#i see a man with long hair and i HAVE to put him in a bun ASAP

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- This is a VERY angsty, please do NOT READ if you want the Geto (alt ending) this is how it was always supposed to go but I will have the happy version in a couple days. Heavy angst, reader is injured, mentions of pregnancy, reader has a baby, bittersweet and emotional, explicit sex (not with Geto) oral (f receiving) and longing/yearning. I cried 10 times so be aware lol WC this part- 7.7k

This version is does NOT END Sugu/Reader- the alt ending will! This is a Gojo/reader/ambiguous end. SKIP IT if you want the Geto end.

<<<Part Four - Playlist - Masterlist - Happy ending/alt end (soon)

Sad asf /Baby it's NO Good Ending

Satoru lifts you up into his arms effortlessly, tired students and sorcerers retreat tentatively, Suguru’s curses dissolve as if they weren’t there, all while your unconscious body lolls in Satoru’s arms. Suguru is speaking to his cult quickly, ordering them to stop and retreat for now, while Satoru waits, staring at your face now, looking so oddly peaceful for what happened.

Satoru had a feeling this would happen, and he hates himself for knowing it and bringing you anyway, but you were okay with it - willing even - to save everyone, he admires it about a girl he hardly knows. To put yourself and a baby in danger to reach out to Suguru, it shows just who you are, it’s easy to see how much Suguru has fallen, when Satoru never thought he would.

Suguru finally walks up, glaring at Satoru’s hold with eyes gone black, swiping blood off his cheek as he walks toward him now. “I can carry my wife.”

“You’ve really done such a great job taking care of her so far. I’ll carry her, I don’t trust you not to disappear and Shoko is the only one I trust helping her.”

“Tch, you think I don’t even want to help her?”

“Why? You left her.” Suguru snatches you up, and you hang so limply he feels sick, sighing in anguish as he looks at your listless body. “Now.”

Suguru never thought he’d listen to Satoru, but he does, following him now into Shoko’s medical set up, her brows raise as she sees Suguru for the first time in almost nine years, he notices how exhausted she is, all of the fun energy he remembers sapped away. He falters a moment, before carrying you inside, Satoru shuts the heavy door with an echoing bang.

“What’s happened?” Suguru delicately lays your unconscious frame, as Shoko sets to feeling your pulse.

“Energy blast from… one of my men.” Suguru gulps down it all, the fact that it’s even worse, that you were hurt by one of his by mistake.

He wants to kill that man right now.

“She’s pregnant.” Satoru mentions, as if it were so casual, and Shoko sighs now, nodding.

“Can’t be far along, she’s not showing.”

“Five weeks.” Suguru answers, quietly, as Shoko raises her hands now, and shuts her eyes, dark hair falling a bit over her shoulders.

“I can’t guarantee it will be okay, but I can save her.” Suguru’s heart shatters at her words, looking as the reverse curse technique starts working over you with the incandescent light.

“It’s all your fault. Why’d you fucking bring her here!?” Suguru walks up to Satoru now, smacking a hand as he brushes your hair a bit off your sleeping face, earning a glare behind white bandages.

“She asked to come.”

Suguru pauses. Are you that reckless?

“I told her no at first, but I thought she’d be the only thing to bring you to any of your fucking senses, have you stop killing my students, our friends.”

“I don’t have any fucking friends.”

Shoko scoffs, eyeing him with tired eyes now. “You did.”

“It’s not you all I wanted to eliminate, you simply chose to defend them, the weak, pathetic…” He can’t say it anymore, what he called them, what he called you.

“Weren’t you the one who said it’s our job to protect the weak?” Satoru’s voice is quiet now, reminding him of just that, the time he felt that way, naive and young.

“You continue to lose all your comrades and friends, Satoru you may be the strongest but it’s not worth it - without them, there are no more curses.”

“It’s not your choice to change how the world is. You’ve gone so far, the only person I’ve ever seen you love since you… changed… is here.” Satoru’s words nearly make him fall over with the pain, the grief, looking at your still unconscious body, as Shoko focuses harder.

“Please just save her.” He whispers now, and Satoru slips off his blindfold completely, blue eyes seeing right through him.

“You did this. If she doesn’t make it, it’s because of you.”

“I fucking know that!” Suguru shoves Satoru now, which merely earns a tired, sad little smile, while he grips his wrist before he lets Suguru strike him. “I know it, okay? I don’t even… fucking deserve her. I know it.” He’s close to tears as he shoves off Satoru, covering his face before he looks back at you.

It’s gone too far, god it’s all gone too far, hasn’t it?

How can he live with himself after what he’s done to you. He places a hand on yours, you don’t grip it how could you, limp and weak fingers, exhausted face growing just a little brighter. You’re exhausted from him, from the stress - god he left you in his bed, alone, naked and gleaming from your lovemaking.

Love making, it was love making.

You were his everything, and not once did he let you get treated or shown that way, what was just one time of worshipping your body when he didn’t worship or appreciate your soul? Your mind, your wishes, he barely knew you truly - he never gave you a chance to listen.

He hates himself.

He was going to kill them all, for a better world, but to lose the only important thing to him, in a room with two people who loved him?

What has he done?

“It’s not working.” He says then, worried as Shoko sighs, shaking her head.

“I need more time with her, her body is already in a rough state.”

“What rough state!?”

“She has a weak will, and she needs to have some will to make it through this.”

A weak will, because of him, he fucking knows it too- it’s all him that did this, that caused it, he wants to blame Satoru for putting you in danger, but it’s ultimately his fault. You begged him to stay despite having been forced into this, despite the horrible things he said and did to you, despite it all you still asked him. You still tried to break through, almost meeting your end.

You awaken suddenly with a gasp, sitting up, staring at an unfamiliar but pretty face of a woman in scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. She smiles gently, you feel two men’s hands on you, Satoru’s holding one hand, Suguru the other, both staring up at you now.

“I’m sorry I put you in harm.” Satoru’s words are full of remorse, one of his eyes staring up at you, glimmering. “It was the only way but…”

“It’s okay. I chose to, it was the right thing.” He exhales in relief, as you look to Suguru now, torn between anger, relief and fear. “Suguru…”

“I ended the battle.” It’s all relief now, as you clutch him tightly, and all the love in your eyes makes him even more sick, how could you love him?

“It worked.”

“It was foolish, reckless-”

“You are not about to lecture her right now on being reckless.” Suguru scowls at Satoru’s words.

“Let’s talk while Shoko checks her out.” Suguru’s words are surprisingly soft, a way you’ve only heard a couple times, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Satoru and Suguru walk to the other end of the enormous room, footsteps echoing while Shoko murmurs softly. “I’m Ieri.”

“Thank you for… saving me, Ieri.” Your own quiet name makes her smile a bit, as she looks at Satoru and Suguru. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

“Hmm, I guess they were. Let me check this heart rate, okay?” You nod, eyeing the two quiet men, as your disoriented mind and sore body process what happened.

“I know you owe me no favors, Satoru… but can I ask for one?” Satoru frowns now, leaning against the wall, as you sit up with Shoko’s help and speak quietly.

“You stopped the attack, if you’re willing to give this up, I’ll do you any favor.” He says, making Suguru sigh.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve Satoru.

He deserves no happiness for what he’s done, the horror in your eyes, the fear of the unknown, the baby just barely growing that surely would not survive with him near you. You look at him across the room, with those sad, broken eyes - he’d never made you happy, not once - yet you truly tried. You begged him to fucking stay and what did he do, what did he cause?

“I am taking Mimiko and Nanako far away.” Satoru’s blue eyes widen now.

“And your wife, yes?

“No.”

“Suguru, are you fucking serious, what more does the girl have to do to be with you!? She almost died to save you, not just everyone.” Satoru’s voice is a hushed whisper, eyes narrowed.

“That’s just it, I’m no good for her, or the baby if it… makes it. Chances are with me and how devastated I make her, it won't.”

“Suguru, she will forgive you.” Satoru puts a hand on his former best friend’s shoulder, coated in blood, and Suguru doesn’t shove it off, he takes a breath instead, shaking his head.

“She will, and so will you, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her and I never did.”

“So become the man she needs, you’re not too-”

Suguru laughs harshly, taking Satoru’s hand off now, holding it for a moment, a million memories of their friendship falling as his hand falls. “Both of you make excuses, but I see what I did to her.”

“She’ll be okay, Shoko-”

“She’ll never be okay. Satoru, I have to ask you…”

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking run, seriously!?” Suguru yanks him out of the room, out of your earshot now, Satoru crosses his arms, as the door echoes in the cold empty halls of the abandoned building they’d shielded Shoko in.

“Take care of her.” At Suguru’s broken words, tears feeling once cold eyes, Satoru falters, lips parting. “Take care of the baby if it… makes it.”

He glares, shoving at his old friend, who’s too down to not let him budge with the movement, forlorn look on his face. “You take care of them, become better.”

Suguru shakes his head. “I can’t face her. I can’t face what I’ve done, I need to go. Far, far away.”

“For how long!?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I know it’s a lot to ask - but I also know I can trust you to take care of her.” Satoru’s furious, not at the thought of taking care of you, but the fact that Suguru is running, that he still even now can’t accept love. “You will take care of her better than I could.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. She chose to come here, can’t you give her a chance?” Suguru peers through the door window, the thick pane of glass, sighing and touching it longingly, while Shoko checks your vitals.

“Please, for the friendship we had, take care of her. The girl I love.” Satoru’s own emotions make his throat close, while Suguru realizes just how deeply he loves you, more than he even could admit. But he didn’t choose you, no matter how deeply you begged him to, no he left you alone in that bed.

He can’t forgive himself for it.

He is not sure he cares about any other casualties, he wishes he did care more for that - he still sees humans as pests, he does not share Satoru’s view and maybe never will. But you so clearly need him to, and he realizes he’s too far in his own hatred still, you were that exception, that bright spot. You were the one regret he now holds, and he knows he loves you enough to let you go.

“Please look after her for me, Satoru.”

“Jesus christ, Suguru.” He swipes a hand through his long white hair, looking at you in that room, sighing. “Of course I will take care of her and the baby. But it should not be me.”

“Thank you.” Suguru puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, and for a moment Satoru sees him - the best friend he ever had, making what he thinks is the best decision for a girl he loves. He loves and feels, still deep down, and something breaks Satoru down then. “I went too far.”

He scoffs at that, sighing. “Understatement of the century. I will not tell her goodbye for you, though. You need to at least explain your stupid decision.”

Satoru walks back into the room, looking down at you now, you’re weak but alive, and he still senses two energies with his powerful six eyes. He gently holds out his hands, and you take them, using his help to stand, shaky now. “Are you feeling okay, sweets?”

“I’m okay.” You nod a smile just a bit, turning to Shoko. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. We’ll… give you two a moment.” She reads the room clearly, Satoru and Shoko have known each other so long it really just takes a look.

You watch curiously as they walk out, and Suguru has tears in his violet eyes, something you never thought you’d see, his face so serious and sullen it makes you panic. “Did they say the baby-”

“No, no, for now it all looks fine. Shh.” He pulls you against his strong chest, and you fall apart, sobbing now, shaking your head and shoving at him. “I know.”

“You know!? You know? You left me. You chose this over me.” You pull back, furious, chest heaving with the quickness of your breaths, your own cheeks covered in your tears now.

“I did. And that’s why I’m no good for you.”

You pause now, gasping. “What!?”

“It was selfish, so selfish not to let you run when you wanted to.” You’re shaking as he cups your face, thumb tracing your cheek, brushing aside the onslaught of tears, exhaling and leaning low. “I almost killed you.”

“You didn’t almost kill me, you almost killed everyone! Suguru, I’m fine.”

“Tch, are you!?” His grip on your waist draws you closer, while your head falls back, and you stare into a monster’s eyes - a monster you love. “Are you fine? You almost died.”

“I chose to come here, you can’t blame Satoru when I begged him to bring me. I had to try to save them, those innocent people!”

“It worked.”

You sigh, shaking further, burying your face against his chest, he’s covered in sweat and grime and blood from the battle, but you don’t care. “Are you done with this foolish effort?”

“I’m done.” You look up in shock, cupping his face now, and he leans so low, until your breaths mingle, hand shaking as it holds you.

“Thank God. Oh Suguru, thank God.” You pull him down for a kiss, full of all the relief in your heart. You’ve saved him, everyone is okay - glimpses of hope and something beautiful fill you with a light you’ve never had. He kisses you back so deeply, exhaling against your lips, deepening it and pulling you so tightly, his hard body enveloping yours.

“I should have told you.” He whispers, pulling back, lips almost against yours, nose brushing against yours.

You gulp, throat dry, in so much fear of what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do. “Told me what?”

“I love you. Fuck I love you, love when you hit me, love when you called me out, love the fire inside you.” His declaration makes your heart shatter, you want to be happy, but you feel it - his apprehension, his fear.

“Suguru…”

“I love you and don't deserve you.”

You glare now. “Don’t you do this, don’t you run.”

“Baby, this is how I can show how much I love you.” He cups your face with two big hands and long fingers, you’re glaring through your tears, gripping his wrists.

“Don’t you dare.” You whisper, teeth clenched, you feel it then, you feel him pushing you away, when he’s just close enough.

“Satoru will take care of you both, better than I could, he’ll be good to you-”

“What!? You’re shoving me off on your fucking friend?” You shove at his chest now, but he doesn’t budge, even as you smack at it, he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of his grip. “If you love me you’ll run away with me, we can start over.”

The desperation in your voice tempts him to no end, god he’d love it, but he knows how much you’d suffer, always. “I am leaving, starting over.”

“Not with me?” Your hurt pours through every word, and Suguru wants to bring you, god he does, but he knows it so clearly - he could never make you happy.

“You’ll be better off this way. You and the baby.”

“Bullshit, it’s such bullshit Suguru!”

“It’s the truth, I love you enough to finally do this.” He brushes your hair back tenderly, you smack his hand scowling up at him.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to abandon me after not choosing me - just to not choose me again!”

“It’s not that,” your sobs wrack your body, as he steps back, brushing back his tangled dark locks. “I am choosing your happiness.”

“Why can’t it be with you?” Your broken whisper makes his heart break, but he loves you so much, he just knows.

This is right.

“I can’t look you in those beautiful eyes and know what pain I caused, I can’t have you looking at the monster I am.”

“You’re my fucking monster, okay? Mine!” You shove him again, he just sighs, defeated. “I love you Suguru Geto. I do, despite it all, despite how completely fucked in the brain you were, I love you dammit. You can’t just leave me now, like I’m some damn pet you can’t take care of. I love-”

He’s slammed his lips again, desperate and hungry, and you fall into him, as his kisses grow more and more ardent, pulling back just to take a breath, hand slipping up your spine. The contact alone makes you shiver, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, so much emotion in this one kiss you wish it would last forever, fingers clinging to the silk of his robes.

“Don’t do this. I can only forgive so much.” He sighs at that, as you’re sniffling, eyes fucking burning.

“You’ll thank me one day, if we meet again - how happy you’ll be without me.” He breaks away then, as you crumble, holding your stomach while the sobs seem fucking endless.

“Don’t leave me, please, not again, I can’t take it.” He looks back at you as he stands by that door, pulled between being selfish and selfless.

But only for a moment.

“I’ll love you till I take my last breath. You’re not just human, you are the most special thing that’s existed.” You collapse to the floor while he walks out, the world collapsing around you, the hope you had for just a moment crushed.

He will never choose you.

“Suguru go the fuck back in there, stop feeling sorry for yourself, what are you doing to that girl?” Satoru shoves at him then, but Suguru knows it, he can’t live with himself let alone be with you, cause you pain, ruin you further.

“A moment of pain in order to be free of me. She thinks she’s in love with me now, but it’s because of her being trapped. She just thinks she does, but I don’t deserve it, not worthy of it.”

“You don’t think you deserve it, so earn it. Just stop this bullshit.” 

“Satoru, thank you for not… giving up. But I can’t live with what I did, seeing it in her eyes every day. Please, just care for her.” Satoru glares and crosses his arms.

“Running away. You’re just running away.”

“Good bye, Satoru.” Suguru is gone, just like that, leaving Satoru to punch the wall in anger, and of course it starts crumbling with his strength, you gasp out in shock at the sound and he curses, resting his head for a moment.

He almost had his best friend back.

He walks in to see you so small and helpless in the big room on the floor, holding yourself in a hug, devastating to look at, when your eyes meet his. Satoru walks up to you then, sitting right on the ground, his legs crossed, brushing his fingers comfortingly against your shoulder. You’re shaking so badly, skin hot to the touch, he can even hear how fast your heart was.

“Sit up, sweetheart.” You do it with his help, you feel weak and devastated beyond repair, while he pulls you against his chest, holding you to him, letting you cry against his dark jacket, rubbing your back up and down.

“You don’t have to take care of me, S-satoru okay, I c-can do it alone. I have family that may understand-”

“No.” His word is firm, precise, you tilt your head up and look into brilliant blue eyes, lips pressed together. “I promised him and I won’t break it.”

“I’ll just be some burden to you. It’s bullshit, him leaving, bullshit.”

“Yeah. I know. But I will take care of you. Okay?” You shake your head, sniffling now. “I will.”

“I believe you, but how could he? After… I told him I loved him.” Satoru tenderly brushes your cheek, swiping some of your tears.

“He doesn’t believe he deserves it from either of us.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Satoru sighs.

“I don’t know. But for now, come on.” He stands carefully, picking your still weak body in his arms.

“I can walk.”

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” Your lips barely twitch, as you hold onto his neck.

“I guess so. I’m sorry you’re just stuck with-”

“Shh, it’s fine. Let’s get you somewhere you can rest.”

*****

One year later

You lay your little girl Noa down in her crib for the night, smiling as you touch her precious cheek, and Satoru leans in the doorway, smiling at the two of you. Her dark locks resemble her father, but aside from that she’s a spitting image of you. You look up at Satoru as you put a finger to your lips, signaling for him to be quiet, and he crooks his two fingers, asking you to come out.

“You can have a little wine now, she’s on formula mostly now, right?” He murmurs, as he takes your hand in his, and you pause - because it feels too good lately. God, he looks too good, after a year of living with him, having him hold you, hold your baby.

Satoru was literally her father, he helped you constantly, and you never paid for a thing, despite your frequent protests. Satoru went above and beyond anything you assumed when he promised Suguru that day - and the two of you have never talked to him since. The last Satoru found out, he moved to another country with the two girls, and the rest of the cult silently disbanded.

You miss Suguru every day, but Satoru slowly fills the void, the huge black hole he left when he abandoned you that day, and though you’ll always love Suguru Geto, as well Satoru, clearly, you also feel more and more for the man taking care of you. Even though you’ve fought it, for months after the baby it changed, how attractive you find him, hating yourself for it.

How can you pine away for a man never coming back?

But how can you move on after a love like that?

But you don’t realize Satoru can’t stop craving you, aching for you - also feeling fucking horrible. Suguru asked him to take care of you, and it was like he knew he would also grow to love you, but for different reasons than Suguru. He loves how funny, sarcastic and sweet you are. He loves how much you adore your little girl, and he loves her too.

He loves how you smile, how your cheeks get warm when he presses a friendly kiss on them, how the lights hit your pretty face. How sweet your scent is, how easy it is to be with you. Cooking together, taking care of Noa, just existing, you bring peace he didn’t know existed, as Satoru feels like a real home to you.

Satoru can’t imagine not coming home to the two of you, sometimes missions can last weeks, but you’re ready with a perfect meal and his favorite dessert. You’re always so happy when he comes home, hugging him tightly. The two of you hold each other, talking about Suguru at times, and how much you miss him, how much Satoru misses him.

Once last week you were crying, he had you against his chest, tilting your chin up, whispering the sweetest words. You felt all those body changes, the stretch marks, the extra skin, but he told you - ‘you’re gorgeous, okay?’ and you’d faltered, you almost kissed him, if not for your little girl crying.

You both had avoided each other that night after, he’d blushed furiously, as had you, but that was when something shifted, and the need grew more and more. Now looking at your joined hands, longing breaks through, but along with that so much confusion.

Could you be with someone else?

His best friend, that he left you with, did Suguru… expect this? Or would he be devastated, or would he even care? Did he keep tabs on you and the daughter he abandoned - for what he felt were the right reasons - or was it something he shoved far back. At times you were furious at Suguru for it, at times distraught, but sometimes you realize your life has become happy.

“Sorry…” Satoru pulls back now, that pink on his high cheeks again, but you take his hand back, shaking your head.

“I can drink a little wine, I’d enjoy some.” You smile and he exhales in relief, leading you down just one set of his elegant staircase. Satoru lived in a whole mansion honestly. But it still felt homey, it wasn’t like Suguru’s…

Suguru.

You loved him.

He left you.

And the man across from you pouring wine in your glass is beautiful, with his soft sweater and freshly washed hair, tousled just so, blue eyes soft as they study you carefully, you’re falling more, day by day. It’s not the insane madness, the brutal craziness of Suguru, it was something soft and sweet and beautiful.

“Want to watch our show?” He asks, and you nod, taking the glass from his fingers, they softly brush each other, sending trembles through the both of you, while your eyes lock, fingers staying there a moment too long. “Taste it.”

You take a breath, putting the sweet red wine to your lips, moaning at how good it is, a little drop on the corner of your mouth that he swipes away gently. You pause, as he stands there, leaning low, the huge house so quiet, your heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing to your head.

“Sorry.” He says again, clearing his throat, but you set the glass down, stepping up to him, so close, too close. Satoru’s hands ache to touch you, his lips die to touch yours. “Everything okay?”

“No. It’s not.” You sigh, hands slipping up his soft sweater, under that material, touching his bare chest and feeling it tense, a soft growl from his throat, when his hand entangles in your hair then.

“Keep touching me like that, and I will lose it.” His firm words, when he’s usually so sweet, just make you more excited, tummy flipping, clenched with desire.

“Lose what?” You touch him again, and his breath quickens, as he leans even lower, stepping you back, bit by bit, lips so close while you’re being pressed until the back of your knees hit the couch.

“The control. I can’t take you touching me.” He grips your wrists, and you turn him then, pressing him on the couch, straddling him, he gasps, as your own control fades to nothing. “You’re pushing me around, huh?”

“Maybe I am, Toru.” The nickname ruins him, as your lips crash against his, for the first time - and it feels far too good.

You never knew if you’d feel good again, the endless nights of crying for the man that left you, not once but twice, that put so much ahead of you, only to not even choose his baby, his friend, you. But you don’t hold resentment, no you still love that man, the one who ran from you all, but you feel good, Satoru’s lips are perfect, and for once you can let it go.

Just in this moment, let it all go, nothing but how perfect Satoru’s tongue feels against yours, as he’s so gently holding back. You’re grinding on him, earning his throaty moan, soaking wet when you feel his length, god you want him. You can’t stop it anymore, wanting the man who does everything for you and Noa, despite knowing how deeply connected he is to Suguru.

“God, I’ve wanted you,” Satoru’s kissing up your neck, as a hand grips your breast so gently, like he’s scared to hurt you, lips hovering on the shell of your ear now. “Tell me to stop, tell me I’m a bad friend.”

You shake your head, taking a breath. “You’re not, look at how good you take care of…. mmm, us… ah!” He’s nipped your ear with his teeth, moaning as he does, the sound igniting something inside you laid dormant.

“He shouldn’t have asked me.” He pulls back, a serious look on his face. “Now I’ve fallen, and fuck if I can stop if we go any further.”

You cup his face now, arching your hips just so, making him whimper softly, snowy lashes lowered as your heat hits him, rushing across his cock in those sweats now. His hands slip down to them, as he presses kisses on your breasts, swollen just a bit still from the baby, tempting him to no end.

“I’ve only… with him.” He pauses, blinking up at you in surprise, and you feel yourself flustered at admitting it.

“Shit that makes it worse for me to do.”

“It’s not… I… just wanted to tell you. I’m not the most experienced at certain things.” He nods then, swallowing, pressing up and watching your head fall back, making him throb harder with need.

“It’s been a year for me, so it’s been a bit, okay?” You blink in shock.

“You haven’t with…”

“How can I?” You’re kissing him more desperately now, feeling your body respond to every touch, every kiss, every brush.

“Please.” Your whisper ruins Satoru, he’s felt himself lose the will to stop, to rationalize it, but he can’t find rationale with you.

“Then we take it slow for you.” He lifts you off him, laying your back on that couch now, fingers trailing so delicately, it’s not rough, angry, brutal, it’s like he’s softly mapping your body, inch by inch, until he runs them up your thigh, parting them. “But make your decision, sweetheart, I won’t be able to stop.” His desperation is felt with every quick breath of yours, cunt growing slicker.

“I want you, Satoru… I have for… a long time.” He exhales, sliding down your body, sweet kisses on your thighs, thumb pressing your panties, and you cry out, covering your face then.

“She can’t hear you from down here, let go. Feel.” He’s kissing your thighs higher, hungrier as he slips down your shorts, tossing them, lapping at your soaked panties with his tastebuds, while blue eyes look up under hooded lids.

“Satoru!” You’re gripping his hair, so tightly it hurts, while he tastes it, the sweetness he’s been dying to for most of the time you’ve lived here. He fought it, so hard, but how can he not want you? When you look like that, feel like that, taste like this, it’s making him fucking feral, losing his strong control. “Sorry!”

“No, pull it.” He pulls your panties aside, studying your pretty pussy, you shyly almost cover your tummy a bit when he pauses you. “You’re beautiful, you were beautiful pregnant too.”

“Oh I, ah!” He’s parted them now, pressing a kiss to your bare, glistening cunt, and your body relaxes, while his hand covers your tummy.

“I thought it was so sexy pregnant, couldn’t say it.” He shakes his head, while tears of emotion and desire fill, he makes you feel so beautiful, so desired then.

The only time Suguru had done that was the last time.

One last time.

It feels so far away, so different, but you feel it in your heart - you love Satoru, you still love Suguru - fuck, Satoru loves Suguru still. But you both have to finally let him go, just a bit, and together you both do, as he’s delving into your slick, gummy walls with his long, talented tongue, all while studying you, so careful, watching every movement of your body.

There are no ‘i hate yous’ and there is no anger.

You just want him, and want him so badly.

You hate yourself for it, but at the same time, you deserve to feel loved, to feel happy, devoted as Satoru worships you, freely. He’s flicking his tongue on your clit in quick, sure flicks, as his long fingers sink in your eager cunt, hitting your g spot with just enough pressure you feel your orgasm taking you over.

“Satoru, oh my god I’m…”

“Cum, let me sip you sweetheart, that’s it.” He encourages softly, and you do, gushing all over his pretty face, he kisses you then, your taste swathed on his lips, desperate as you slip off his pants, stroking his thick, long cock, watching him whine over you. “Are you still sure?” He asks once more, tip against your entrance.

“I want this.” He exhales in relief, a hand entwining with yours as he sinks inside of you, no pain just a delicious fucking stretch, that has you screaming out, so loud he kisses you.

“Maybe not that loud, hmm?” He smirks, and you giggle - fuck you giggle all the time with him, don’t you? A far cry from the sad, depressed girl you were.

“Sorry, f-feels s’good…” He moans now, feeling your walls grip his cock, and he can’t take it, shoving your thighs up high, you gasp as he does, sinking deeper, tip against your cervix. He’s slow, letting you feel every fucking inch, as you spasm around him so close again.

“I’d love to put a baby in you, don’t you see, I’m horrible.” He rests his head on yours as his huge hands press up your thighs, and you gasp, clinging to the couch desperately as he works you. “I want all of you. I shouldn’t.”

He shouldn’t, right?

But how can he not.

He loves you.

With every stroke, kiss and whisper, you fall apart, dropping the last of your barriers for him, feeling the peak closer and closer. “You want that, Satoru?”

“God yes. You are so p-pretty pregnant, fuck… I shouldn’t have thought all those things…”

“Tell me.” Your whisper ends him, he’s slamming his cock, covering your mouth as your eyes roll back.

“Wanted you then, tits swollen, tummy so full, all I could think of was how I wanted to suck these pretty nipples, drink up all that milk from them.” He lets your thighs fall, they squeeze his hips, when he kisses a breast, bowing his back to do so, and your hands press into his strong biceps, as you whine out. “I’ve wanted you, sweetheart. Now I want you to cum on me.”

You’re done, with one more roll of his hips, you’re cumming so hard you can’t keep quiet, he’s gotta put that hand back on your mouth, watching your eyes roll back in your skull. He whispers as the orgasm rides over you ‘that’s it, sweets, there you go, so pretty’ as he presses kisses, letting you cum down, until he fills you up himself, so much cum.

He hasn’t been with anyone in a year.

How could he be, when you lived here?

You’re cumming with him again, tears falling as you kiss him, and he pulls back, frowning with worry. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m just really happy, Satoru.” Your tremulous smile ends him, and soon you’re in his bed, in his arms as he presses kisses on your shoulder. He sighs, addressing the silent thoughts while you both stare out his window at the night sky.

“Do you think he knew I’d fall in love with you?” You frown a bit, looking back at him now, your hand tightening over his.

“I don’t know. But Satoru, I love you too.” He kisses you softly, nuzzling your noses together. “You still love Suguru.”

“And so do you.” You nod then, and he swallows a bit, smiling now. “That’s okay, it’s okay to still love him.”

“Even though he’s an emo bitch?” Satoru snorts, as do you, through your emotions.

“Even though he’s emo enough for a whole 2006 band by himself.”

“With a god complex.”

“Well… I have that too.”

“I have curious taste.” He chuckles, and you turn in his embrace, brushing his soft white locks back, kissing him again, until the two of you fall back into each other, the entire night.

*****

Two years since you saw or heard from Suguru Geto

Suguru swallows nervously as he knocks on his old friend’s door - wondering if you still lived there. He was sure Satoru moved you in, why wouldn’t he? He knows you were in good hands, surely, but finally, he feels it - the draw to come back. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him, but he wants to see you, and to see his child for the first time.

He wonders, was it a boy or girl?

The door opens, and he expects his friend, only to have to look down at that face that’s haunted his dreams, his thoughts for two years. Your eyes are wide when you see him, as if you’ve seen a fucking ghost, and maybe he was to you, your mouth open wide as he hears giggling, tinkling like a little bell.

“Get here, you little brat!” Satoru’s laughing, running after a quick little girl with chubby arms flailing, and Suguru sees her then.

His daughter.

He looks back to you, opening his mouth to say something, anything, when he gazes at your body, and sees the changes.

You’re pregnant.

Satoru stops and picks up the little girl, grinning at you before he sees Suguru, then his own eyes widen, while the little girl just giggles waving at Suguru, not knowing who he was. How could she? His heart breaks into pieces when he sees her perfect face, she looks just like you, aside from already long black hair, silky and tied up in a cute little pony tail.

She’s precious, she’s perfect.

He feels it, what’s been missing, when he manages a little smile at her, and Satoru steps closer, while you’re still stunned, as you see him. You never thought you’d see him again, this past year has been spent living your life with Satoru and your daughter, and then you’d found out you were expecting. Satoru was oddly traditional, putting a ring on your finger one day.

‘You’re kind of married to my best frenemy but this will do for now’

He’d said it so casually you’d giggled, as he carried you to the room, the lovemaking was endless between you, but moreso it was the friendship- a beautiful friendship, truly. A partnership built on mutual love of Suguru at first, but of course it blossomed, until you were each other’s world, though you saw Suguru every day in your daughter.

Two years. No word.

He looks different, he’s slimmer and less buff, his hair is shorter and tied up, and he has some dark circles, but he’s as handsome as you remember. He clears his throat a bit now, rubbing the back of his neck, gone was the insanely commanding man, and replaced was one just a little unsure.

Your heart splits in half.

“Suguru, come in.” Satoru’s words surprise him, as he looks at you again, your hand on your tummy.

Is this how you looked pregnant with his daughter?

“Please come in, Suguru.” You whisper, and he nods, trying to placate a smile on his face as everything threatens him, to yank you in his arms, kiss you, press you against that wall. To tell you how badly he’s craved it, your taste, your moans, your pretty sighs, how he’s not stopped thinking of you.

But you’ve moved on, it’s clear as day with your bump growing, with how your daughter calls Satoru ‘papa’ then. He wants to be furious, but he caused it, he shoved you right into Satoru’s arms, and knew he’d fall for you, just like Suguru did. How could anyone not love you.

“Hi! Hi!” The girl says, and Suguru smiles at her, stepping closer, as she cups his cheek with her little hand.

“Hi there. I’m your parents… very distant best friend.” His soft declaration eats you alive, as you and Satoru eye each other for a moment.

“Play! Play!” Suguru chuckles, you’re not sure you really ever heard that from him, unless it was dark, mocking.

“Let’s give them a minute to catch up, clean up for dinner. You staying for dinner, Suguru?” Satoru asks, so casually as if they were just old friends, and Suguru almost breaks down.

He doesn’t deserve to be invited in.

He didn’t deserve either of your love.

“If you’d like me to.” He directs the question to you, and you nod a little, smiling tremulously.

“Please do.”

“Then it’s settled, be back sweetheart.” Satoru plants a kiss right on your lips, and you melt just a bit, before tensing, glaring at Satoru as he grins. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous!” He just chuckles, winking as he takes her to get cleaned up, leaving you with Suguru, who’s scowling at his retreating figure.

“He’s as annoying as ever.” You burst into laughter, before it turns to tears, and Suguru falters, holding a hand up, hovering near your cheek. “Fuck, I… I am so sorry I left. I’m sorry for it all.”

“It’s okay, just please, stay for dinner. Let us see you again. Let her meet you, please.” You’re a mess, and he hugs you against his chest now, feeling your tummy nudge him, your breasts against his chest, a mix of fury and understanding, longing and loathing.

 “Are you happy?” His question is simple.

You are happy.

But you missed him, fuck you missed him. But now…

“Suguru um, I…” You sigh, holding his hand, stepping back just a bit, and his other hand brushes aside your tears. “I’m happy with Satoru. I love him. I know you must hate me for saying this-”

“No.” He puts a finger to your lips, pausing, looking just how beautiful they are, how beautiful you are, you always were. “I saw how he looked at you the day you met, I knew this would happen.”

“Then why!? Then why!” You pull back, shaking your head, and Suguru looks away, jaw clenching.

“I knew he’d make you happy and I couldn’t. And I loved you enough to let you have it.” Your heart is shattered into a million pieces, the baby kicks in response and you cry out just a bit. “Calm down, please…”

“I just don’t get it, I don’t get you Suguru, maybe I never will. Are you back or just… visiting?” You’re swiping at your own tears.

“I’m here for a bit. I came to see you both. Well… all three of you.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Your daughter, she’s beautiful.”

“Her name is Noa.” You say, and Suguru can’t stop the smile from growing, brushing your hair off your shoulder.

“Love?”

“Love.” You touch his hand with a small smile. “Please stay for dinner, and… just talk.”

“I kind of want to kill Satoru even more than before.”

“Wanna take this outside then?” Satoru’s cocky grin meets Suguru’s eye roll - and you know this memory well from Satoru’s tales - of a basketball game with the two of them, over ten years ago now. But you see it.

They still love each other, even though Satoru has you against his side, possessive hand on your waist, and Suguru’s violet eyes glare a bit. “You took my wishes a little too far.”

“Should’ve been more specific, less emo.”

“Satoru I swear-”

“Hi, hi! Up, up!” Noa runs to Suguru, surprising Satoru and you both, as the little girl really only loves you two.

Suguru leans down, picking her up in his arms, grinning bigger than you’ve ever seen, as you barely hold it together, Satoru’s hand soothing on your back, pressing a kiss on your temple. “You’re mine, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

“Possessive, hmm?” You smile up at him, and he sighs, looking over at his friend and his daughter.

“Very, but… it’s nice to have him home.” Satoru’s words are only meant for your ears, as you glance at a man you loved, a toxic man - one who made horrible decisions - but you see it, his change, his genuine adoration of Noa then. And you look back at the other man you love, so deeply, and something about it…

Feels perfect.

Now if you read this after I warned you, I'll hear no complaining aha - if you're reading both, happy Suguru end will be VERY soon. If you just wanted the sad ending, I hope you enjoyed. It's bittersweet <3 This is how I intended it to end but so many ppl fell for our cult leader I'll have his own version. Ty for reading this~ if it's your chosen end, see you in my other ficsss!

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[badger2025]

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna…uuuhhhh” Tom was on his back, stroking out jets of spunk all over his belly while you were on your knees, balls deep, pushing your own load into his guts and grunting. Deed done, you kissed one of his knees you were holding, before looking down and watching yourself slowly pull your dick out of that sweet hole. You stood up, pulling and squeezing your softening tool to milk out the rest of your cum before wiping your hand on your stomach. Tom was laying there spent, still breathing heavy, but he gave you a little smirk “Do you have to go?” he asked

“Got to. That project starts today and the guys will be waiting” Then you leaned down to kiss him, pulling back, searching his eyes before kissing him again “I gotta rinse off and go. See you tonight?”

He smiled and nodded

After a long hot day on the tractor drilling holes and planting posts, you drove home to shower and feed your dogs before falling back into your favorite chair and taking a swig from your beer. After a minute you got your phone to text Tommy

“I’m home”

“How’d it go”

“Beat”

“Want some company?”

“Always”

Fifteen minutes later he was walking in the door to find you still in your chair…naked with a grin. “Nice” he smiled and pulled off his shirt before dropping his shorts and standing between your legs with a raging hard on…you reached out and took the little pearl of sap at the tip. “You look like a guy who needs a kiss” he smirked. You only smiled and nodded, then took a pull from your beer bottle

He put both hands on your knees, spreading your legs wide before lowering himself to the floor and grabbing hold of your shaft. Then he gave you that wicked grin and squeezed your dick…giving the tip a kiss before running his tongue up the sensitive underside. You closed your eyes and sighed as he wrapped his lips around the head and started suckling

You opened your eyes to watch this beautiful man looking up at you with your dick in his mouth. Your pecker throbbed, making him smile and swallow the entire length. The sensation of your tool in the back of his throat while he swallowed made you groan and place your hand on the side of his scruffy face. You pushed up slightly into his mouth, making him gag a little and pull back up to the tip. Then you moved your hand to the top of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair, gently pulling him back down. When he got to the base, he was swallowing again and rubbing his nose in your bush with a little hum that made your toes curl. You took another swig of your beer before setting the bottle on the table and placing both hands on either side of his face

Tom was beating his own dick and picking up the pace, starting to huff, opening his throat even more. You felt your nut sack drawing tight while he pressed a thumb into your taint. “I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum baby boy…. I’m gonna…AAAAGGHHH” You held his head tight and started to heave, pumping your spunk into his mouth while he moaned and swallowed, stroking out his load across the front of the chair and floor

Then he pulled back, squeezing your dick and licking the now sensitive tip to get every drop, making you yelp and jump before you collapsed back into your chair with a deep sigh followed by a chuckle “Fuck Tommy…that’s one hell of a kiss”

Then he reached between your legs, tugging your ball sack and smiled. “So Cole…you gonna buy me dinner or just send me to bed with a belly full of spunk?”

Follow me for more.

[mywritersmind]

TROUBLE - LN4 part two

previous part

og summary : Trouble comes in many forms, for Lando Norris, it comes in the shape of his teammates sister. A week at Oscars brings more temptation and impulse than any other start to a season.

summary : A day that was supposedly for Lando and his sight seeing turns into a day full of holding back touches, fast car rides, water fights, and his hand on hers.

listen up : i don’t know anything abt cars so don’t come for me if i said smt wrong abt the mclaren F1. dirty jokes. dual pov! comment to be on taglist!

words : 4082

⋆｡‧˚⋆

lando

I wake up to hushed voices outside my door. I practically roll out of bed, seeing that it’s five in the morning and moving to the door, still half asleep.

When I open it, I expect it to be Oscar with Lily or maybe even Nicole- what I don’t expect is a random man I've never seen, grinning down at Y/n.

She has her arms crossed and stops whispering when she sees me. She steps away from him, the man turning to look at me now. Y/n doesn’t say anything, just grabs his arm and tugs him down the hallway.

I watch her go, her hair a mess and her body barely covered by her sleep set. I blink, still confused and honestly too nosy to not get answers.

She’s back a minute later, shaking her head, “Don’t say a thing.”

I shrug, watching her run her hands over her face, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Then we’re both quiet, neither of us moving and a smirk growing on my face. She gives in easily, stomping her foot and groaning quietly, “He’s my ex. And neighbor.”

“That’s… fun.”

“No. It’s idiotic!” She leans against the wall, frowning still, “You can’t tell anyone. Oscar would freak if he saw him.”

This makes me stand up straighter, “Why?”

“He may or may not have broken my heart… long story.” She sighs, closing her eyes before turning fully towards me again, “And we didn’t do anything!”

I smile, “I believe you.”

“He just- wanted to ‘talk’.” She puts finger quotes over the word ‘talk’. “I shouldn’t have let him in.”

My eyes narrow, not judging her, just assessing her emotions. “But you did…?”

She looks at me as if I slapped her, “Go back to sleep, Lando.” I don’t think she’s ever said my first name before. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t worry-” My alarm goes off on my phone at the perfect moment, “I’m getting up to run, anyway.”

She nods, still looking tired but angsty, crossing her arms. I hesitated before saying, “Wanna come?”

I know I shouldn’t have said it the second she looks at me. Her eyes curious and way too distracting. “Really?”

“Why not?”

“Not like I'm gonna get any sleep after that.” She shivers as if she’s remembering the image of him in her room, “Okay. I’ll see you out front in ten.”

⋆༺

you

When accepting Lando’s offer to join him on his morning exercise, I forgot one thing.

I cannot run.

I’m out of breath and sweaty, falling onto the couch as Lando actually LAUGHS at me! “I think I'm dying.” I mumble, feeling like i’ve just ran a 10k.

“You don’t exercise much, do you?” He walks around the couch, a smoothie in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

I scoff, “Excuse you!” He hands me the water, something so simple but very sweet to me. I chug that shit, making my breath even more ragged, “Why would I!?”

He smiles, sitting down next to me and resting his arm on the back of the couch, “Well usually when you exercise, you tend to get better at specific things. If you start running everyday you won’t look like you’ve just crawled out hell-”

I hit him with a pillow, my skin on fire even in my tight shorts and sports bra. “Fuck you.” I whisper, standing up and walking into the kitchen so he doesn’t see me smile.

“Do you know what we’re doing today?” Lando looks back at me, watching me fill my water.

“Apparently I'm showing you around? I’m not sure.” I shrug, plopping a few ice cubes into my glass, “Lily and Oscar wanted to go to the beach so maybe that too-”

Oscar walks in then, his eyes tired as he yawns and waves weakly at me, “Speak of the devil.” I mumble as he glares at me.

“Good Morning to you my amazing and wonderful sister.” He grins at me, now I know he wants something.

“Pancakes?” I ask, knowing my brother too well.

“Favorite sister.” He ruffles my hair as I push him away. He turns and stops dead in his tracks. I realize that he must have just spotted Lando, the brit watching our sibling antics quietly.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, turning back to me and eyeing my outfit.

“We went for a run.” Lando says casually, bringing his straw to his lips.

“You got her up this early to… run?” Oscar asks skeptically as I understand that he’s not just shocked that I ran, but that I ran with Lando.

“I was already up.” I try to diffuse the tension I know is coming, “Trying to clear my find and stuff.” I pull the ingredients out of the cabinet and fridge, biting my tongue.

“Right…” Oscar shakes his head, seemingly letting it go and joining Lando on the couch. As Oscar scrolls through the TV, Lando glances back at me, not giving me a smile or anything before turning back to his teammate.

I turn to the stove, my eyes wide and cheeks red. This is going to be a long week.

⋆༺

lando

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?” I ask Oscar as he pushes past me to grab Lily’s bag.

“Lily just killed her foot-” He says, looking more worried than i’ve ever seen him, “I’m taking her to the hospital.”

Y/n walks in with Lily next to her, her hand around her waist as Lily’s arm is over her shoulder. She’s limping with a pained look on her face, “Shit. I can come- I’ll drive.”

“No it’s fine!” Lily says quickly, “I’ll be fine. You two can just go explore. You should have fun.”

Y/n looks from me to Oscar, “Lily we can come with you it’s really not a prob-”

“No!” She moves away from Y/n, hopping to Oscar who wraps his arm around her, “Just- send me pictures!” And with that, they’re gone.

Y/n looks at me, blinking. Nicole hurries back inside, shutting the door, “That boy I swear…”

“Mom, do you want to come with us today? Lily won’t be back for a while and you should-”

“I’ve gotta work, love.” She explains, “Take Lando to all the touristy spots!”

Y/n turns on her heels, looking at me skeptically, “So… what do you want to do first?”

⋆༺

you

What do you do when you’re tasked with exploring your home town with a man you’ve known for one day and are extremely attracted to?

In my mind, you take him to the best place for him to get as shirtless as possible… the beach! Even though my mom said that wasn’t good enough, I’ve been craving the water.

I still bring him there, how could I not!? Best beaches in Australia are right in my hometown. He’s probably all sad and broody from grey Britain anyway!

I know I already saw Lando shirtless yesterday, but this… this is different.

Tanned, wet, sandy, AND shirtless. His curls are wet and I'm pretty sure a smile is permanently drawn onto his face. He plops down next to me, music blasting from a speaker a couple people down.

“I love the sun.” He mumbles into the towel, sitting up and unknowingly flexing his arms. I breathe in and look back at the water.

“I can tell. I’m jealous. I wish I got as tan as you.” I flick sand onto him as he rolls onto his back. He’s in blue and reminds me a bit too much of prince eric.

“Yeah you might wanna sunscreen up.” He teases, pressing my arm as if I'm bright red! I do not burn that easily, thank you!

I scoff as he tosses the bottle at me, “Fuck off!” I grab it, “You wanna put it on me?” my manner changes in an instant, seeing an opportunity and taking it.

His tooth catches on his lip as he nods. I smile and hand him the bottle gently. Ah, men… So easy to manipulate. So easy to trick.

I move my hair from my back slowly, but the second I hear the bottle unlatch, I spin around and grab it, squeezing it onto him.

“Trouble!” He yells, the sunscreen on his chest and splattered onto his face. I’m running away before he can even open his eyes again. “Get back here!”

I run straight into the water, diving under the first wave and regretting it as soon as his hand meets my ankle. He tugs me back as I come back up for air, his hands fully white and coming straight for me. “No!” I scream, trying to swim away, but his hand is on my waist and smearing the sunblock all down my arm.

“Cunt!” I yell louder, shoving him under water. He pops back up, coughing and laughing.

“You’re so dramatic!” His hands are clean now, shaking out his wet curls onto me.

“You basically called me pale!” I argue, laying back in the water and catching my breath, “I reacted like a sane woman.”

“Nothing about you is sane.” He dunks his head again. I watch him go under and match him, not being able to see him in the salt water but feeling him there.

“You’re the one who fell for it.” I shrug, not forgetting the want in his eyes.

He shakes his head, sinking into the water again so I can only see his head and shoulders, “I’m understanding the trouble thing more and more...”

I can’t help but smirk, “Good thing you can handle it.” Him. The dim kitchen light. The ice cream. His fucking eyes never leaving mine.

“You want me to handle you?” This, surprises me.

He’s matching me quicker than I expected.

I just smile and swim to shore, “Come on, Norris! We’ve got plans!”

Like I said, my mom said the beach wasn’t enough ( even though it’s only his first day here! ) so we took Oscar’s Mclaren and booked it to Fitzroy market.

Lando said he likes shopping and my favorite place to do it is here! The area is crowded with people in way cooler outfits than me and vendors with tons of vintage items.

Lando and I are still in beach wear. He’s in all black, probably baking in the sun but looking ridiculous in a shirt with cutoff sleeves and backwards hat, a camera slung around his neck.

I gravitate to some vintage juicy couture while Lando is on the rack over looking at jerseys. The woman working the booth grins when she sees me. “Y/n! My girl!” She hops over to me, side stepping the others around, “How’ve you been!?”

“Mitch!” I grin right back at her, “Better than ever, babe, i’m out of school!” She laughs, her full head of curls bouncing with her. “How are you!? Business is booming, I see!”

“Amazing! Broke up with Jonah too…” She looks down, her glasses shading her eyes for a second before she pops right back up, “But fuck him!”

“Fuck him!” I join in.

“Yeah, Fuck him.” Says a deeper voice. Jonah comes walking up behind Mitch, wrapping an arm around her before she has the chance to push him away.

“Hey, J.” I roll my eyes at him, respecting his role in Mitch’s life but definitely not the way he dated her.

“Hey.” Mitch sways my arm, leaning in a bit and lowering her voice, “Who’s the hottie?”

I glance back to my companion for the day, he’s holding up a jacket at the booth over and talking to the guy who runs it. “That is Lando…” I turn back to them.

“Boy toy?” Jonah raises a brow as I shake my head.

Not yet.

“Boyfriend?” Mitch looks so shocked that It makes me laugh.

“No! Boy i’m showing around today.” I clarify, “And someone I should probably go after before he gets lost.”

Mitch and Jonah nod, both knowing the extreme confusion one can get into at the market. I kiss Mitch on the cheek and wave goodbye to both of them.

When I turn around, Lando is handing money over to the man and smiling when he sees me. There’s that smile again.

He swings the bag in his hand as we walk away, “You come here often?” The curly haired man glances back at my friends.

“Maybe too much.” I shrug, “Mostly because Mitch carries the best shit ever.”

“Oh yeah?” He nods, “I heard you two talking… what’s up with the tall one?” I laugh when he refers to Jonah.

“They’re… a lot. Soulmates? Maybe. But definitely not meant for eachother. You know? At least, not right now.”

He scrunches up his nose, “I don’t know.”

“They love each other and stuff but Jonah needs to get his life together. All we can do is help Mitch get over him and pray that we don’t end up like them.” It sounds mean, but the two really are in a situation that I would hate.

“Shit.” He nods as we turn into a booth with a million shoes, “I had something like that once.”

This makes me turn to him suddenly, “Yeah?”

“Without the soulmates part… I think I may have been Jonah in that situation. Thank fuck it’s over, though. The girl was not as nice as Mitch.” I nod and smile at his use of my friends love life, “What do you think of these?”

The conversation switches to a horrendous pair of sneakers he’s holding up, “Oh babe… no.” I make him put them back and drag him to the correct section.

He’s like my own barbie doll! One that can talk and definitely bite back.

I knew I would lose Lando in this godforsaken place! I’m in too deep and have three bags in my hands.

I walk around to find him, possibly getting distracted by all the pretty things, but settling my eyes on him once again at a plant shop.

He’s in the corner talking to two girls and a guy, looking a bit shy and way too hot in his backwards cap. I watch him for a second, weaving through the people and walking across some shops.

He finds me pretty fast, it’s probably due to the all white i’m wearing in a sea of colorful button downs and denim. I can see him excusing himself and hurrying over to me, “You left me.”

I laugh, “I lost you!”

He shakes his head and starts walking away, “Sorry prissy, I forgot I'm babysitting you.”

He shakes his head, smiling back at me, “I got cornered by fans.”

“Better than me being there and having rumors spread on twitter of your ‘possible new girl’.” I laugh and walk out of the crowd, the sun hot on us and making me crave a cool drink.

He laughs at this, “You wish.”

I scoff, turning back to face him, “I can leave your ass in the middle of melbourne, you know?” I hold up the keys to my brothers car as he steps closer.

“I dare you.” He says, “I guarantee if you got into that car alone you’d be in a wall in five seconds flat.”

I swat the keys at him, “I’m a great driver!”

“Not in that.” He shakes his head, “Has Oscar ever actually let you driven it?”

I bite my lip, not answering.

His eyes flick down to my lips, then back up at my eyes, “Come on then.” He snatches the keys right out of my hand!

“Norris!” I yell, hurrying after him and across the street as he walks faster, “Hey!”

I catch up to him on the other side, he’s still swinging the keys around his finger with a grin on his face, “Where’s the most open, empty road you know?”

I raise a brow and follow him into the parking structure, “Why…?”

Our car is easy to spot, he walks over to it, and to my surprise, finds his way to the passengers side. Looking at me over the expensive car, he tosses me the keys, “We’re gonna hit two hundred in this thing and I want to make sure there’s no bystanders in the car of your havoc.”

He slides into the car, making me squeal and swing the door open quickly, sliding into the way far back driver's seat and turning the keys into the ignition.

He sees my eyes light up as I adjust the seat, “You ever kart as a kid?”

“A bit. Got kicked out a few times.”

“Why…?”

I eye him and click my seatbelt into place, “Too fast, too reckless…”

He shakes his head and mumbles a curse under his breath before tightening his seatbelt. “Don’t make me regret this.”

⋆༺

lando

I was right. Oscar has never let her drive his Mclaren before, and for good reason.

She can’t drive stick shift, first of all. But I only let her briefly panic before I grab a hold of the stick and tell her to go slow.

She does not go slow. Tate Mcrae is blasting through the speakers as she speeds up the empty street with the windows rolled down. The street is right next to the beach and I can see the sun about to go down.

Y/n break checks me and makes me hold on tighter. My arm is around the back of her seat so I can control the stick shift with my dominant hand. She’s laughing and going faster and faster by the second.

It doesn’t take her long before she gets the hang of it but I still hang onto the stick as she sings along to Sports Car.

I’m not stupid, I know her little games and yes, they might be working, but I will not be giving in. This week is supposed to be relaxing, recuperating, and definitely NOT romantic.

Although, the track that Y/n and I are heading is definitely not romantic. More on the side of we both want each other in a hot sexy way.

Her hair whips all around us as she turns the corner, making her way higher up the hill. I’m now realizing that the hill is more of a mountain, the street getting smaller and the trees growing farther away.

I watch her speedometer as it inches higher and higher, her smile growing bigger as it goes, “Christ, are all Piastri’s this quick?”

She laughs out loud, “Next time you compliment me try not to include my brother in it too!”

I can’t help but let out a laugh, staring at her profile as the landscape zips by us. Her cheeks are pink from the sun and I bet if I put my hand to her neck i’d be able to feel her heart racing.

I shouldn’t be thinking this. I know I shouldn’t. But my eyes wander too easily down her smooth skin, her bikini top untied with the strings hanging over her thin top like it’s nothing.

I drag my eyes off her tits and back on the road, knowing I'm in too deep for someone I just met. We slow down as we reach the top, or at least, where she thinks is close enough.

She practically jumps out of the car, running over to a small patch of flat land and a bench that overlooks the water.

“Holy shit.” I walk slowly behind her, looking out at the view and watching her figure jump up and down. I grab my camera that I forgot is around my neck and snap a photo.

She looks back at the perfect moment, her face shadowed and her hair a mess around her, but it just… fits.

I sit on the bench as she sets her ass down on the back of it, her feet tapping the wood next to me.

“So. Your first full day in Melbourne! Thoughts?”

I smile, “I’ve been here before.”

She groans, “Not with me. Was I a good tour guide?”

I nod, “The best.” We didn’t do a whole lot but that’s the best part. Y/n is completely fun but totally chill at the same time.

My phone lights up, it’s a text from Oscar.

“Osc says that Lily is Ok and they’ve been chilling at the house for a while. He’s asking where we are.” I look up at the girl whose eyes are set on the pink and orange sky.

“Tell him we’re making out sloppy style in his car.”

The only change in her behavior is a tiny tug on her mouth, “Trouble…” I mumble and text him that we’re watching the sunset and will be back soon.

“I’m only voicing what we both want.” Jesus Christ, this girl… I’m rarely speechless, especially after a comment like that. But this girl is insanely captivating and I've never wanted to give in more.

I’m struck again at how beautiful she is, the sky reflecting off her as if she’s a part of the earth.

“Nervous, Norris?” Her head dips down to my level.

“We should get back.” I say, leaning my head back on the wood.

“Cop out.” she whispers before hopping off the bench and moving back to the drivers side.

“Woah! You are not driving back.”

“Try and stop me.”

⋆༺

you

I can’t drive stick. I wasn’t lying about that. Although now that I think about it, it would be a great way to get closer to a man.

Lando’s hand is over mine the whole way back. I insisted I could do it (or at least try!) but he guided my every move anyway. Hot. As. Fuck. I try to watch the road and not his huge veiny hands on mine, but mostly fail.

We’re split up after another quick dinner. I talk to Lily about her new addition to her shoe collection (a black boot semi-permanently on her foot as of today), while Lando, Oscar, and my Mom talk about the movie they’re watching.

I’m in my bed a while later, the lights still on in the hallway and Lando’s door hasn’t creaked shut yet so I know he’s not there.

My mom had thanked me immensely for showing Lando around and Oscar gave me a small thanks while looking at me funny. I don’t think he trusts me with his friend, especially with my past and a certain neighbor.

And sure, I want him to trust me! But I want Lando more.

I’m so zoned out that I don’t notice the man in my doorway, knocking on my open door with a tired smile on his face.

Lando has one hand in his pocket, looking sunkissed and content. “Hey.” I sit up, crossing my feet under me.

“Hi.” He smiles as if he’s about to blush, “I just wanted to say… Thanks for today. It was really fun.”

“I didn’t scare you too bad in the car?” I ask as his head meets my door, his neck straining against it.

“You weren’t too bad. Definitely got my adrenaline pumping.”

“Just say I'm an amazingly fast driver and move on.” I shrug, leaning back on my hands and puffing my chest out proudly.

He watches me- watches my body. I don’t have a bra on, something obvious in the cool space of our air conditioned house. I’m wearing a new set, light yellow with lacy little shorts. He likes it and I can tell.

He groans, running a hand down his face and shutting his eyes tight. “Your brother is gonna hate me by the end of this trip.”

I quirk a brow, playing the innocence card as I push a rogue strand of hair out of my face, “Why’s that?”

He looks at me again, his tongue running over his teeth as he challenges me. I want him, that’s the truth. But i’m not that easy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, trouble.” he pushes off the door, turning around and not looking back.

“Dream about me. But don’t be too loud tonight, yeah?” I tease, “Thin walls. I learned that the hard way.” I emphasize ‘hard’ never missing an opportunity to tell a joke.

He throws up one hand, the other still on his face as he walks out of my room and turns to go to his. I smile to myself, standing up and shutting the door he was too busy to remember.

[spaceyaemonds]

god i love this premise, it’s so hilarious that Jack would wind up with a young baby mama. It’d be fun to think of this as pre-canon. So she can kinda fit in the whole first season, like a super young mom coming in to treat a burn or something with a little kid, she’s being seen by a resident whose like so unaware and then boom, Jack walks in and the gossip/stares start. I think Jack can’t really ignore what it looks like but would be annoyed by the stares but ultimately wouldn’t care. And she would just be like *shrugs* “he’s super hot”

Also I am eagerly waiting on the hilarious interaction of Jack telling Robby and Dana. “What’s worse than knocking up your one night stand?” “Um, she’s 23.” “Jesus Christ”

Or maybe when they go out they keep calling Jack grandpa. Or just the heavy looks when they see this very young milf smile around Jack. Just the heavy stares from Robby and Dana as they watch this young family grow lol.

I also think they could have this really cute but kinda dysfunctional family dynamic. Yes they have a healthy coparenting relationship. Dad is teaching the kid survival skills and taking him on camping excursions where they test said survival skills. Yes Mom is chill as hell, and spills tea about the crazy office dynamics while she crafts with her kid. And lowkey loves being a hot mom. Like yes mom and dad sometimes smash because they have needs and it’s just less mess and complication when they have this somewhat dysfunctional FWB situation, that has potential to blossom into something bigger.

Anyways I love this mini series it’s serious feeding me, that man is so fine with the salt and pepper hair. I can’t wait to read more.

hi friend!!! i am so so glad you have been enjoying this mini series!!!! i have loved sharing it with everyone here!! omg same, i am so obsessed with him he makes me SICKKK!

ahh!! i have a lot to say on this so answering under the cut!!

it is very funny to imagine jack getting off of shift on the day and hours into the day reader shows up in the ed with their (fat, because i love fat babies) baby, maybe two years old. baby slipped and bumped their head, and she doesn’t want to bother jack so she takes baby alone. she somehow misses robby and dana, ends up with whitaker, of all people. maybe perlah or princess notice baby abbot’s name on the board, immediately tell dana, who makes a quick call to jack. whitaker goes to check over the baby, and jack immediately jerks the door open, “get the hell away from my kid.” and whitaker just looks between reader, the baby, and jack, on the verge of throwing up. santos and mel are right outside when they hear everything and immediately are all 😮👀

dana and robby’s reactions are as expected. dana is majorly side eyeing, and robby is just like “jesus christ! twenty-three?!?!” and jack doesn’t even really try to defend himself. standing there like a puppy getting scolded lol.

i like to think that reader very often gets hit on, guys closer in age to her walking up to her when she’s with jack and baby abbot at the park, asking if her dad can keep an eye on the baby and maybe they can grab dinner. it always makes her laugh, and infuriates jack, has him mumbling all kinds of stuff like “sure, dad can watch baby.” because he understands that she’s a beautiful girl, but he can’t deny the jealousy he feels when people hit on her in front of him.

jack loves nothing more than spending time with his baby. more often than not, after a hard shift, he finds his way to her house, just asking to take a peek at baby but ends up sleeping on the floor next to the crib. and more often than not, he spends his nights off there, ending up in readers bed. he isn’t interested in seeing anyone else, and she can’t imagine dating when there’s so much tension and longing between her and jack.

i think it takes some time, but they do eventually end up together. they’ve lowkey just been together, though, just not official. jack never felt the need to try to put a label on it because he’s worried about “forcing” her into something she doesn’t want. he knows how he feels, and though is never 100% on how exactly she feels, he knows there’s something there. i also don’t think they ever really officially date. i like to imagine jack maybe just slips a ring on her finger one night, and they get married not long after!

[softtdaisy]

venus / Aaron Hotchner

summary. you're begging your bodyguard to tell your code name, little do you know the meaning behind it

words count. 1 956

what to expect. sweet and flirty, brief angsty moment

a/n. @pastelpinkflowerlife i could never thank you enough for putting the idea in my head, i'm so happy to write more of reader and bodyguard!hotch and i hope you will all follow me in this fantasy 🤍

bodyguard masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

“Gorgeous?”

You heard Hotch’s amused sigh in your back. At least you made him laugh, and that meant a lot considering he wasn’t doing it very often. 

“Why would it be that?” he asked.

You turned around, putting your sunglasses on top of your head, to look at your bodyguard. Just like he did a minute ago, Hotch was still standing right behind you, his eyes hidden by his own aviator sunglasses. But you could swear he was looking straight in front of him. Which was sad, because there wasn’t much to look at.

You frowned and said, “Because I am gorgeous,” in a very obvious tone.

You couldn’t see his eyes going down on you, but you noticed the very subtle way his head tilted while doing so. He was a man, after all.

When you were looking for a new apartment to hide from your stalker, you had different requirements. If you had to spend more time there, at least you wanted to enjoy it. So as well as the privacy, the security system, or the natural light inside, you asked for a pool. 

And you got it. A rooftop pool barely used by your neighbors since most of them weren’t there during the day.

So there you were, lying on a deck chair, enjoying the sun in peace with your bodyguard watching over you. 

You loved the peace and the silence that came with being alone there. You could have easily spent the whole afternoon without speaking, just reading a book and swimming now and then. 

But there was something even more enjoyable in annoying the so-stoic Aaron Hotchner.

“No, it’s not your code name,” he replied. This time, he watched as you turned your head again, your ponytail flying in the air. The thought of grabbing it left as soon as it came to his mind.

It wasn’t easy for him to stay focused when you looked this good in your bikini.

You grabbed your book again, like you did after every refuted proposition you did. The thought came to you while reading this new romance everyone was talking about. The love interest had given the girl some cute Italian nickname that he only knew about.

That was when you realized it wasn’t fair that you didn’t know what your code name was. You were sure Hotch gave you one; it was the procedure. You were dying to find it.

You tilted your head back but not enough to see him. “The singer?”

“Too obvious,” he said with the very same tone.

You tried everything you could think of: something related to your appearance, from your hair to your height or your eye color, a song from yours, or even the city you were born in. But Hotch kept disproving them.

You put your book down again and got up. “The most amazing girl in the world?” you asked, standing in front of him. Even with your hands on your waist and squinting, you didn’t look that threatening. From outside, the situation must look funny with you in your bikini and Hotch in his all-black outfit—a t-shirt and shorts to bear with the weather.

You were quite obsessed with the way this color was good on him. Or how his crossed arms on his chest seemed so much bigger.

His enemies should be afraid of him.

Your body was very much attracted to him.

As for Hotch, he was surprised how you didn’t seem to get tired of this little game. “You realized this isn’t supposed to be that long?” 

You looked down on him before reaching his eyes again, with a little smirk. “Is that what women tell you when they get on their knees?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes. 

This time, Hotch couldn’t contain the smile that appeared on his lips. Of course he should have expected that from you. He wasn’t showing any type of reaction, just like he was taught to.

But the thought of you getting on your knee in front of him right now was somehow very tempting. Nobody around but the excitement that anybody could show up at any moment. Your eyes looking at him, your mouth on him, and his hand in your hair. Yes. Hotch could really experience that. 

This thought would probably stay with him the whole day.

After winking at him, you took the time to walk to the pool. He watched every single one of your movements. How your hips were moving in a silent rhythm only you could hear. The way your legs slowly disappeared in the water. How your arms reached for your hair to tie it higher. How the rest of the sunscreen on your body made your skin even more glowy. And then you dived, like a siren in the water. Maybe that could have been your code name, now that he thought about it.

The rest of the afternoon didn’t go as smoothly. You kept proposing other code names that he all said no to. You kept flirting with Hotch, and you will never know if the red on his cheek was from your comments or the sun—or both. 

Until you had to go back to your apartment because you had another meeting about your stalker. You hated those. Every week, you had to sit next to Hotch, listening to him and his team evaluate the situation. But there was nothing more to say when that asshole wasn’t sending a new threat, but you all knew he would strike at any moment.

These meetings were always some kind of blurry for you. You didn’t listen to most of it, your brain going somewhere else. You would rather focus on something else, pretending to follow the discussion when you were only physically present—not mentally. Most of the time you thought about some songs, sometimes even writing them. And you knew Hotch could tell you were the discreet type, but he never said anything.

Sometimes he was the one you focused on during these meetings. Like today, mesmerized by the subtle tan the sun left on his thighs and arms, the way the hair on his arms seemed to fade with his skin more. By the little redness on his nose that gave him some freckles. Or by his dark hair, messy on his head, that gave you crazier thoughts.

No. You didn’t follow most of the meeting, but you could sing another song about your bodyguard.

Yet, once it was over, you needed to find some comfort. Especially since you found yourself alone in the living room after Hotch left to his own room—still crazy to you that this man was sleeping at the same place as you. 

So you ended up making yourself a bowl of ice cream with your favorite flavors. It has always been some kind of guilty pleasure of yours, doing it on tour when you felt homesick and at home when you felt toursick. And more these days after learning your life was threatened.

You didn’t get to hesitate before making one for Hotch too, with his own favorite flavors.

You had a discussion about this not long after he started working for you. One night when you didn’t flirt with him but were anxious, you ate ice cream on your balcony, and he joined you. Hotch being Hotch, he didn’t reassure you much with words, but his presence was safe enough to comfort you. 

“It might sound so childish,” you explained, with a spoonful of ice cream. “But it’s comforting to eat something you know you like and can’t disappoint you. And ice cream does that to me.” 

You didn’t expect him to understand. But he did. And he told you about what he loved too.

This explained why you ended up knocking on his door with a fresh bowl in hand. When you opened the door, he was sitting on the desk that had been installed for him. You didn’t hear him shower, but you noticed his wet hair and the little drop falling on his neck. You found it funny how he only put on his glasses when he was alone in this room. 

Maybe some part of him thought he looked less threatening with them.

You actually found him just as hot.

“I thought you might need one too,” you offered, putting the bowl on the desk next to his computer.

Hotch’s eyes went down your body, again, from your naked legs to your comfy dress so light it would be easy for him to put a hand underneath. “Thank you,” he replied with a hoarse voice, trying to find composure next to you. 

Sometimes you wished you could sit there and stay with him, chatting about everything and anything. But Aaron Hotchner wasn’t your real friend. You couldn’t pretend he was. Even if you loved teasing him and wished your flirting would give you what you wanted from him.

So instead you simply smiled at him and went to the door just as fast as you came in. 

“Venus.”

You stopped midway. Unsure to have heard right. 

But when you turned around to look at Hotch, his eyes were on you. Still on you. But this time, he was expecting an answer. 

When he noticed the confusion on your face, he added, “Your code name is Venus.”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped your mouth. “The planet?” you asked, leaning against the door. You didn’t know much about astronomy apart from what you learned from school. You tried to search through your memory and your knowledge but couldn’t point out why you would be Venus. Maybe it was their thing in his agency. 

“The goddess” of love and beauty, he didn’t add.

Hotch had been the one to find the name. And the truth was, you didn’t technically need one since he was with you almost all the time—the very few hours spent away were when he had no other choice and someone else was replacing him. He was doing most of the meetings at your place. Sure, it was better for you to have a code name in case of.

His team made fun of him for being incapable of finding you a name. And it was during an event he had to keep an eye on you that he found it. Venus.

You were undeniably one of the most gorgeous women he had ever met in his life—that, he could admit. And Hotch had been working with many, many people in his life. But you. You. It was above beauty; it was your whole charisma. You were charming everyone in each room you came into, and he had a hard time resisting you. Your face was painted in black ink under his eyelid, seeing you in all his dreams. And he knew he wasn’t the only one.

As for the love, Hotch couldn’t deny that you had been nothing but affectionate with him. Sure, sometimes he couldn’t point out if you were nice only to flirt and get him in your bed or if you were being honest. Or both, maybe. 

He had given up on love a long time ago when he started this job. And never in all these years had he ever regretted it or thought about falling in someone else's arms again for something other than pure lust. 

But you. Aaron already knew that a part of him would miss you the day this mission would end. Your beauty, your smile, your touch, your love for him even if he was just the bodyguard protecting you.

So Venus, you were. 

The goddess of beauty and love. 

And desire. He sure had a lot of desire for you too.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)

[pyrodolls]

Heyy, can we get some more of yandere!werewolf x reader? I love your work<33

YANDERE WEREWOLF X READER HCS

WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, reader could be either afab or amab, not fully smut but very nsfw, dom reader, reader is a royal jerk and doesn’t gaf about the hot ass big ass werewolf man that is in love with them, average yandere shenanigans such as stalking and murder and perversion, possessive and slight worshipper yandere, delusional and pathetic yandere, i do not condone irl yanderes.

A/N: i have been WAITING for someone to request this lawwwd i need to be held back or else i will POUNCE on this pathetic beefy werewolf man and breed him. and hes a werewolf so yk hes BIG big and he's got that libidoooo ughhhhh do NOT put me in a room with him he isnt gonna be able to walk once im done with him 🙂‍↕️ (im asexual lol)

first part of hcs here!

THE YANDERE WEREWOLF that is still in love with you despite your tolerance towards him. deep down, he's aware that you will never have the same admiration for him that he does for you. but he pretends to be unaware of your disinterest; he chooses to live in blissful ignorance. delusion has brought him more comfort than you have, anyway.

THE YANDERE WEREWOLF that wakes up every morning and rushes to get dressed so he can see you as soon as he can. he doesn't bother worrying about the puddle on the ground that formed from his leaking ceiling, nor does he bat an eye at the bugs that have been eating away at his furniture. why should he spend precious time fussing over his house? he doesn't spend much time there anyway — he is busy with you!

he sprints to your palace and attempts to offer himself to you, in hopes that you would express a want, or need for him. in his head, he always fantasizes about being yours. he doesn't care about ruining his big, tough-guy image. if it's you he's ruining it for, it's worth it.

usually, he acts as your protector. your guard dog. you never even asked for one; he volunteered and insisted that he would be right for the job. he's almost twice your height, incredibly built, and has sharp teeth and claws to rip apart any opponent that comes your way. his dedication to the job is respectable, as he never misses a day and is by your side from dawn to dusk. he wishes he could watch over you at night too, but he hasn't gotten your permission yet, so he fights the urge to stay with you.

THE YANDERE WEREWOLF that follows your orders as if his life depends on it. if there is anyone you wanted eliminated, he will track them down by their scent and bring their heart to you as proof of his hard work. he will lay the heart down by your feet, kneeling and looking up at you with big, hopeful eyes. he desperately wants you to reward him. perhaps give him a simple "good job," or pat him on the head?

or maybe you could do what he always dreams of you doing to him. every night, as upset as he is to leave you after the sun sets, he's excited to be alone in his house — because he gets the chance to fantasize about you.

as guilty as he feels for sullying your royal image with his vulgar imagination, he can't help but feel an excessive amount of ecstasy run through him at the thought of you possibly rewarding him by making love. he recalls your scent, still engulfing his lungs hours after he left your castle. he often wonders if you taste the same way that you smell. he has a perfect vision of how he could please you. you could be sitting on your throne, as his knees give out under him and he gets to work on you. you don't need to do anything, just let him take care of you and you may guide him if you'd like. perhaps you could tug on his hair to let him know if he should go slower or faster. either way is fine with him. as long as he can hear that you are pleased, he's pleased.

if you wish to assist in his pleasure, he would be very flustered, maybe even hesitant to let you. shouldn't he be the one doing all the work? but if you insist, he isn't complaining. the second he feels your mouth around him, he crumbles. even though you can hardly take him, with how big he is. and he's very loud. even slamming a hand over his mouth won't cover up a thing. he's whimpering and begging, moaning things such as: "i'm yours, oh fuck, i'll always be yours," and "i love you so much, pleasepleaseplease keep going, i-i'll be so good, so good for you i promise."

the entire village could hear you two, and in his opinion, they should hear you so they would stop flirting with you. can't they see that only he can belong to you? you have complete control over him. you have him wrapped around your finger. and he wouldn't have it any other way.

nobody else can ever see this vulnerable side of him. he will never get down on his knees for anyone that isn't you. his entire life revolves around you, and only you.

...if only his midnight fantasies would come true someday.

THE YANDERE WEREWOLF that has spent his whole life being the ruthless, tough guy of the village. short-tempered and reckless, he often got into fights due to his sharp tongue and intimidating presence. everyone around him either found him disgusting, terrifying, or crude. but you didn't. you weren't scared of him. you hardly even cared about him-- but someday you will. every day until the end of time, he will continue to do everything in his power to gain your favor. don't underestimate his patience. reject him time and time again, he will simply come back, even more desperate than before.

[arandomao3user]

Batfam incorrect quotes because I can:

—

Dick, sitting in the middle of a hallway:

Tim, braiding his hair:

Bruce: . . . Why?

Dick: He needs practice.

Bruce: For what???

Tim: Hair braiding.

Bruce: ??? Why?

Dick: So he can braid hair, duh.

Tim: So I can braid hair, duh.

Bruce:

—

Tiny Jaybin Jason, climbing onto a table: I'm taller than you >:D

Dick: No, you're not!

Jason: Am too!

Dick: You're just standing on something! You're not actually taller!

Jason: No, I'm taller than you.

Dick: BRUCE!!!

Jason: I'M TALLER THAN YOU ALL!!! >:D

—

All the batkids standing in a bathroom:

Damian: And this is how you PROPERLY put toilet paper on the toilet paper holder.

Damian, putting toilet paper on the holder:

Dick: Why?

Damian: . . . Because I said so!

Tim: I agree with him, it's the most convenient.

Jason: ??? You're all idots.

Cass: It doesn't matter.

Dick: I wouldn't say it doesn't matter, just that way is dumb.

Damian: HOW DARE YOU!?

Tim: No wonder you take so long in the bathroom, you don't know how to manage time! Having it facing you is—

Jason: This is so stupid!

Bruce, stopping outside the door: . . . Why are all my children in a bathroom together???

Tim: YOU'RE ELDEST IS A DISAPPOINTMENT ON THE FAMILY NAME!

Damian: I for once agree.

Dick: I WISH I WAS AN ONLY CHILD!

Jason: I wish I boosted the Drake's tires instead.

Tim: WHAT!?

Bruce: . . .

Bruce, walking away as violence ensues: Nope.

—

Stephanie, under her breath while patrolling: This was never the way I planned it, not my intention,

Cass, joining in on comms: I got so brave, drink in hand, lost my digression,

Jason, shooting someone in the kneecap: It's not what I'm used to.

Duke humming and muttering from comms: Just wanna try you on,

Dick, flicking Tim in the head, singing: I'm curi-ous for you!

Tim: ??? Caught my attention—

All of them: I kissed a girl and I liked it! The taste of her cherry Chapstick! I kissed a girl just to try it! I hope my boyfriend don't mind it!

Damian: Father..?

Bruce, sighing heavily: Just let them get it out their systems...

—

Tim: I love you.

Bernard: I loved you first.

Dick, driving: You two just got caught trespassing on private property and are going to jail, can you two not?

Tim: Buzz kill.

Dick: TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE!

Bernard, snorting:

Tim: RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON!

Dick's partner in the passenger seat: . . .

—

Damian, storming in: Kane!

Kate and Cass: Yes?

Damian: The homosexual one.

Kate and Cass: Yes???

Damian: . . .

—

Bernard, staring into their oven: How much sugar did you put in those, Tim..?

Tim: It said one and a half cup, but didn't specify which cup :/

Bernard: . . .

Tim, holding up a large coffee mug: So I used this one.

Bernard: Timboo?

Tim: Yeah?

Bernard: Have you heard of a measuring cup?

Tim: ???

—

Duke: Okay, Tim, it's pride month. Y'know what that means?

Tim: Post about queer history to help educate people, donate to organizations that help trans and queer kids, and attend a couple pride parades as Robin?

Duke: You gotta stick it to the man. Your oppressors.

Tim: . . . I'm not oppressed, Duke. I'm a rich white male CEO.

Duke: Yeah, but you're French, and that means nobody likes you 'cause you can't win a world war and start a revolution every other century. Didn't even invent French fries.

Tim: ???

Duke: Anyways, next time ya see B, stick it to him.

Tim: Bruce is supportive though—

Duke: You're not gettin' the point. Just look at Dick!

Dick, flipping Bruce off while yelling from afar:

Bruce, yelling back:

Damian, yelling in between them while waving his swords around:

Duke: A natural.

Tim: He does that every day of the year and isn't even out to anyone.

Duke: He's ahead of the game, man.

Tim:

—

[dreamsatsunrise]

dandelion eyes

remus lupin x reader ⊹ strangers to lovers / fluff ⊹ 2.2k

The man stood in the doorway like he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed inside, one hand gripping the worn wooden frame, the other clutching a bundle of fabric to his chest. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the front window caught in his tawny hair, illuminating strands of silver and gold, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe.

He was tall, lean, dressed in a tweed jacket that had clearly seen better decades. His eyes - golden, warm, wrinkled - held an apology before he even spoke.

“Hullo,” he said, “I’m afraid I’ve done something terrible to my favourite jumper.”

You set aside your work and wiped your hands on your apron, the familiar scent of lavender starch and cedar filling your nose as you moved toward the counter. "Let’s see the damage, then."

He unfolded the sweater with careful hands, as though it were something precious, and your heart gave an unexpected twinge at the sight. It was clearly well-loved - the kind of knit that had been worn through countless winters, its cables slightly stretched from years of use.

You took the jumper from him, turning it over in your hands. Right along the left sleeve was a rip the size of a sickle. "Hand-knit?"

His smile was small but genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "My mother made it for me when I started at Hogwarts. It’s survived at least three encounters with the Whomping Willow, but apparently a rusty fence in Hogsmeade was its match."

You raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a story.”

“Fell into a fence. Or - well, the fence fell on me, technically,” he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It involves a poorly timed Apparition, a very angry Kneazle, and my complete lack of spatial awareness.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Well, the good news is, this is an easy fix. The bad news is, I’m backlogged until next Tuesday.”

His face fell just enough to make your chest tighten. “Ah. Right. Of course.”

You found yourself speaking again before you could stop yourself. "Unless you don’t mind waiting while I finish this hem?" You nodded toward the lace-trimmed robe on your table. "I could patch this up for you now if you’ve got time to spare."

The way his entire demeanour brightened made something warm boom in your chest. "I’ve got all the time in the world."

He settled onto the worn oak stool by your counter while you worked, his long legs folding awkwardly in the small space. You tried to focus on your stitching - tiny, even threads that would make the repair nearly invisible - but you were acutely aware of his presence. The way he watched your hands with quiet fascination, the occasional hum of approval when you did something particularly clever with the thread.

Your shop had never felt so small.

The space was cluttered but cozy, every inch filled with the evidence of your craft. Bolts of fabric leaned against the walls, rich velvets in jewel tones, crisp linens waiting to be transformed, the occasional shimmering swath of enchanted silk that shifted colours in the light. Spools of thread filled repurposed jam jars on the shelves, organised in a gradient that pleased you more than it probably should.

"This place is really nice," he said after a while.

You glanced up, surprised. "It’s just a shop."

He shook his head, his gaze tracing the quilt that hung on your back wall. your first completed project at nine years old, its seams uneven but its heart undeniable. "No. It’s a home."

Your needle stilled. No one had ever put it that way before.

"How long have you been sewing?" he asked, mercifully changing the subject when he saw your expression.

You resumed your work, the familiar rhythm of the needle steadying you. "Since I could hold a needle. My gran taught me. Said every witch should know how to mend her own robes, especially if she insisted on climbing every tree in the county."

He chuckled. “A rebel.”

“A menace, according to her.” You looked at him. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not getting into fights with fences?”

“Oh, a bit of this and that.” He shifted, and you caught a glimpse of scars along his knuckles. Old, faded. His hands were elegant, you noticed, despite them - the hands of someone who spent more time with books than bludgers. “Mostly teaching, these days. Defence Against the Dark Arts. At Hogwarts."

Your needle slipped, and you realised with a start, that this man - with his frayed cuffs and gentle voice - was Professor Lupin.

“Well,” you said, recovering, “at least now I know why you’re so calm about getting attacked by inanimate objects.”

He laughed, bright and surprised, and you decided right then that you wanted to hear that sound as often as possible.

When you finally handed back his mended jumper, the tear now invisible, the cables restored to their original glory, his fingers brushed against yours.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “It’s perfect.”

You smiled. “Anytime.”

The second time he appeared in your shop, it was raining - the kind of relentless Scottish downpour that seeped into your bones. He stood on the threshold, water dripping from his hair, clutching a cloak that looked like it had been through a war.

You didn’t even wait for him to speak. "Let me guess. Another fence?"

He grinned, shaking water from his sleeves like a dog. "Pixies, actually. First-year prank gone horribly right."

You took the cloak from him, your nose wrinkling at the distinct smell of burnt fabric. "They set your cloak on fire?"

"Only a little." He held up thumb and forefinger, indicating a tiny space between them. "Mostly they just charmed it to attack me."

You held up the garment, revealing singe marks along the hem and a torn lining that flapped like a wounded bird. "This is a twelve-stitch repair at least," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

He leaned against your counter, close enough that you could smell the rain on his skin. "How long will it take?"

You looked over your shoulder at your overflowing workbasket, then back at his hopeful expression. "I could have it done by Monday.."

His face fell.

"Or," you continued, unable to resist, "if you’ve got another free period to waste, I could do it now."

And so he sat, again, on that rickety stool, while you stitched and pinned and pressed. He asked about your shop, about how you’d started it, about the quilt hanging on the back wall (your first project, aged nine, full of crooked seams and love).

"You don’t have to keep me company, you know," you said as you threaded your needle. "I’m sure you’ve got papers to grade or first-years to terrify."

He smiled, pulling a book from his coat pocket. "I’ll be quiet as a church mouse."

You snorted. "Somehow I doubt that."

True to his word, though, he read quietly while you worked, the only sounds the rustle of pages and the occasional hiss of your steam iron. Every so often, you’d glance up to find him watching you over the top of his book, his gaze warm and curious.

"What?" you finally asked, when the weight of his attention became too much to ignore.

He marked his page with a finger. "You’re very good at that."

You looked down at your hands, at the nearly invisible stitches you’d been making without conscious thought. "It’s just practice. Meditative, I suppose. The rhythm of it." You demonstrated a quick backstitch. "In, out, pull. Repeat. No room for other thoughts."

He watched your hands, his expression unreadable. "I envy you that."

Before you could ask what he meant, the shop bell jingled again, and a harried-looking witch rushed in with a torn beaded bag. Your quiet moment shattered, but when you glanced back at Remus, he simply smiled and returned to his book, giving you space to work.

The third time he visited, you were starting to suspect foul play.

He entered like a man trying very hard not to seem eager - shoulders relaxed, hands tucked into pockets, but his eyes gave him away. They always did. Those amber-flecked eyes that caught the light like stained glass, fracturing it into something warmer, softer.

The shirt he presented was missing exactly one button. One. Singular. You rolled it between two fingers, giving him your most unimpressed look.

"Really?"

He had the decency to look sheepish. "It's my only one." He adjusted his sleeves, a nervous habit you were already beginning to recognise.

You took the fabric between your fingers. It still carried the scent of him, parchment and Earl Grey, the crisp bite of October air clinging to the fibres. The threads where the button had been were clean-cut, not frayed. Surgical.

"Mm." You ran your thumb along the collar. "Funny. This looks like it was removed with scissors."

A second passed. Then two. The clock on the wall ticked like a metronome keeping time with your pulse.

Then -

A laugh startled out of him, bright as the brass bell above your door. "Caught."

"You could’ve sewn this back on in two minutes."

"I could’ve," he agreed, leaning against your counter. "But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you." The admission hovered between you, fragile as a cobweb strung with dew.

A spool of emerald thread on your counter gave a sudden, suspicious wobble and rolled straight off the edge. You bent to retrieve it, using the moment to collect yourself.

When you straightened, you met his gaze squarely. "You don’t need an excuse."

The fourth time, twilight had already begun to spill across the shop floor like ink in water, pooling in the spaces between bolts of fabric and tracing the edges of your scissors with liquid silver. You were hunched over the ledger when the bell chimed, a single, clear note that trembled in the silence of the store.

Your head snapped up, the automatic refusal already forming on your lips, but the words dissolved like sugar in tea when you saw him.

Remus stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the dying sun so that his silhouette burned at the edges, a figure cut from paper and flame. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, as if bracing against a wind only he could feel.

The absence of any fabric in his grasp struck you first. No torn cloaks, no moth-eaten sweaters, not even a sock in need of darning. Just him - Remus Lupin, slightly rumpled, slightly breathless, standing in your shop with nothing to offer but himself.

"No repairs today?" you finally managed, setting the quill down with deliberate care. The ledger page fluttered as if sighing in relief.

He shook his head, and the motion sent a shaft of light skittering across his cheekbones. "No." A pause. "But I was hoping.." His voice dipped, roughened, then steadied. "I was hoping you might let me take you to dinner."

Your heart performed a peculiar manoeuvre beneath your ribs, something between a stumble and a somersault. "As in.." You traced the grain of the wooden counter with your fingertip, suddenly fascinated by its whorls and knots. "A date?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly, just enough to make the scar across his lip crinkle. "Yes. As in a date."

He stepped forward then, crossing the boundary where the floorboards changed from sun-warmed to shadow-cool, and with him came the faintest whisper of peppermint.

Because the moment demanded it, because the air between you had grown thick with possibility, because you wanted to watch the way his eyes would close when he smiled for real, you let the answer slip free on an exhale.

"I'd like that very much."

The transformation was instantaneous. The tension in his shoulders melted away, the careful neutrality of his expression giving way to something open and unbearably tender.

"Good," he murmured, and the word was a promise, a beginning. "Though I should warn you -"

You arched a brow.

His smile turned wry. "I'll probably still bring you clothes to fix."

The laugh that escaped you was as bright and clear as the evening sky outside your windows. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

A few days later, he kissed you between the bolts of velvet and the rack of thread, his hands careful but sure as they framed your face. His lips were softer than you’d imagined, his touch hesitant at first, then more confident when you sighed into him.

When you pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I should’ve done that weeks ago."

You grinned, plucking a loose thread from his sweater. "You were too busy destroying your wardrobe for attention."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through you where your hands rested against his chest. "Worth every rip and tear."

[ammarettu]

*Adopts*

CW: abusive relationship under the cut.

------‐

It's not the first time someone has ever ordered a code drink from his bar.

It's not even the first time someone has ordered it from him instead of from his much friendlier looking brother, Eskel.

It is the first time he's seen Jaskier look so terrified.

Geralt freezes a moment, his brain shutting down and restarting like an old car engine as he watches those brilliant, sapphire blue eyes glance back over the crowd.

"Neat?" Geralt asks, finally snapping out of it. His heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He wonders if Jaskier feels the same having to approach him like this.

Quietly, just barely audible over the chatter of the crowd and the beat of the music Jaskier put on after his set, he hears his Saturday night musician breathe, "With a twist," just in time for an arm to wrap around the musicians waist.

A man stands next to him, a little taller than Jaskier, a little more put-together, and a little less friendly-looking.

His hair and eyes are the exact same shade of coal black and Geralt thinks, just for a second before he remembers they don't exist, that this man must be some kind of demon.

"What are you doing, baby?" He asks, his voice saccharine and threatening all at once.

"Just asking the nice man for some water with lemon, dear. You know how my throat gets after singing."

The man chuckles, a dark, suggestive noise. "Oh, I do. But don't run off again, or I might lose you and you won't make it home... I have the keys, remember?"

The reminder makes Jaskier swallow, fear in every line of his body.

Someone else at the bar tries to get Geralt's attention -- he ignores them.

"Water with lemon," he repeats, "You got it. Hey, nice set tonight." He pulls his phone from his pocket and slides it under the edge of the bar where patrons can't see him texting.

Lucky for him, his other brother is working tonight, and he usually sticks nearby.

Jaskier rambles on about his song choices, his... company getting more and more visibly aggravated. Geralt is happy to listen. Usually, he only gets a few scarce moments to speak to the musician. Usually, the nights are too busy, or Jaskier is in a rush to leave. Geralt can't help but wonder how many times he's missed this. How many times he's let this sweet man be taken home by a monster.

He learns that Jaskier writes all his own music. He knew the man was gorgeous and talented but, really? It seems almost unfair.

He learns he's working hard on an album that's set to release in a little over six months.

His favourite food is extra cheese pizza, even though he's lactose intolerant - "I just can't help myself!" Jaskier laughs.

They're both in uniform, the deep, royal blue looking black in the dim light of the bar. He watches Aiden stop by the front door, temporarily flicking the on sign off and locking the front door while Lambert edges the room to secure the bathrooms. They've already locked the back, he knows from experience.

Lambert enters about half-way through a very long winded story about how Jaskier decided to learn the lute of all things, a story Geralt suspects is to buy them time, (He's glad, he's never been much of a talker) with his partner, Aiden, close behind.

The man next to Jaskier tenses, noticing them as well when he glances over his shoulder.

"Shit, we gotta go," he mutters, fingers curling around Jaskier's wrist. "Hey, we gotta use your back door-"

"Sorry," Geralt shakes his head, "employees only."

"You don't get it, the media's here. We don't want pictures of Jaskier in any tabloids."

"He's not famous," Geralt snorts. Not to be mean, it's just... He's not! Not yet, anyway.

"Fuck you," the man snarls, "I don't need your fucking permission," he yanks on Jaskier, who tries to pull away--

"Hey, asshole," Lambert greets, all smiles and relaxed posture. "Nice seeing you again. Moved on to beating some other poor fucker?"

"Fuck off, pig."

"So rude!" Aiden appears at his other side, "No matter. Hands behind your back."

"You can't arrest me!"

"Rience Fulton?"

"The fuck's it to you?"

"You've got a warrant. Let go of the twink and this will all go easy for you." Lambert says, inappropriate as ever.

"Rience, please," Jaskier begs.

"Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, shut--"

It all happens so fast Geralt barely sees it. One second, Rience is holding onto Jaskier, snarling, and the next, Jaskier has wrenched himself free (with a hard tug from Lambert as aid) and Aiden has a taser pressed into Rience's ribs.

It all goes fairly smoothly from there.

Rience is dragged from the building by a very gleeful Aiden. Lambert unlocks the door and turns back on the on sign, with a cheery, "Sorry for the disturbance, folks. Enjoy getting drunk as fuck."

And Geralt escorts Jaskier to the curb where another police car is waiting.

"You ready to give a statement, son?" Vesemir asks Jaskier, after introducing himself.

"Can I-- Do I have to do it now?"

"No," Vesemir offers him as soft a smile as he can manage, "You come by the station tomorrow, how's that?"

"Appreciated, sir, thank you."

"Get some rest, son."

Jaskier leans back against the brick side of the building when the commotion has cleared -- and collapses into tears.

"I thought--" he hiccups, "I thought I'd never get away. Oh gods," he sobs into his palms. Geralt sits on the pavement next to him.

"You got yourself out. Should be proud." And sits there with him as he cries.

"I can't thank you enough," Jaskier says when the wailing has calmed.

"I didn't do anything," Geralt insists.

"You saved me," Jaskier squeezes his hand briefly, "You're like, my knight in shining armour -- er... shining... polished... glassware. Bar things."

Geralt snorts, "Yeah, well... no one should ever be that afraid."

"No," Jaskier agrees, bumping their shoulders. "I feel pretty safe with you, though."

Geralt can't help but smile at that.

"Let me buy you dinner as a thank you?" Jaskier asks.

"Didn't do it for thanks."

"I know," Jaskier smiles. It looks almost out of place with his red-rimmed eyes and puffy, red cheeks. "Let me anyways?"

Fuck it, Geralt thinks. "I'd like that."

Modern au idea

Geralt's a bartender with a teeny tiny massive crush on the local musician Jaskier who plays at his bar every week. His favorite part of the night is when Jaskier comes up to the bar after his set and chats away to him, high off the adrenalin of performing. That is until one night when instead of his usually bubbly voice calling out before he's even seated, Jaskier sits nervously at the bar and orders an angel shot

[issybee06]

Omg. i love your acc so much. i ADORE ur writing for these thragg fics, they are my LIFEBLOOD through this invincible s4 drought. i need this sm, PLS MAKE MORE!!!! you’re an incredible writer and i hope you have a wonderful day!!! (ps. pls make romantic hcs :)! )

For the good of the empire!

Thragg x reader

Headcanons!

Legs locked around his slutty hips one of us is getting pregnant and my money is on him HAHAHAGAGAGAGSHSAGSEHTREESEHKTF

The hair?! The body?! I'm no better than a man because DAMNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

yes I know he's a bad person but In my world everyone is a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies lock me away and put me in the fun house I don't care

Thank you everyone for the support🫶🫶🫶

…………………………………………………………………………….

So, we can go two very different ways.

Human Reader orrrrrr Viltrumite Reader

I give you both!

Human reader!

Human reader meets Thragg through Mark, whether it be because she’s a hero or a close friend, he’s the reason they meet.

And you and Mark are great friends, like glued at the hip but then this 6’10 hottest man alive walks in and you’re like “Mark…is your long lost scary space uncle single?”

He’s like, “…my what…?”

You’re like, “never mind…I’ll ask him.”

Flirting with Thragg, if you’re the one making the first moves, is like nails on a chalkboard. He doesn’t get it, won’t understand you want to up in bones. He just kinda…stares? Questions everything until “oh! You wish to procreate, next time just say that.”

If he’s the one making the first moves, but you’re not interested, oh boy. He’s like a cat, I’m telling you, bringing presents he thinks you would like but really…no, not really.

Shows up at your house, carrying the head of someone or something that he killed, “I brought you…a gift.”

When you don’t like it, he’s angry. Confused. Offended.

He goes to Kregg, Lucan…Mark, asking what human women like. Mark tells his(while praying Thragg doesn’t want to kill him) what you like.

Now, he’s bringing you flowers(an evergreen tree), food you liked, jewelry. You were confused at first, but slowly you two warmed up to eachother.

You guys started dating after he got you a pet. That was it for you.

Whether it’s you or him pursuing first, the first time you guys are going at it is the same.

“D-do you have a condom?”

“…what the fuck is a condom?”

“…”

Your first time is veryyyyy soft, he thinks he might break you, until you’re telling him to fuck you like he means it then he’s smirking and you’re in for a treat.

You gotta, no matter what, explain a lot of earths culture to him.

What to say, how to react(not trying to kill someone for cutting in line at coffee), what to wear because wearing that Viltrumite suit in public was a no no.

You guys go out to eat a lot, you got your arms wrapped around his meaty bicep while he stands there stiffly. You drag him places, he follows reluctantly, but he enjoys you. He flys you to different countries, not because he wants to go, but because he loveessss seeing your eyes light up as he presents a new place to you.

He’s rough around the edges, but he’s good at making you blush and smile.

Superrrrrr bad at dating a first, but once he gets the idea he’s fantastic. It’s his new mission, to make you happy, and Thragg always completes his missions.

If you guys do end up continuing your relationship, he moves in with you. You veto moving to the moon with him as soon as he asked, having sex up there though…👀

He’s like a house husband, he can’t really get a job(he refused actually, saying he was above it) so he stays in your apartment just hanging out.

You guys never really get married…? He thinks you’ve been married since the first time you guys had sex, but like, you don’t? You aren’t his wife you’re his girlfriend, but to him you’re his mate. You’ve gotta explain that to him too.

If and when you guys have kids(he’s gonna be begging you know this) he now has something to do at home. He asked for it, now he’s gotta watch the baby. He never expected to have to raise the kids he begged for, he thought you would, but you are too head strong and said, “nope, you asked for this thing so now you’ve gotta watch it.”

He enjoys you, his little head strong human wife, more so than he actually thought he would. You make him smile, no ones ever been able to do that. You bring enjoyment to his life, nothing bores him. 5000+ years of living and you, his little human, is the highlight of it.

Viltrumite reader!

Very different relationship than human reader.

You two have known each other for a long time, gone on a few missions together and now he’s at that age where he needs a mate.

Now now, not just any mate. You.

You’re the best choice for him, he thinks, you’re strong and capable and you’d be his perfect little mate. He’s hard at the idea that you can easily kick his ass, knowing that all the children you might have would be extremely powerful.

He likes that. Oh, he likes that a lot…

He doesn’t play around it, just goes up to you and basically says, “hey, you and I are gonna be mated.”

And you’re like, “…okay?”

He might do the cat thing with you, giving you dead things as gifts, valuables from his conquests, and you respond with a smile.

You like him like that, covered in blood so fresh that he probably came straight from the battlefield to your house. Makes you feel wanted by him, you are wanted by him.

I’m thinking he’s not the Grand Regent yet, he’s young and popular and pretty and so very proud to have you as his pretty scary mate. Total power couple.

When he becomes Grand Regent, he’s offered move wives and he’s offended.

“I have a mate.”

“M-my lord, you should have a multitude of women at your dispos—“

“I have a mate.”

If he didn’t want you he wouldn’t have chosen you, he would have taken the other women, but he wants you.

He has forever to spend with you, he wanted that and now he has that.

Yes I love him, now look at young Thragg with his fluffy hair.

Ugh, creaming

[aayakashii]

(maybe) distance makes the heart grow fonder

Part 1, part 2

Author's note: as someone mentioned, it's been 8 months since the last update 💀 but I said I wasn't going to abandon it and I was serious! Either way, sorry for making everyone who likes this story wait so long. I'll try not to have the next chapter take too long but I have like 3 or 4 other fics I wanna write so they'll come first. The next chapter is already outlined though! Soon you'll have the other ghouls suffering from your absence >:3c aaanyway this one is a long one! I hope you like it and I hope it was worth the wait too. Let me know what you think!!!!!!

Warnings: angst, nightmares, blood, depictions of a panic attack

Ren was in a pickle.

He had called your name out a lot of times, but you were fast asleep on his bed and barely even stirred. He placed his hand in front of your nose more than once, in order to confirm you were breathing, each time getting more and more annoyed at the fact that, yes, you were breathing and still wouldn't budge.

That's what he gets for being nice once. Some annoying ass senior that slept like the dead hogging his bed.

Ren stood next to you, burning a hole into your forehead as he chewed anxiously on his thumb, wincing and hissing when he pulled a bit more than just dead skin. He sighed, looking at the red gash on the corner of his finger.

“This is so fucking annoying.” He muttered, rubbing his face with his hands.

What was the game plan here? Was he going to give up and just let you sleep on his bed all day? But what about him? He needed sleep as well.

Well, what was his other obvious option?

Ren grimaced at the thought of having to carry you on his arms, shuddering at the idea of being called out for sexual harassment after only trying to help. No, he did his good deed for the day already, and look where that got him.

As he pulled his hair in frustration, he heard the familiar sounds of things falling down all over the place downstairs. Great. That fucking weirdo was back. Awesome timing, in fact. He could deal with this issue then.

Ren turned on his heel, opening and closing the door to his bedroom quietly, in order to keep you from awakening, despite himself. Downstairs, Haru was sweeping an unknown pink powder while Towa watched with uncontained amusement. The pink dust sparkled and made strange, tingling sounds, like tiny little bells, as the broom’s bristles swooped them to a corner of the room. Haru mumbled to himself, eyebrows scrunched tight etching deep lines onto his forehead.

Ren lingered on the last step of the stairway, hesitant on asking Haru, of all people, for a favor. But desperate times call for desperate measures and Ren didn’t see any other way to (gently) remove you out of his room without getting in trouble for that - in his mind, the only options were being accused of sexual harassment or just straight up being scolded by you. And he didnt know which option sounded scarier.

“Hey.” he called out to the red-haired man quietly, scratching his cheek.

“Oh? Ren!” Haru looked up, face immediately brightening despite Ren’s permanent scowl. A hand flew to support his own lower back, which popped audibly as he turned around. “Think you can help me clean these things here? Towa bumped on the shelf and now we have this, uh. Little mess to clean up.”

Ren frowned in disgust and shook his head.

“Nah, actually… I’m the one needing some help right now to be honest.”

Haru’s face immediately fell.

“What’s wrong?” He stepped closer, eyeing Ren intently as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. “Did you get hurt somehow? Are you okay?”

“Ugh… Yeah, yeah, just come here in my room” he rolled his eyes, climbing up the stairs back towards his room without checking whether or not Haru would follow. After a few mumbles, the sound of a broom loudly falling down and some muttered curses, Ren heard footsteps quickly trailing right behind.

Ren put a finger in front of his lips, shushing Haru right before entering his room. A gust of cold air blew past them as he opened the door, goosebumps prickling their skin and Haru had to suppress a shiver. Right before he was about to scold Ren for racking up their electric bill with how long he kept the air conditioner on, his mouth shut immediately, teeth clacking audibly.

Right under the navy-colored duvet, you were fast asleep - chest rising and falling with every breath, almost peaceful-looking, if it weren't for the puffiness of your eyes and the redness of your nose.

“Oh…”

Ren sighed loudly.

“Yeah. Can you get them outta here? I wanna, you know. Have my bed back so I can sleep.”

Haru tilted his head.

“Can’t you carry them, though? You’re strong enough.”

“No way.” he shook his head vehemently. “What if they sue me for sexual harrassment?”

Haru scoffed in disbelief.

“They would never do that, and you know it. You’re their friend after all.”

“We’re not friends.” he mumbled.

Haru forcefully rubbed his nose that still had a bit of pink powder dust.

“Okay.” he said, sniffling, eyeing his hands that were now a bit pink as well. “I guess I can take them to Obscuary.”

Ren raised an eyebrow.

“Obscuary? Why don't you take them to their dorm?”

Haru tiptoed towards the bed, gently removing the duvet from your body, a guilty expression on his face as he noticed how you shivered under the cold air.

“They’re gonna spend a little time there.” He mumbled as he crouched and pulled you into his arms with ease. “Oh, that reminds me…” he turned to Ren, expression unusually severe. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone that they were here. If anyone asks you if you know where they are, lie.”

“What? Why?” Ren asked as Haru maneuvered his way out of his room.

“Ah, it’s a bit of a long story, and it’s best if they tell you themself, but they asked Towa and I to do that. You have to do the same. That’s a Captain’s order, in fact.”

Ren scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

“You can't tell that Sinostra friend of yours, no matter what.” Haru added, going down the stairs as Ren trailed behind.

“Ritsu? He’s not my friend.”

“Can’t tell those 1st years from Vagastrom either.” Haru scowled as he looked once again the pink dust that still covered a good chunk of the room. Towa was nowhere to be seen.

“None of those guys are my friends! I won't tell anyone, I got it, ugh.”

“Okay. good. While I'm out, you clean up the living room then.” Haru concluded as he opened the door to the dorm and stepped out.

“What? Wait, hold on! I didn’t say I would do that!” Ren replied, exasperation in his features as he immediately tried running towards the entrance as well.

“Counting on you! Be right back! Bahnti!”

As soon as Ren arrived at the door, Haru was already nowhere to be seen, his stigma immediately taking him far and away from Jabberwock, leaving the whole living room mess in Ren’s hands.

“Fuck!” he slapped the wall, wincing at the instant pain on his palm. “He’s so fucking annoying!”

Haru opened the door to Obscuary’s main entrance with ease, despite holding you in his arms, and sauntered towards the bar.

The bell chimed softly as he opened the heavy mahogany door and entered the dim lit recint and soft, jazzy music echoed through the place accompanied by the clinking of glasses.

“Sorry, the bar’s not open yet!” Rui announced cheerily, his back towards the door as he dried one of his many crystal cups. “I'm still organizing everything so please come in a few hours from now!”

Haru grunted, adjusting you in his arms before getting closer to the counter.

“Hey, Rui.” He said with a sigh, resting his hip against the sturdy wood.

“Oh! Harurin!” Rui took a quick glance over his shoulder before placing the cup down and turning around. “What’s u–” he paused with a gasp, eyes widening, as soon as he was faced with Haru's sheepish smile and your form, bundled in his arms.

“Uh…” Rui cleared his throat, eyes glued to the way you seemed to be holding on to Haru's vest for dear life. “What's going on?” he laughed anxiously as he rounded the counter to get closer.

“Aw, will you look at that. They look like that silly little princess from the fairytales.” Ed’s sultry voice resounded from a corner of the bar, his tall and languid form coming out of the shadows with a smirk on his face.

“Are they okay?” Rui asked, completely ignoring Ed's comment, although his grimace was fairly obvious.

“Well…” Haru shrugged, looking at you with a frown. “Physically, I guess they’re fine. They were going to come here to Obscuary and ask to stay a little while, but they passed out back in Jabberwock. Probably of exhaustion.”

“Exhaustion?”

The bar’s door slammed open and both men jumped, startled by the loud noise. You, however, remained trapped in a deep slumber, despite the ruckus caused by Lyca as he barreled through the bar with excitement.

“Is the honor student here?! I smell their-” Lyca’s expression fell as soon as he saw you bundled up in Haru’s arms, eyes still puffy, with a frown as you dreamed unpleasant dreams.

Lyca’s ears and tail popped out, an angry rumble reverberating in his chest while he approached Haru, slowly.

“Harurin…” he growled the nickname, an odd contrast to his demeanor. “What did you do?!”

“Lyca, calm down.” Rui stepped in front of Haru before the werewolf could come any closer.

Haru gulped, voice trembling as he backed away from Lyca’s very prominent canine features and tried to keep his fear of dogs at bay.

“Hey, I just brought them here as they were already planning to do, big guy. No need to get aggressive!”

“I’m not aggressive!”

“You sure do look aggressive...” Haru murmured.

“Lyca, don't worry that much. Harurin is a friend, remember? He wouldn't do anything to harm anyone, much less the honor student. Chill out.” Rui said with a warning glare.

“Ye-yeah! I would never hurt them! Please don't bite me!”

Lyca's ears and tail disappeared and he looked to the side, crossing his arms and sulking.

“I wasn't gonna bite” he pouted.

“What happened to them, though?” Rui pointed at you, trying to address the elephant the in the room once again. “They look absolutely wrecked.”

“I think… the pressure of everything and especially of all the other ghouls has finally got to them. You know how some of us can be.” he shrugged.

Rui sighed, a pitying look on his face as he clenched and unclenched his fists, keeping himself from reaching out and petting your tousled hair.

“They do look exhausted.”

Haru nodded.

“They cried a lot today.”

“They cried?!” Lyca’s eyes were wide, as if you crying was something unimaginable.

“Yeah and… They probably need to talk to you guys once they wake up, so keep watch, maybe.”

“Can't we wake them up then? So they tell us what's going on?” Lyca reached his hands towards you, but Rui shook his head.

“No Lyca, let them sleep. They probably need it. Harurin, can you take them to a room upstairs? It can be the one you use when you stay over.”

“No problem!”

“I’m gonna go with you.” Lyca grumbled, following Haru’s footsteps as he swiftly made way towards the mansion's second story.

“And you.” Rui turned on his heels to face Ed and pointed at him, accusative. “You just stay here and drink your wine while I fetch some stuff for them. Don't even think about messing with them while they're sleeping.”

Ed put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“You wound me, Rui. I wouldn't dare kick a poor dog that's already down.”

Rui made a disgusted sound and walked away, to the sound of Ed’s amused chuckle.

Through the thick fog that encompassed your whole being, you saw a dog.

It felt like a lifetime since you’ve last seen one. A real one. Darkwick clearly had a preference for unnaturally skilled cats (demons? You weren't sure at that point), so you never saw dogs – at least not ones with a normal snout and little beaded, bright eyes.

Maybe they weren't as dextrous? It didn't matter.

But still, you saw a dog. And it was wagging its long, fluffy tail and panting happily, as if it was overjoyed to see you, an old friend you were supposed to recognize.

You didn't see your blurred, foggy surroundings, you just saw the dog – its dark, greyish coat and bright yellow eyes, the size of a labrador. It trotted towards you, head bowed down as it showed you it meant no harm. As it got right beside your feet, it laid down and showed its belly, begging for pets.

You smiled. The dog was so happy to see you. You wonder when was the last time anyone was this happy to see you.

You crouched down in order to pet it, and it wiggled gleefully under your hands, one paw shaking as you scratched a particularly good spot. Despite yourself, you cooed, telling him how he was so cute, such a good boy, so adorable. And it loved your praise, tail wagging a mile an hour.

After a few peaceful minutes, however, it started whining. It flopped down onto its side and got up quickly, startling you out of your happy daze.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked, but it whimpered and curled into itself, ears flat against its head and tail tucked between its legs. It was looking over your shoulder.

Without a second thought, you twisted your torso to see what was scaring it.

All you registered is a tall, woman-like figure with limbs bent unnaturally, one huge eye surrounded by purple, blue, red and white flowers; and a mouth slit into a wide, bloody smile.

Your mind screamed for you to leave, to run, to hide. No, no, not again, not again, not again.

But you were glued in place, breath hitched inside your throat as you can't do much but take it all in all over again.

There was something different in the scenario, though.

Right in front of the woman, there was a red headed man. He turned around slowly, as if he could sense your gaze fixed upon him. His toxic green eyes lock onto your figure, disdain and anger threatening to melt your bone like acid. Copious amounts of blood soaked his face, neck and white shirt.

You finally noticed how red your surroundings looked, out of nowhere.

The dog was long gone. You were alone again.

Taiga slowly placed the barrel of his golden, glittering gun onto your forehead with a blank expression. You tried to open your mouth and yell in a desperate attempt to have him recognize you, but your whole body felt heavy like lead.

All you could feel was the cold metal of his gun touch your forehead.

The piercing pain came right after the loud gunshot.

You screamed and flailed wildly on the bed, accidentally pushing Lyca, who napped peacefully on your belly. His body flipped to the side and he fell down with a yelp, but you didn’t even register his presence. Your eyes were still sealed shut, as if the nightmare had an unyielding grasp on your conscience, dragging your body back into its torturous depths as you left claw marks on the way.

You screamed and screamed. This seems to be your thing now, apparently.

"What's wrong? Hey!” Lyca jumped up to his feet in a rush, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you with little restraint on his strength. You kept on moaning in what sounded like incredible pain, still unaware of him

“Hey! What's wrong?" he gave tiny slaps on your cheeks, hoping to bring you back to consciousness. When that didn’t work, he settled for holding your arms down in order to keep you from getting hurt, since your arms were dangerously close from knocking everything that surrounded you and the bed.

Lyca’s eyes were brimmed with tears and he looked terrified once Rui entered the room.

“They- they won’t wake up” he stuttered, voice wavering as he looked at Rui for answers “What do I do?”

Rui breathed deeply, eyes fluttering as he tried to think of a solution. You were clearly still stuck in your sleep, unable to escape whatever seemed to be haunting you in your mind.

But what could he even do? It’s not like he could come near you and try to talk you out of your stupor, when you flailed wildly, almost as if convulsing – he couldn’t risk having you accidentally touch him, no matter what.

In the blink of an eye, however, Ed appeared on your bedside, an amused smile on his face as he flicked your forehead, huffing out a laugh.

“Come back here, you silly human.” he murmured, voice laced with a mischief that was unsuitable for the situation.

With a gasp, you resurfaced - your eyes finally opened and your body relaxed under Lyca’s arms. Your eyelids fluttered and you heaved, coughing as you took in your surroundings and, especially, Lyca’s pained expression hovering over you.

“Ly…ca?” you rasped and he immediately sat back on his heels, rubbing unshed tears away from his eyes and snot from his nose.

“You scared me.” he sniffed, looking away as you massaged your temples, a throbbing headache making itself known in your skull.

“What happened? What did I do?” you frown.

“You didn’t do anything, doll.” Rui chimed in, sitting on the foot of the bed with a meek smile “You were just having a really bad nightmare and it made you thrash in your sleep. It was a bit scary to see, but it wasn’t your fault. Can’t control that type of thing.” he explained, while smoothing non-existent wrinkles on the duvet.

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I… This type of thing never happened before.” you tried sitting up, looking at Lyca apologetically.

“The blond gigolo already said it. It wasn’t your fault.” he huffed.

You remembered bits and pieces of the nightmare, but mostly, how it made you feel - all the helplessness, the pain and the terror that had slowly built up inside you ever since you arrived at Darkwick crashed upon you like a tidal wave, leaving you no space to breathe. It felt like being pushed over the precipice of death time and time again, and revived only to suffer the same pain once more - a Promethean torture that only allowed you to think what the hell could you have done to deserve that much hurt; which god could have possibly angered so badly to deserve their rage in such a way.

You sighed, still rubbing your temples.

“I'm sorry for scaring you either way… When- when did I arrive here?”

“Harurin brought you. You were fast asleep in his arms. He mentioned you said you'd apparently come here? Is that so?”

“Oh… Yeah… Yeah, it is.” gratitude washed over your body for a moment. Haru already did so much to help you. You promised yourself you'd find a way to express your thankfulness once things went back to normal – or as normal as they could be.

“What happened, doll?” Rui snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked into his eyes, an unusual seriousness in his expression. “He told us you kinda crashed out, but said you were planning something. What is it?”

You gulped, casting down your eyes and fiddling with the fabric of your blazer, mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the words to explain the mess that was your mind.

“I… I found a way to look at some of my old social media.” You muttered, finally.

Lyca scrunched his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion.

“What does this have to do with what's going on?”

“I didnt know I was gonna be so affected by my memories.” You shrugged. “I suddenly remembered how I had a life out there. Outside of Darkwick. I don't know… I don't how I even forgot about it. I had friends, family. People who cared about me, people I don't know if I'll ever see again.” You murmured, looking everywhere but the pity in Rui's eyes. You were so, so fucking tired of crying. Your limbs felt like they weighed a million tons.

“And it made me think.” You continued, after trying to clear your throat from the knot that seemed to be permanently there. “How badly people treat me here. You guys are the exception, obviously, and a few others but…” you shook your head “I don't know what I did to deserve being humiliated on a daily basis. I'm– I'm threatened, yelled at, insulted, hurt time and time again by people who barely act as if I'm human. I think some of them might see me as lesser than that.”

Rui opened his mouth to speak, but the words were flowing freely from your lips – sorrow finally seemed to have given away to anger and you needed to air out your grievances before they dragged you down again.

“And some of them see me as a school project. Means to an end, you know? Cure that stupid human and get this cool prize. I'm not a fucking project. I had my life. My dreams. They all act as if they're doing me a favor when all I wanted was to never have met them at all; never been through this at all.”

A beat passed, heavy in its silence.

“You regret meeting us?” Lyca's voice cut through the rage that covered your vision, and you paused.

He had his eyes downcast, a pout on his lips and a line between his eyebrows. He poked the bed, trying his best not to give in to the frown that tried to tug his lips down.

You hurt him. How great.

“No, Lyca. I'd never regret meeting you, nor many of the friends I made here.” You reached out to grab his hand, quieting his fidgeting as you squeezed it reassuringly. Lyca side eyed you with barely concealed upset. “It's true, I– I promise you. I swear. I love you guys and it's the only thing that has kept me alive so far.”

At the mention of the word “love”, Lyca's cheeks turned pink and he squirmed his hand out of your hold, embarrassed.

“You don't- don't need to exaggerate.” He murmured, scratching his cheek.

“It's true.” You smiled, before turning serious once again. “But I would be glad if I could never see some people ever again.”

“Okay, so… what is this plan Harurin mentioned then?” Rui chimed in, once again bringing back the focus.

You breathed deeply.

“I wanna give myself a break. I wanna spend some time away from them, from the people that have been hurting me. I asked Haru to bring me here because I wanted to ask if I could spend some time here in Obscuary, hidden from some of the ghouls.”

“Of course you can!” Lyca immediately jumped at your words, straightening his back. When he didn't get confirmation right away, he looked at Rui. “Right?”

“I mean… You can, but, uh. I'm not sure how it'd change anything…?”

“Change?” You tilted your head.

“Rui means: What is your goal with this?” Ed suddenly spoke. He had seated himself in a nearby armchair, quietly watching the exchange. You had basically forgotten he was there.

“What?”

“What do you plan on getting from this disappearing stunt? Apologies? Penitence? A sudden revelation from them that they love you and can't live without you?”

You scoffed.

“Have you been watching romcoms lately?”

Ed chuckled, amused.

“How do you know that? I found this website called Netflix and it's been a delight.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I could tell. No, I dont expect any of them to miss me or whatever.”

“Then…?”

“I'm just tired. I’m so tired, Rui. I wanna rest. I want some peace and quiet, without someone searching for me and dragging me to do whatever stupid task they think I gotta do. I wanna sleep in without the threat of being yelled at by some asshole that's barely older than me. I need a timeout.”

Rui pursed his lips and hummed in thought with a finger tapping his chin.

“But I bet some of them will look for you. You know how they are.”

“Just pretend you don't know anything. You haven't seen me at all. I hardly doubt anyone wants to walk through Obscuary’s forest anyway.”

“Ouch!” Rui laughed with a hand on his heart. “But well, yeah. You aren't wrong.”

“So… Can I stay? For a little while? I promise I'll help out to pay back for my stay.”

Rui was already nodding, but before he could open his mouth to agree, Ed interrupted, a lascivious smile on his lips:

“You know all your troubles would be solved if you just accepted what I offered to you back in that one mission, don't you my dear?”

A hazy, pink hued memory of Ed's whispers flashed behind your eyes: a hypnotizing hum vibrating in your bones, egging you to allow him to sink his teeth on your throat and exchange your deadly curse for his own. You shivered.

“No offense, but being tied to you for an eternity is a torture of its own. I don’t wanna exchange one torture for another.”

Ed's smile faltered for a moment, but you catched it regardless.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Rui asked, eyes wide and hypervigilant of whatever insanity Ed was referring to.

“Nothing. Your captain is just being unreasonable again.” you shook your head.

“So? Will you stay in Obscuary for real?” Lyca asked, ignoring the exchange entirely.

You looked at Rui for confirmation. He put his hands on his hips with a defeated sigh.

“Oh, honey. You know I have a weak spot for you, don't you?” he winked, back on his best host demeanor once again.

You breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.

“Thank you, Rui. Thank you so much. I promise I won't give you trouble and will help out here as much as I can.”

Lyca suddenly grabbed your hands and leaned forward, clearly on a quest to hog all of your attention.

“Now that you're staying, come here with me. I gotta show you my new drawings!” he immediately jumped out of the bed and pulled you by your hand, taking you outside the bedroom and towards his own room.

“Lyca, they barely woke up! Be careful! And reasonable! Geez!” Rui trailed behind you, exasperation clear in his voice.

You didn't miss how Ed stayed back, still in the armchair. And a weird glint in his gaze, firmly locked onto you, is the last thing you see as you leave the room.

Comments or reblogs with tags are appreciated! Please let me know what you think of this so far

[sunday-bug]

Would you maybe write something about the reader saying she never wants to get married and bucky is hurt about it but then she admits she only said it because Steve or Sam indicated he didn’t want to either and he explains he never wanted to before her?

ANON!! I’m obsessed!!! I got a lil flustered writing this lmao what’s wrong with me!!!!

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

You walk to the bar to order another drink for you and Bucky, “Two gin & tonics, please. Empress, if you have it.” The bartender gets to work on your order and you lean your back against the bar, assessing the crowd. Sam went all out for his birthday party this year, and he damn well deserved it. He’d rented a club downtown, and everyone was dancing, drinking, and having a blast. You’d even gotten Bucky to dance for a bit. The bartender sets your drinks on the bar, and you thank him before heading back into the crowd to Bucky.

“They had your favorite gin,” you say, handing a glass to him.

“Thanks, doll,” he says with a smile. “You remembered.”

You smile back and snake your arm around his waist, swaying to the music, feeling a slight buzz settling in. He kisses the top of your head and takes a drink.

Sam’s sister, Sarah, is dancing with Steve nearby and keeps eyeing you and Bucky. You wave at her and smile, inviting her over.

“Sarah!” You exclaim, “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?” You lean in to hug her.

“I’m great,” she says, returning your hug. Bucky breaks off to chat with Steve next to you, letting you have time to catch up with Sarah.

“How are the boys?” You ask her.

“Keeping me busy, on my toes!” She replies with a laugh. “You and Bucky look awfully smitten. You gonna let him put a ring on it?”

You laugh, “No, no, I’m not into the whole marriage deal, you know.” You wave it off.

Sarah nods, “It’s not for everyone. I understand. Well, I’m going to dance with my man. Let’s get lunch while I’m in town.”

You nod, hugging her again, before glancing to Bucky and seeing a strange expression on his face.

“You good?” You ask, intertwining your fingers with his, and pulling him toward you to dance as a slow song comes on.

He nods solemnly, pulling you close for the dance, and whispering into your hair, “I heard what you told Sarah.”

You pull back and look into his eyes, “What part?”

“Not wanting to get married.”

“Oh, yeah, I just… I know you’re- I know you don’t want to be married.” You look around, nervous to meet his stare.

Bucky brings his hand to your chin and makes you look at him, “What gave you that idea?”

You furrow your brow in confusion before answering, “I overhead Sam talking about it once. That you’d never get married…”

Bucky pulls you into him, holding you and swaying to the music, smoothing your hair before whispering into your ear, “I said that a long time ago. Before I knew you.”

“And now?” You ask, curious, “Have your thoughts on the matter shifted?”

He chuckles softly, “It’s all I can think about when I look at you lately,” he admits, brushing his knuckles across your cheek.

“Oh,” you squeak out, feeling your chest heat.

He leans down again, voice quiet against your neck, “So, maybe you’ll reconsider your stance on it?”

You nod softly, “Already done.”

“Good girl,” he says.

-the end-

[snips2112]

Well, I ended up writing a little something for myself for this prompt which has now spawned an entire fic... Please enjoy chapter 1, posted below! The rest of the fic will be up over the next week or so and can be found here on ao3.

-----

And Always, My Love

The first time Rook kissed Lucanis, it was unexpected. She’d put one hand on his cheek and leaned over, landing a sloppy kiss on his cheekbone, just below his eye. They were both drunk, as were Neve and Bellara. The four of them had been trading stories over a bottle of wine. One bottle turned into two, and two quickly progressed to three, and three… begot a kiss.

Lucanis hoped he wasn’t blushing. Bellara laughed and pointed, reiterating the obvious: Rook was very drunk, and Lucanis was very surprised. Neve glared daggers. Lucanis wasn’t entirely certain why. They’d flirted, sure, but nothing was spoken for at this point. Spite roared in his brain.

TELL. HER. SHE NEEDS. TO. KNOW.

Lucanis met Rook’s gaze, enraptured by her shining green eyes, and not for the first time. Some invisible force behind her gaze tugged at his breastbone, and he watched Rook’s eyes widen as he leaned in. Her lips parted, and she gasped softly, drawing his gaze downward. Mierda. He wanted to kiss her. Badly.

Lucanis’ eyes flicked back up to Rook’s and the intensity of her gaze struck him to stillness. Did she want to kiss him too? The way her gaze roved over him, searching and hungry, made him believe so.

Now. Tell her. NOW.

Lucanis opened his mouth, but in the same moment, the reason he could not tell her anything walked through the door.

“Drinking without me?” Davrin asked, his voice as smooth as silk and as deep as the ocean dared dwell. Rook shot up immediately, the spell between them shattering into a million pieces, and flittering off into nothingness like the end of a shooting star. It blazed hot, when you could see it, but it was intangible once the moment had passed.

She fluttered over to Davrin, her long curly hair bouncing with every step. Lucanis grimaced as his friend lifted Rook up, spinning her around before kissing her forehead once he’d placed her back on the ground. They were a good match. Lucanis pretended he was happy for them.

We could KILL him. Easy. POISON in soup.

No.

You COOK. You ASSASSINATE.

No!

What if there was. A CONTRACT.

“Oh, shut up…” Lucanis murmured with a sigh before rubbing his forehead.

“That’s rather rude,” Neve quipped. Lucanis raised his head, confused. Neve continued to glare daggers at him. “All Rook asked was if you wanted another drink.”

Lucanis flicked his gaze over to Rook. The concern in her eyes made her look suspiciously sober, but the way she wavered at Davrin’s side, prompting the other man to loop a steadying arm around her shoulders, betrayed her intoxication.

“My apologies, I wasn’t talking to you, Rook. Spite was…” Lucanis searched for the right words, not willing to allow his friends to be privy to Spite’s foolish suggestion. Finally, he settled on,  “…being rather loud.”

Rook grinned, an adorable, lopsided twist of her lips in her drunken state. “Well, maybe Spite needs another drink.”

YES.

“No,” Lucanis said firmly, and resisted another sigh. Resolutely ignoring Spite’s protests inside his head he continued, “On the contrary, I think Spite and I have had a bit too much to drink. I will take my leave.”

“Noooooo Lucaaaaanis,” Bellara whined drunkenly. “You can’t leave yet.”

Lucanis rose to his feet and took a second to let the world right itself before he stepped away from the chairs in the library. He called on all his discipline and dexterity to look less intoxicated than he felt and avoid tangling his legs on the table that sat between them, strewn with glasses and empty bottles of wine.

“I’m sorry, Bellara. I’ve had enough for one night.”

“Ooookay but just wait,” Bellara said cheerfully and shot up from her chair. She stumbled over to him, likely intending to give him a goodbye hug, but accidently launched herself into his side when she tripped on the low table he’d so painstakingly avoided. Lucanis caught her without too much trouble, but he staggered a bit, just barely managing to keep his feet under them both.

“Sorry, whoa-“ Bellara said, wobbling all over again the instant Lucanis righted her into a standing position. This time Davrin stepped forward, taking her other arm. She let out a peal of laughter and Rook’s infectious giggles joined Bellara’s, the humor of Bellara’s disequilibrium obviously enhanced by the alcohol bubbling through their veins. Rook’s laughter was a beautiful sound; Lucanis couldn’t help but stare. The way Rook’s whole face lit up with joy, her eyes scrunched into adorable crescents, cheeks round and rosy… Mierda. He couldn’t keep thinking these things.

“I should be going,” Lucanis said, leaving Bellara in Davrin’s capable hands. He bid his goodbyes and made a quick exit from the library, managing to stay upright without too much effort. He just had to make it to his quarters. The walk wasn’t long. This he could do. Spending time with Rook… especially Rook and Davrin… that was something he was going to need to work on.

TELL HER.

He couldn’t. It was better this way. Rook deserved better.

But. You CARE. About her.

That didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve Rook. He’d only entangle her in his mess.

WHAT. MESS.

Lucanis scoffed. The Crows. The Ossuary. The mess that was a demon inside his head.

But I CARE too. About Rook.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucanis murmured to himself as much as to Spite. “She made her choice. And it was the right one. We… we are the wrong choice.”

LUCANIS IS. STUPID.

Lucanis rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath, staggering up the steps to the elevated courtyard. When he reached the top step, Lucanis sighed in relief, only to lose his footing instantly, his boot slipping on a particularly smooth stone.

Luckily, a pair of lithe but strong hands wrapped around his arm, saving him from a rather unfortunate fall onto the stone walkway.

“Careful darling.”

Lucanis sighed. “Neve.”

Neve looped her arm around his and helped him towards the dining hall at the far end of the courtyard, where his quarters lay. “We all had a bit too much to drink. Just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lucanis told her, shaking his head and then regretting it, as the world seemed to spin a little to the left.

“No, but I wanted to,” Neve replied, her voice light and hopeful. Lucanis frowned. This was a mess too. He’d started something flirty with Neve and he’d intended it to remain casual. It seemed she may want more than that.

“You deserve better, you know? She doesn’t get to demand your affections, not after she’s chosen someone else,” Neve said, turning up her nose as if the notion itself was distasteful to her. Lucanis and Spite both bristled, defending Rook immediately.

“She demands nothing.” He couldn’t tame the sharpness from his tongue, and it shamed him. While he did not deserve Rook, he had enough scraps of self-worth left to know how pathetic he must sound, defending her to Neve.

“Well then, how do you explain tonight?”

“I have… lingering feelings. That isn’t Rook’s fault.”

“Still,” Neve said, pausing outside of the dining hall before letting go of his arm. “Perhaps it’s time to find a new focus for your attentions.”

Lucanis’ frown deepened. He should have known this was coming. He’d never intended for anything serious between them, and he regretted if he’d given her the wrong idea. He tried to put her off.

“Look, Neve-“

“I’m not asking for you to fall in love with me, darling.” Neve interrupted. Slipping her fingers beneath his chin she caressed his jaw, drawing his eyes to hers. “But I think you could use a distraction.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, his apprehension fading as Neve presented him with a more familiar, easier option.

“A distraction?” He leaned in, coming nose to nose with Neve. Her brown eyes were half lidded as she stared at his lips. Her breath ghosted across his skin. It prickled in anticipation, and he waited, wondering what her next move would be.

After what seemed like an eternity, Neve spoke. “If you want to kiss me, you’d better hurry up.”

Without thinking, Lucanis crashed his lips against hers. Their kisses were rough and hungry, both desperate for a taste of the other. Lucanis wrapped one arm around her waist and the other he threaded into her hair, pulling at the soft brown strands, angling her mouth where he wished. She kissed him back fiercely, nipping his bottom lip and scrapping her fingernails pleasantly down the side of his neck. Pulling on her hair, he tipped her head back so he could kiss her neck. Rook’s skin was sof-

The hapless thought jarred him back to reality, and Lucanis pulled away abruptly.

LUCANIS. IS. STUPID.

Yes. Yes, he was.

“I-“ Neve started, looking rather flustered.

“Not tonight,” Lucanis cut her off, silencing any further questions with a shake of his head, and a thin lie. “I’m too drunk.”

Neve narrowed her eyes, obviously not entirely satisfied with his feeble excuse for such a sudden change in behavior. Her scrutiny was intense, but Lucanis was a Crow, and Caterina’s grandson. Learning to lie and resist interrogation had been both part of his training, and essential to escaping his grandmother’s wrath growing up. Silence came easily for him, drunk or not.

“Alright,” Neve said eventually, though the quirk of her lips told him she still retained her suspicions. “Rest well.”

Lucanis bid her farewell and staggered through the door of the dining hall, making his way to the pantry and promptly collapsing face down onto his bed.

What was he going to do with himself?

WHY. Are WE WRONG?

Lucanis sighed.

“We just are, Spite. We just are,” he mumbled into his pillow drunkenly, unwilling to delve any further into it. His mind was a mess, and not in the usual way. Lucanis squeezed his eyes shut tight. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to sleep. A brief reprieve from all this thinking… would be welcome.

As he drifted off, Lucanis murmured, “Don’t tell her while I’m sleeping. Please.”

He felt Spite slip towards unconsciousness with him for a change.

I WON’T BETRAY LUCANIS.

Lucanis was grateful. And then he slept.

Romance Prompt Questions:

✨ First Times ✨

To spark some positive fandom enthusiasm, I thought I'd try creating a ~fun little ask prompt~, so here goes!

Send an ask with "The first time..." and fill in the rest with whatever you like - then receive snippets, headcanons, or a mix of both!

This can be serious ("the first time character A confided something in character B" / "the first time character B thought about kissing character A" / "the first time they dealt with loss together") or entirely silly ("the first time character A heard character B snoring" / "the first time character A's uniform was horribly out of place in front of character B" / "the first time they laughed so hard they cried together").

I encourage all writers and non-writers alike to participate however they wish! This isn't about creating mesmerizing prose, but about sharing in each others' love of the Characters™.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Prince Charming

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After an almost disaster at the club, you’re saved by your prince charming whom you want to thank with a drink. Minutes later, you realize that Prince Charming is just that, a fairytale. Weeks later, you run into him again and it’s not exactly the reunion you’re hoping for.

Square Filled: doctor is in the house for @mfbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

After waiting in the long line to get into the club, you’re finally granted access. The bouncer has to make sure there aren’t too many people per fire department codes, but you’re glad you’re even in at all. You bought yourself a new shirt that you’d never wear otherwise, and you really want to show it off. It’s a small sequin shirt that is covered with fake diamonds and shiny jewels, and it only covers your breasts like Ariel’s shell bra. The back has a few clear straps to make it look backless that clasp in the front. The only thing holding this shirt together is the small rusted clasp in the front.

You bought it at a thrift store that was part of a costume, so the clasp has definitely seen better days. Your only goal is to go home with someone since it’s been a while since you’ve felt the warmth of another body against yours.

“Okay, let me get us some drinks!” you yell over the music.

You push through the sea of bodies to the bar counter where you put in your drink requests. On the other side of the bar, by where the pool tables are, is Spencer, Derek, Matt, and Luke. Derek had a hard enough time trying to get Spencer out of the house, but he’s glad he’s here. He doesn’t get to hang out with his friends a lot since getting out of prison. He wanted to shut himself away from everyone, so being around people is good for him.

“Thanks for coming out, man,” Derek says and sips his beer.

“What choice did I have? You practically dragged me out by my hair.”

“Soak up the solitude, my friend, because in three weeks, you’re not gonna know peace,” Derek laughs.

Derek and Savannah broke up because her job took her halfway across the country, and Derek’s entire life is in Virginia. He loves being with the BAU and didn’t want to leave it. It wasn’t an easy decision to break up, but it was easier knowing that they were drifting apart. She was always at work and doing stuff for her coworkers like events raised by the hospital.

So, to prevent wallowing in self-pity and heartbreak, Derek asked Spencer to move in with him. Rent is climbing up a very steep hole and soon, being an FBI agent won’t be enough to cover rent. Luke and Matt start telling a story about when they went to talk to a victim’s family, but Spencer zones out of the conversation. He’s heard it once and that’s all he needs to remember every detail.

He looks around the bar at the different groups, just people-watching when he notices something shiny on the dancefloor. The sea of people part so he has an unobstructed view of you in that shiny sequin top. You’re dancing with your friends without a care in the world of who is watching. Spencer’s lips part slightly as he takes in every detail of your face and body.

He’s only dreamed of finding someone as beautiful as you. In prison, he’d create a woman in his head just to get him through the night, but none of that compares to you. Hair that flips as you dance, long legs leading out of a very short skirt, sparkly skin thanks to body glitter, and pouty red lips that he’d really like to kiss.

He looks at his friends but they aren’t paying any attention to you. They’re too engrossed in their stories to notice the beauty on the dancefloor. He looks back but frowns when he doesn’t see you. Your friends have dragged you from your spot on the dancefloor back to the table.

“We think we found someone for you,” Beatrice giggles.

“Oh, no, should I be worried?”

“No, no, he’s cute. I am seventy percent sure that he’s single.”

“Seventy? I don’t like those odds.”

“Well, I saw him with a woman earlier but she left and I haven’t seen her since. He doesn't have a ring on.”

“Hmm, why don’t we try looking for someone else I know who for sure is single. In the meantime, let’s go dance!”

You drag Bea and Aurora to the dancefloor, drinks forgotten. You’ll just get new ones when you want something else. The music flows through your body as you sway your hips to the beat, allowing your problems to slide off you. Your body twists too far to the right, and you feel the pop rather than hear it. You gasp and put a hand to the front of your shirt because the clasp had broken. If you remove your hand, your breasts will pop free.

“Shit! My shirt just broke!” you yell over the music. “I have to go home. I don’t have anything else to wear!”

“Here, take my shirt.”

Based on the starstruck looks on your friends’ faces, you know whoever is behind you is stupid handsome. You turn and are taken aback by how hot this man is. Curly brown hair, honey-brown eyes, a lean body, and super tall. Taller than any of your ex-boyfriends.

“Were you watching me?”

The stranger chuckles. “No, I was passing by when I heard you. Here, take my shirt.”

“No, I can’t.”

The words die on your tongue when he starts to unbutton the front of it. He’s wearing a black undershirt, and you find yourself disappointed you won’t be able to see what he’s hiding under those clothes.

“It’s okay, I have an undershirt on.”

He slides off his shirt and wraps it around your shoulders. Using his body like a shield, he blocks you from unwanted gazes and your friends keep eyes off you from behind. With one hand holding your shirt together, you awkwardly put the stranger’s shirt on. Once both arms are through, he starts to button it up so that you can keep a hand on your sequin top.

The shirt is bigger than you, so it hangs loosely, but it smells too good for a shirt. People nudge Spencer as they dance, causing him to inch closer to you. The act of him buttoning up your shirt is weirdly intimate, and you’re sure your friends have shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Let me buy you a drink,” you offer.

“You don’t have to.”

“I insist or else I’ll lose sleep over it.” Spencer doesn’t respond but lets you drag him to the bar counter. Luckily, a couple had just gotten up so you two take those seats before someone else does. “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer,” he smiles.

“Thanks for offering your shirt to me. I would have to have gone home to change. You’re my hero.”

“I don’t know about that,” he blushes. “I’m just glad you’re able to stay.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”

“Lucky you, then,” you grin.

“As weird as it may sound, I’ll have red wine. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real fast so you can just order for us.”

“Sure,” you nod. Spencer gets up and turns away, but you stop him. “Spencer? It’s not weird at all.”

As soon as Spencer leaves, you put in an order for two glasses of red wine. Five minutes turn to ten that turn to twenty. This man isn’t coming back. Maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he was only trying to be nice and made an excuse to get away the first chance you got. You slap some bills onto the counter before leaving to find your friends.

“Where’s McHottie?” Bea grins.

“Flaked on me. I think I scared him. We should just go.”

“What a bitch,” Aurora slurs.

“I’m calling an Uber now,” you say and pull out your phone.

As soon as Spencer got done using the bathroom, he hurried back to the bar counter. The line was extra long because some guy was fucking in the stall. A worker had to barge in and throw him out before he was able to use the restroom. He would have left to tell you but the line was getting longer and he really needed to go.

However, when he sees the empty bar counter, he frowns. The glasses of wine are still on the counter with a crisp twenty, and Spencer can’t help but chuckle. He knew you were too good to be true. Maybe you were creeped out by him when he offered you his shirt and was relieved when he had to go to the bathroom. He shakes his head and heads back to his friends.

“Where have you been?” Matt asks.

“Where’s your shirt?” Derek asks.

“Trash. I spilled something on it,” Spencer lies.

While you’re beautiful, you might just be a conniving little thief, so he tries his best to get you out of his head. After all, he’s moving in with his best friend. The day comes sooner than Spencer realizes. Luckily, Emily had given him and Derek the week off to get the new house ready. Derek wanted out of the house he and Savannah shared, so they needed new everything.

In the weeks that followed the club night, you had a hard time getting Spencer out of your head. It’s like even though he was a flake, he was a gorgeous one. You’re lounging on your bed scrolling through social media when you get a call from your brother.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, are you busy right now?”

“Maybe. Depends on how much you wanna beg me to help you,” you grin.

“You’re evil. Look, the guys that were supposed to help me move bailed. Can you come help for a couple of hours?” You stay silent as you think. “I’ll give you money for Starbucks.”

“I’m on my way.”

He laughs and hangs up before you can change your mind. You search your closet for something clean to wear. Laundry day is tomorrow, and you weren't planning on going anywhere today. The only thing that’s remotely clean is the shirt Spencer let you wear. As soon as you got home that night, you took it off and it’s been on the floor ever since.

With a shrug, you put that on and head out. Your brother lives fifteen minutes from you, but you make it in ten minutes due to traffic being light. The moving van is posted outside his new house with two cars--your brother’s and his new roommate’s.

“Knock knock. It’s me,” you call out when you walk in.

“In here!” You walk into the kitchen to see your brother, Derek, next to his roommate who has his back to you. Wait… Wait a damn minute… “Y/N! Meet my roommate, Spencer.”

Spencer turns, confirming your suspicions. It’s Spencer from the bar. Wait, he’s your brother’s roommate? You don’t know much about his coworkers since you tend to lead very separate lives. He gets the bad guys while you’re a publishing editor. Spencer knows Derek has sisters, but he hasn’t met all of them. Derek often talks about you by name, but he never thought that the girl from the club would be her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say the first thing that comes to mind.

Spencer nods as if he’s thinking. “Okay. Nice to meet you, too.”

“Okay, I’m going to get more boxes. I’ll give the tour when we’re done.”

“Okay,” you smile. As soon as Derek is gone, you glare at Spencer. He looks just as good as he did in the club, if not better. It pisses you off. “So…”

“Are we not going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you ditched me.”

“You bailed on me!” you gasp.

“I did no such thing. I went to the bathroom like I said I was going to. The line was long because some guy was having sex in the stalls and locked the bathroom. I would have stepped out of line to tell you this but I really had to pee. When I came back, you and your friends were gone.”

“What?” Embarrassment heats your cheeks. God, how can you be so stupid? “Oh, I thought you… Okay. I thought you ditched me and I got pissed.”

“Sorry I gave you that impression.” Spencer looks down and finally notices the shirt you’re wearing. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

You look down and chuckle nervously. “Look at that. I am.” You look back into his eyes. “Do you want it back? I can give it back.”

Your eyes are wide and innocent, and Spencer has a hard time resisting going over to you and ripping it off you.

“Keep it,” he says after a moment. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

Spencer pushes away from the kitchen counter and walks toward you. You back up for every step he takes toward you until your legs hit the couch.

“We can’t do this,” you mumble.

“Why not?”

“Look, my brother and I have a rule where I don’t date his friends and he doesn’t date mine. We can’t do this.”

Spencer leans down and grips the back of the couch so you’re trapped.

“We can’t or we shouldn’t?” he whispers.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Okay.” He backs up a few feet. “I wanted to give you a goodnight kiss that night. I’m kind of pissed I didn’t get to.”

“Oh, okay.”

“What if I gave it to you now?” You snap your gaze to him. “One kiss and then we can pretend like that night never happened.”

You don’t have to say anything. He can see the desire in your eyes. He stalks back over to you, grabs your jaw, and kisses you. You sit on the back of the couch and wrap your legs around his waist, falling deeper into the kiss.

“Oh, come on,” Derek groans.

You and Spencer jump away from each other and see Derek standing by the front door with a box in hand.

“Sorry, Derek,” you mutter.

“No, wait a second,” Spencer jumps in. “Just because you think this is going to blow up in our faces doesn’t mean it will.” He looks at Derek. “I’m not sorry, Morgan. I’m not going to stop wanting to kiss her.”

Derek shakes his head and sets the box down. “You know what? You’re both adults. I just don’t need to see your naked ass walking through here. I’m getting more boxes. It’d be nice if you two helped.”

The second Derek is out of view, you pull Spencer back in for another kiss with the promise of something delicious later on.

x

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[2222bad]

YUMMY

[michael surprises you with his new haircut] | 900+ words

WARNINGS: fem!reader , the man is a TEASE! & this look should’ve been illegal

[1995]

he wanted the haircut to be a surprise. he didn’t tell you anything. no clues, no input from you, nothing. the only thing he let slip was the day and time karen was supposed to arrive in santa barbra. he wouldn’t even let you near the guest house when she got there, clippers and suitcase in toe. he made you swear to stay put until he came to get you, which you reluctantly sealed with a contractually binding kiss of trust. still, you speared at the thought of squeezing some hint out of karen. maybe faking that you’d like a touch up and just so happened to be free the same day, what time would you be done with michael? could i just come wait for him? but, eventually, you thought better than to pry against his wishes and simply tried to ignore the antsy feeling that grew larger in you with each passing minute. fine, you relented, the man can have secrets. just this once!

up in your bedroom, you gather a few contents from your purse in your palm, receipts and loose change from the day before namely, before being suddenly swept into darkness by michael’s sneaking hands.

“guess who,” he sings, an obvious grin laced on his mouth, pulled from ear to ear.

you hadn’t even noticed how tight your hand was on your blouse as you recovered from the sudden thrill. you release your vice grip, breaking into an excited smile. the delicious sweetness of after-spray, evidence of a fresh cut, wafted easefully into your nose. “hmmm…my handsome husband i’ve waited oh so patiently for, i hope?”

“could be…”

“well, may i please see him already? my ride will be here soon.”

“yes,” he grants with a delighted hum, “but when i let go, you have to keep your eyes closed.”

“fine.” you tilt your head back with a playful groan. you weren’t confident in how much longer you could hold up this dam of anticipation.

you fix your body to stand completely still as his hands leave your face. your lip flies between your teeth as your excitement brews quicker.

“okay,” michael says carefully, “turn around—don’t peek!”

“i’m not, baby!” you insist with a frustrated shake of your arms. you turn around, eyes closed to him, squinting with exaggeration. “see?”

you hear him chuckle in front of you and you twinkle your fingers at your sides, a wishful expression. “okay. you can look now.”

gently your eyes flutter open to the blurry figure stood in front of you, quickly adjusting to the view of his body. comfy in his white shirt and jeans, clean shaven, face aglow and beautiful as always. then his hair; subtle curls tipped over from his head and paused their reach at his brow, framing his statuesque features like an open curtain. he’d cut and shaved all along the back and over the sides, leaving layers of black curls frayed prettily around his head. he looked…older. confident, matured, but princely. your knees betray you and buckle under the sight of him. your face shifts from excitement to pure, primal thirst, pupils blown incredibly. like you want to scale him on all fours. like you want to eat him. you want to eat his whole day. you make a note to give karen a personal tip.

“do you like it?” he bites into his bashful smile, his hair dangling to the floor. how could he not know how torturously beautiful he was?

you’re speechless, your mouth agape. your whole body feels like putty, your heart at primal speed. before long, the dam breaks.

“why do you do this to me?” you whine helplessly, swiping your eager palms out at him and dragging them down his chest.

“do what?” he laughs, catching you in his arms.

“you knew i had my meeting today!” you pout up at him, fighting, with great power, the urge to just trap him under you right then and there and gnaw at him like a toothless cub.

he lets out another laugh, which, to you, felt full of pity, wrapping your body in his embrace. “well,” he toys with a devious smile, “now you know how it feels!”

“know how what feels?” you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt with a possessive grip on his waist earning a ticklish smile to match his scrunching nose.

“how it feels when…you know…like in the morning when you walk out of the shower smelling so good with all your lotions on and i have to go work.”

you stare at him, bemused. “i don’t see how that’s remotely fair.”

he smirks at that, leaning down to kiss you. a drooping strand brushes against your eyelash and forehead, nearly binding you within your lover’s trance. “i’ll make it up to you later…”

“oh, you’re gonna do much more than that,” you bid, returning his kiss with mock weakness at the same time your pager buzzes in your bag. your car was at the gate. “and you—“ he plants another unreturned kiss on your lips, “—better not let anybody see you—“ he kisses your cheek, the crux of your jaw, “—you stay right here in this room until i get back—“ you whine impatiently as he lands another one on your neck, “—bye. i love you.”

he lets you slip out of his grip, but not before he presses a firm, promising kiss to your lips that leaves you, almost, utterly dazed. you swipe your stuff into your arms, turning to look back at him, your hand curling up as if to strangle him.

“i mean it, michael! you’re not leaving this room!”

“i look that good, huh?” he teases, arms folded in triumph as he watches you tromp away. you only scoff, the sound of your heels moving like a rolling thunder through the neverland palace.

-

for you, lovely one :) thank you!!! @cinnamoncunt

[southernbelllle]

And He Was Haunted

Richard Reiben x Reader

Prompt: The war comes back to Reiben in many different ways, and it's up to you to help him cope.

Word Count: 2.6k

AN: I promise I will write for Platoon again soon lol. I just have to figure out how to finally tune my interpretation of Barnes into someone I can write something "sweet" about lol.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The train ride back to Brooklyn was long and bumpy. Arduous, Richard Reiben sat in front of a lady dressed from head to toe in an emerald, green dress and fur coat. The jewels that hung from her neck were gaudy and chunky. They didn’t shine, they just sat.

“Soldier boy,” she spoke, voice coated in sugar. “Am I to assume you’re heading home?”

Reiben simply looked at her completely devoid of emotion. He spoke not a word, simply looking at the older lady. He could see right through such an individual. He could even before the hellish torment that was his time overseas.

He continued to ignore her, unwilling to engage with the absurdity of the common civilian. He had seen enough; he no longer had the energy to devote himself to the pointless. He doubted if he ever did.

“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?” She asked with a sly smile. “Must’ve had the breath taken from you on your travels.”

“Bitch, you ain’t got a fucking clue.” He thought to himself. His body rocked with every chug of the train. He averted his tired eyes from the woman to the window that he had sat himself beside.

“The strong and silent type I see…” she lowered her eyes at him like a cougar on the prowl. He could sense her growing need to pull him into her grasp. He wanted no part in it.

“Strong yeah but far from quiet.” He stated bluntly. An annoyed smile that faked congeniality spread across his lips. Like a dog showing its teeth, but not posing a threat. Not yet at least.

“Oh…is there a way I could test that theory?” The woman flirted.

“Fuck yeah there is.” He was growing more and more annoyed as the time on the train dwindled. The combined screeching of the tracks against the wheels combined with the lady’s redundant question asking made him wonder if making it out alive was really worth.

But then he remembered you.

And suddenly, he found the will.

A thin brunette boy who worked on the train’s service crew was walking down the aisle when suddenly, he felt an arm stiff at his side.

“Hey kid.” Reiben said. “What’s a poor bastard gotta do to get a scotch around here.”

“I’m sorry sir, no alcohol after 8 O’clock.’ The boy answered cooly. His voice was quiet like a kitten’s whisper. Barely audible over the chatter of the train.

“Mother fucker….” Reiben muttered under his breath. He brought a hand to wipe the sweat that hung from his brow.

“What- What can I get?”  He asked with annoyed desperation. “I need something to get me through this God forsaken train ride.”

“At this hour we are offering water, tea, coffee, or juice.” The boy counted the options on his fingers. A damply wet towel hung from his forearm. Reiben noticed the tiny ghost of a mustache and the thin pencil like straightness of his eyebrows. He reminded him of someone, someone he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Uh,” He glanced down toward his toes, eyebrows knit firmly together. His fingers running through his hair in frustration. “Can I get a- a coffee?”

“Of course.” The man nodded. “It’ll be right out.”

Reiben’s head fell into his hands. He craved a quiet moment. He hadn’t experienced a true moment of peace since he left. He thought about you again. God, he couldn’t wait to get back home to you. You were the life’s blood that ran through his veins. Your gorgeously delicate face lived on the backs of his eyelids. In just about, he looked down to his watch, 10 short minutes this train ride would be over, and he’d be on his way home to you, and he could put all of this shit behind him.

“You know, if your looking for a way to get through this train ride-“the woman spoke up again. Her voice dripping in the same seduction. However, Reiben had lost his patience.

“Look, look look listen lady,” Reiben lifted his head up from his hands. Anger burning through his tone. “I don’t want you. Ok? I just fucking don’t.” He flashed a sarcastic smile as he threw his hands in the air. “I got a girl at home. A beautiful girl. Who’s been writing me letter after letter about how badly she misses me.” He scolded. “I know that you won’t understand this, considering your sorry son of a bitch husband is waiting for you at home while you’re out stalking men on trains, but I’m one lucky bastard to even have a girl waiting on me. Ok? So, if it’s fine with you. I’d like to end this miserable train ride in silence.”

The woman was gazing scornfully at the soldier. Her ego clearly bruised as she accepted her defeat. “Well.” She spat. “I guess I know when I’m not wanted.” She picked up the fox fur that had been sat around kitten heeled feet. Reiben watched as the dead fox’s head whipped around her shoulders as she got up. Finally, one fucking free moment.

His back bounced against the seat as he let out an exhausted breath. He looked around the train at the other passengers. A man with a big black top hat and well pressed suit, a woman with blonde hair in a Dutch braid, two small children dressed in faux military costumes celebrating the end of the war. None of these assholes would ever be dealt the blow that he had been. If they did, they’d know that there wasn’t shit to celebrate. No, not a damn thing.

Good men died wearing the same uniform they did, except only that time, the blood and gore was real instead of imaginary.

As he began to look at the children closer, he noticed the stark height difference between the two boys at play. The tall boy had caramel skin and buzzed hair. He played with a wooden sniper rifle that he’d point at random passengers on the train. The second boy was little. He flew a small toy blimp around with his tiny palm. He had big brown eyes like a baby deer. He’d seen that look before, when his wounded friend was looking up at him from the dirt. He averted his gaze.

Man, he was angry. He was an angry man before, when he was just another guy from Brooklyn spitting at the pavement and shaking his fist at the sky. Now, he was all of that plus running himself ragged from replaying the gut turning memories he’d collected from his time in France.

His ticket home was the worst thing to happen to him. He really did believe that out of the eight men he had been sent to search the French countryside with, he was the least deserving of coming home. He was pissy and rebellious throughout the whole mission. Quite literally even “giving up” at one point. Yet, he was the one chosen to come home. He knew that it should’ve been a soldier with talent and grit like Jackson, or a medic that had tended to the wounded quickly and devoutly, like Wade.

But no, it was him. One of two survivors. He’d made a point to fuck off as far away from Upham as possible because of the trauma that would flood his brain and make his face turn cold. He couldn’t look at him without seeing them.

The train whistled as it halted to a stop. The screeching of the tracks and abrupt ceasing of movement yanked him out of his thoughts.

He puled his gear out from the top compartment and slung it over his large frame. He started down the thin isle with steps heavier than boulders.

The two children dressed in the costume version of his current uniform ran past him. He stopped and stared as they ran toward the door.

One of the children, turned to look at Reiben, and with a toothy grin, saluted him. The boy then tapped the other boy’s shoulder and pointed at the towering man. Upon seeing him, the second boy shot the same nod and salute, then hurried off of the train.

Reiben was never a crier. He wore the rock-solid mask of a macho man everywhere he went before the war. But now, after the mission he’d had the misfortune of being thrust under, he cried at the drop of a hat.

Neither was he a Godly man before, but he felt God had temporarily shot his brothers down from Heaven for one last memory, seeing them one more time in a way that didn’t involve them groveling for mercy. Something to help him sleep at night. Jackson told him once that God would send him signs of his grandaddy randomly. He’d talked about how the two of them would go dove hunting every weekend, and after his granddaddy died, he’d have a dove gently rap outside his window. Peeking in to check in on how Jackson was doing. Reiben thought about how the two of them were probably flying across the Eastern Tennessee sky together now. It was bittersweet.

But he thanked God anyway.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Reiben stood still in the middle of the isle, lost in his own mind.

“Sir,” a man tapped him on the shoulder. Reiben was splashed by the surprise that washed over his face. It was the bus boy.

“We put your coffee in a cup to go. Your father suggested to us that you may want it for the walk home.” He said, handing the cup to Reiben.

“My father?”  He asked.

“Yes,” the bus boy said. “The man with the dark hair who ordered for you.” He looked across the aisle. “He must’ve gotten off already.”

“That’s impossible.” He spat. “I ordered by myself.”

The bus boy looked at him with confusion. “No sir. He told us that you preferred a lid because you take great clumsy, strides when you walk. He told us that he’d watched you walk in front of him and gripe. He seemed to have known you very well, sir.”

Reiben blanky starred at the thin boy. He looked him up and down with his, and gently took the coffee cup from his hand.

“Thanks,” He trailed off as he turned around, coffee cup in hand.

As Reiben walked off of the train (by this point he was the last man aboard) and grabbed the metal handle to help him step off.

Through the quiet of the train though, he could hear the gentle clicking and clacking of a typewriter tucked somewhere within the train car. He peeked back into the car and saw the small bus boy, clad in proper military gear, devoid of any scratches or stains, pecking on the keys of a typewriter.

Reiben remembered.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

His Brooklyn neighborhood late at night felt more foreign than homely. He felt as though he was a phantom haunting the streets of an innocent community. His steps poisoned each broken slap of concrete on the sidewalk. His whole life felt like a dream at this point. He was the angry troll that had returned to the kingdom to terrorize the civilians with his gruesome aura.

He walked up the steps of your shared town house and fumbled with the keys to the door. It was an old, familiar sensation of tying to match they key with the lock. He felt as if it had been a decade since he had performed such a mundane action. A goblin breaking into the princess’ castle with a battering ram is how it translated in his head. He felt sick.

Once he had opened the door, he saw a welcome sight. A sight he wasn’t aware that he’d missed, he saw a room clean. The apartment was spotless. You didn’t know when Reiben was going to return, but you knew it could be any day, and you wanted to make sure it was welcome.

It was warm, too. He slipped his jacket off to stand in his olive toned sleeveless shirt and trousers as he stood in the doorway. A kitchen, a living room, a bathroom with a toilet. He could’ve cried.

His eyes then led him over to the staircase that led up to his favorite room. The room where he knew you were asleep, blissfully unaware of the man and his baggage that were standing in the house.

He gulped a nervous swallow as he slowly walked up the stairs. Pictures of you and him framed and polished held his hand as he took each agonizing step. Your eyes, full and bright in each picture. You almost seemed like a fantasized legend of folklore at this point. The sleeping mermaid princess being rudely intruded upon by the evil great white shark. The angry, great white shark.

He finally arrived at the bedroom. He perched at the doorway and watched your sleeping silhouette rise and fall at a snail’s pace. He could see your satin nightgown hug your curves as the blanket laid loosely on your frame.

He almost felt perverse for watching such a sight. It had been so long since he’d been able to love you the way he wanted. To touch you, caress you, gently nibble at the shell of your ear as he felt your weight on his lap. It felt like a lifetime ago, and with his newfound trauma, wondered if you’d even ever let him again. He thought about it all the time back overseas. He’d just never really thought it through.

He took his shirt and boots off at the base of the bed. He looked down at the empty space beside you that had grown cold and hollow. He forgot how exciting it was to simply crawl into a warm bed.

He laid down and to his surprise, felt the mattress welcome him home by reforming back to the comfort level in which he liked. At least the bed remembered him… at least.

He then turned on his side to you. Your back was turned away from him. Sleeping so soothed and gently, he wanted to touch you. Truth be told, that was the very least thing he wanted to do to you, but it was a good start.

Terrified, he reached the palm of his hand to rest on your shoulder. He could’ve cried again. You were warm, and your skin was soft. He hadn’t remembered the feeling of being warm and soft.

He couldn’t help himself; he brought another hand to your shoulder and did the same. Warm and soft.

Like a grizzly bear, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping you into a full hug. He loved it. He felt a sense of crazy euphoria. His skin goose bumped with the sensation. Bliss, that’s what it was, it was bliss.

The best part of the hug, however, was your sleeping figure turning to cuddle into his solid chest. Your nose brushing against his bicep as you settled into him. As if no time at all was lost, your two puzzle pieces fit back together and completed the picture.

He was angry, sad, and all ripped up inside when he came home to you, but with time, he felt that it would all be alright.

And when he awoke that morning, Reiben saw a white mourning dove sitting at his window.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥