#i think the straw that broke me was the fact that they all have a groupchat

[saturno-sol]

Yknow maybe it’s not a good thing to have kids with a ten year+ difference between them.

[monstersholygrail]

It broke your heart to leash and put a muzzle on your Werewolf bf. But ultimately you really didn’t have any other option.

Not when he was growling and snarling at anyone who dare to look at you too long. Protecting his territory and constantly preparing to fight off any human who he thinks is planning to take you away from him.

Even now with a leash attached to his pretty collar and the muzzle fit snuggly on his face, he still pulls and tugs on the leash, growling lowly as other hybrids pass by on your daily walks around the park. But at least now you nor anyone else has to worry about things getting out of hand.

Or at least that’s what you think…

Your bf is silently stewing, practically seething at the fact that you’ve done this to him. His bad mood only increasing the amount of times he snarls at his competitors for your affection that pass you by.

His limitations only serve to remind him what you’ve done to him. And boy does it make him want revenge. To teach you who’s really the one in charge here as the desire to make you submit roars inside of him.

That feeling only grows as your walk continues and by the time the two of you have gotten back to your home, your bf is practically vibrating in his skin. The need to pounce on you and mount you pumps through his veins and electrifies the urge.

You gently take off the leash and the muzzle and he finally feels free. Your soft smile and sweet touch never leave his face as you hang them up. For a second his heart warms at your affection but the clank of metal rings in his ears and he’s reminded he’ll have to wear them again for your walk later.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask lightly, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss before turning around and heading to your room.

Your bf’s eyes follow you closely like a predator hunting their prey. He smirks wickedly and lifts the leash off the hook before following you, tail wagging in excitement thinking about how he’s gonna demolish that sweet pussy of yours.

“You deserve a treat for being such a good boy. Can get you some from the kitchen in a minute,” you call out as you flick on the bedroom lights, preparing to change into your pajamas for the night.

At your comment he freezes outside your door, vision flashing till all he sees is red. That was the final straw and before he can stop himself, your bf is swiftly jumping out to pounce on you.

You yelp as his body barrels into yours, pinning you to the bed before you can even blink. He chuckles darkly, claws digging into the flesh of your wrists to keep you still for him.

“A snack?! No, babygirl, imma take the whole meal. I think I’ve earned it after what you put me through.”

Your eyes widen as you realize where this is coming from. Your body squirms but he pushes his hips against yours and you whine as his cock nudges against your wet folds. His dominating presence turning you on more than you can admit.

“I-it was just a precaution, please,” you beg, though you don’t know what you’re begging for.

But as he takes out the leash he was holding and starts tying it around your wrists, binding them to the bedpost, you know. You’re begging for more.

“Yeah, well I can’t have you squirmin’ ‘round on me. So this is just a precaution,” he mocks with a dangerous smile that has his fangs glittering in the sunlight.

With a harsh tug your bf exposes your messy folds. He runs his fingers down your soaked slit and you cry out, hips jerking up to meet his teasing touch.

“Ahhh, it seems like you’ve been lying to me. You like it when I’m like this. It gets you all hot and wet— fucking hell you’re dripping all over my hand, love.” A rumble moves through his chest as he sees just how desperate you are for him.

Not waiting a moment more he removes his pulsing cock from its sheath and slams himself inside you in the blink of an eye. You moan loudly, body bucking at the sudden intrusion. But the leash and his hands keep you tied down as he pounds his length deep inside your pussy.

Whimpers leave you as you’re left defenseless against his attack, his brutal pace jolting your body with each thrust with no way to add to the pleasure he forces onto you. No matter how much you try and squirm it’s no use. You can’t reach him.

“Oh fuck, please. Take the leash off. Let me touch you, please, let me touch you!”

You let out a strangled whine as he starts aiming for the soft spot along your walls. Your bf shushes you gently, a clawed hand moving to hold your neck in a firm grip.

“Sh, sh, sh. No talking. Wouldn’t want me to get the muzzle now,” he rasps as he quickens his pace, leaving you mewling as your back arches unnaturally.

He goes on for what feels like forever. Bringing you to climax over and over again. Only allowing short sounds of pleasure to leave your lips. His grip on your neck squeezing every time you talk until you cum on his cock and it all starts over.

By the time you’re done and he gently removes the leash from your wrists, your body is nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yet you still have the strength to immediately cling onto your bf, keeping him close as he whispers praises in your ear about how good you did for him and how he can’t wait for your next walk so you can do this again.

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI

Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.

An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.

There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.

For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.

He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.

Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.

Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.

You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.

Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.

He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.

Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.

His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.

All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.

After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.

His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.

“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.

“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.

He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.

“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.

“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.

A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.

He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.

After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.

The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.

“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.

“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“

Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.

Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”

*** *** ***

“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”

“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.

“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.

“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”

“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”

“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.

Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.

“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”

“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”

“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.

“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.

“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.

It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.

*** *** ***

Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.

Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.

Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.

The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.

He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.

He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.

Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.

Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.

He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have

He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.

You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.

The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.

“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.

*** *** ***

Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.

His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.

Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.

Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.

Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.

He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.

At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.

It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.

You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-

The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.

Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.

"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.

"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."

Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"

"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.

"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.

His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”

You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”

Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.

“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”

“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.

“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”

*** *** ***

You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.

Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.

When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.

“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.

“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”

“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”

The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”

“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”

“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.

“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.

The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.

“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.

“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living

He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.

"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.

He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.

"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.

"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.

"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"

"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.

"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.

Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.

Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.

"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.

"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.

"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.

Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"

You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.

"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.

"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.

Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.

"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."

"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.

"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."

"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.

The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.

He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.

"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.

Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.

Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.

"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.

Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."

Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."

Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.

"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."

Bonus Scene!

Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.

You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.

"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.

"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.

"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.

"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.

"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.

"You didn't-"

"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.

"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.

"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"

"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.

Read the rest of my monstertober here !

[felinecyan]

Perfectly Fine

[Keigo Takami x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Hawks plays off that everything is “perfectly fine,” but you know better than to believe him.

WC: 2186

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Soft!Reader, Slight Angst

I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with Hawks and angst, I blame Conan Gray being stuck in my head 24/7, but here you go! 😀👍

『••✎••』

You knew he wasn't okay.

You saw him every day. You spent more time with him than anyone else in his life. He had always been so bright and so positive that it was jarring when you realized just how exhausted he truly was.

He tried. He tried so hard. He was smiling and making jokes like normal. It was so hard not to get caught up in his infectious positivity. But you knew him well enough to see through it all.

And his eyes said it all.

They weren't as bright and golden as they normally were. They looked dim. The dark circles underneath were a clear indication that he hadn't been sleeping well lately—or at all.

This was the one thing you absolutely despised about Keigo. His independence was a good aspect to have for a pro-hero, but not when it was detrimental to his own health.

He was always doing things on his own. He was a people pleaser, so of course, he didn't want to ask for help. It was his problem, so he'd handle it himself.

And you wished you could just knock some sense into that bird brain of his.

The last straw was when he came home in the middle of the night, completely disheveled, and collapsed on the couch.

It wasn't uncommon for him to come home late, and you were usually already asleep, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were still awake.

And it was almost 3 am.

You had heard him enter the house. You were about to get up to greet him, but his heavy footsteps had paused at the doorway. The silence continued for a few seconds until you heard him stumble and collapse onto the couch.

You got up immediately and rushed into the living room. Your heart broke at the sight of him.

He was sitting on the floor with his back on the couch. He had taken off his jacket and boots. His wings were limp, and the feathers were ruffled and messy. His head was in his hands, and his hair was an absolute mess.

"Keigo," you whispered, walking up to him.

You had a million questions going through your mind, but you were also worried he was hurt, so you decided to keep it simple.

"Are you okay?"

He didn't move. Not even his wings.

He did speak, however, but you wished he hadn't.

"Perfectly fine."

The words were like poison. His tone was so cold, so dark, so unlike him. You hated it. You had to force yourself not to recoil in disgust.

Just as he said those words, he made himself even worse by letting out a dry, humorless chuckle. It was so unnatural and wrong coming from him.

It scared you. It angered you. You couldn't understand how he could be like this.

You knelt down in front of him, placing your hands over his.

"Keigo," you murmured. "I’m begging you. Please don't do this."

"Do what?" His eyes met yours, completely focused. It was almost unnerving. "What am I doing?"

"You're pushing me away," you stated, trying to keep your voice from cracking. "Again."

His gaze lingered for a few moments before his eyes trailed to the floor. He let out a sigh, sounding almost irritated.

"I told you, I'm fine," he muttered, his expression hardening. "You should get some sleep."

His tone was much harsher than before, and it was beginning to frustrate you.

"I can't do that," you whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't, Keigo," you said, your voice rising. "You make it so… so difficult for me to just sit back and watch you do this. You keep saying that everything is fine, but it isn't. It's not. You know it's not."

He was silent, and you were beginning to think that he was refusing to respond to you.

"You've been coming home at weird hours, and you don't even try to hide the fact that you're exhausted. Your eyes have bags under them, and your wings are a complete mess. You look so pale, Keigo."

"I’m—"

"If you say you're fine one more time," your voice was trembling, and your eyes were starting to burn. "I swear, I will throw myself out of this window."

That made a small smile creep onto his face. It wasn’t genuine, but it was a start.

"As much as I love pancakes, you know I wouldn’t let you go through with that," he said, his tone becoming lighter.

You didn't hesitate.

"Then why are you making me go through with this?"

You didn't miss the small flinch he did. If you’d been in this situation a couple of years ago, you would’ve missed it.

But not anymore. You knew him better than anyone.

"We’re supposed to be partners, remember? You’re a harder book to read, Keigo, and I’m sorry I’m too easy for you, but we should be able to trust each other."

He only looked down and let out a sigh. He was trying so hard to keep his composure, but his emotions were beginning to break through.

You reached forward and gently placed your hand on his cheek, turning his face so he would look at you.

"And if something is bothering you, you should want to tell me. But I can’t help but feel like I'm not good enough to be someone you can confide in because if you did, then maybe you wouldn't look like this right now." You brushed a lock of his golden hair away from his forehead.

He looked so tired. So defeated.

And he was. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was struggling with himself. It was as if he were weighing his options.

Stay silent or talk to you.

Stay strong or admit his weakness.

You wanted him to choose the latter. You needed him to choose the latter. If he was going to keep pretending everything was fine, your heart couldn’t take it.

A moment of silence passed, and then two, and then three. It was like an eternity had gone by.

Then, finally, the room was filled with his deep, shaky exhale. The environment changed. The air was thicker. You felt the tension and the stress and the sadness.

"I'm not the person you deserve."

It was such a simple phrase, but you were stunned. He sounded so broken, and you didn’t understand why.

"I don't deserve you," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “I never did."

You were just speechless. You were expecting his troubles to be something along the lines of work or the Hero Public Safety Commission. It probably still is, but you weren’t expecting him to feel… insecure about himself.

"That’s…" You shook your head. "No, Keigo, that's not true. Why would you think that?"

"Why wouldn't I think that?"

He didn't wait for your response.

"I'm too focused on being a hero," he started, his expression hardening again. "I'm always out. I'm never here. Sure, I kidnap you and make you my hostage every once in a while, but even then, I'm always thinking about work. Always thinking about how I can save more people. I'm always busy, and when I'm not, I'm exhausted."

His hands tightened into fists.

"You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. Someone who can take the time to actually appreciate you, not just a text here and there, or a quick phone call, or a stupid note. You deserve someone who doesn’t have to leave the house before the sun even rises."

Your eyes were beginning to water, and you tried not to sniffle, but it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself.

"You deserve a life where you can relax. You deserve someone who you know is always going to be there when you need it. I can't be that for you, and it's frustrating because I really wish I could."

"Oh, Takami," you whispered, pulling him towards you.

His arms wrapped around your waist, and his face was buried in the crook of your neck. He was holding onto you as if he were hanging on for dear life.

"I hate being like this." His voice was muffled, but you could still hear the disgust in his tone.

"Like what?"

"So pathetic," he grumbled. "I hate acting like a kid. Like an immature, needy little… little child."

He had trouble getting the last word out. You couldn't tell whether it was because he was frustrated or ashamed, or both.

"Hey," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. It seemed to always soothe him. "It’s not immaturity, and it definitely is not childish. It’s just being human."

You could feel him let out a long, deep exhale.

"You are the Number 2 Pro-Hero. You're a very busy man. I knew it then, and I know it now. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be with you."

You paused, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, sometimes I get lonely, and I miss you, and it sucks. Sometimes, I want to lock you in the house and not let you leave until the end of the world, but that wouldn't be fair to your fangirls.”

That earned a small chuckle from him.

"And it wouldn't be fair to all those innocent people who need you too. I don't like having to share you with the entire city, but that's just the way it is, and it's something I knew I had to get used to."

His arms squeezed around your waist. You felt his warm breath on your neck, which made you shiver slightly.

"And it's not your fault, either. We will have times like these, where you're too busy, and we won't see each other for a while, but at the end of the day, I'm still going to be waiting for you. At the end of the day, we’ll be perfectly fine."

"What a sap," he mumbled, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey! I'm trying to be romantic!" You playfully smacked his shoulder. "Be grateful."

He chuckled and pulled away from the embrace. You didn't want him to at first, but when you saw his expression, you smiled.

He was grinning. He was finally genuinely happy. There was a twinkle in his eye, and his wings were perked up. His feathers were starting to look much cleaner and fluffier. He was starting to look like his old self.

"I'll make a mental note of that," he replied, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "You are the cutest sap ever."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes and let out a laugh. "Go to bed, bird boy."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on," he said, holding his hands up. "You're not going to give me a good night kiss?"

You scoffed.

"And you say you’re not childish."

"No, seriously."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your arms instinctively went around his neck, and you squealed and caught off guard.

"Hey!" You protested, trying to glare at him, but it was hard to do when he was looking at you with such adoration.

"C'mere," he hummed, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's see how good of a kisser you really are."

"Okay, no, let's not," you said, leaning away from him. "That was awful. That was worse than awful."

"Oh, c'mon!" He chuckled, his eyes full of amusement. "I've been waiting to use that for ages."

"Well, don't," you said, shaking your head. "That just made me want to turn into a pancake even more."

"It’s too bad we don't have syrup," he joked, giving you a quick wink. "Guess I'll have to improvise."

"That's it," you said, trying to push him away, but he only laughed and pulled you closer.

"Stop trying to avoid the inevitable, darling," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours.

"Please don't say anything else," you begged, your face growing warm. "Please. I'm not kidding, Takami."

"Neither am I."

And this… This was what everything was worth.

Keigo looked so content. He was happy. He was relaxed. He wasn't thinking about anything but this moment. He wasn't overthinking things. He wasn't forcing himself to stay positive.

He was just being him, finally. The rest of the night the discussion wasn’t brought up again, and it didn’t need to. You both knew exactly what the other was thinking… feeling. And sure, there’s no doubt there’ll be another time when he will be stressed out again, overworking himself and pushing himself too hard, but you would be there to pull him back down.

You would be there to remind him that everything would be okay and that no matter how hard he tries to fix it all on his own, you would simply remind him that he doesn’t have to do that anymore.

He doesn’t need to keep hiding behind that smile; the only smile he should ever have is the real one.

The one where he truly is perfectly fine.

[twiishaa]

sanji x reader ; wc 1.4k warnings again i shat this out at 3am and there are parts i’m not too happy with but i think it’s okay as a whole <3 tiny tiny bit of angst if you squint?? fem!reader <3 here’s my masterlist!

it had only been a few weeks since you joined the straw hats’ crew. to leave your home and everything you’ve known behind to pursue a life on the sea, on the run from the world government on a whim was a big decision, but you didn’t regret it. being part of such a lively crew made it worth it, you guys were like a family already.

but they didn’t need to know you did it partly because the blond cook of theirs was kinda…

anyways. that can stay between you and me <3

it was the middle of the night, and you finally sat up after hours of not being able to sleep. maybe it was the humidity on the ship, or maybe it was the small, lingering homesick feeling you had. you drowsily made your way to the deck, the slightly salty wind waking you up a little. now that you were out of your room, it was homesickness that was keeping you awake. you hadn’t felt homesick these past weeks, why were you feeling it now? this had been everything you were dreaming of—adventure, fun, and friends you knew you’d go to the end of the grand line for, even though you’d only known them a quarter of the time they’d known each other.

oh.

was homesickness that feeling you felt sometimes, when everyone was laughing together?

you cast your mind back to the time you’d feel sad at home. your mum would be able to sense your mood from rooms away and bake you blueberry muffins. after eating them, you’d forget about your worries and give your mum a cheery smile, whether covered in blueberry juice and crumbs or not. and so, you made your way to the kitchen, hoping that baking some blueberry muffins now would cure your loneliness, despite the ungodly hour.

hopefully sanji won’t mind... 

remembering the recipe from some corner in the back of your mind was proving to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, paired with the unfamiliarity of the ship’s kitchen. to be honest, you were having fun! it was like a game, which drawer will the wooden spoon be in? not long after, the batter was complete and distributed into their muffin cases. it was a miracle you found everything; however, that didn’t mask the moderately large mess that had built up over the course of baking the muffins. fond memories of your mum walking through the door to find you covered in flour and your lips stained with blueberry juice flooded back to you; you felt at home again, even if you weren’t physically. not long after you cleaned the counter and put the muffins in the oven, the comforting smell of fresh muffins filled the kitchen, and you took a step back to admire your work. your spirits were definitely lifted. maybe blueberry muffins are the solution to most problems.

meanwhile, in sanji’s room (room??? quarter????? wherever he’s sleeping, please just roll with it), he was awakened by the light scent of… blueberry muffins? he rolled over to check the time. nobody could be possibly be baking something at such a time… maybe he was still dreaming. nonetheless, he groggily got up just to confirm his suspicion—to make sure that no one had broke onto the ship… and decided to bake blueberry muffins… or something.

as sanji approached the kitchen, he noticed the lights were on, and a figure standing right in front of the oven.

oh?

now he was concerned. the figure was… a girl?

what? this is one strange dream… he thought to himself.

when he could finally distinguish that it was, in fact, a girl, and that it was you, of all people, he was just confused. he leaned against the doorframe, observing how you were looking at the oven like you were watching over a child. from this angle, he could make out that you were making blueberry muffins.

“what do we have here, hm? why are you up so late, [name]?”

you screamed in response, then swiftly covered your mouth as you remembered the time.

sanji chuckled. “hello to you too,” his look still conveyed sheer confusion, but he was somewhat enjoying it now.

you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, both from embarrassment and that your secret crush, of sorts, was talking to you.

the fact that it was the middle of the night as you were baking muffins in his kitchen without asking him was irrelevant. sanji was talking to you!

you laughed nervously. “I just woke up in the middle of the night and I… really wanted blueberry muffins… so I decided to bake some…” he looked at you, evidently quite amused.

“sorry if I messed up your kitchen! or if you don’t like people using it or something.. I should have asked you before…” you trailed off timidly.

sanji laughed again, before moving to lean on the counter beside you. “It’s fine, honestly! besides, I didn’t know you bake, how come you’ve never said anything about it?”

lies.

usually, sanji was very particular with who touches the equipment in the kitchen, but he could let it slide for a pretty girl like you, or so he thought.

what you didn’t know is that your little crush was mutual—sanji had his eye on you,

not in a stalker-ish way, no!

—ever since he saw you when the crew stayed on your island. since then, he gradually started to become less and less flirty as he used to around nami and nico robin, even if you didn’t notice. he really only had eyes for you, following you around the ship as best as he could without looking like a weirdo. it was bad, he was down bad for you. by some power of the gods, you hadn’t noticed yet. everyone had noticed—even zoro, who took the opportunity to tease him every second he got; sanji was so down bad that he didn’t mind being teased about it. he did become aware of your lingering stares from time to time, but for the sake of his sanity, he just pretended he didn’t see anything and looked away, because if your eyes met you would see how flustered he actually was.

“oh, no, I don’t bake often! my mum taught me this recipe and I make it when I feel… lonely , or I don’t know, I think I just missed the taste of them.” you replied. sanji’s expression turned into one of worry. was there something wrong?

“no, no! it’s not you guys, I just… it’s my first time being away for so long, it’s just different to anything ive done before, and I just want comfort in something that I know… I probably make no sense right now..” you quickly added.

sanji shook his head. “no, I get it. doing something different is scary, and I think you’re really brave, [name].” he gave you a reassuring smile.

you blushed a little, but sanji caught sight of it and his eyes widened a little, before laughing. that little interaction was enough to confirm there was something between the two of you, but maybe the middle of the night wasn’t the best time to confront it…

beeeeeep!

the two of you were interrupted by the timer going off, indicating that the muffins were done. by now, the scent of blueberry muffins was overflowing in the kitchen, causing the two of you to laugh. as you went to take them out of the oven, sanji stopped you abruptly.

“let me do it; I wouldn’t want you to get burnt,” he took the gloves from you and took the muffins out, placing them on the counter.

damn. they looked better than you thought they would.

while the muffins were cooling, you and sanji continued your conversation from earlier, but now there was something in the air other than the smell of blueberry muffins. all of sanji’s responses had a warmer tone to them, maybe because he knew that you felt the same way, or maybe because he learnt something about you today that the rest of the crew didn’t know, he was someone special to you. the night passed quickly and soon you could see the sun rising, signalling that it was probably a good time to get at least some sleep before the entire crew awoke.

sanji could feel the effect of the sleep he lost that night and he was visibly tired in the morning, as were you; but he didn’t mind losing sleep over you if it meant one day he could be your boyfriend. <3

notes i love sanji so much <33 this was inspired by when i made blueberry muffins for my mom 😽 should i do a 100 followers event pls lmk and also send in any reqs you want love you !!

[alchemistc]

911 was always in my periphery bc of how popular Buck x Eddie is on Tumblr and Ao3. I didn't really want to watch a cable network procedural drama, especially one that came off as so unserious. I could also see how such invested shipping by a lot of fans who are young and think it’s ok to demand things from the cast and crew would inevitably become a toxic cesspool. I stand by that assessment of the show based on the behavior of the fandom these last months, as well as the overall quality of the writing and how often good story lines just get dropped or undermined.

However, I heard about Buck coming out. Over the summer, I was going through a lot and feeling aimless, so I finally started watching the show. And I liked Buck and Tommy, but what I really loved was the quality of the fan works they inspired. At the end of the day, I never really had real expectations of high quality television from a show like 911; that’s not what it’s for.

Despite this, what really affected me last night—which was also the first episode I bothered watching live ever because of how terrible this last week has been—wasn’t even how badly it was executed or the fact that they broke up. But how unnecessarily and viciously cruel the whole thing felt?

What was the point of showing Tommy as a caring, supportive, present partner in the previous episode if it was going to lead to an unceremonious break up? What was the point of showing his yearning for connection and family only to see him throw it all away? Why have him say such wonderful things about Buck moments before questioning the commitment of their relationship after six months together? What was the point of Buck getting that speech from Josh and bringing up marriage and moving in together and that Tommy had been a transformative relationship when it was going to end with him being dumped? It just felt so horribly cruel to see a character bare his tender heart and see it get stomped on. He looked so sad at the end.

Up till the very end of the episode, I was actually really enjoying it. Their acting was so good from heart eyes to heartbreak, and the show seemed to understand Tommy’s reaction to Buck getting hit on by those women would cause friction. It even made sense to me that Tommy would recoil at the prospect of moving in together because Buck clearly hasn’t come to terms with being queer yet (sir, you haven’t researched the Kinsey scale? You?) And Tommy is also clearly afraid to reach for the connections he wants and the seeming inevitability of his heart being broken and is masking that with nonsense about Buck needing to play the field and the biphobia present wherein. It was such an interesting depth to his character! I thought the break up speech was so well-acted, and I was so ready for the conversation they were going to have that would address it and let them move on together stronger. To see Buck learn from Josh and see the scars Tommy was unintentionally revealing in that moment and address them.

And then the credits started rolling and I felt like I got punched in the gut.

It was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back for me, with the election and other personal stuff really stressing me out this week. Last night, I felt sick and unable to sleep, and I spent the morning bawling my eyes out. It feels like one of the few things I really looked forward to had been snatched away for the shock factor. I believe the interviews are the definite death knell, but even if you don’t follow the interviews, it was just a cruel way to end the episode. Even if this ends up being a temporary roadblock or they “fix” it, it’ll always leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Anyway, I’m upset that I let a show I always knew wasn’t very good affect me this much, and I regret spending months of my life on it. But the reason I wanted to send this ask was because my real hyperfixation these last few months was never the show itself; it was always the Bucktommy fandom. Reading some of the most beautiful fanfiction, including yours, these deep and intense character studies or au’s or future fics that show more love to these characters than the show does. The stunning art, the lovingly rendered gifs, the startlingly funny and insightful writing. The fandom has been my real love, and I hope that despite this huge blow, people like you will continue being so immensely creative and artistic for this ship.

I’m sorry this has been so long and vent-y, but I wanted to send you this ask because you’re one of my favorite fic authors, and I’ve been following your posts since last night and you’re still responding to anonymous asks. I’ve always been stealth in the fandom to avoid certain parts of it, so didn’t want this on my own blog. If you do publish it, I hope the other authors and artists and creators who have made my life better get to see it too <3 And that they don’t regret the time and passion and love they’ve poured into the last few months. I have appreciated it, if nothing else.

Hi.

First of all, please don't apologize for the length of this.

Everything you pointed out were exactly the reasons people joined this fandom. Everything you listed here is EXACTLY the reason it left such a bad taste in our mouth.

I'm sorry I won't be more eloquent in this post, because this is such a kind and thoughtful and lovely summation of all the things I've been hearing and seeing and feeling.

The point of all that, if we are to believe Lou (which I do, and honestly props to him for being as gracious as he was in those post-mortems: fucking TWO exit interviews for a guest star? wtf abc), WAS to pull the rug out from under the audience. It WAS to end it all on a shocker of heartbreak. They filmed the bulk of Tommy's S8 scenes AFTER the breakup. It is absolutely vicious and cruel and meant to make people talk about it. The engagement they are getting right now is to some extent WHAT THEY WANTED. I went straight to my notes after work and I can't be fucked to check the insta or FB to see if they've posted anything new and/or what the comment count is on the 8x06 posts but THIS IS THE INTENDED RESULT. Broken hearts, upset people, an increasingly toxic fandom crowing.

That's where I'm at. I think that's where a lot of people have landed. And it's so disheartening to see something that really genuinely drew people in because it was handled so gently and kindly at first just be ripped away and the door shut on it.

And honestly if they close the mid season OR open or close 8B on a premise that includes one of them being injured and the other having a Realization™️ I won't trust this team to do it genuinely or truly. Even the breakup would have held so much potential for me, but not like this.

Anyway. I'm sorry you're feeling so disappointed. I am grieving the missed potential of literally every plot they built up this season for every character and if I do watch it won't be live and I will likely have very little trust for it's potential. There has been So Much wasted potential.

And I want to say thank you. Even if you lurked, even if you disengage now, the creators who made those works made them out of love and they wanted to share them and the community around it all has been lovely to see. Thank you.

Some of us will still be hanging around building the world that could have been. I hope, if you feel up to peeking at that sandbox, that you feel welcome to go play in it or even just clap from the sidelines.

♥️

[demonmarker]

Beautiful with you

Regina x Reader (Masc. Lesbian)

Chapter 1

Regina George. The Queen B of North Shore High, known for her dominance and the fact that anything she does is always for her self-gain, and you have absolutely nothing to do with her. Never had, never will, so you thought.

Like any other day you sat by yourself in the cafeteria at lunch, drawing in your sketchbook like you always did with your Doc Martin feet kicked up on the table, earbuds in with Bad Omens playing in your ear as you work on your latest idea for a new tattoo on the back of your neck when at the corner of your eye you see movement and… pink? You glance in the direction of the movement and see none other than THE Regina George clicking her fingers at you to get your attention. You had a small hallway crush on Regina. But who doesn't? You even have a realism drawing of her in your sketchbook, but you didn’t bother drooling over her or even bother trying to talk to her. You tried doing the whole friends thing when you were a kid and you were always left crying and humiliated, so it was a loner life for you and your sketchbook was the only friend you needed. Curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled out one of your ear buds showing she got your attention, “Regina” your voice low and husky since you never really talked much at school. “Oh my god finally,” your eyes narrow, not impressed by her opening line. “Come sit with us”, waving a beaconing hand. You lift one of your eyebrows up in suspicion, “Me? The tattooed lesbian loner freak? Sitting at the Plastics table? With the most popular and beautiful girls in the whole school? Yeah, I can see a red flag when I see it so… I’m going to pass.” Regina stuck her chest out proudly with a matching smile, “You think I’m beautiful?” You rolled your eyes and put your earbud back in your ear signalling that that was the end of their conversation. At the corner of your eye you see Regina get out of her seat and walk off, guessing you did the trick, no way was she really wanting to hang with you, like every other time it would probably have ended in a cruel prank that everyone but you found hilarious. Without warning your sketchbook was ripped out of your hands by the familiar blond using your book to swat your feet off the table, sitting where they once were. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Regina just held up her hand to silence you, and it. Fucking. Worked. The abruptness took you off guard. Queen B started flipping through your drawings, your cheeks going red knowing that the drawing you did of her is in there. “Hey, that’s private!” you tried snatching your art diary back but she was quicker, moving it out of your reach. “I don’t know why, these are surprisingly good. I was expecting stick figures at best, look you even coloured inside the lines.” Ignoring the insult your leg starts anxiously bobbing up and down rapidly from the anticipation of her discovering the drawing of herself, in that moment you’d rather defuse a bomb. Flicking another page Regina stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. The feeling of being so helpless to stop the inevitable made your anger rise, flashbacks of people laughing and humiliating you start running through your head. It wasn’t fair! This keeps happening again and again. Your anger gets the better of you and you abruptly get up from the table and storm off.

Getting to your locker, you attempt to enter the code into the lock but of course in you fit of rage you missed a number and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as you smash your fist into the metal door “Fuck!”, removing your bloody fist from the now red dent in the locker door, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming on. “My god, you are such a drama queen!” the familiar voice of the cause of your anger exclaimed from behind. Your head snaps to see the blond beauty again, her eyes go to the bloody fist print you dented into your locker “Got it all out?” her eyebrows raised, seeing the blood, her eyes darted to your bloody knuckles hanging by your side. She gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed you by the sleeve of your dark red leather jacket, “Come with me”, not like you had an option.

Pulling you out to the car park and to her red jeep she opened the passenger door and then the glove box grabbing a small first aid kit out, she held her hand out for your injured one and all you could do was watch in stunned silence as this woman–who everyone saw as the Queen Bitch herself–delicately cleaned and bandaged your injury. She glanced up at your confused expression “Stop looking at me like that you dork.” Being called out made your cheeks go red, instantly reacting you let out a “Sorry” like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Wait, why am I apologizing? You started this, give me back my sketchbook!” tying the bandage’s knot she raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to chuck a hissy fit and punch your locker now did I dummy? Say please and I’ll give you the sketchbook,” she grinned. Your eyebrows scrunched “No!” you snapped back. Lifting an eyebrow with a mischievous grin, she took a step closer to you while pulling your face down to hers, your faces barely inches apart, “Say. Please.” Your cheeks went beat red, being so close to the beautiful goddess you could smell her perfume and feel her breath on your face, all making you want to give into her, the want to obey your submissive side was almost overwhelming, “P-please”. Her grin grew, her hand still holding your collar pulled you the rest of the way to her lips. Those lips. Those soft, plump, intoxicating lips. You completely lose yourself, never wanting the kiss to end. She wraps her arm around your neck, her hand gently caressing the back of your head under your tied up black hair where your undercut is shaved almost to the skin. When you let a moan escape your throat you feel her something flat being pushed against your chest which you instinctively grab blindly. Pulling back, Regina ended the kiss by pulling on your lower lip with her teeth which you automatically moaned to. She put her forehead against yours reaching up she wipes her lipstick from your lips, softly whispering to your lips “Good girl”.

When you come down from cloud nine you see her already walking back to the main school building, Fuck, what just happened? You look down to the object in your hands and find your sketchbook with one page dog eared. You turn to the marked page which was the drawing of Regina, a message written in the open space of the page “You're kinda hot, come to my place after school today. Meet me by my car.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, Regina George just kissed you! And she wants to meet up with you again! The rational side of your brain kicked in and made you question if this was all some sort of trick, telling you to keep your walls up, scenarios like this don’t happen to loners like you. It’s not like you could hang out after school anyway.

Trying to get through all the scattering people at the end of school was always a nightmare but you manage to make your way to Regina’s jeep, the blond standing against the bright red car in waiting. Seeing you approach she straightens up “Hey Loser, you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at the nickname. “I’m sorry I can’t today.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And why not?” “I-“ you start but you hesitate, you look off into the distance as you argue with yourself whether to tell her the truth and let her in, no one knows what really goes on in your life and you liked that way it kept everyone safe. Or should you just brush it off and leave it at that? You release a sigh, “Would you be up to letting me show you?” Regina narrowed her eyes wondering if she should trust you or not “You’re not going to take me to some creepy warehouse and murder me are you? The pretty blond always dies first and you got the whole broody, loner killer vibe going on” she gestured to your whole person. You roll your eyes “Do you want to or not?” Chucking her hands up in defeat “Argh fine”, she walked to the passenger side of her car as you got in the drivers. Once comfortable you get a confused look on your face as you look at the dash, Regina looking at you with her own look of confusion, “Remind me again which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator”

The look of disbelief she gave you was priceless, “You can’t be serious” You cackle from her reaction, “I’m joking” you continue to laugh as she slaps your arm, already feeling at ease around her. “Don’t worry I’ve got my full license, your baby is safe with me.” “She fucking better be” she mumbled.

Ch.02 Ch.03

[allbark-no-bite]

marriage and honor.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.5k)

summary: the Navy has already taken two people from your life, and you don’t intend to let there be a third. that is until Jake Seresin walks into your life

warnings: severe plot holes, mentions of character death, swearing

authors note: based off of the movie Purple Hearts. it’s a great movie and i highly suggest watching it! please bear with me in the beginning of this, the plot holes fix themselves, i promise lol. i literally threw this together because i wrote one scene for shits and giggles and had to commit to it

(read parts two and three here: december and devotion, cats and christmas)

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No one ever expects to have to bury their brother at fifteen. Kinda just like no one expects to have to bury their other brother at eighteen. But you do it the first time and then you do it again three years later. It's a bit like deja vu the second time, like you're reliving the actual nightmare all over again. Except this time there's no one to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be alright because he's dead and buried too.

They both die honorable deaths in service to their country. At least that's what they say at the memorials. You're not so sure there's anything comforting about dying honorably. They're both still dead, honored or not.

Raised by your grandparents, you'd grown up the youngest of three on a military base smack dab in the middle of San Diego, better yet known as Fightertown USA. True military brats, your old brothers enlisted straight out of high school, one after the other. As their young and impressionable kid sister, you worshiped the ground they walked on and had your heart set on following in their footsteps. That was of course, until they both went and died.

'Sometime these things just happen', is what you were told. And you know, freak accidents do happen. Engines fail, training exercises go awry, safety precautions are ignored. But that doesn't make up for the fact that lightning has, against all odds, stuck the same place twice.

So after the Navy takes away not one but two people from your life, you swear off all things to do with military life. The moment you graduate high school you pay out of pocket just to move off of the base into a shitty the-bedroom-and-bathroom-are-in-the-same-place apartment. You go to college and get the kind of degree that looks good on paper but you can't really get a job with. But it's fine because it helped you to put the past behind you and move on. So much that when your grandmother passes away unexpectedly, leaving your grandfather widowed, you're able to stomach moving back closer to home to take care of him.

At least, you'd thought that you had moved on.

Now, standing in the middle of the courthouse wearing what had been your college graduation dress (the only white dress you could find on such short notice) and watching the man before you slip a ring on your finger, you're not so sure. As a matter of a fact, you actually feel sick, queasy like you might have to bend over the nearest trashcan to get the blood rushing to your head again. That might would be a good idea because what the hell were you thinking.

Jake must take notice of the expression on your face because he offers you a weak smile, his pink lips pressed together. The same thought must be running through his mind too because he also looks like he might be sick at any moment.

What the hell were either of you thinking?

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Thankfully the minister is too bored looking with his own job to notice that both of you are looking worse for wear. He also completely forgets to say 'you may now kiss the bride', which is another thing to be thankful for. That might have been the straw that broke the camel's back and sent both you and Jake running for the hills. Instead he mumbles a unenthusiastic congratulations and departs from the room, leaving you and Jake standing numbly side by side.

In the following seconds after the minister leaves the room, silence settles between the two of you, partially due to shock and partially because you don't even know what to say. It's a sight, Jake in his pristine navy dress whites and you in your too short college graduation dress.

Finally, Jake clears his throat, swallowing. "Well, there's no turning back now."

*queue rewind noise* 

You may be wondering how we got here.

*six days ago*

"C'mon baby, you didn't think that was funny? Girls usually love that line."

He'd been after you all night, smiling, cracking jokes, buying you beers. You had to admit, he was nothing if not persistant.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't date funny guys." Despite your tone, you're actually genuinely amused by the situation. He's trying so hard, and it's getting him absolutely nowhere.

He's handsome, without a doubt the most attractive man at the bar, but he could be the most attractive man in the world and you still wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Not with that smile and defiantly not with that uniform on.

"And why is that?" he laughs, undeterred by your blatant disinterest. His friends are watching, have been watching the two of you do this dance all night, and he's not about to back down now.

You watch the smile lines that appear on his tanned face, the way his eyes crinkle in amusement as he awaits on your answer. He's probably a few years your senior, early thirties if that's anything to go by.

"Funny guys are dangerous. They make you laugh and laugh and then boom you're naked."

His smile twitches and yeah, you can be funny too, wise guy.

"Is that where you think this is going?" he asks.

"Where else would it be going?"

And that's how it all started. The beginning of the end.

"You know navy spouses get a monthly stipend and are allowed to live on base?"

You remain facing the bar, peeling at the label on your bottle, not bothering to glance to your side. "You know, I really fucking wish Natasha would keep her mouth shut."

"(Y/n)—"

"It's no one else's fucking business what—"

He grabs the seat of your stool, nearly jerking it out from under you as he pulls it closer to his own. "Listen to me," he growls, a stark change from his usual demeanor.

Stubbornly leaning away so that you're not so close, you regard him with suspicious and narrowed eyes. You raise an eyebrow as if to say he's got your attention, however unwillingly.

"Right now, we're both in a tight spot, okay?"

You knew about his dad. Heard the whole spiel from Natasha— who you're learning that while, your best friend, cannot be trusted to keep her mouth shut— about how they weren't on good terms, hadn't talked since Jake got into the academy, and suddenly he calls out of the blue to tell Jake that he'd had enough of his son's playing around and that it was time for him to start thinking about getting married. That if he didn't within the next few months, he'd arrange the whole thing himself.

"You need a place to live—" You shush him, eyes darting to the people around you. You don't need anyone knowing that you can't exactly afford to pay your rent. Jake rolls his eyes because he doubts anyone could hear him even if he was yelling with how loud it is in the bar, but he lowers his voice regardless. "You need a place to live, and I need to get my old man off of my back..." He trails off, as if you should know where he's going with this.

You don't. You're just staring at him with an increasingly annoyed expression on your face, wondering how soon you can get out of this conversation.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. 

"Hear me out, okay? What if we get married?"

You had actually laughed in his face at first, and Jake was so dead serious about it that he didn't even dwell on the fact that it was the first time you had laughed at something that he'd said.

"Not a chance in hell, Seresin,"  had been your second response. But that's the thing with pretty guys, they can be awfully convincing.

It all happens so fast that you have metaphorical whiplash. Next thing you know, you're wearing a brand new diamond on your finger and going out to the bar with his entire squad the night before their deployment.

Of course, they're all a bit shocked at first. You would be too. You and Jake hadn't exactly been even remotely civil with each other just a few days prior. But if any of them are suspicious of your's and Jake's sudden union, they don't let on, all too happy to have something to celebrate before they ship out. Fanboy and Payback have each brought their wives and Natasha her girlfriend as well. You suppose you're expected to mingle with them, maybe shed a tear or two over the shared bond that your partners are going across the country, but you can't really find a way to connect with them so you kind of just avoid them altogether. You do feel bad, sitting there without a care in the world while they all try to offer comfort and reassurance to each other. But you don't really know what else to do because it's not like you're exactly sad.

Thankfully Javy, or as he's known, Coyote, stands up and raises his near empty bottle of beer in the air and saves you from anymore uncomfortable sitting. "I'd like to make a toast! To the newlyweds!" You spoke too soon. The table cheers and raises their bottles in response, all of the attention turning to where you and Jake are sitting. Cheeks immediately flushing, you have to refrain from sinking down in your seat. Jake is grinning, accepting the few rough pats on the back that he receives from Rooster beside him.

And just when you think that's the worst it's going to get, it gets worse.

"Kiss!"

You're not sure who starts it, but like teenage boys, the entire squad parrots in unison.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

At first Jake just laughs and shakes his head good naturedly, shrugging off the insistent urging of his friends, and you think that's going to be the end of it. But the chanting doesn't stop and finally Jake turns towards you. Your face is probably red hot and undeniably panicked. Heart racing, you try to read him in the half second that you're given as he leans and wraps his arm around you. Is he going to kiss you? Are you supposed to kiss him?

Neither option happens. Jake's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side and at the last moment, he turns to press a kiss to your cheek. A series of disappointed boos follow but they are drowned out by clapping for the most part. He's uncomfortably close, closer than you ever would have liked to be to Jake Seresin, but you have to remind yourself that it's all for show. When Jake does turn away, you can still feel the warmth of his lips smeared against your cheek. Even so, he hasn't let go of you pressed into his side. 

Your heart still racing, you reason with yourself that if Jake can play the part, you might as well too, and under that pretense, allow yourself to hide your face into his shoulder to conceal it's redness. The smell of his cologne washes over you, and oddly enough, you don't hate it. It's subtle, with a hit of what might be amber, and nothing like the overwhelmingly masculine scent that you would have pegged him for. 

If Jake finds your sudden willingness to touch him strange, he doesn't comment on it, likely assuming that you're just trying to make this thing between the two of you seem real. You somewhat reluctantly pull away when Coyote's voice raises again.

"And here's to shooting down some fucking MiGs!"

Again, the table erupts into a chorus of cheering and hollering. You still, allowing Jake to fully pull away from your side while the proclamation rings out in your head. It's a very grounding moment, and suddenly you feel very alone sitting at the table. No one seems to have noticed your shift in mood. Maybe you're the only one put off by Javy's statement because this is their reality. There are people who are not coming home from this mission; everyone just likes to assume it won't be them. You know better.

You can't help it, the words just come out of your mouth. "That's a fucked up thing to say."

It's the first time you've really spoken up the entire night and all heads turn towards you. Based on the look in Jake's eyes, which is a bit apprehensive, as if he knows this is headed nowhere good, you realize you probably should have just kept your mouth shut.

Payback shifts uncomfortably in his chair while the rest of the crew glances around the table wearing varying states of confusion. Their gazes shift from you to Jake, as if waiting for some sort of explanation. 

Coyote is the first to break the silence. "Look, sweetheart, that's just the way things are. Here in the Navy, that's a badge of honor. Your boy Hangman here is the only one of us with a confirmed air-to-air kill."

"(Y/n)—", Jake attempts to interject, but you're not about to let him explain himself to you in front of all these people.

You set your jaw and swallow back the anger threatening to rise up in your throat. "Yeah, because killing people is so honorable."

Coyote scoffs. "We're just doing our jobs. And if that means taking down a few planes while we're at it, so be it."

"Your job is to protect people," you snap. "There are people out there who have families—"

"Alright, that's enough—" Jake begins to interject for the second time, but this time it's Coyote who interrupts him.

"Come on, man. You're really going to let her say that kinda shit—"

You stand up. "I don't need his permission to—"

"I SAID ENOUGH." This time it's startling enough to cut both of you off. "(Y/n), what is your fucking problem?" Jake snaps.

You flinch at the harshness of his question.

Your eyes travel around the quiet table, where everyone is holding their breath, and then back to Jake. His green eyes reflect a type of pissed off what would be terrifying if you weren't so angry yourself.

A small, logical part of you knows that he has a right to be angry. You've picked a fight for no apparent reason in front of his friends and he hasn't the slightest clue why. It's not his fault your brothers are dead and you blame the Navy for it.

Regardless, that doesn't make up for the fact that you're pissed off by his defense of what Coyote has said. Even though you probably owe him an explanation, you're not about to answer him when he's just yelled at you. You also know that if you don't say something, he's going to and you'd rather die before letting him tell you off in front of all these people. You abruptly push away from the table and storm off for the bar top. You can hear Jake chasing after you.

"(Y/n)."

You ignore him in favor of heading towards the back door of the Hard Deck, pushing past people regardless of whether they're in your way or not. Being slightly more considerate, you can hear Jake moving much slower as he excuses himself through the crowd.

"(Y/n)—"

You come to a stop once you reach the door, spinning on your heels with a fire in your eyes.

"What's my problem?!"

Behind you, you can hear the loud jesting and jeering of his friends back at the table. They're still ruffled with excitement from your outburst, and Coyote's voice follows your retreating back. "Jesus man, get your girl under control."

I'm not his girl, you want to snap. He doesn't own me.

Jake has stopped a few feet away from you. 

"What's my fucking problem?! My problem is that your friends are sitting over there calling murder honor."

Jake sighs harshly though his nose. Shaking his head, green eyes looking up, he begins, "He didn't mean—"

"No. I know what he meant, Jake. You're all a bunch of cowards. You're all too goddamn scared to admit that maybe you're not doing as much good as you thought over there, and so you just justify it by saying all killing is good killing, right?" you spit.

His vibrant green eyes harden but he doesn't respond. "That's some real goddamn honor, right, Jake?" you repeat, angrier this time, wanting more than just some watered down reaction from him. If there's one thing that pisses you off about Jake, it's that you've never gotten anything more than what he's conditioned himself to respond with. It's like he's locked up in this stupid box of his and the most you can ever get out of him is a glance. You want him to be angry with you.

"That's enough." His jaw is tight, and you can tell that even despite his lowered voice and rather subdued demeanor, you've hit a nerve.

"Admit it. Admit that you—“

"(Y/n)." His voice adopts a seriousness that you've never heard from him before. It sounds almost dangerous.

Jake steps towards you and for a moment you think you've won. And then in the moment following that, you actually think that he's going to get physically angry with you. Your heart stalls. Jake's a big guy, a naval aviator, and no matter how good he sells himself to be, he could hurt you if he wanted too. You would never have pegged him as someone who would put his hands on a girl, even after only knowing him for a week, but a man is a man, perfectly ironed uniform or not.

Only he doesn't. Instead he steps into your space and leans in closer than you've  ever been before. His hand presses into your back, firmly pulling you into his chest so that you have no choice but to shift closer to him, your bodies molding together. "I said that's enough. They can see us arguing."

The press of his mouth to your ear conceals the exchange of your conversation from the listening table. You can smell his cologne on the starched collar of his uniform.

"I don't care if they see us—" Pushing your palm into his chest, you try to reestablish the distance between you, but like a brick wall, Jake doesn't budge.

"You realize that we have to make this look real?" he hisses. "From here on out, they're watching everything we do. The government is watching everything we do. Do you understood that?" His voice is tense, and it sounds more urgent than angry now.

Standing there, you realize his heart is thumping heavily beneath your palm. His body is uncomfortably rigid, like a scared dog waiting for its owner to show up and see the mess he's made. Behind you, the table has gone relatively quite. Rooster murmurs something along the lines of, "It's a little early for there to be trouble in paradise already."

Someone—Coyote—responds, "I don't think he thought this through, man. They won't last two weeks."

Jake's eyes meet yours, and you know he can hear them too. You swallow, trying to relax a little in his grasp. He's right, you have to make this look real, and fighting right off the bat doesn't exactly look good.

"Are they still looking at us?" You finally ask, leery now to even speak too loud.

Jake breathes a sigh of relief beside your ear, taking your sudden quiet as cooperation. "Yeah, just keep talking, okay? Act like we're working it out."

Despite trying to appear more comfortable than you are, you don't move your hand from his chest. The coarse material of his dress whites rises and falls steadily beneath your palm. It's calming in a sense, and you try to focus on its rhythm rather than the fact that you're so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth beside your ear.

"Still looking?" You ask after a few moments pass.

He hums. "Yep."

"Well then what do we do? We can't just stand like this forever." The longer you stand together, the more details you become aware of. Like the fact that his face is freshly shaven against your cheek and that he must have brushed his teeth before this because his breath smells like Listerine.

"Look at me."

"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing as he pulls away. His hand that had been holding your waist firmly in place lifts to grip your jaw.

"You're going to have to kiss me," he explains, glancing briefly over your shoulder.

"What?" Before you can even protest, he's leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Without the time to process what exactly is happening given your state of alarm, all you can do is go along with it. His lips mold against yours in what might be the most borderline tame kiss you've ever had. Despite this, you are reluctantly surprised to note how good of a kisser he is. It's just forceful enough to let you know he's in control but not so much that it's unpleasant. His lips are full and taste vaguely of his mouth wash.

You don't kiss him back.

It makes no difference to the group behind you whether you actually kiss or not; they can't tell from this distance and all they have to do is believe it happened. It's more for your own self preservation than anything. It's one thing to play the part, it's another thing to get caught up in it and catch feelings. And with Jake Seresin, that was a dangerous game to play. You'd already felt it, him prying his way under your skin when he'd held you at the table and the smell of his cologne filled your sense. It would be that easy.

To his credit, Jake lingers just long enough to make the kiss believable before pulling away. Even si, it still feels uncomfortably long. He leans back and you don't miss the fact that he wipes his hand across his mouth. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath, looking away.

"Jake..." you begin, immediately feeling bad, but he stops you.

"Whatever, (Y/n). It's fine." He won't look you in the eyes now. You turn to look over your shoulder, desperate to get yourself out of this increasingly bad situation .

"They're not looking," you say, finding the table now amicably chatting with each other rather than focused on the two of you. The sudden PDA must have finally diverted their attention. "...you can step away now."

"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. Jake drops his hand from your waist and steps back like he's glad to finally put some distance between the two of you. So much for making this look natural.

You return to the table shortly after, in hand to make it appear as if you've made up and smiling tightly when Bob cheerily welcomes you back to break the awkward silence. Once seated, you drop each other's hand beneath the table immediately. The rest of the evening is spent avoiding contributing to conversations that involve the other. If anyone notices, they don't comment on the fact that the two of you hardly look at each other for the rest of the evening, and somehow you manage to put up an otherwise happily married front.

When a few of the guys finally get a little bit too drunk, specifically Rooster, you're all too happy when Natasha calls it a night. Because they ship out the next day, Jake drives you back to the hotel where all of the married couples have rented out a room for the night. Apparently it's a tradition or something. You make the drive in silence. You let him check into the room and carry both of your bags up, disappearing into the small bathroom to splash cool water onto your face. It helps to ease some of the tension from this evening. Leaning over the sink, you watch the water swirl down the drain.

Is this crazy? This is crazy, right?

Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands when you step out. He's taken off his hat and suddenly he seems a lot more fragile than he was a few minutes ago. There's a softness to him, something having been previously concealed by the precise styling of his hair and tense pull of his set jaw. Before you can break the silence, he sucks in an uneasy breath.

"Hey, we need to talk about something. Um, you know... in case I..."

In case he doesn't come back.

You swallow, looking down at the ground. After tonight, after he's kissed you, all of this is starting to feel a little bit to real. What the hell happened to pretending? This was all supposed to be pretend. "Jake, please don't do that—"

He stands up from the end of the bed, and you notice the folded paper in his hands. "This is all of my personal information, you know, bank accounts, passwords, phone numbers... Anything you might need if something happens to me." He says it all as if it's so normal, but you can hear the apprehension in the thinness of his voice.

Already, you're shaking your head as he hands you the letter. "Jake, please. I don't want that." Your heart is pounding and all you want to do in the moment is go back in time and never have agreed to do this in the first place. This was insane. What were you thinking? Like you were going to put yourself through this again? 

"(Y/n)—“ Jake tries, interrupting your spiral of thoughts.

"I said NO, Jake," you snap, stepping back from him and the letter. There are tears burning at the backs of your eyes, like you might burst into a hit of hysteria at any moment. "I change my mind. I can't do this..."

Jake's eyes glance from you to the paper in his hand and then back to you, and then he drops his outstretched arm with what sounds like a laugh. "Right. Not like we're fuckin' married or anything." He releases a puff of air from his cheeks and runs his hand through his hair like he's contemplating pulling it out. "Do you know how screwed we are if anyone finds out about this? Do you, (Y/n)??" he asks, his voice rising to a concerning level. "We're done!" 

"Jake, I—"

He tosses the letter onto the bed and sits back down with a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. When he finally speaks again, his voice had lowered to a more acceptable volume. "It's a bit too late for you to back out now. If the Navy finds out about this— if anyone one finds out about this, I could lose my job. We could both go to jail."

Silence settles over the two of you as Jake sits on the bed, staring at his feet, and you stand there in the middle of the room, willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here before your heart implodes. You turn and grab your coat from by the door.

"Where are you going?"  Jake asks, his voice tired and annoyed.

"I need some air," you say, shrugging on your coat and opening the door. He doesn't try to stop you on the way out. 

You regret the decision the second that you walk out the door. Now that the sun is gone, it's freezing outside. Your original plan had been to go for a walk to clear your head but you doubt now you'd make it very far. Walking down the stairs and out into the nearly empty parking lot, you look around, considering whether or not you would survive the trek to a gas station. When you realize you've left your phone back in the room, you decide against it. You aren't dumb enough to walk in the dark alone. Instead you head towards Jake's truck, which is parked out by itself at the end of the lot. To your surprise, you find it's unlocked and the door swings open when you tug on the handle. You climb in and the switch to lock the door behind you. Even the inside of the car is cold but at least it's out of the wind. You hug your knees into your check and tuck your chin into them, curling up in the driver's seat to keep warm.

And then you just sob.

It's the kind of sobbing that starts long and drawn out and then escalates into the rapid breathing that happens when you can't get enough air into your lungs and it feels as though there's an entire golf ball stuck in your throat. You haven't cried this hard since you were a kid—since your first brother died. You didn't cry the second time, didn't allow yourself to feel anything the second time because you knew there wasn't going to be anyone to pull you back together if you did. 

At least being away from all of this had allowed you some time to forget, even if for just a moment, that they were gone without having to be constantly reminded. You had moved to put as much distance between yourself and the Navy as possible. Because that way life wouldn't get the chance to take another person from you in the same way. Looking at the ring on your finger now, that's exactly the opposite of what you had just done. This was just supposed to be until you could get back on your feet, and if it helped Jake out in the process then great. Now that you think about it, it was stupid of you to think that you would be able to make it through this with out catching feelings for him. 

Now you're going to lose him too.

You cry until you almost make yourself sick and then some more. Your sobbing is interrupted every few minutes when you choke on your own air and have to swallow the golf ball that is lodged in your throat so that you can breathe. You're not sure how long you sit there just crying. Surely at least an hour has passed. By the time your sobbing has slowed, your head hurts and your chest aches enough to be sore.

Knock knock knock

You jump at the noise, head shooting up from between the bracket of your knees. It's dark outside, the parking lot just barley lit in a wash of grey by the moon. Even so, you can make out Jake's broad figure in the darkness.

"Open the damn door." His order comes out in a puff of frosty condensation that warms a spot on the window, his voice only partially muffled by the barrier. His shoulders are hunched against the cold, the upturned collar of his coat doing little to protect him from the brutal conditions.

For a while you just stare at him through the window, swallowing back the spit in your throat.

"Open the door," he repeats, knowing better than to think that you can't hear him. If only locking yourself in his car was the solution of all of your problems. Reluctantly, you reach over and click the lock, slowly rolling down the window.

After it stops, you stare at each other through the open car window, separated only by the frame of door that he could now easily reach out and open. His soft brown hair is mushed and in disarray, nose and cheeks tinted pink form the chill. The pleasant green of his eyes is mostly hidden as he squints against the wind.

Finally, you suck in a breathe, your chest shuddering. "I cannot do this," you stress, all of the fear that you've been shoving down now presenting itself in a singular sentence.

Jake sighs, his face softening to reflect a look of sympathy. "Look, I promise you, it's not that bad. You'll come with me to the carrier when I ship out tomorrow, we'll hug each other goodbye, and then you won't even have to see me for a couple of months. It'll be like none of this ever happened. And when I come back... we'll figure it out. Okay?" His voice is soft and understanding, like he's talking to a child.

You stare at the dashboard, your stomach still churning anxiously. "That's not what I'm... It's not you, Jake." Quite the opposite. "I lost my brothers to the Navy. Both of them. And I don't think I can take losing anyone else."

Immediately Jake's face falls as he puts everything into place. Your initial distaste for him, your furious outburst at Hard Deck, your reluctance to have have anything to do with the Navy... "I—God, I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I had no idea."

You shrug, calming down now that you've finally let go over everything that you've been holding in. "I asked Natasha not to tell you. I just thought that I could get over it so what was the point in even telling you?"

The wind blowing into through the open window is bone chilling and so you can only imagine how cold Jake is standing outside the car. For a while there's only the sound of his quiet breathing.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, (Y/n)," he says into the darkness.

"How can you be so sure?"

Hands shoved into his pockets, body braced against the wind, he shrugs. "I'm not. But if I didn't tell myself that every morning, I'd never get out of bed."

Sighing, you pull the handle on the inside of the door. "C'mon, it's fucking cold out there."

Jake huffs as if to say, you're telling me, and grabs the handle to pull open the door. Only instead of climbing in, he steps further inside the door and grabs your head in his cold hands so that your faces are mere inches apart. "I mean it, kid. I'm not going to leave you, alright? You just gotta trust me."

Looking into his eyes, you know he means it. For the second time since you've known Jake, you really see him. Standing before you is the same man that you saw in both of your brothers. Granted, they were much younger than he is now, but you get it. You'd been trying to see him as anyone else other than the brothers you lost, praying that it would hurt less, but you can't make someone into something they're not. 

"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you, Jake."

You're awake hours earlier than what you're used to in the morning, but that's only because you had glanced at the alarm clock at half past three and realized that you only had few hours left with Jake. The both of you had returned to the hotel room and changed in comfortable silence, slipping into the single bed together without a word. Jake had reached over and pulled you into him without so much as a second thought. Now his body is draped heavily on top of yours, his nose tucked into your hair as your fingers trace along the bare skin of his exposed back. 

You switch between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on the alarm clock, trying to think about anything other than the fact that Jake would wake up in about an hour, you'd drop him off at the carrier at six, and that would be it. You'd only just gotten him and now you were going to have to let him go.

When Jake's alarm does go off, you're more emotional than you thought you would be, but Jake seems to be fine, dutifully putting on his uniform and carefully packing all of his bags, so you try to put on a brave face. You move slowly, dragging out the process of getting dressed as long as possible just so that there's no excuse to leave for the dock any sooner than you have too. After you're done getting ready, you watch him shave once and then again for good measure before he ultimately decides that you've both wasted enough time putting off the inevitable.

The drive there is silent as well and would have been unbearable had Jake not reached over the consol to reassuringly squeeze your hand. He doesn't let go of it until you pull into the crowded port. Between people trying to get their things on board and a bunch of teary goodbyes, it's beyond you how you manage to find the Dagger Squad in the midst of the chaos. Fanboy and Payback are saying goodbye to their families while Rooster and Natasha chatter excitedly with an older man also dressed in naval attire, the name plate on his uniform identify him as 'Maverick'. It's all so overwhelming that only when Jake squeezes your hand again do you realize that it's time for you to say goodbye.

Reluctantly, you turn towards him, interlocked hands swinging between the two of you. He does his best to smile, and to his credit, it's not entirely fake. "Well," he sighs. "This it it."

"For now," you add, returning his soft smile as you look up at him.

"For now," Jake agrees, his smile brightening now that you seem to be okay also. He pauses, just staring down at you for a moment before he adds, "Are you going to let me kiss you?"

You smile, answering him this time without hesitation. "Only if you keep your promise."

Jake's large hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling your chin in his palm as he leans down to you. "I promise," he murmurs before pressing his mouth to yours, perhaps even more tender than he did the first time at Hard Deck. Only this time you reciprocate it, chasing his mouth as you lift up on your toes and run your fingers through the back of his hair. Groaning, Jake sighs into the kiss. It's dizzying and you don't know how it's possible to put all of the passion that you've been holding back into one kiss, but somehow you do. His lips are soft and you have to shove down the urge to grip his hair and demand him for more, because it by some miracle occurs to you that you're on a ship in front of hundreds people. 

Jake's the one to pull away, his eyes shining and pink lips slightly more swollen than they were a minute ago. You can't help but laugh, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his mouth with your thumb. "Goodbye, Jake."

"Goodbye, (Y/n). And don't forget, I'll see you soon."

[discordantwritings]

Taken Back (Crocodile x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, fem afab! Reader (reader is referred to as girl), degradation, oral sex, facefucking, clothed sex/ dry humping, idk what the nice tag for getting off on a shoe is

WC: 1.9k

Summary: Your old boss is out of prison and back in action. You know he doesn’t like loose ends so you make a play to kill him before he can kill you. Things turn out differently than you plan.

Notes: I am not sure if this is what the requester wanted but my mind went to places that I couldn’t stop and I hope they like it!

Tagging: @keiva1000

Sword griped tight you wait for the lackey pirates to pass as you sneak further into Karai Bari island. Sir Crocodile’s wanted poster weighs heavy in your pocket as you mentally run through your plan once again.

Get into his office. Kill him or die in the process. Finally be free one way or the other.

Shitty plan, but it’s the best you’ve got.

Ever since you heard the news that Crocodile had escaped from Impel Down you knew you had to do this. You knew he didn’t like loose ends. You knew him well, he was your old boss after all.

For years you had worked for Baroque Works, a special agent directly under Sir Crocodile’s rule. You would go so far to say you had a decent relationship with him, as decent a relationship as Crocodile could have. You appreciated his efficiency and ruthlessness and he appreciated your obedience and skill.

You were a spy, often away from Alabasta for months at a time, and you had been away when the Straw Hat Pirates had turned the country upside down. When you got back there was nothing left for you, so you had to rebuild your life. It wasn’t easy- but your skills were more than enough to keep you above water.

But then Crocodile broke out.

It was like a knife was hanging over your head held by only a fraying thread. In every dark alley you expect to see him or one of your old coworkers, every night you shove a chair underneath the doorknob so no one can sneak in. Living in fear wasn’t much of a life. So when you caught wind of your old boss’ new hideout you stole yourself a ship and started sailing.

Now you’re here, sneaking through carnival surplus and dodging the gaze of pirate clowns. You’re not sure how exactly Sir Crocodile got in business with Buggy the Clown but you can’t really spare that much thought to that right now. It’s just a fitting backdrop for your quickly declining mental state.

You navigate carefully according to the (thankfully sound) information you bartered for and avoid being spotted as you come up on the door to Sir Crocodile’s office. Instinctually you know it’s his- painted in that signature dark green he loves so much. Sword in one hand, short dagger in the other you seep your haki into the blades. Pitch black weapons ready, you shove open the door and prepare to attack.

Sir Crocodile looks exactly the same. You figured maybe prison would have done some damage to him, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was still the same broad, imposing, terrifying man.

A man who was standing in front of his desk facing the door. A man who knew you were coming.

You falter in the door way as he smirks at you. All the adrenaline you were running off of evaporates in an instant as you’re faced with the cruel fact you’d be outsmarted.

You really should have known better.

“It’s been a while.” Sir Crocodile says, absentmindedly polishing his golden hook with a cloth.

“It has.” Is the best response you can come up with.

“You were really thinking of killing me? I really thought you were smarter than that.” The slight disappointment in his voice hurts more than the fact he’s going to kill you.

“I didn’t want to wait around to be killed.” You turn the dagger over in your hand, fighting to keep your willpower strong enough to empower the blade.

“Fair enough.” You feel his eyes slide over your form and you fight not to shrink away. “But what makes you think I want you dead?”

“What?” That wasn’t a question you were ready for.

“I don’t think I stuttered.”

“No- I-“ Your stance shifted, letting your guard down slightly. “I’m a loose end. You don’t like loose ends.”

Silence hangs in the air as he seems to contemplate that answer. “That is true. But why did you never think I’d want you working for me again?”

…

Admittedly, that thought never crossed your mind. You were caught up in the countless ruthless slaughters you had seen at his hand and hook. Never did you think that you could come back, that there was room for you to come back.

And now you’ve probably destroyed that chance.

“I clearly had a lapse in judgement.”

“Clearly.” Sir Crocodile pushes himself off his desk and walks over to you and you drop your now useless blades to your side, willpower having run out long ago. “If it wasn’t me this whole gambit probably would have worked. It was good to know you still had all your connections and skills. And no one noticed you sneaking around.”

“You did teach me well.” You admit as he stalks over to you.

“That’s why I’m not going to kill you.” Crocodile is standing only a foot from you now, grey eyes bearing down on you. “I’m going to take you back.”

A confusing rush of emotions swirl in your head as you process the fact that you’re not actually going to die and actually just got your job back. “Thank you sir.”

“You will have to work very, very hard to make up for this though. You did think about killing me.” He saunters back over to his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Of course.” Of course you would never expect things to just go back to the way they were.

“Double shifts, and of course every bit of information you gained while I was away.”

“I will compile all that information for you.”

“And I expect you to come up with some other ways to get back on my good side. You’ve always been creative.”

He wasn’t implying anything. But the crazy cocktail of emotions, adrenaline, and honestly the way your mind was always a bit in the gutter had you thinking about less conventional ways to get back on his good side. There had never been anything between you two but you can’t deny that you’ve thought about it- I mean who could blame you? He was strong, commanding, and incredibly handsome. And, while you didn’t want to get overly full of yourself, you swear you’d occasionally feel his gaze on you when you weren’t looking.

If you were wrong your head might go back on the chopping block but if you were right then you’d get back in his good graces pretty damn fast.

Worth a shot.

You walked over to his desk, one hand trailing on the dark wood as you walk behind it. “I was wondering, sir, if there was anything I could do for you right now?”

He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, studying you before answering. “Depends. What are you thinking?”

Of course he was going to make you say it. You can see in his eyes that he knows what you’re implying. He’s playing with you.

You choose not to say anything else, simply letting your knees hit the ground in front of his slightly parted legs. You don’t move after that, choosing to fold your hands in your lap while you wait for him to give you an order.

“Oh well look at this. Seems you are smart.” He shifts in his seat, legs spreading wider. “C’mere.”

You shuffle closer to him, hands quickly finding his belt. You swear you hear him chuckle but you’re too preoccupied with the large bulge growing in his pants as you unzip them. Reaching under his boxers you pull out his half hard length and your mouth waters.

He’s thick- so much so that you know it’ll be a challenge to wrap your mouth around him. But that fact only spurs you on further as you nuzzle up to his base and press sloppy kisses against it. You feel him harden under you and you flatten your tongue and lick a long stripe up from his base to the tip.

“Stop teasing.” His fingers thread through your hair, gripping hard as he pushes your head closer in warning.

You don’t need to be told twice. Taking his tip into your mouth you swirl your tongue around it a few times before slowly taking him further into your mouth. Crocodile groans in appreciation as you sink down, his cock slipping down into your throat until your nose brushes against his pelvis.

“If I’d of known you were so good on your knees I would have hunted you down the second I got out.” His grip pulls you back ever so slightly just so he can shove you back down again. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

It’s thrilling to let yourself be used like this, the drag of his cock in your throat foreign yet intoxicating. You’re already soaked, shifting unconsciously to try and get some friction to relieve the quickly growing ache. Of course Crocodile notices.

“Are you such a whore that you’re getting off on this?” Your eyes flick up and you see him grinning down at you. “Spread your legs.”

You’re confused but you do as he asks, knees going wide and holding onto his thighs for support. It isn’t until you feel the tip of his expensive shoe between your thighs that it all clicks. You grind down on the hard surface and moan around Crocodile’s cock.

“That’s it.” Crocodile mumbles appreciatively above you.

You let him continue to use you, filthy wet noises filling the room as spit drips down your chin and onto his lap. When he’s controlling your head it’s easy to focus your effort on grinding yourself against his shoe. It’s humiliating, degrading, disgusting, and you love it. Your head swims with lust, captured in the feeling of his cock throbbing in your throat.

You know he’s close when his grip tightens on your hair and his hips buck up every time he shoves your face down. If that wasn’t enough signs, his mouth gets looser, filthy words spilling out.

“Fuck you’re too good at this- tight little throat was made for my cock, huh? It’s like you were meant to take me-“ The pulling of your hair brings tears to your eyes, just on the verge of spilling over. “You’re going to swallow what I give you- take my fucking load-“

You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you do your best to swallow as you’re still held down. You can only swallow so much before you feel him dripping out the side of your mouth and down your chin. Finally he pulls you off and you gasp for air, face still held up for Crocodile to see. His hook comes up to your face and collects the spit and cum on your chin. He presses the cold metal up to your mouth and you lick it up without a thought, earning a groan from Crocodile.

“Such a good girl.” You’re rewarded with him pressing his shoe up to your clit. “Be a good little whore and get off on my shoe.”

It doesn’t take long now that he’s helping, forced to look in his eyes as you moan and shudder, coming undone in a way you never thought you could. As you come down he lets you go and your head falls down to his lap, head light from your orgasm.

“You have certainly proven yourself.” You feel the hook lightly brush through your hair. “And now I’ll never let you go.”

[markrosewater]

Hey Mark, I just wanted to say you've always seemed like a really cool guy. I've played magic for over 4/5ths of my life, since the early 2000s when I was only five years old, I even met most of my long time friends through it. But I think I finally feel alienated enough by it to drop it entirely.

I always enjoyed every aspect of this game, from the deckbuilding, to the flavor, to the color pie and the possibilities it presented. I loved the fantasy of it, of planeswalkers and wizards, dragons and castles.

Universes Beyond really was the end of it, all the way back then. When i heard the announcements I was terrified, I knew where it would lead even then. I loved the world of Magic, and it feels silly to say about a card game but I truly felt immersed in the world when I played, even with the different planes, everything cohered to an internal set of rules that seemed unbreakable.

For a while I continued, our local scene created a variant format that banned Universes Beyond cards so I was able to ignore them, but then came Neon Dynasty. It felt strange to me, like it was breaking what I had come to expect out of the game. Most people disagreed, said it was still Magic enough, but I wondered just how far it would be pushed before Magic lost any identity of its own, anything that separated it from Fortnite or any other crossover soup known entirely for the things it borrows rather than the things it is.

When I saw the first spoilers for Duskmourn, I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back. When I play at the table with my friends, I enjoy the fact that all the cards feel like part of one larger universe. And when I see cards with televisions and smartphones in them, with modern clothing and internet references, I just can't fit them together in my mind. It seems like a cool world, much like a lot of the crossovers are cool worlds, but I play Magic for well... Magic. If I wanted to play Fallout or Warhammer 40k, or watch Insidious or Walking Dead, then I would. But when I play Magic, I want to see magic.

And it's canon, just as canon as Innistrad or Alara. We can't excise it like we can Universes Beyond, and if we can't, then what's even the point of trying to "protect the tone" with those bans? What tone are we protecting, that's already been shattered from within?

More and more it feels like the game just isn't for me, doesn't want the kind of player that feels strongly about cohesion and immersion. And that's fine, it doesn't have to cater to me, and the current approach seems to bring in more people than it drives away. But it still just makes me sad, on a deep personal level, to give up on what has been such a major part of my life.

In all likelihood, I'm an outlier, and you could easily say that Magic getting even broader in what it covers is only a positive thing. Take my critiques only as the lamentations of a single person. But when you can put anything in a piece of media, when there's no unifying idea of what is and isn't possible, then it just starts to feel meaningless.

I'm sorry, I know you'll probably never read this, I mostly just needed to get it off my chest- and you're the closest thing to a human face Magic the Gathering has. Thank you for all the work you've put into it over the years, and I'm sorry that I can't enjoy it anymore.

Thanks for writing. From a big picture, Magic excels at creating variety and does poorly at consistency. The core idea of a trading card game is we make lots and lots of pieces you can play with and then you, the player, customize your game as you see fit. History has shown us, the wider we spread the potential of what Magic can be, the more people find something they enjoy and are attracted to the game.

Think of it this way. Each player has a different sense of what Magic is to them. There's no cutoff point where we make the majority of players happy. In fact, for many players, it's the ever-expanding quality to the game that they enjoy most.

This does mean though that we might make choices that don't connect with what you personally enjoy, and I respect that. If Magic isn't providing what you want out of it, that's okay. My only recommendation is don't get rid of your cards. Many Magic players rotate in and out of the game, and the number one complaint I hear from players who rotate back in is them having gotten rid of everything when they rotated out.

Magic might not be what you need right now, but maybe a few years from now you've changed in ways which makes it something you will enjoy. Or maybe Magic will evolve in a way that speaks to you. The only constant I know is you and Magic will both change. Just leave yourself the possibility of reconnecting.

Thanks for playing all these years, and I hope to see you again.

[bananntoo]

getting jealous

sanji x reader

sanji is constantly swooning over other women, leaving his girlfriend forgotten

dating sanji was amazing- constant compliments, never going hungry, having you’re own little maid do everything for you, but it came with a constant worry of other women. you weren’t insecure about yourself in any way, but the fact that sanji swooned over every girl he saw hurt a little. you knew he couldn’t help it and that he loved you more than any woman, but it still hurt.

it was the party at water7 to celebrate the straw hats return from ennies lobby. you had wanted to enjoy the party with your boyfriend but he told you he was busy with the kitchen and for you to enjoy your own time. that was until half a hour later you saw him practically drooling over a group of girls not leaving their sides. was he serious? he had turned you down- HIS GIRLFRIEND- to hang out with a group of women he didn’t even know? you were so done. not even having the urge to party anymore you left and decided to stroll around the empty town.

the walk was a lot. you tried thinking of anything and everything to get your mind off of sanji, but nothing worked. you felt stupid. did you really think he wouldn’t left your side the second he saw another girl?

-

sanji had noticed your absence from the party now. he walked over to nami asking if she had seen her. she told him you had left and went on a stroll through the town.

why would she leave? is she okay? it’s dangerous for such a pretty lady to be walking alone at night! she should’ve asked me to come with her. his angry thoughts soon turned into happy ones once he saw your figure in-front of him. your back was turned as you were still walking away from him, not yet noticing his presence.

“Y/N-SWANNN” you heard him rushing towards you.

“i missed you so much! i was wondering where you were-“ he had stopped when he heard your stuttered breathing. you thought you were doing fine. you thought you could hold it in, but you were wrong. the second you heard his voice you broke down. did he really not know what was wrong?

“y/n are you okay?” that hurt. suddenly instead of just stuttered breaths it all came rushing out. tears were flowing almost so hard you couldn’t breathe. he was still facing your back. you didn’t want him to see you like this. so defenseless and weak. your legs couldn’t support you anymore so you dropped to the ground, curled up in a ball, with your head in your knees, arms wrapped around your head.

sanji didn’t know what to do. should he support you? should he leave you alone? should he apologize? he didn’t even know what was wrong.

you couldn’t blame him. he was a gentleman. telling him to stop would be like changing the thing you loved most about him. you just had to get over it and dust yourself off. but why was it so hard?

sanji had come to your front now, trying to pry your hand away from your face in order to console you but you held your grip.

“please leave me alone sanji” you had said through broken breaths.

“you know i cannot” he replied. with his worried voice you felt even worse. instead of dealing with your emotions alone, you had now worried sanji. this was the one thing you didn’t want.

a/n : slight scrap. its been sitting in my drafts for a while and i don’t know how to continue it. pls lmk if there’s anything you want me to add

[dreamingofmarauders]

Heart of Stone

Sirius Black x GN!Reader

Summary: After repeatedly feeling disappointment from supposed friends, the last straw is when your heart shatters after the love of your life turns you away like everyone else, so you decide to harden your heart so much that nothing can ever hurt you again. Fourteen years later, the same man enters your life once again.

Warnings: Fake friends, feeling unloved, heart break, loneliness, mentions of death, crying, cussing, angst, a hint of fluff

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This one is a bit of a longer piece, I just recently finished it and I really loved this idea and I think it turned out not too bad. I tried to keep it GN!Reader but if it does not seem to be at any point, please let me know! Apologies if there are errors/typos, I tried my best to catch them. If you enjoy it don't forget to give it a like! A reblog would be appreciated as well :)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You sighed, eyes flitting between your friends, or that's what they said they were to you anyway. You, however, felt otherwise. Sure these people were in your year, half of them your dorm mates, but when they made plans without you, forgot you were there during conversations, you would feel your heart clench and feel otherwise.

You had known love from dear ones once, when you were young. But, fate had been too cruel to you and snatched your parents away from you just as you had entered Hogwarts. It had taken a huge toll on you, realizing your parents were gone forever. Sure, you had moved in with your uncle and aunt and their kids, but having already been distant from them, it affected the amount of love you received from them.

It took you some time but you were able to make friends slowly after you were able to accept the fact your parents weren't coming back. The years progressed and while you had initially loved your friends, now you felt more a tag along than anything. They barely acknowledged you and would only notice your presence if you suddenly spoke up.

You were tired of it and soon broke ties with them. However you were unaware at the time, but someone entirely different would enter your life and change everything for you.

That someone was Sirius Black.

You weren't even sure how it had begun but suddenly one day the Gryffindor began to ask you out, and continued to do so until you finally said yes some months later as you both neared the end of your sixth year.

And that was the best decision you had made.

You were beyond happy with Sirius and you couldn't imagine your life without him.

You were madly in love with Sirius Black.

Your life was looking all good.

Until now.

"What?" You breathed out in disbelief as you stared at the man in front of you.

It was a late autumn evening in 1981, and Sirius was over at yours. The two of you had yet to move in to a place together since Sirius stilled lived with his best mate, Remus, and since Remus struggled financially, sharing a flat the two best friends could pay for it together, which you and Sirius both understood how much easier it would make things for Remus.

It was always a joyous and lovely time whenever Sirius came over to your place, except now, you felt your whole world crashing down.

"You heard me the first time." He grunted out, "I want to break up."

Your lip wobbled as tears began to cascade down your cheeks.

"Why?" You whispered out, the heartache reflected in your voice.

Sirius looked at you with cold eyes, "Why? Because you're worthless and you were just a time pass for me, nothing more, I'm tired of you."

Those words were the last straw. You heard your heart shatter into a million pieces as the sobs escaped your mouth, your body wracking with each one. For once in your life after so long, you thought things were alright, that you were happy and loved. How could you have been so blind?

"I hate you, Sirius Black." You uttered out as you felt your knees buckle out from underneath you, making you fall to the floor as you cried. "I hate you so much." You said before shakily wiping your tears away as you stood up, trying to get a grip on yourself in front of him.

"Get out." You spoke, pointing to the door, "Get out of my home and never show me your face again." You ordered, staring into those grey irises you loved so much. You saw Sirius' face flicker with a different emotion which you couldn't decipher, before his face hardened and he turned on his heels, walking away and slamming the door behind him.

As the sound echoed off the walls, you let out a sob and finally let yourself crumble entirely.

"What did I do to ever deserve this?" You cried out, pouring your heart out as you let the tears flow.

Although after that day, you vowed to never let anyone hurt you again and to never shed a tear again.

So as James and Lily died and Sirius was sent to jail for their murder, you did not cry, and as Remus disappeared without a trace, you did not cry.

You had died the day Sirius had broken up with you, as each of his words had pierced your heart like a dagger. Now, all you had was a stone for a heart.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Many, many years after the end of the First Wizarding War, you stood once again in a similar situation. Voldemort had come back but everyone refused to believe James and Lily’s son, Harry Potter. So Dumbledore took matters into his own hands.

The Order of the Phoenix was back in business.

You sauntered in, causing all heads to turn and some to even gasp in surprise. After all, you had worked hard and become one of the top Aurors of the department.

“Glad to see you have finally arrived, Y/n.” Dumbledore said to you before turning to the whole room, “This here is Y/n L/n for those of you who may not know, and they will henceforth be joining us from today.”

Murmurs and nods of agreement filled the dining room before you were gestured to a seat by Dumbledore. You swiftly placed yourself on a chair, turning your full attention to the Hogwarts Headmaster. Although you of course felt that prickling at the back of your neck, the sensation of being watched.

You knew who it was, and you hated him. So you did the only thing reasonable.

You removed your gaze from Dumbledore to the Azkaban escapee, who watched you from the head of the table, your ex, Sirius Black, and stared him down with a coldness that sent the warm smile that erupted on his lips vanishing, making guilt flood his face.

Satisfied, you turned back to the Order Founder once again.

The meeting went on and before you knew it, your chair made a sound as it scraped against the floor when you stood up, as you headed out of the meeting room and straight for the main door of Twelve Grimmauld Place.

A hand caught onto your wrist, pausing your movement. You felt your body stiffen. Even after all these years, you still remembered his touch.

“Let go, Black, I have places to be.” You gritted out.

“Hear me out please.”

You immediately freed yourself from his grip and spun on your heels, glaring at Sirius who only watched you with a broken look. He had caused this and he had regretted it since that day and would regret his decision until his last breath. He had hurt his Y/n and turned you into this shell of a person.

“Like I said that day all those years back,” You began saying, “I don’t want to see your face.” You spat at him before turning to go, leaving Sirius stare after your retreating figure in guilt and heartache.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“He really misses you, you know?”

You looked up at the tall man beside you, your piercing gaze staring into his soul.

“It was his fault for whatever happened. He left just like you disappeared as well.” You replied making the Gryffindor’s expression turn into one of shame.

You had ran into Remus Lupin at the second Order meeting, seeing the werewolf after so many years, but like towards everyone that had hurt you, you had disregarded him.

Now as you and Remus were on your assigned mission together, the Gryffindor tried to make another attempt to get through to you.

“I’m sorry, you know that, Y/n.”

You let out a breath, “Focus, Lupin, danger could be anywhere.” You stated instead, ending the discussion altogether to which Remus shook his head in defeat, heaving a heavy sigh.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

”Y/n/n.” He said as he corner you at the stairwell. You glared up at him as he caged you against the wall.

“Move Black, before I hex you.” You gritted out, making Sirius only shake his head.

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

You groaned, letting your head fall against the wall. Sirius had been persistent in his attempts to catch you, but you always got away from him quickly. To be frank, you were tired of it.

“Fine.” You said and watched Sirius’ face light up. “But after this, you will not try to approach me ever again, got it?”

Sirius’ smile dimmed but the hope in his eyes shone just as before. “I give you my word.”

You released a breath, irritatingly, pushing the man away, gesturing for him to follow you to the room that housed a small library. You both stood by the fireplace, the light creating shadows on your faces as you stared Sirius down.

“You have only a few minutes to explain your gibberish, so start talking, Black.” You said, your arms coming to fold over your chest as you began to tap your foot impatiently.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I am truly sorry for all the pain I caused you. I deserve every bit of your hate, but you need to understand I did it to keep you safe.”

You arched an eyebrow, letting out a cold, mocking laugh, “Seriously, Black?”

Sirius nodded, “You have every reason not to trust me but believe me, I only broke up with you because I needed to make sure you were safe.” He paused, sucking in a breath as you watched with slight curiosity, “I had originally agreed to become Lily and James’ Secret Keeper, and I knew I was going to be a big target.” Sirius paused, his voice choking, “I-I couldn’t have let you get harmed due to me, y/n/n, I loved you too much. I did what seemed reasonable at the time; To push you away.”

Sirius sank down into the armchair, holding his face, “Of course, not only did I fuck up by losing you for good but I suggested Peter as Secret Keeper, and that decision cost James and Lily’s lives.” He said, staring blankly into the fire.

Sirius dared a glance up at you only to discover that you were already gazing at him. There was a different, softer, emotion in your eyes, but Sirius couldn’t decipher what it really meant. He watched you open and close your mouth a few times, before loudly clearing your throat.

“I don’t know if your story is true or not but I’m sorry about James and Lily, they didn’t deserve any of it.” You paused, swallowing, “I’m sorry about you landing in Azkaban, because you weren’t at fault for their murders, but I can't forgive you, we could have worked something out but you made the choice to push me away and it worked. I can't ever forgive you for the pain you caused me.” With that, you looked at him, shaking your head slightly before walking off, leaving Sirius to stare after you as your words echoed around in his head, his heart dropping.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

True to his word, Sirius had stopped pursuing you after that fateful day, for which you were grateful. However, you felt a rather peculiar feeling pulling your heart after that conversation, but you couldn't understand what it was and why it was bothering you.

One evening, you had been invited to a party to celebrate Ron and Hermione becoming Prefects at Grimmauld Place. You had just stepped out of the bathroom and were heading back to the dining room, when something caught your ear.

"Hey, isn't that Y/n?"

You paused, the voice seemingly coming from the room closest to you currently on the floor.

"It is." A rather familiar voice answered.

Sirius.

You quietly peeked into the room, only to find Sirius sitting, with what seemed to be a photo album laying open on his lap and Harry peeking over his shoulder.

"Wait... Are- Were you two..."

"A thing? Yeah, we were." Sirius said, his voice carrying a fondness that he had always used with you.

"But now you aren't together anymore? Why?" Harry questioned, his eyebrows furrowed as he scratched his scalp, reminding Sirius of his best friend.

"Because I messed up the best thing in my life." Sirius answered, his tone holding a somberness to it. "I thought it was best to break up with them to keep Y/n safe, but not only did I screw up there but my mistakes also cost your parents' lives, Harry."

There was a tense silence that felt suffocating to Y/n, who was listening carefully from the outside.

"Do you still love them?" Harry slowly asked, gazing at his godfather with sympathy and curiosity.

"Never stopped. Y/n's one of the reasons I was sane in Azkaban. I never stopped loving them, Harry, and I never will." Sirius answered, his eyes glossing over.

You felt your heart twist, something familiar coming up but you shook your head fiercely. You couldn't become weak.

Not again.

With an air of determination, you walked back to the party, unaware that the past was catching back up to you.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Months had passed since then, you had been on guard duty the most, guarding the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. The one day you had not been able to attend your assigned shift because you had fallen ill, Arthur Weasley had been attacked by Voldemort’s snake, Nagini. Thankfully the ginger man pulled through and was fine. Some months after that, there was no trace of the white snow as June had long arrived, bringing warmer days.

Ever since you overheard Sirius talking about you with Harry, as much as you denied it, something had shifted in your heart. At times, your mind was full of thoughts of the raven haired man, or you’d secretly glance at him, although much to your dismay Remus had caught you once and he had been teasing you endlessly, knowing your long buried feelings were surfacing once again.

It was one day you were at Twelve Grimmauld Place, in the dining room after a meeting. Only a few of you remained behind, your fellow co-workers Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nyphmadora Tonks, a good friend of yours, along with Remus, whom you had began to fix your friendship with and Sirius, who still received your coldness, which he willingly accepted. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t showed small gestures for you, whether that was making sure your glass of water was full at dinner, or going to bed after you had retired to your room for whenever you had to stay the night. Although you wouldn’t admit it but you were touched by his actions, reminding you of the sweet time from all those years back.

However all hell broke loose as you all received a Patronus, prompting you all to apparate out to the Ministry of Magic, as Harry and his friends had apparently ended up in the Department of Mysteries, where the Death Eaters were on their tail.

The group of you burst through into the room where they all were and that’s when all chaos broke loose. The Death Eaters turned onto the newly arrived and a huge battle broke out. You found yourself face to face with Rabastan Lestrange as you ran in.

His eyes lit up in delight, “Well if it isn’t the famous Auror L/n.” He cackled, “Too bad it’s time for you to finally be defeated.” And he shot a spell at you which you dodged, instead throwing a spell his way which he deflected.

Both of you were going back and forth but he hadn’t realized you were just making him feel a false sense of security.

He laughed again after deflecting another spell, “That all you got? You’re a disgrace to the name of an Auror, L/n.”

You finally smirked, “Bye bye, Lestrange." You uttered before casting a powerful spell, that too so quickly that the Death Eater noticed it a second too late, too absorbed in his self glory and went flying, hit a wall and fell down, unconscious.

It was a secret trick you used, knowing these people were too self absorbed about themselves that any small feeling of victory would have them letting their guard down.

Satisfied, you turned your eyes towards the others. However new shouts and people pointing had you looking up only to realize Albus Dumbledore, who had been on the run due to the Ministry wanting to arrest him, had also joined the battle.

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. You watched Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

''Come on, you can do better than that!'' He yelled, his voice echoing around the room.

Your eyes flitted to Bellatrix, whose face took on a deadly expression of determination.

You felt your feet begin to start moving, knowing this wouldn’t end well as Sirius was distracted. You had just screamed his name when the second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

“SIRIUS!” You shouted as his surprised gaze turned to you, and he began to fall, right back into the Veil and you felt your stomach drop.

Your years of training came into use and you managed to get there and caught his hand, pulling him back. You lost your balance and the pair of you fell onto the ground.

You heard Bellatrix cackle gleefully, shouting, “I killed Sirius Black!” And Harry, who was in a state of shock turned to her in anger and chased her all the way out, Dumbledore following. However, you couldn’t care less. You were numbly staring at Sirius’ limp body beside you, and suddenly your heart broke.

“SIRIUS!” You shouted out in agony, cradling his face. “Wake up, please! You can’t leave me again! Please wake up!” You cried, your head falling against his chest as you sobbed your heart out. “I love you.” You whispered out, too distraught that all your intelligence had left you. It’s only when Remus sat beside you, slowly grabbing you and letting you cry against him, that he, as a last attempt gripped Sirius' wrist due to which did you all find out he was still alive.

Some hours later, you all were back at Twelve Grimmauld Place, waiting for the Healer to fix up Sirius. As soon as the Healer left, you burst into the room, dropping to your knees by the bed, watching with tears of relief pooling in your eyes as you saw Sirius' chest evenly rise and fall.

He was alive.

Everyone else present at Headquarters took a little peek at him before leaving the room, knowing you and him needed time alone.

"You were right, Remus."

Remus, who was standing beside you, looked at you with a surprised expression, "What?"

"You were right, I had been lying to everyone including myself." You told him, gently stroking your thumb over Sirius' hand, gazing at him softly. "I think my feelings had come back a long time ago, I just was too stubborn to admit them." You confessed, your heart twisting. “If Sirius had died, how would I have lived with myself?” You said, turning to look at Remus, who looked at you with sympathy.

“But you have the chance now.” He answered, squeezing your shoulder encouragingly. A knock interrupted the two of you and you both turned to find Tonks sticking her head through the door.

“You got a second, Remus?” She said, to which the werewolf nodded and patted you gently on the shoulder before following the metaphormagus out. You watched him go and as the door shut, you turned to look back at Sirius, softly brushing a few loose strands of hair away from his face

He suddenly stirred, his face scrunching up before he flickered open his eyes, grey orbs flitting around as he tried to understand where he was.

"Siri?'

Your voice caught his attention and Sirius turned his head slightly to the side to look at you, his gaze filling up with love.

"Y/n/n?"

"How are you feeling?" You asked.

Sirius stared at you in surprise, finding you by his side, looking so worried which was completely astonishing to him, since you barely ever glanced at him.

"I think so." He groaned, eyes clenching shut for a brief moment, "I remember dueling Bellatrix and then a spell hit me but after that..."

"You almost fell through the veil. You almost died." You told him, your voice cracking on the last word making Sirius frown in concern as he sat up, pulling you up to seat you beside himself.

Your lip wobbled as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. "I am so sorry for everything. I-I-" A sob escaped you, "I was so hurt when you left that I told myself I'd never let anyone else in, and I held it against you when you were nothing but sorry."

Sirius felt his heart shatter and he moved to grab you but you shook your head, "I don't deserve you." You said, curling in on yourself as you finally let yourself cry, to let all those emotions buried deep within the chambers of your heart break free.

Sirius' grey eyes filled up with tears and he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to sob into his chest.

"It's not your fault, love, it never was." He told you, caressing your head gently.

"I almost lost you today and I would have never forgiven myself if I had never got to tell you that I still love you."

Sirius stiffened, his mind buzzing while his heart began to thump loudly in his chest. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“You what?” He uttered out in disbelief. You pulled away, wiping your face before placing your hands on either side of Sirius’ face.

“I love you, Sirius Black.” You expressed, your lips turning up into a small smile. "I love you so much."

Sirius stared at you with slightly rounded eyes before he smiled so wide that you melted.

“Am I dead and in heaven?”

“Sirius!” You scolded, smacking him very lightly on the chest for his mischief.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter before his eyes filled up with love and fondness, his grin not leaving his face.

“I love you so much, darling.” He practically whispered, his voice reflecting his heart. “I love you so much.”

You beamed at that before letting your hands slide to his neck, your breathing beginning to pick up as Sirius moved his hands down to your waist. Your eyes flickered between his eyes and back, him doing the exact same. You both leaned in, your eyes slowly fluttering and you gently attached your lips to his.

At that, memories of all those years came rushing back. The feel of each other, the kisses, the hugs, the happiness, the love.

The kiss was slow and soft but once you both got a taste of each other, emotions became high and the two of you got more aggressive, Sirius picking you up and placing you on his lap as you both deepened the kiss, wanting more of each other as the two of you had been deprived of each other for so long.

A sudden throat clearing made you jump and the pair of you pulled apart only to find a smirking Remus and a gleeful Tonks.

“So I guess it’s time for a celebration huh?” The young woman said, eyeing her cousin and friend.

“I think it’s best if we leave these two alone.” Remus commented, throwing a wink your way to which you flipped off them both, earning chuckles out of everyone.

Sirius pulled you close, kissing your cheek before you rested your head on his shoulder.

After long and lonely years, your heart had returned to its previous state, like it had been all those years ago, before it had hardened into stone.

Your heart was back with Sirius Black and his was yours.

Forever and always.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Question Best Left Unanswered

Okay so this one kinda got away from me and I had a grand old time with it. It's so silly and stupid but it brought me joy.

Anyways, have some more Summoned!König. This time featuring relationship angst and questions about anatomy.

TWs: discussion of sexual activity, NSFW content

Wordcount: 4.2K (it's a whopper here)

Story below the cut

Images courtesy of this post

A Question Best Left Unanswered

You hung your head in shame as you hung up the phone. What a disaster that last call had been.

The entire hour-long phonecall you’d just had with your parents had just ended up with them berating you for a good forty-five minutes before they gave up on trying to reach you. First your father had shamed you for ruining the family name, then your mother cried that she didn’t know where she went wrong with you. All those years of preparing you to be a summoner, only for you to turn out to be a miserable failure.

By the end, you’d just barely been able to hold back your tears. Once you hung up the phone, they fell freely down your cheeks as you hurriedly scurried to your room.

Of course, it couldn’t be so simple because your friend had just turned the corner as you reached your door.

“Hey!” she called with a wave, only to retract it nervously when you turned to face her, “woah. Are you okay?”

You nodded but before you could leave, your friend clasped a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re not okay,” she said grimly, “do you want to get something from the caf?”

You hesitated. Normally, you wouldn’t be willing to eat anything until dinner came around, but the call with your parents sat wrong in your stomach. It wasn’t much, but maybe a bite to eat would help.

“Sure,” you conceded, “let’s go.”

---

With a plate of crackers and fruit in front of you, the most the chefs on base would give you, you broke down and told your friend about the call.

“Your parents suck,” your friend spat, “like, who does that? I just can’t believe anyone would say that, especially not to their own kid.”

“They’re not usually that bad,” you weakly tried to defend them, but today your heart just wasn’t in it.

“Are you sure?” your friend asked as they took a bite of their veggie sandwich.

You sighed heavily.

“I just wish they would as least pretend to be proud of me,” you stirred your drink with your straw slowly, “I mean, I didn’t ask to be born like this. Why is it my fault that I can’t control my summon? He’s literally an avatar. An avatar. Those are like, the hardest summons to try to control.”

“Actually I think a legend might be,” your friend interjected, food spitting out their mouth as they spoke, “or maybe an immortal. I don’t think anyone’s managed to control a god before…”

“Okay yeah sure but it doesn't change the fact that he’s an avatar. Of chaos,” you wiped the chewed up spittle off your sleeves with a brush of your hand, “and I’m, well, you know, me. There’s no way I can handle König.”

“His name is König?” your friend asked.

“Yeah,” you took a sip of your drink, “he’s pretty nice honestly. Last week he got me my stuffed animals and the game boy I lost from my old home.”

Your friend looked at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Their jaw dropped to their chest for a moment before they were able to gather their composure.

“No fucking way,” she muttered.

“What?” you snorted, “aren’t all summons like that?”

Your friend shook her head hard enough to make you worry her neck would snap.

“No? I don’t even know my fire imp’s name, or my water sprite. They’re just my summons,” your friend explained, “most of the time they just tolerate me because they can’t kill me.”

“Don’t you form bonds with them?” you asked, now curious.

“Nope,” your friend snorted, “my water imp sprite tried to drown me when I first summoned it. Most summons try to kill their summoners as soon as they figure out that they’re not in the other realm.”

“König’s never hurt me,” you admitted.

“Never? Has he ever tried to?” your friend leaned back with an awestruck expression.

“Not once,” you confided.

“So you’re not the one that made König your mate?” your friend put together slowly, “König made you his mate!?”

You grimaced and leaned back from her, “Pretty much.”

Your friend whistled, “No fuckin’ shot. I can’t believe you bagged an avatar of chaos. Like, you realize how insane that sounds, right?”

You blinked. You hadn’t really thought about it that way. You’d always just seen it as König sparing your life, but the thought that somehow you were the one to seduce an avatar of chaos brought you a spark of joy.

“I guess you’re right,” you agreed timidly, “I just thought that he was lonely.”

Your friend snorted, “I mean probably, yeah, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he chose you as a mate,” she thought for a moment, took a bite of her sandwich and then asked, “wait, so if you’re a human and he’s an avatar, what will your kids look like?”

You flushed and turned to hide your face, but your friend was quicker.

“Wait, have you actually thought about that?” she teased you lightly.

“I mean, we’ve never actually… You know… We’re not really a couple,” you admitted.

“So you’re not banging him?” your friend raised an eyebrow.

“No?” you gasped, horrified by your friend’s suggestions, “I barely even know him!”

“But like,” your friend pressed their lips into a line. She studied you carefully before she finally asked, “Aren’t you curious?”

“About what? Fucking him?” you raised your eyebrows at the suggestion.

“I mean yeah, but like…” your friend leaned in close again, “what does he even look like?”

“I…” you paused, “I actually don’t know.”

Your friend took a bite of her salad before pointing her fork at you, “We need to fix that.”

“We!?”

“Well now I’m curious,” your friend shrugged, “so now it’s not an ish-you kind of problem, it’s an ish-us.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” you sputtered.

“Point is that I-sorry we need to figure this out. I mean,” your friend tossed you a sly look, “if you’re gonna have his kids you’re gonna have to find out one way or another.”

You were at a loss for words. All you could do was stare at the woman who sat across the table from you, almost as though she herself were an avatar of chaos.

Your friend scowled, “What?”

—

You slowed your pace to a crawl as you approached your dorm. It wasn’t that you weren’t eager to go to bed, rather the contrary, but the thought of facing König tonight made your cheeks burn bright red.

Ever since your conversation with your friend, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about König. You already thought about König a bit too much for your own comfort, but you’d never thought about König like this before. It wasn’t like you were a prude by any means, but you’d never actually considered being with König like that before.

It’s not that it had never come up, you still remembered König trying to take you almost immediately after claiming you as his mate, but ever since he’d been nothing but respectful of the boundaries you'd since put up If anything, he was sometimes more respectful of your own boundaries than you were. Maybe he read your mind more than he let on, but you liked to think he was just thoughtful. After all, if you’d been around since the beginning of time, wouldn’t you be considerate and patient? You liked to think you’d be, but you had your doubts.

Thinking about König had you blushing as you walked down the hallway to your dorm. You could see the door all the way from here, only occasionally being obscured by a summoner retreating into their dorm for the evening. Occasionally, you could see a summon tagging behind them, most often looking rather irritated or depressed, something you’d never really noticed before.

Most summons were kept in the other realm unless they were actively being called upon. Some summoners like to keep their summons by their side, almost as though they were a beloved pet. You thought to your meditation teacher with his summon. Other times, you saw summoners struggling to manage their summons. In fact, the one class you excelled in was protecting yourself against your summon. Of course, the only reason you did so well was because König never tried to attack you in the first place. Your sergeant had been frustrated at first, but after further consideration decided to take it as your summon being too attached to you to consider attacking you. With this in mind, she gave you a bright and shining report. She then promptly told you to never take her class again. You were more than happy to comply.

Of course, König didn’t always help during your training. In fact, he seemed to prefer leaving you to your own devices whenever possible. He’d once explained that he gave you minimal support to encourage you to train harder to keep up with your peers, but you decidedly figured it was because he was too lazy to help. König only rolled his eyes when you told him that and decidedly vanished to the other realm for the rest of the night.

Your doorway grew closer and closer with each step you took. You wished that you could find a way to avoid going back to your dorm, but lights out drew nearer and nearer the longer your tried to put off entering your one personal area.

Finally, you reached your dorm. With a heavy sigh, you opened the door and stepped inside.

Surprisingly, König wasn’t there to greet you.

“König?” you called out carefully, but no reply came back to you.

You walked towards your desk.

“König?” you called again, but again there was no response.

Maybe he was occupied for the evening.

A sudden rush of relief overcame you. The absolute last thing you wanted to do was face König while your conversation with your friend was still fresh on your mind. That said, you had the strong suspicion that a night of good rest wouldn’t be enough to shake the thoughts from your head. With the way the question had fixed itself to your mind, you had the dreadful feeling that the only way to find some sort of satisfactory answer was to progress your relationship with König.

But were you ready to go that far? You’d shared a kiss, but since then, König had kept his distance. He was strangely considerate of the trepidation you felt whenever the thought of being in a romantic relationship with König crossed your mind. How would that even work? You were a mortal. Your life was but a blink of his eyes. And yet, despite your limited lifespan, he chose to spend this fraction of his life by your side. Was he amused by the whims of his new plaything? Was he simply toying with you until he chose to rend the soul from your mortal flesh? The thought made you nauseous.

But why did it make you nauseous? Why did the thought of König’s ultimate betrayal feel like a stone in the pit of your stomach? Why did your eyes sting and your throat clench when you thought of how little you matter to a being as grand and powerful as König?

You had an idea of what was behind the feelings, but you daren’t give it any room to breath, never mind grow within your mind’s garden. You’d instead stamp it out, coat it in salt and rip it from the earth like a weed. Of course, the roots went deeper than you could imagine.

You slumped into the plushest chair your company could buy in the corner of your room. It was worn, tired; it had seen many generations of new and upcoming summoners such as yourself. The thought gave way to an ache deep inside your chest.

You wiped your sleeves over the tears that flowed from your eyes. You didn’t consider yourself to be of the weeping sort, but since König had entered your life, he’d seemingly turned everything upside down, including how you operated in your day-to-day life. A part of you hated it, a louder part wished to take it all with open arms. You despised both parts for their respective tenacity. 

You allowed yourself to curl up for what felt like forever before you managed to come to terms with your fears.

You would be nothing to him. You were a speck in his eye, if anything. You were naught but dust, and you would have to content yourself with such an existence. Now as to why König had taken such a shining to you, that was beyond your comprehension. If you had the mind of Aristotle, Diogenes, or Plato maybe you could have come to terms with your existence in relation to the greater world. Had you a mind of Camus, Cant or Descarte maybe you could content yourself with the meaning of your existence itself. But you had no such mind, now did you? You were weak and feeble, a summoner with all the potential one could hope for at your fingertips yet hindered by your own inability to understand the ethos of methods that had been passed on like the summoners passed before them.

You felt the tears subside briefly to allow you a moment to recover from the throes of your emotions. Unfortunately, just as you felt yourself wrangling your emotions back under your control, the pot lights flickered.

“No not now…” you groaned and curled further into the safety of the chair.

“Did I come at a bad time?” König crossed his arms as he stared at you from the centre of the room.

“Can you please go away?” you sighed as you turned away from him.

König hummed before stalking to your side, “I think that it would be wrong of me to abandon my mate when they’re in such a state.”

At the mention of ‘mate’, you groaned and ducked your head between your knees.

König paused, then drew away. He came back moments later to swath you in a warm blanket before he crouched in front of you.

“It seems something troubles you, summoner,” König droned as you drew the blankets around your form.

“I’m fine,” you spat bitterly.

König barked out a laugh before ruffling your hair affectionately, “You certainly are in quite a mood, aren’t you?”

“Just go away,” you grumbled.

König drummed his claws over his knee. His scales rippled in the crepuscular light that shone into your room, his onyx scales shining almost iridescent in the warm dying rays of sun.

“Must I read my mate’s mind to understand what troubles them so?”

You grumbled and ducked your head under the blanket.

König sighed. He stretched up with cracking joints, and you’d hoped he’d left until you felt him pull your blankets from your head. You tried to struggle against him, but he didn’t so much as budge while you writhed. With a sigh, you conceded and allowed him to pull the blankets to the side to see you properly.

“Well, summoner?”

“I just was thinking about us…” you admitted.

“Us? In what sense?” König asked, already fully aware of your answer.

“Like, we’re mates, right?” you tucked your nose to your knees, “but I don’t know why.”

König hummed, then drew you up into his arms. You struggled and spat, but he held you before he sat down on the sofa with a loud poomf as the air was punched out from the pillows.

“You don’t understand why I chose you,” König surmised quickly.

You didn’t dare meet his eyes as you nodded.

“Well,” König adjusted you so you sat upright in his lap, “I’d say it makes perfect sense.”

You stared at him blankly.

“That reaction of yours is exactly why it makes sense,” König explained, “a being of chaos is likely to tear you asunder. Maybe enslave you, maybe curse you for thousands of generations to come. It’s expected that something horrible would happen.”

“So you chose me because it was the random choice?” you asked.

“I chose you because I saw your potential,” König explained, “and, of course, you're right as what greater delight is there than to choose the opposite of the expected outcome? Why follow your expected order when I can tie you to my side for millennia to come?”

You scowled, “So you chose to be my mate because you thought it would be funny.”

König shook his head, “You could take it that way, but that would be unwise. Rather, I chose you as a mate because I saw your potential and wanted to see it through.

“You were set up to fail, you realize this?" König stared deep into your eyes, "the chalk you used to summon me was imbued to ensure that whatever was summoned would be more than you could ever hope to control. The patterns they gave you were far too complex for a beginner summoner. You were supposed to be torn apart.”

You froze in König’s arms.

“Yes, you were meant to die. But when I looked at you, marked for death by those envious of your potential,” König’s smirk was woven into his words, “I saw that potential of yours and I saw an opportunity. I saw a way to usurp the delicate balance of power this world has.”

“So I’m a pawn to you,” you felt the tears stinging behind your eyes again.

“Not in the slightest,” König chided you patiently, “I saw you for your potential and I saw someone who just needed a push. Someone who just needed someone to help them see their own worth. And that someone, dear summoner, was none other than myself.”

“That still makes me sound like a pawn,” you complained.

“Then I’ll tell you this: I chose you because I saw what we could become together,” König whispered into your ear, “I see you now, mind you. I see you and I am enthralled by you in all your strange and truly wonderful ways.

“I want you to listen carefully summoner, as this is a lesson that will be tattooed into your veins: I love you for you. I love you for who you’ve been, who you are, who you will be. I love you for all of you, completely and forever.”

You flushed brightly. Instead of replying, you simply tucked your face into yourself to avoid having to meet his eyes. Of course, the joy of being loved could only last so long in the shadow of a more pressing problem.

“I’m assuming forever is until I die,” you sighed.

“Yes? That’s what will happen, yes,” König told you plainly, “as it will happen to myself. We will die together.”

Your eyes snapped wide open as you whirled around to look him in the eyes.

“Calm yourself, summoner,” König huffed, “what makes you think that will be soon?”

“I mean, soon for you,” you muttered bitterly.

“Soon for me?” König chortled, “I don’t think that day will come anytime soon. You’re my mate summoner, you’ll be with me until we die.”

You stared at him, “So, in seventy years?”

König reeled back in shock, “Seventy years? That’s nothing! You’ll be with me for the rest of my natural life!”

You blinked.

“But…” you glared at him, “but that’s like… I’ll never get that old.”

“Summoner,” König drawled, "have you not considered that when mated to me, certain aspects of your life will change?”

Honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

“No, you didn’t think that,” König concluded after looking into your eyes, “well let me be the one to inform you that your natural life has been extended exponentially to match mine. You’ll be with me until the bitter end, I’m afraid. Or at least, for as long as you’ll take me as your mate.”

“I mean, I’m pretty happy with you,” you admitted.

“I’d hope so,” König sniffed.

“Don’t be like that,” you huffed.

“Be like what, upset that you’d be anything other than infatuated with me?” König retorted.

“Infatuated?” you laughed, “that’s a lot to ask for, isn’t it?”

“Not when it’s already provided,” König booped your nose, much to your dismay.

“I’m not infatuated-what? Where are you getting that from!?” you snapped as König threw his head back with a gurgling laugh.

“I jest, summoner,” König gave you a light kiss from beneath his mask, feeling more like being pinched by something sharp than being kissed on the cheek. You pushed his face away which he only just allowed before hugging you close.

“Now, summoner,” König rubbed his cheek against yours, leaving behind a thin sheen of something that smelled strongly of König, “I can tell there is more on your mind.”

“No there isn’t,” you lied weakly.

“No? There’s nothing I can answer for you?” König trilled.

“Nope,” you turned your face away from him, “I know everything.”

“Not yet, summoner,” König laughed.

“And who are you to question my endless knowledge?” you huffed haughtily as you cast him a downright scathing side-eye.

“Oh, nobody important,” König lay back in the seat, “only the being that saw the creation of your universe and will live to see its death.”

You rolled your eyes, already over his ‘holier than thou’, or rather, ‘more worldly than thou’ attitude.

“So tell me summoner,” König’s hand wandered down your torso, “isn’t there more on your mind?”

You flushed scarlet. He really was determined to get to the bottom of this, wasn’t he? A part of you felt that he was only pushing you this way to further tease you, but you couldn’t help the genuine curiosity bubbling forth.

“I mean, maybe,” you conceded, “but it’s nothing important.”

“I would say otherwise,” König tucked your face into his clavicle.

“Well,” you started, emboldened now that you didn’t have to look your mate in the eyes, “I was talking with a friend about you.”

“Were you now?” König drawled.

“And uh, we were talking about how you chose to be my mate, not the other way around. So, we got to talking about it, and…” you trailed off shamefully.

“Talking about us being mates? I can imagine a great myriad of topics can come forth from such a nebulous beginning,” König brushed his claws through your hair with surprisingly tender care.

“Well, we were kinda talking about what it would be like for you to fuck me?” you squeaked out.

König paused in his ministrations, seemingly shocked by your forwardness.

“I’d hope it would be pleasurable for both of us,” König stated, still befuddled by your answer.

“Well that’s what we started talking about, and then it went on to what your dick looked like?” if you didn’t think your voice could go any higher, you’d be poorly mistaken.

König slowly leaned back to be able to look you in the eyes.

His voice sounded like it was coming from deep under the ocean, “Excuse me?”

If you weren’t so embarrassed you might have laughed at your ability to shock a being older than time itself. Evidently, though König could see the ways time shifted and cross, was able to see all the possible outcomes of an event, even he couldn’t predict just how horny you were.

“I mean, it’s just like,” you shrugged, “if I wanna have your kid I’d probably have to figure it out at some point, right?”

König nodded mutely.

“Do you…” you looked him dead in the eyes, “do you even have a dick?”

König blinked.

“Yes?” he stared back at you, “I mean, what did you expect?”

You shrugged, “Maybe a cloaca?”

You could see the furious horror that washed over König’s face despite the mask.

“I do not have a cloaca and whoever told you that is a cheat, a fiend and a liar!”

Evidently someone had history.

“It’s a reasonable thing to think!” you protested, “I mean, you’ve got this whole bird-y ocean thing going on with you? It’s a vibe, sure, but it doesn’t give me much room to work with.”

"I have a what-You know what, nevermind, I don’t want to hear it,” König groaned as he rolled his eyes, “but yes I do in fact have a ‘dick’ as you refer to it. I don’t know why you’d think-”

“It was the water bird thing!”

“Why you’d think my 'vibe' might change that. I am… Wait, I don’t actually know what your species looks like,” König dropped his hands, “one moment please summoner,” he placed a thumb against your forehead, and immediately you felt your entire body go numb. After only a minute had passed, König withdrew his thumb, and with it came the return of your senses.

“Well that was informative,” König grumbled, “but not particularly helpful. I am realizing that I’m… Different from your species. Significantly so.”

“That’s really not helpful,” you flushed, “I mean, you could just show me…”

König pressed another pinching kiss to your forehead, “My mate, I think we should wait until you’re ready to go that far.”

You squirmed in his lap, “I mean, it can’t be that bad…”

“You can wait,” König tucked you back to his chest, “I assure you it won’t change for another thousand years.”

“Wait, it changes?” you spluttered.

“I reserve my right to remain silent,” König replied.

“You sure don’t use it often,” you grumbled only to find your lips pressed firmly together into a line. Despite your best efforts, your lips remained stuck in place.

König sighed and settled back into the sofa, “Much better.”

You were going to kill him, you swore by it.

AU Masterlist

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hiya! It's me! I've been sending you so many asks that I wouldn't be surprised if you gave me a restraining order!

I made an account so I can actually participate in some of your rp things- if that's okay with you of course.

I sent you the ideas for the succubus, deadpool x wolverine and bimbo!au's, I sent others but I'd need to go through my memory, which would take all night.

Anyway- I have a new au idea for you! I think you'll like this. It's basically a gothic vampire!au.

I'm going to attach screen shots because I've already written it out and for some reason Tumblr doesn't let you copy and paste (it's already 1am where I am and I don't want to have to write this out all again, so I'm really sorry if this'll be annoying for you 😭).

Continuation--

Adam: it's rude to stare, you know. How did a kid get in here?

Lucifer jumped at his voice: I-I'm not a kid!- I'm 30 years old!

Adam: really dude? What are you? 5"3?... you didn't get the long straw when it came to genes, huh? See what I did there?

Lucifer sighs as the man chuckles to himself.

Lucifer: uh... that's... not important- a-are you the owner?

Adam stares at Lucifer for a few seconds before taking a sip from his glass. Lucifer watches his every move, he feels like prey- are those fangs??

Adam: I guess you can say that.. my names Adam. Even though I think the asshole who broke into my house should introduce themselves first- but I'm in a good mood today!

Adam stands and pulls a chair infront of him.

Adam: Here man, have a seat, might as well make yourself comfortable.

The way Adam smiled and watched his every move made Luicfer shiver. He walked as calmy as he could to the chair infront of Adam. He sits, eyes never leaving Adams deep red ones.

Lucifer: I'm Lucifer- and I apologize for the breaking and entering. It's uh, not the best first impression.

Adam: wait- Lucifer? Like the Devil? That's sick. And I'm not one for first impressions, but you've certainly made an entrance, buddy.

Lucifer: Yeah, like the Devil, blame my father for that one-

Adam: I ain't judging man! I think it's cool, everyone has such boring names these days, it's nice to be surprised, nothing surprises me much anymore.

Adam runs his clawed hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Lucifers face. He notices as his eyes travel down to his chest, where his shirt has opened a bit more. Adam smirks, leaning forward, giving Lucifer a better view.

Adam: I would offer you a drink, but I think you want something else~

----

That's all I have! I hope this seems interesting to you 😭

Feel free to continue it, I'll try and participate to! It would be my first time doing these rp type things, so I'm sorry if I'm a bit all over the place lol

Okay- bye!

Ahhh!! Thank you for all your amazing ideas friendo! This too is amazing 🤩

And yes of course you can participate in the rp blogs! What account is it?

-

Lucifer felt a little called out, this man was so good looking he felt like he was trapped in a trance.

Lucifer: I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-

Adam: Pfft it's fine, I get it. I know I'm hot shit and I don't mind you looking. In fact.

Adam leaned in closer until his hot breath ghosted over Lucifer's face.

Adam: I wouldn't mind you doing more than just looking.

He grinned at the way the blonde man's face turned bright red at the implication. Humans were always so easy to work up. And man this one was easy on the eyes as well.

It's been a while since Adam had a visitor. Even longer since he had a rendezvous.

[lizzyiii]

His Darling (2)

pairing | loki x fem!reader

word count | 6.2k words

taglist | to be added to this taglist just add your username to his DOC summary | you, loki and mobius travel to 1893 in search of ravonna renslayer and miss minutes, where you happen upon a variant of he who remains, victor timely. note | language, sylvie??? a/n | would y'all hate me if I said I actually didn't like sylvies character, so I guess bias could count as a warning

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ - ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

As soon as they brought you back to the TVA, your eyes widened at the chaos unfolding around you. The once-structured organization was now teetering on the edge of collapse. Mobius and Loki quickly led you into a large, bright room, and your jaw dropped when you spotted the Temporal Loom outside the window, its unstable energy crackling in the distance.

Behind you, Loki’s voice broke through the tension, laced with urgency. “So, how do we get in?”

“Without He Who Remains' temporal aura, I don’t know,” a short man with glasses—clearly frazzled—replied, adjusting his frames.

“Well, how much time do we have?” B-15 asked, her gaze lingering on you, clearly surprised and suspicious to see you back in the TVA.

The man continued, launching into a technical explanation, “It’s stable right now, but the branches Dox pruned are growing back. So if we can’t get in there and increase the diameter of the Loom’s intake ring enough to boost throughput and clear that knot of unrefined time…”

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he cut him off, “Wait. Simpler.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping in to clarify, “He’s saying the Loom can’t handle all the new branches. We need to scale its capacity to manage the influx, or it’ll fail. And the TVA will be destroyed.”

“Exactly! And we’re all gonna die,” the man added, as though it were a minor inconvenience. He then turned to you, offering a friendly smile. “I’m Ouroboros, but you can call me OB.”

You returned a tight smile, crossing your arms. “Darling. A pleasure.”

"There has to be another way," Loki insisted, his tone sharp with impatience, though there was an underlying sense of urgency in his eyes.

"We could hack into the system?" Mobius suggested, though the uncertainty in his voice made it clear he was grasping at straws.

OB’s eyes widened with sudden hope as he turned to Mobius, "Really? Oh, that is such a relief!"

Mobius quickly shook his head, backpedaling, "No, no, no, I’m wondering."

Loki stepped in, clarifying with an exasperated sigh, "I think he meant it as an idea, OB."

OB looked visibly deflated but still hopeful. "Can we though?" Mobius asked again, a slight shrug accompanying his words.

You pointed sharply towards the closed window, your voice laced with irritation. "No, Mobius. We need He Who Remains' specific temporal aura to access the Loom. There’s no hacking our way in."

OB sighed in reluctant agreement, "She’s right. We’re all still gonna die." His tone was so matter-of-fact, it bordered on comedic.

"No one's gonna die," B-15 cut in firmly, her voice strong and unyielding as she folded her arms, surveying the room. "There has to be another option."

You looked around, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectations, your mind racing for a solution. Then, a spark of realization hit you. "What about Miss Minutes?" you blurted, the idea forming rapidly. "Perhaps she can open up access to the Loom."

Loki’s gaze flicked to you, a glint of intrigue in his eyes as he nodded, then turned to OB. "Miss Minutes. Can she?"

OB perked up, nodding, "Conceivably, yes. She has administrator access to the entire TVA."

“Administrator access to the whole universe,” Mobius muttered, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “Doesn’t really help us if she’s gone, though. She’s AWOL. How are we supposed to track down a rogue clock that doesn’t want to be found?”

You furrowed your brow, clearly puzzled. “What do you mean she’s gone AWOL?”

Mobius shrugged with a sigh, looking exasperated. “Turns out… she’s pretty much evil now. So, yeah, there’s that.”

You scrunched your nose in mild disbelief, your lips curling slightly in a mix of confusion and annoyance. "An evil artificial intelligence clock? Sure. What a cliche." you murmured.

The room trembled violently, the walls vibrating as the instability of the Loom became increasingly apparent. Papers fluttered off the desk, and the lights flickered ominously.

“I’d say the sooner we find her, the better,” Loki said urgently, his brows knitted together, eyes darting around the chaotic space.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Casey, the receptionist, chimed in from behind a computer, glancing nervously at the screens that blinked erratically. “Miss Minutes sent a whole bunch of intel to Renslayer, and then poof! She vanished.”

B-15 nodded, gesturing towards the monitor displaying the tracking information. “The two hits we had on the TemPad trace point us right to her.”

Loki’s expression sharpened, determination glinting in his eyes. “If we find Renslayer, we find Miss Minutes.”

Mobius chuckled nervously. “That’s gonna be an awkward reunion. Face-to-face with the woman who tried to prune us both.” He grimaced, imagining the scene.

You turned, a brow arched in disbelief. “Renslayer tried to kill you?”

Mobius pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Pruned me, actually. One minute I’m minding my own business, and the next… whoosh—gone.”

“Look on the bright side,” Loki said with a smirk, “maybe she got it out of her system. Let’s just focus on that cartoon clock.”

Loki and Mobius exchanged a glance, their expressions signaling that it was time to move out. They turned to head toward the exit, but suddenly paused, turning back to you expectantly.

You looked at them in confusion, hands on your hips. “What?”

Mobius gestured toward the door they were about to head through. “Aren’t you coming?”

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head with mock seriousness. “Boys, I’m the brains, not the brawn like you two. And I wouldn’t want to be the third wheel in this little good cop, bad cop adventure,” you said, shooting them a sassy smile as you gestured between the two of them.

Loki and Mobius exchanged a glance, still staring at you expectantly, but you merely rolled your eyes and began walking in the direction they were headed, a exasperated look on your face.

You let out a frustrated groan as you struggled to pull your uncomfortable corset higher above your breasts, trying to find some semblance of comfort as you followed Loki and Mobius into the time door. The fabric dug into your ribs, and you couldn’t help but mutter, “Why do women even wear these things?”

Mobius, oblivious to your discomfort, glanced at the TemPad in his hand. “Okay, we got a hit on the TemPad going from right here, Chicago 1868 to the same spot, 1893.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why would you go to the same place twice?”

“I don’t know,” Mobius replied, his brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m trying to connect the dots. This isn’t a pivotal point in history.” He glanced around at the bleak surroundings, which were devoid of any excitement or intrigue.

“Any major figure arise from here?” Loki pressed, clearly searching for a reason behind the locations.

“No,” Mobius said, scratching his head in confusion.

You chimed in absent-mindedly, your eyes scanning the area. “There was the Chicago Fire, but that took place in 1871.” You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about this whole setup.

Loki nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Let’s go to 1893.”

Mobius murmured more to himself than to either of you, “Ravonna, what are you up to?”

You hummed in irritation, unable to keep quiet any longer. “You two do realize how uncomfortable I am, right?” You huffed, trying to adjust it again.

Loki flashed you a reassuring grin. “I think the dress looks great on you.”

“Tell that to my organs, which are being rearranged,” you shot back with a sassy tone, a playful glint in your eye despite the discomfort as the three of you stepped through another time door.

As you three stepped through the time door, you were instantly enveloped by the vibrant chaos of a bustling carnival. Brightly colored tents swayed in the breeze, laughter and music filled the air, and the smell of popcorn and caramel wafted tantalizingly around you.

“This can’t be the same place,” Loki said, skepticism lacing his tone as he squinted at the festivities unfolding before you.

“Absolutely it is! How could we have forgotten?” Mobius exclaimed, a gleam of excitement lighting up his eyes. He tapped your arm with enthusiasm, prompting you to give him a withering look. “Chicago World’s Fair, 1893! The White City, Edison, H.H. Holmes! Yes! Hot air balloons!” He gestured wildly, as if trying to lift off into the sky with the balloons themselves.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he pieced together the information. “This makes more sense as a destination. You’re saying they went to 1868 by mistake, then jumped 25 years ahead because this is where they actually wanted to be?”

“No, no,” Mobius said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t describe Renslayer as accident-prone. Plus, if she has Miss Minutes to help her, there’s got to be a purpose for them coming here earlier.”

“We just have to figure it out,” Loki concluded, determination etched on his face.

You watched the two of them with a bemused expression, fully aware that you had become the third wheel in their clear partnership. Already, you had tuned out their animated conversation, despite standing right between them. Your eyes roamed the carnival, searching for any sign that could explain why Renslayer would choose this vibrant place as her destination.

As the two men continued their discussion, Loki making notes in the air with a thoughtful expression while Mobius casually scanned the area like he was on vacation, you instinctively followed them.

You sighed inwardly, resigned to your role in this odd duo, but at least the carnival provided a colorful backdrop to your musings. You tried to catch snippets of their dialogue, but your curiosity about the fairgrounds kept pulling you away, eager to unravel the mystery of Renslayer's presence.

As you continued to survey the carnival, the vibrant sights and sounds momentarily distracted you until you felt a firm shake on your arm. You snapped back to reality, narrowing your eyes at Mobius, who wore a look of mild concern. “What?” you said, pulling your arm away.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. “I called your name like a hundred times.”

You huffed in annoyance, “I’m trying to find Renslayer while you two seem perfectly content to be sightseeing.”

“It’s not me,” Loki chimed in, feigning offense. “It’s Mobius who’s distracted by his cracker jack.”

“Want some?” Mobius offered, his hand outstretched with a bag of caramel popcorn. You looked down at it, scrunching your nose in disgust.

“That’s really bad for your teeth,” you said, wrinkling your face even more.

Mobius rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

Turning away from him, you scanned the carnival once more when your gaze landed on a sign. “Gentlemen, doesn’t that seem familiar?”

Both men followed your finger, their expressions shifting as they read the large letters spelling out “Temporal.”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Mobius murmured, a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

“That’s where we’ll find Renslayer,” Loki agreed, his tone now serious.

You winced, bringing your hand to your forehead as a familiar ache pulsed at your temples. It felt like the universe had decided to stage a protest inside your head.

Loki, ever observant, frowned as he caught sight of your discomfort. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

You managed a strained smile, the corners of your lips barely lifting. “Oh, just a delightful migraine, Get them all the time since I left the TVA.”

Mobius glanced at you with curiosity as you continued walking toward the towering science building. “By the way, how long were you on Earth that you managed to become superstar status?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Two years,” you replied, lifting your chin with pride. “Right when that little incident happened where half the population just… poofed.”

Mobius nodded, clearly piecing it together. “You mean the Blip.”

Loki’s confusion was palpable, and he looked between you and Mobius, eyebrows knitted. “What’s a blip?”

Mobius gave Loki’s shoulder a friendly pat as you stepped inside the grand entrance of the science building. “I’ll tell you later,” he promised, clearly amused by Loki’s confusion.

“I think she’s here,” Mobius muttered as the three of you stepped into the lively, bustling room. Laughter, clinking glasses, and conversation swirled around you as the soft lighting added a touch of grandeur.

Loki’s eyebrow arched skeptically as he surveyed the scene. “You think?” he replied dryly, his tone laced with disbelief. His gaze darted from person to person, as though expecting Renslayer to leap out from behind a cocktail menu.

“Well, I don’t know,” Mobius shrugged, gesturing toward the lavish mini bar at the far end. “She does like a good drink.”

You perked up immediately, eyes lighting up as you made a beeline for the bar. “And so do I,” you said with a smirk, heading straight for the bartender.

Before you could get far, Mobius quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, exasperation clear in his voice.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, giving him an impatient look. “I just want a wee martini, Mobius. Calm down. I promise, I won’t start a multiversal crisis over a cocktail.” With a flourish, you pulled your arm away, walking toward the bartender with a confident strut.

Approaching the bar, you flashed your most dazzling, award-ceremony-worthy smile. “A martini, please,” you purred, leaning on the counter, fully embracing the moment.

The bartender smiled back, glancing around briefly before asking, “And where is your husband, madam?”

Your smile instantly dropped, replaced by an incredulous glare. “Excuse me?” You were about to retort when you felt a presence behind you.

His voice, smooth as silk and dangerously close to your ear, made your skin tingle as he spoke. “A martini for my wife, please,” Loki said in that charmingly smug way he had, barely containing his amusement.

The bartender blinked, then hastily nodded, scurrying off to prepare the drink as if Loki himself were royalty—which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth.

You turned to face Loki, rolling your eyes dramatically at him, though a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “Thank you, husband,” you muttered under your breath, giving him a pointed look.

As soon as the bartender handed you your martini, you took a slow, deliberate sip, savoring the cool taste as you casually scanned the room. It wasn’t long before you felt Loki's gaze on you, his eyes lingering, focused, as if searching for something just beyond reach.

“I feel like I know you,” Loki blurted out suddenly, his voice quiet but intense, cutting through the noise of the room.

Your eyes snapped to his, and for a brief moment, the air felt heavy. You shifted awkwardly, trying to mask the odd familiarity you were feeling too. “Maybe it’s just déjà vu,” you quipped with a raised brow, trying to downplay the tension. Your voice was light, but underneath, something flickered.

“Perhaps,” Loki murmured, his eyes still not leaving you, the wheels in his mind visibly turning. After a beat, he extended his arm toward you, a subtle invitation. With a sigh, you slipped your arm through his, and the two of you set off to find Mobius.

It didn’t take long. Mobius was lurking at the edge of the room, his face set in a look of quiet triumph as soon as he spotted you. “I found her,” he whispered, leaning in as he gestured discreetly with his head.

Both you and Loki turned, eyes locking on Renslayer standing amidst the crowd. She was near the stage, dressed in a plain outfit that somehow felt out of place among the excitement of the gathering, her eyes fixed eagerly on the scene unfolding in front of her.

“Don’t let her see you,” Loki whispered in your ear, his voice urgent but calm, as if this were just another puzzle to solve.

Before you could reply, the room dimmed, the lights flickering out as the curtains on the stage slowly pulled back. A hush fell over the crowd, anticipation rippling through the air.

Revealed on stage was a strange, intricate machine, its polished gears glinting under the spotlight. You furrowed your brow, watching as the audience murmured in excitement.

“Is that the Loom?” Mobius asked, confusion lacing his voice as he squinted toward the stage.

“I think so,” Loki replied, his gaze dark and thoughtful, his fingers tightening slightly around your arm as if bracing for what was to come next.

You took another sip of your martini, glancing between Loki and the strange machine on the stage. “Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s worth all the dramatics. My feet are killing me.”

As the man on stage began to speak, his voice slow and deliberate, the dim lighting obscured his face, adding to the eeriness of the moment. “Time is everything,” he droned on, his words drawn out, “It moves… through each and every one of us.”

The man continued, his voice even more excruciatingly slow. “It shapes our… lives. Our… futures. But perhaps we can shape… it.” As he finished, the lights clicked on, revealing his face.

Your head snapped toward Loki just as he gasped, his normally cool exterior cracking for a moment. “It’s him,” he said, his voice edged with something that surprised you—fear.

“Who’s him?” you asked, more curious than alarmed.

Loki’s expression darkened as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “He Who Remains.”

You frowned, glancing back at the man on stage. He didn’t exactly look menacing, more like an eccentric professor with a flair for theatrics. Mobius, on the other hand, chuckled lightly. “What? You made him sound like this terrifying figure.”

Loki’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping low as he leaned in closer. “He is terrifying. You don’t understand.”

You cast a skeptical look at Loki, eyeing the man on stage again. “He looks like I could push him over with one finger.”

Loki shot you a sharp look, his seriousness unshaken. “Trust me, that would be the last thing you’d ever do.”

You raised an eyebrow at Loki, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, what now? We wait for him to give a TED Talk on the end of time, or do we actually have a plan?”

Loki nodded firmly, acknowledging your point. “You’re right. We can’t just stand here. It’s one of the Variants He Who Remains warned me about. It’s beginning... something is coming.”

Mobius, however, remained skeptical, glancing at the man on stage. “Look where we are. Does he look like he’s about to conquer all of time?”

Despite yourself, you found the man’s words intriguing as he continued his demonstration, detailing how his Temporal Loom inverts the Temporal Decay of electricity, lowering its entropy, and gathering it into fine threads of power. His enthusiasm grew as he explained how his device could generate enough energy to light the whole of Chicago, much more than Edison ever could.

As he fully lit up the Loom, the room was bathed in a bright glow, and the crowd erupted into applause. You, without even thinking, joined in, clapping along with them. Loki gave you a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by your enthusiasm.

You blinked innocently and leaned closer to Loki, murmuring, “We need to bring him back to the TVA.”

Loki whipped his head toward you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t trust a Variant of He Who Remains in the TVA. That’s madness.”

“Madness or not, that’s a later problem,” Mobius interrupted, his tone practical. “We have a very serious now problem.”

Loki exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated. “The Loom…”

“Exactly,” you chimed in, gesturing toward Victor Timely, the man on stage. “And his aura is the only thing that can give us access to the Loom. Like it or not, we need him.”

Mobius nodded in agreement. “And who knows what else he can do?”

Loki wasn’t convinced, but before he could argue further, Mobius raised an eyebrow and scanned the crowd. “I mean how were we ever planning to get Renslayer or Miss Minutes to help us? Speaking of which where the hell are they?”

You squinted, searching the crowd, and then spotted her. “Um, gentlemen... Over there.”

Mobius groaned, seeing Renslayer engaged in conversation with Victor Timely. “Great. She’s talking to our guy.”

Loki cursed under his breath. “This way,” he said, grabbing your arm gently and pulling you and Mobius toward the far side of the room. “We need to move—now.”

As the three of you rushed through the crowded room, trying to catch Victor, you accidentally bumped into a massive man. His hand shot out, gripping your arm tightly. "Watch where you're going," he growled.

You tried to yank your arm free, but his grip was like iron. With an irritated glare, you said, "Pardon me, now will you please let go?"

The man smirked down at you, clearly amused by your defiance. "Aren’t you a pretty one."

You opened your mouth, ready to unleash a barrage of sarcastic insults, but before you could, another hand slid around your forearm, pulling you free from the man's grip with ease.

Loki stepped between you and the brute, his eyes glinting mischievously as he protectively positioned you behind him. You were about to insist that you could handle yourself, but Loki spoke first, his voice cool and dangerous. "Now, is that any way to treat a lady?"

"Loki, it's fine," you muttered, rolling your eyes but appreciating the intervention. "Let’s go."

Mobius, ever the practical one, chimed in, his voice edged with impatience. "Come on, he’s getting away! Can we deal with this later, please?"

The brute sneered, knocking Loki’s hat off with a flick of his hand, towering over him condescendingly. "How about we settle this outside, little man?"

"Gently," Mobius murmured cautiously, eyes darting nervously between the two.

Loki’s lips curled into a dark smile. "Outside? Excellent suggestion." He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a menacing purr. "I agree."

With a single, elegant gesture from Loki’s hand, green smoke enveloped the large man, and in an instant, he vanished, leaving only shocked gasps in his wake. Your jaw dropped slightly as you muttered, “Well, that's one way to take him outside."

"Come on," Loki murmured, taking your arm with a self-satisfied look as Mobius scrambled to do damage control, raising his hands to calm the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, the amazing Loki! He’ll be here all week!"

The crowd broke into hesitant applause, still reeling from the spectacle, as you, Loki, and Mobius slipped out of the building.

The three of you finally caught up to Victor Timely, just as Renslayer was about to usher him away. The tension in the air was palpable as all of you spoke at once, trying to capture Victor’s attention.

Amid the chaos, a disgruntled stranger suddenly stepped forward, cutting through the noise. "I want my money back, Timely. These trousers don’t work."

Victor’s expression didn’t even flicker, except for a tiny twitch in his eye. He slipped seamlessly into damage control mode, his voice slick with practiced charm. "Councilman! What on Earth are you talking about? You look taller already. I told you, these trousers are a prototype. Perhaps… a few adjustments next week?"

"Next week?" The councilman frowned.

"Yes, next week," Victor nodded with a wide, reassuring grin. "All sorted. Fine?"

"Fine," the man muttered, clearly pacified.

"Fine," Victor echoed with an air of finality, nodding before turning back to you all, still smiling.

"Mechanical trousers?" Mobius asked, raising an eyebrow.

Loki observed Victor with narrowed eyes. "You’re a confidence trickster."

"More like a garden-variety con artist," you chimed in, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you folded your arms, clearly unimpressed.

Victor, ever the showman, raised a finger as if to correct you. "Luminary is the word you’re looking for," he said with a flourish, now leading the four of you forward.

"Of course," Loki replied, his voice suddenly honeyed with mock politeness. "Forgive me."

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, of course. Let's all pretend we're in the presence of greatness." You shot Loki a sideways glance.

"Just keep playing along," Loki murmured back.

"My ideas are just ahead of their time," Victor Timely insisted, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm as he gestured dramatically.

Loki leaned in, his voice smooth and charismatic. "Why wouldn’t they be? You’re clearly a genius," he said, flashing that signature Loki grin.

Timely nodded eagerly, oblivious to the sarcasm. "The concepts are bona fide! I just need the crude technology of this era to catch up with my visionary mind." He started to ramble on, his hands flying through the air as he outlined his grand ideas.

You shot Loki a knowing glance. "Do you know? I never doubted it for a second," Loki replied, barely concealing his amusement.

"Enlightened fellows never do," Timely proclaimed proudly, puffing out his chest.

But then a voice cut through the air, piercing the bubble of Timely's ego. "Your inventions are fake, Timely!"

There was a beat of silence as everyone turned to the source of the interruption. Timely’s expression shifted from pride to panic. He quickly glanced at the four of you, then back at the commotion. "Excuse me," he muttered, his bravado collapsing as he bolted.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "I’m not running in this corset," you huffed, entirely serious as you adjusted the hem of your outfit, which was definitely not made for sprinting. The fabric felt constricting, and the last thing you wanted was to trip over yourself and have your breasts spill out.

But before you could finish your protest, Loki grasped your wrist with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Too late," he smirked, and just like that, he took off running after Timely, dragging you along with him.

As you both dashed through the chaotic crowd, your heels clicked against the ground, and you could feel the weight of the corset digging into your lungs. Finally, you caught up with them, leaning on your knees to catch your breath.

Loki had cornered Victor, grabbing him by the collar. “Victor. All right. You’re clearly really good at getting away,” he said, his voice low and playful.

Victor adjusted his glasses, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “We have that in common,” he murmured, brushing off the tension as if it were just another day in his peculiar life.

Just as you opened your mouth to interject, "Loki," a shout rang out from behind you. A blonde woman burst onto the scene, brandishing a dagger that seemed ridiculously oversized for anyone's comfort. You squinted at her weapon. Was it a dagger or a short sword? Either way, it looked dangerous.

“Sylvie! Sylvie, no!” Loki shouted, his voice rising in urgency as he instinctively stepped in front of Victor and you, putting himself between you and the threat.

You barely had time to react before he shoved you and Victor into a nearby cart of the Ferris Wheel, the colorful lights spinning above adding a surreal touch to the chaos.

“Just wait. Just wait for a second,” he urged, trying to keep his tone calm even as he faced the incoming storm.

“You’ve done enough,” Sylvie hissed at Loki, her eyes blazing with fury. “Get out of my face and let me finish the job.”

"When you showed up out of nowhere to ruin my life!" the blonde woman continued, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. Your irritation surged, and you could feel the tension in the air thickening. "You asked me what I would do if one of his Variants turned up. And I told you then, I’d kill him."

Victor, caught in the crossfire, blinked in confusion. "What is going on?" he stuttered, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

"We need him," Loki said, standing protectively in front of Timely, his expression a mix of defiance and concern. "Without his help, the TVA will be destroyed."

"Good. Let it burn," she hissed, glaring at Loki as if he were the source of all her problems. "Do you care about anything but the TVA?"

Victor blinked again, his mind racing. "The TVA… the Time Variance Authority," he repeated, almost as if trying to wrap his head around the situation.

"Victor, not the time," you interjected, sarcasm dripping from your voice as you rolled your eyes.

Fed up with the escalating confrontation, you stepped in front of Loki, staring the obviously deranged woman down. "Look, babe, I don't know who the hell you are, but if the Loom fails and the TVA is destroyed, there won’t be a life to go back to. Not for you, not for me. And we can’t fix it without him." Your words hung in the air, bold and challenging.

She seemed eager to stick her dagger into you now, and you felt Loki shift protectively, positioning himself between you and the threat. The woman ranted on, "Stopping that place from being destroyed and fixing it are two very, very different things. And working with one of his Variants isn’t gonna get you anywhere."

"Well, your machete hasn’t solved any problems thus far," Loki shot back.

"Oh, it's a machete," you couldn't help but murmur.

“Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I’m gonna get any joy out of killing that man?” she spat, her grip tightening on the weapon.

From behind Loki, you chimed in, "Seems like you do."

Loki ignored your comment, focusing instead on Sylvie. "Then don’t."

“Where do you think he got that book?” Sylvie demanded, her eyes narrowing as she snatched the small volume from Victor’s hand with a flick of her wrist.

It sailed through the air, and you instinctively ducked as it hurtled toward Loki. He caught it with ease, confusion etched across his face as you both exchanged glances, wondering how Victor could possibly have a copy of the TVA manual.

“If you and the TVA hadn’t messed with him, he’d have remained harmless,” she continued, her voice rising in fervor. “But instead, you weaponized him.”

“What are you on about?” Loki replied, furrowing his brow, clearly at a loss.

“Renslayer set him on a path he wasn’t meant for! And now you’re waltzing him straight back into the TVA—the thief of all free will. The most dangerous man who ever lived!” She punctuated her words by pointing her machete at Victor, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something crucial.

“Sylvie, I’ve never met this man in my life!” Loki exclaimed, his voice firm but incredulous. “I didn’t give him this book. I only learned Victor Timely’s name today. I was shocked when I saw his face. Maybe you’re right—perhaps we should throw him off this Ferris wheel. But we need him. The TVA needs him. The lives they protect need him!”

“You haven’t got a clue, have you?” Sylvie shot back, her disbelief palpable as she processed Loki’s words.

With a sudden burst of movement, she charged at Loki, and he quickly dodged, using his magic to keep Timely shielded behind him. You tried to keep out of the line of fire, your heart racing now as you maneuvered to avoid the chaos.

“Those lives—your home—are in danger!” Loki insisted, pointing toward Sylvie with a fierce determination. “And right now, he may be our best hope of saving them!”

Sylvie paused, her expression conflicted. “This is all very familiar, isn’t it? I can’t let him live,” she murmured, her tone heavy with the weight of her convictions.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated, but just as you went to speak, you noticed the magic crackling around both Loki and Sylvie, energy pulsing in the air.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, but it was too late to react. A brilliant flash of green erupted, and you felt the force of their magic collide, propelling you out of the Ferris wheel window. Time seemed to slow as you flew through the air, your heart racing, before you plummeted into the lake below.

The cold water enveloped you as you gasped for air, the remnants of their magic still buzzing through your body. Panic surged as you struggled against your heavy dress, which felt like it was dragging you down.

You finally broke the surface, spluttering and coughing, desperate for breath. Clumsily, you heaved yourself onto the stone wall surrounding the lake, the rough edges scraping against your skin. A familiar migraine throbbed in your temples, forcing you to wince and groan.

“Darling!” Loki’s alarmed voice sliced through the chaos, and you turned to see him rushing toward you, his expression a mix of concern and urgency. “C’mon, Renslayer escaped with Timely. We have to move!”

Irritation flared within you, overpowering the pain. You swatted his hand away, glaring up at him. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

Loki paused, his brow furrowed in confusion as he studied your face, his perfect features clouded by concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine bewilderment in his voice.

You snapped your eyes to him, letting out a hollow laugh that dripped with sarcasm. “What’s wrong?! How about the fact that some crazy woman just showed up out of nowhere, screaming her lungs out? Or the fact that I had a machete pointed at me more than once?”

You put your hand to your heart in mock shock, rolling your eyes dramatically. “Oh, and let’s not forget the little detail of being blasted by not one, but two gods."

Loki winced as your voice escalated, his expression shifting to a mix of concern and discomfort. As he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck that was about?”

At that moment, Mobius appeared, awkwardly pedaling a ridiculous three-seater bike. He glanced at your drenched form and offered a soft, reassuring smile. “Oh, you’re okay,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

Loki cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “That was Sylvie. My variant. She’s the one who killed He Who Remains.”

You scoffed, folding your arms tightly against your chest, the damp fabric of your dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin. “Oh, so she’s basically the reason the Loom is failing,” you shot back, your voice dripping with spite.

“It’s not as simple as that,” Loki replied, his voice softer, almost pleading.

“It kind of is, Loki,” you said, narrowing your eyes and leveling your gaze at him, frustration etched into your features.

The tension hung thick in the air, palpable as Mobius shifted uncomfortably beside the bike, his usual ease replaced by uncertainty. “Are you okay, Darling?” he murmured skeptically, concern flickering across his face.

“No, I’m not okay!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over. “I’m scraped, I’m wet—” But before you could continue your rant, a warm, almost tingling breeze enveloped you, and suddenly, you felt dry.

You turned to glare at Loki, who wore a sheepish expression, his eyes darting away as if caught red-handed. “Don’t ever use magic on me without my permission,” you snapped, your irritation flaring.

“Of course,” Loki murmured, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips, as if he found your reaction amusing.

You bent down, pressing your fingers against your temples, the unbearable pain returning in sharp waves. You felt Loki’s hesitant hand on your back, ready to comfort, but you waved it away, forcing a tight smile. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insisted, though the weariness in your voice betrayed you.

Mobius cleared his throat, eager to shift the focus away from your discomfort. He gestured to the bike, his eyes hopeful. “I thought we could use this—”

“Absolutely not,” Loki interjected, his tone a mix of disbelief and disdain as you both exchanged looks of disgust at the contraption.

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!💚💛