, and it hasn’t ceased performing. He must deal with that until he crosses paths with her again. 

“I hope I get to see you again…[Name]” 

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Master-List

[sweetheartmotives]

I saw your request to the void for story requests! Here I am to oblige, if you'd so please.

Would you be down to write about a Yandere!Prince, who falls in love with a low tier noble. Just the idea of going to a party to for our coming of age, expecting nothing given how low your family is in status, only for the crown prince to fall in love at first sight!

Or something like that xD. Hope you are taking care!

-🌟

𓆩:*¨༺✧♛ Yandere prince ♛ ✧༻¨*:𓆪

Desc and possible Cw: Yandere themes, reader is tired of everything and everyone, reader is a lil hater, the prince is an egotistical jerk [what did we expect], and probably some wrong info about the medieval times. [Please forgive me if anything is wrong, I'm a bit misinformed.]

Let me know if I missed any!

As a low-tier noble, you never expected to be invited to a royal party, let alone the coming-of-age celebration hosted by the crown prince himself. Your mother had insisted on dressing you in some of your grandparents' old clothes, which may not be as elegant as what the other guests will be wearing, but they'll do. Nervous knots twist in your stomach as you prepare to attend the kingdom's most exclusive event. Would the prince even notice you? Let's be serious: even though your mother had you bathe three times in a row, sewed your grandparent's old clothing to make it look presentable, and did your hair in a nice way, you still wouldn't be noticed. After finishing getting ready, your mother added some finishing touches and sent you off to the party.

As you walk toward the kingdom, the cold winter air blows past you, causing you to shiver and pout. This is total bullshit. Why did the prince decide to hold his coming-of-age party in the winter? This is bullshit! BULLSHITTT!!!! As you internally cuss out the prince and his parents, you enter through the kingdom's gates and into the castle, where beautiful women and handsome men make their way to the ballroom to meet the prince. You scoff quietly and follow behind the crowd, heading toward the ballroom.

As soon as you and the crowd enter, the sparkling chandelier springs to life and lights the entire room with a powerful glow that nearly blinds you. And now that I mention blinding, the light shining off the gold vases and wall decor is so darn bright it's burning your eyes! Damn this place! You squint and focus your eyes on the dramatic prince on his father's throne, cross-legged. What a prick! First, he hosts this stupid party in the middle of winter, aka the time when the weather is the coldest it's ever been, then he turns on that bright ass chandelier that nearly blinded you all, and now he has the audacity to act like he's above all of you? I mean, he is royalty, so technically, yeah, he is, but still! What a jackass! You scowl and stand behind the beautiful women in big, puffy dresses. They'll cover you nicely with those giant dresses; btw, they do look super nice, so you might compliment them later.

The prince clears his throat and stands up, placing a hand on his chest while the other sneaks its way behind his back. “I welcome you all to my ceremony; today we are celebrating me, of course, and since I'm the most important individual here, it's quite obvious I'm the one who is getting celebrated.” The prince said it very smugly as he smirked and waved his hand around as he spoke. “I invited some men here since I don't want any of you ladies to go home tonight feeling disappointed, so have fun mingling about! Now, we will begin dancing in 3, 2, and 1.” The prince steps down from the throne and snaps for a butler to turn on the music. Just as soon as he [the prince] snaps, a butler turns on music. The crowd claps and begins to spread around the ballroom. Some women try to ask politely for a dance with the prince, and some men ask a few women around to dance. This is truly ridiculous. To you, of course.

You sigh and make your way through the crowded room, aiming for a nearby balcony to hide away until the party is over. Everyone knows that the prince is an egotistical jerk, but no one has ever said anything because of the fear of getting executed or something like that. You don't know, and you don't care; you just want to leave. I mean, you could leave, but you'd be reprimanded by your mother for leaving the prince's ‘ceremony’, if you could call it that. It's more of a show-off party for the sake of boosting the prince's ego. It's bad enough that he's a jerk, but he's a jerk with an ego as big as a windmill.

Unknown to you, the prince has already got his eyes set on someone. You!

After a while of leaning on the balcony and staring off into the nearby scenery, someone comes beside you. You feel an arm against yours, and you turn your head to look at the person—it's the prince! You give him a mean, judgy look in hopes he'll find you unappealing and go away. He only smirks in return and opens his mouth to speak. “What are you doing out here? You should be out there celebrating me with the others.” He says smoothly, his tone of smugness never leaving for a second. You roll your eyes and look at him. “I'm out here because I want to be out here," you say plainly, still praying, no, hoping that your attitude will drive him away. The prince chuckles and rests his elbow on the balcony's railing, placing his head in his hand. “Seriously? Why? Don't you like celebrating the one who's your soon to be king?” He replies, smiling smugly as he chuckles even more. You scoff and look away from him, deciding to ignore him.

The prince, after 30 seconds of silence, smiles even more and snaps his fingers in your face. “Hey, you shouldn't ignore your higher-ups. It's impolite.” He smirks and giggles. You give him a confused look as you judgely look him up and down. The prince laughs and throws his head back. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He says in between laughs, clearly finding your judgmental look funny. “Because you're annoying.” You reply harshly, not holding back your annoyance, even though the person you're talking to is royalty. He laughs even harder and smacks the balcony rail in amusement. “Wow, so mean~ you're even more than looks! I think I love you already.” He smirks and giggles even more. You deadpan. Excuse him? Did he just say he loved you? You blink in surprise for a few seconds before scowling and giving him another judgmental look. He laughs even harder at this and takes a few minutes to catch his breath from all the one-sided laughter. After that, the entire night [the rest of the party] is just you and him, him laughing his ass off while you scowl and keep giving him those amusing judgmental looks.

From the looks of it, I guess he's already decided who his future spouse is.

───────────────────────────────

Welcome to the end credits! This is where I will give information on my new or previous yans!

The prince is bisexual! He just needed an excuse to invite men so he could take a look at his options in both categories.

Hello 🌟 anon! Thanks for requesting, this was super fun to write, and it was probably the fastest fic I've ever written, haha! I hope you and everyone else are doing well! I hope you enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing! (^ω^)

───────────────────────────────

[obsessedfics]

Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya 

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter. 

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night. 

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud. 

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ” 

Satoru… Gojo?  

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on? 

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks. 

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing. 

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now? 

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake. 

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.” 

Something is wrong. 

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks thinking about him. 

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid. 

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles. 

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him. 

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away. 

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him. 

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out. 

Huh? 

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears. 

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–” 

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him. 

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes. 

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?  

Satoru’s words flash in your mind. 

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is. 

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train. 

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?! 

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears. 

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit. 

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead. 

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his. 

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself; 

Not dead. 

—

Shibuya was pandemonium. 

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness. 

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically. 

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall. 

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector. 

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move. 

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it. 

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven. 

Am I going to die here? 

You look down at your body. 

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag. 

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you. 

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box. 

You felt so incredibly numb. 

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t. 

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath. 

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution. 

This is troublesome. 

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate. 

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection. 

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon. 

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.” 

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were. 

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution. 

“I am… I know him, in a way.” 

Oh no, not another one. 

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.” 

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused. 

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?” 

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it. 

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything? 

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it. 

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left. 

Who is she? 

November:19 Days After the Incident  

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call. 

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear. 

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.” 

Thank god.  

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died. 

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.” 

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you. 

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you. 

Regardless of what your place in his world is. 

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”  

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence? 

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel. 

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.” 

Satoru scrunched his brows. 

She never told me her last name. 

“Her first name, what is it?” 

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care. 

“Y/n, I think?” 

He was already moving. 

“Eh? Where are you going?!” 

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me. 

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him. 

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened. 

Confirm her safety then leave. 

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer. 

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe. 

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked. 

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her. 

He had until December… 

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow. 

Be here, be safe . 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. 

There she was as if nothing happened. 

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief. 

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered. 

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth. 

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her. 

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings. 

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right? 

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him. 

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief. 

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred. 

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen . 

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real. 

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises. 

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body. 

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul. 

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.” 

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…  

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously. 

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him. 

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it. 

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear. 

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features. 

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.” 

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless. 

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.” 

What? 

“While you were powerless, you saved me.” 

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met. 

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.” 

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her. 

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.” 

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety. 

“You. Saved. Me.” 

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away. 

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her . 

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too. 

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him. 

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks. 

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them. 

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers. 

“How long do we have?” 

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,” 

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory. 

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks. 

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him. 

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations. 

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation. 

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing. 

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live . 

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh. 

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist. 

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human. 

To be normal . 

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind. 

“It’s okay.” 

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple. 

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart. 

I love you. 

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips. 

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes. 

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm. 

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms. 

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve. 

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.” 

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze. 

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are. 

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”  

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real. 

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time. 

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you. 

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words. 

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.” 

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features. 

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake. 

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.” 

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt. 

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine. 

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.” 

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.” 

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare. 

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile. 

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.” 

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth. 

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think. 

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly. 

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features. 

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.” 

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea. 

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine. 

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously. 

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder. 

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you. 

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good. 

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva. 

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body. 

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need . 

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip. 

“Who said I want you to stop?” 

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you. 

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows. 

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen. 

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun. 

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you. 

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra. 

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard. 

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt. 

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?” 

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise. 

“ Gladly .” 

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch. 

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.  

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?” 

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck. 

“Or two,” 

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper. 

“ Or three. ” 

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips. 

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him. 

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?” 

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath. 

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants. 

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch. 

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder. 

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart. 

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” 

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck. 

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his. 

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair. 

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head. 

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw. 

“Do I? Why’s that?” 

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think. 

“I–” 

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes. 

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you. 

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.” 

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze. 

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.” 

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his. 

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur. 

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you. 

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you. 

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in. 

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune. 

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist. 

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins. 

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach. 

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly. 

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves. 

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh. 

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch. 

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast. 

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most. 

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants. 

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band. 

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way. 

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis. 

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth. 

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength. 

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence. 

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?” 

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles. 

“Y-Yes?” 

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms. 

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response. 

Eagerly, you nod your head. 

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you. 

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too. 

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you. 

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound. 

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger. 

“Mmph!” 

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up . 

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete. 

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers. 

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder. 

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it. 

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think. 

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves. 

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“I-I want you,” 

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you. 

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls. 

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure. 

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you. 

Oh fuck. 

“Ah, shit just like that,” 

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit. 

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot. 

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you. 

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer. 

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back. 

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach. 

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you. 

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably. 

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.” 

His words are your undoing. 

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue. 

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands: 

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you. 

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much. 

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention. 

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more . 

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own. 

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. 

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire. 

“This speaks for itself. But,” 

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles. 

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile. 

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply. 

“I want to taste you, too.” 

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning. 

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock. 

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you. 

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs. 

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock. 

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you. 

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin. 

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders. 

“Say,” 

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement. 

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively. 

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint. 

“Your mouth. Now .” 

You click your tongue. 

“Here?” 

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly. 

I like it when you say my name. 

“Ah, you’re right. Here?” 

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze. 

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch. 

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that. 

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over. 

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture. 

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out. 

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him. 

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head. 

Oh, you think you're too big, do you? 

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach. 

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly. 

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him. 

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious . 

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.” 

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image. 

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva. 

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge. 

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips. 

“Open up baby,” 

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted. 

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him. 

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit. 

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner. 

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat. 

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further. 

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten. 

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth. 

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips. 

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.” 

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench. 

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip. 

“Not at all, I could do that again.”  

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead. 

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm. 

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire. 

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now. 

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.” 

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could. 

“You don’t know that, Y/n.” 

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare. 

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.” 

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.” 

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile. 

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.” 

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips. 

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes. 

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure. 

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit. 

Dear lord help me. 

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out. 

“Look at me,” 

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze. 

“Use your words,” 

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words. 

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place. 

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want. 

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride. 

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer. 

“So full of surprises,” 

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs. 

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you. 

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you. 

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust. 

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect. 

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him. 

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you. 

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.  

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise. 

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts. 

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights. 

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response. 

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit. 

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you. 

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.” 

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs. 

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing. 

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole. 

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.” 

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips. 

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you. 

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough. 

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated. 

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear. 

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver. 

“Good,” 

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you. 

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good. 

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced. 

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot. 

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk. 

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic. 

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white. 

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked. 

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly. 

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you. 

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin. 

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides. 

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease. 

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive. 

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.  

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp. 

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response. 

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen. 

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.” 

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together. 

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.” 

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence. 

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?” 

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.