#like uh i remember reading that book when i was 11

[im2tired4usernames]

Huh do you guys remember the book tuck everlasting? How the main girl Winnie was a fat ten year old with an immortal love interest who was "17" but actually like 100 n something and the whole thing with him was he wanted her to drink the everlasting water when she turned 17 so shed be 17 forever and they could get married like that was kinda weird he would.like take her just the two of em and talk up marriage with her and she was like TEN ? They changed it in the movie and made her a skinny fifteen year old but still wow I'm surprised why so many christan parents let that romance book be allowed but like....pride n prejudice was a debate? I don't understand the logic of homeschool mother's AT ALL WHY WAS THAT BOOK ALLOWED BUT WHY WAS I SCREAMED AT FOR CHECKING OUT OLD YELLER AT THE LIBRARY BY A HOMESCHOOL MOTHER IN OUR CO-OP???

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[chanswhxre]

A Very Good Boy [Kinktober '24]

✩ kinktober masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ ao3

♡ Pairing : han jisung x afab! reader

♡ Genre : smut, edging and denial

♡ Word count : 1.4k words

♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content, a little subby han, piv, oral sex. I will not put any more specific warnings to avoid spoiling the story. Read at your own risk!

❗️ minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.

"Fuck. Jagi, I need you..please." Jisung sighed as he held on to your waist under your shirt like his life depended on it.

"We can't, babe. Minho and the others are outside, and you have to finish your homework." You whisper in his ear.

You've been like this for the past hour in his room, straddling him on his seat in front of his desk. He was supposed to finish this essay from the online university course he was taking that is due at 11:59 pm today, and you were supposed to read a book while waiting for him to finish and cuddle with you, but things went differently when he begged you to come closer to him and sit on his lap for inspiration.

"Please, I'll be quiet." He pleaded.

"No. You have to work on that essay, Hannie, or else I’m gonna have to go outside so you can focus." You shook your head.

"No! Please stay here." He whined and then continued typing on his computer. You obliged and stayed cuddled up to him, feeling your boyfriend's warmth and also the hard-on straining in his sweatpants. He kept squirming, trying to rub on your core, which got you worked up as well. Still, you had incredible self-restraint, and he needed to finish that essay, but he's being stubborn, and he was making you horny as well, so you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and started grinding on him, which caused him to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. Baby.." he moaned and gripped your hips tightly, helping you grind.

"Sshh..if you want me to stay like this, you have to keep quiet and continue working."

He nodded, but he started to get needy. The two of you hadn't fucked in as long as you could remember because he had been swamped with new album promotions for the past few weeks; hence it was understandable that he craved you; he needed to feel you, to connect with you, both emotionally and sexually but he had to finish his essay first because, as important as this was, he had a deadline.

He takes a whiff of you as if he were going rabid, his hot breath tickling you as he places sloppy kisses all over your neck and his hands roaming around your body and then playing with your clothed nipples while you hold on to his hair and you stare into each other’s eyes.

"Do you want me to suck you?"

"Yes, please!" He excitedly answered,

"You promise that you'll focus on it?"

"Yes! I promise, I just need to feel that pretty mouth, baby."

You could feel your wetness pool in your panties as you went under his desk and pulled his already angry, hard, and leaking cock out. You gave him kitten licks until you started to suck him off. He continued typing as you gave him a blowjob under his desk.

"Jagi...I need you to..please." He tried to say it as quietly as possible, slightly bucking his hips forward when you swallowed his aching cock whole, which made him gasp in pleasure. He covered his mouth to muffle the sounds he was making as you sucked and swirled your tongue around him. He was being such a good boy being all quiet like you said and religiously doing his essay, but not good enough to cum just yet.

"Jagi, it's so good." he moaned. You quickened your pace, and you knew he was almost reaching his climax when you popped his throbbing cock out of your mouth.

"Uh-uh." You tutted, stopping your actions.

"What? Please, just a little more. I'm almost," he whined, trying to convince you to keep going, but you didn't listen. He didn't listen to you in the first place, so why should you?

You climbed back on his lap, his eyes looking at you with desire and excitement, thinking that you didn't let him cum in your mouth because you wanted him to cum inside your warm, sweet, wet pussy. but little did he know that you were just going to cockwarm him until he finishes the essay.

You slowly sank down, taking him in bit by bit; it was so slow that he was having trouble restraining himself from pushing into you. He was horny and frustrated but still held back so he wouldn’t get punished.

"Shit, jagi. You feel so warm." He exhaled when he was fully inside you.

"Now, be a good boy and finish that essay so you can finish inside me, okay?"

“But I can’t. Please, babe, make me cum, and I promise to focus on this, please.” He begged and buried his face on your neck.

“Why should I listen to you? You didn’t listen to me earlier and within the past few days, " you said, reminding him of the numerous times you asked him to finish what he’d been writing since a few days ago so you could spend time together today. But he didn’t listen, so this is what he’s getting right now. He felt defeated and with a raging boner inside you. Still, he'll take what he can get and decided on all his might to focuss on finishing the last bit of the essay while you were cockwarming him, that is, until you started getting very impatient and horny so you started teasing him by clenching on his cock and letting out small moans. He could not endure it further, at which point he began to thrust into you gently and deeply. His breath was shaky, sweat dripping from his forehead, making his hair stick to his face despite the AC on full blast.

“Ji, baby.” You warned with a stern voice.

“Please, babe, I want to cum. I need to cum.” He pleaded as he bit into your shoulder while thrusting into you.

You wanted to give in, but he wouldn’t learn if you let him have his way. You grinded on his cock, rubbing your clit deliciously on his lower abdomen.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He bit on his lip, trying to suppress his moans.

He was thrusting a bit faster, trying to reach his climax but you clenched snd stopped to edge him, then continued to build him up again until his breaths became shallow, a telltale sign that he was close, and then you stopped again, reminding him to finish the goddamn essay. At this point, he was a little angry and frustrated from all the edging and denial that he couldn’t keep quiet; he gripped onto your hips and started to thrust into you, chasing his orgasm, so you squeezed his cheeks together tightly.

“No cumming jagi or else.” You sternly said.

He stopped just when he was about to reach the point of no return and bit his lip; he was already drooling from being so turned on. His eyes were dilated with tears brimming in his eyes, and his dick was twitching inside you from the constant edging and denial, and you knew from his face that he couldn’t possibly write his essay well in his current state. He was out of it.

“B-babe, please. I want it. I know you want it too, please. I’ll be a very good boy after this.” He pleaded, and you sighed.

“Fine. Since you asked so nicely, my baby boy.” You said and kissed him. His cock twitched again; he was so excited that you finally gave in, and the kiss just excited him even more. He thrusted into you with newfound vigor, hard and fast, not caring for the slapping sounds you made but still suppressing your moans. Heavy breaths and small moans and profanities spilled from your mouths as Jisung carried you to his bed and continued fucking you there. It wasn’t long until his thrusts were getting sloppy, and he came almost instantly inside you. Strings of warm cum coated your walls, his dick pulsating as he released inside of you. Finally, the sweet release he was begging for.

When he came down from his high, he started to go down on you before you could say anything. He deliciously licked his cum as it was dripping out of you, then proceeded on lapping and sucking your swollen clit until you felt your cunt tighten, then contract as you experienced the most explosive orgasm you have ever had which made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You lay limp on his bed, breathless, as he grabbed a towel to wipe his mouth and your pussy before he laid beside you. He kissed you on the forehead before flashing you a dumb smile.

“You think they heard outside?” You asked.

“Who cares.” The both of you laughed softly.

“So, you promised, right?” You said, reminding him of his essay.

“I am a good boy, you know. I’ll do whatever you say.”

“A very good boy, indeed.” You smiled.

✩ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me, and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and interacted with my works, such as comment, and reblog especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡

✩ if you want to support my work, buy me a coffee ☕

- love, jan ♡

© 2024 Chanswhxre

[ladyloveandjustice]

Anime Expo Day 3 Report- Ryoko Kui's autograph!

Saturday was pretty rough. I’d had a relatively easy time before then, the crowds were overwhelming but I could stand them, I never had to line up outside. Saturday was uhhh…yeah not like that. It was extremely hard to get in anything or get anywhere

But first! I got my autograph from Ryoko Kui! She was pretty and looked fairly young and wore her hair short. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, mostly just because it was interesting to put a face to a name. I basically told her that I loved her work and thank you and Marcille was one of my favorites in anything ever (she chuckled when I said that even before the guy translated so I guess she understood me) and for some reason I said I’d been reading for five years. It was such a blur that I can’t even remember her saying thank you (she probably did) I found myself wishing I’d actually asked some kind of interesting question, like if she had any tips on creating such a complex world.

But we got a really cute little sticker to go with our autographs so I'm gonna show off here:

Since the autograph was at 11:00 AM (and I left it around 11:30) and the second Dunmeshi panel was 1:45 and the Barnes and Noble was a half hour away I had a feeling I wouldn’t get in and uh…I didn’t. I really should have sent my Mom ahead of me since she offered but I felt bad at the idea of her having to sit through a ‘Is it okay to pick up girls in the Dungeon’ or whatever panel before the Dunmeshi one. It was honestly just really unfair all around especially since the panel was in a smaller room this time for some reason, with Blue Lock getting the ball room, despite the fact I’m almost positive Dunmeshi is more popular. We did have to line up outside, but at least I took pictures of some cosplayers.

I didn’t get into the Look Back panel either, so I just went to the Crunchyroll Industry panel. If you weren’t in the front you couldn’t read the subtitles on the trailers, so great planning there, guys. Loooots of forgettable shonen but I did get to go crazy when they announced Natsume’s Book of Friends coming to crunchyroll (the other one I got to cheer for was Apothecary Diaries and Witch Hat again).

I did get into the ANN panel which was fun! Some other things happened, but I'll save that for a more private setting (my Patreon). Otherwise, that was Saturday!

[cosmerelists]

Interviewing My Wife about the Cosmere

My wife has not read any Sanderson. However, she DOES listen to me babble about it at all hours, and she does follow this blog. So I thought I’d see what she’s picked up via osmosis about the Cosmere.

Question 1: “What are five things you are sure are true about the Cosmere?”

“Kaladin is very hot and invented therapy!”

“Jasnah is hot.”

“Dalinar is very smoofy and I like him and Navani.”

“Steris is you: she likes lists and is organized and awesome and my favorite.”

“Kaladin’s dad is a jerk and I hate him.”

Question 2: “What is the difference between men & women on Roshar?”

“Men don’t read and women are cooler.”

Question 3: “What is Rlain?”

“That’s the crab guy.”

Question 4: “What is Renarin?”

“He’s the one who leaps off of walls and has a crush on the crab guy.”

Question 5: “Who is Kelsier?”

“He’s the evil guy who is wishy-washy about being evil.”

Question 6: “Who is Vin?”

“The bad-ass lady. I don’t remember what she does but only that she is bad ass about it.”

Question 7: “Can you tell me the plot of any book?”

“The first one: Kaladin is with a bridge company that pushes bridges somehow and they all die apparently.”

Question 8: “Can you tell me about any magic system?”

“They eat metal because it gives them power but they can only use certain ones unless they are the avatar ones but that is rare. There are also ones that have spikes and get taken over by a god. Even though a spike is like having metal inside you so it seems like those are the same.”

Question 9: “Who is Hoid?”

“Hoid is the one who wears Hawaiian shirts and is kinda a dingy but he is always there. Does he even do anything cool? And somehow he got with Jasnah which boggles me.”

Question 10: “Which character is in Fortnite?”

“Uh.....Kelsier?”

Question 11: “What are spren?”

“Spren are like sword fairies and sometimes they get sad and scream.”

Question 12: “Who is Szeth?”

“I got nothing. Is he from Mistborn?”

Question 13: “How did Dalinar’s brother die?”

“I don’t remember. Killed by a lady probably? One of the badass ones. Did Navani kill him?”

Question 14: “How did Kaladin get out of the bridge crews?”

“He saved Adolin and everyone else died.”

Question 15: “Has Shallan ever killed anyone?”

“Yes. Killed her mom and dad.”

Question 16: “Has Adolin ever killed anyone?”

“Probably! He’s a duelist! (off my expression) They aren’t duels to the death?”

Question 17: “Has Navani killed anyone?”

“She  killed the crab lady that she was making logic-sex-brain looks at.”

Question 18: “Has Renarin killed anyone?”

“Probably not. He just likes to fall off buildings.”

Question 19: “Why is there a war between the ‘crabs’ and the humans?”

“The crabs don’t like the magic thing. Like when Navani and the crab lady were trying to figure it out.”

Question 20: “How did Dalinar’s wife die?”

“He set them all on fire.” 

[musings-of-a-rose]

Jump Then Fall - Part 3

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”

Word Count: 3600+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30.

**Shoutout to @VaneMando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

Jump Then Fall Masterlist

General Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

<<Part 2<<

He's coming back. Chucho is bringing Javier back after 6 years. What do I say? How do I tell him he has a son who is already 6 years old? Will he even remember me? Will he want to be a part of mine and Alex's life or will he turn and run?

My mind spirals as I finish drying the last few pans before putting them away. I head upstairs, my brain going through a million different scenarios before I take a quick glance in the mirror. I smooth down my hair and put on a new outfit, a simple summer dress that goes down to my knees, and end up randomly tidying and cleaning the house, never settling on one spot.

I knew this day would come. I guess I just never thought about it specifically. 6 years ago, I was so sure of my choice not to tell him, that I wouldn't want him distracted in Colombia but I wouldn't want him to come home and resent us for forcing his choice. But a part of me, ok a large part of me, feels guilty for not giving him the choice.

I hear Chucho's truck pull up outside and my heart starts beating faster. The truck doors slam and muted voices make their way to the front door. I pick up the book on the counter in front of me and open it, my eyes not taking in a word but I didn't want to look like I was waiting around for them. For him.

"...'m fine. You don't have to b-baby me."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't vomit on the clean floors."

He's drunk. I can tell by the way his words are slurred, his feet thunking across the wood floors in a sporadic pattern. Before I can move, he stumbles through the kitchen doorway, his eyes taking a few moments to focus on me.

"Who are you?"

My hearts sinks a little. I would've been surprised if he remembered me, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.

"Vanessa."

He steps closer to me, his eyes scanning my body before settling on mine.

"Are you fucking my dad?"

"Uh, no. I-"

"Ok, Javi. Time for bed. Vanessa will be here later for you to question," Chucho claps his hands on Javier's shoulders and guides him towards the doorway.

"Ok, ok. I have more questions later, Vanessssssa."

I give him a little wave as he disappears through the doorway. Chucho struggles to get him up the stairs, but eventually the sounds of them arguing disappear and I'm left alone for the moment. I turn around, gripping the counter with both of my hands and take several deep breaths.

He doesn't remember me. Or maybe it's because he's drunk? How do I handle it now?

His eyes, though filled with the drink, held a lot of anger and regret. He's hurting. I can't imagine what he's seen or had to do in persuit of Escobar. Chucho walks back in, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Sorry about him. He doesn't usually get drunk like that."

I wave my hand. "It's fine. I imagine he's been through a lot."

"Still, it's not an excuse to act like an asshole...he's going to be out for a bit but I'm thinking hamburgers for dinner? Something greasy to help that hangover he's going to have."

"Sounds good."

Chucho studies me for a moment. "How are you?"

That's a good question. "I...I'm not entirely sure."

"You need to tell him."

I nod. "Of course. But I can't tell him when he's drunk."

He chuckles. "No, I suppose not. But soon, ok?"

I give him a small smile before moving to get out the ingredients to bake some hamburger buns. Chucho moves to the living room, the tv turning on a moment later. He flips the channel and the news report echoes through the doorway to me.

"Breaking news! Pablo Escobar has just been killed. This is live footage of the rooftop where he was killed by DEA agent Steve Murphy..."

I step into the living room, watching the live broadcast of the rooftops where the outline of a dead man lays splaid on the tiles, other men in tach vests surrounding him. A blonde man high fives someone as the news anchor continues their report. But then it dawns on me.

Javier is not there, finally catching Escobar after 6 years of chasing him. He's here. No wonder he's drunk. What happened?

"Why is Javier here, Chucho?"

He's quiet a moment. "I don't know."

I return to the kitchen, mixing the dough before forming the buns. I can't imagine working for 6 years trying to catch one of the most elusive men, only to be forced away at the very end, not even being allowed to be there for his capture. I'd lose my mind too. I know I need to tell him about Alex, but I also need to give him a moment with this.

But how long of a moment?

-------

It takes 3 days for Javier to come out of a drunken stupor. I hear his bedroom door open as he stumbles down the hall with a groan, the bathroom door closing behind him. I hear a slam from the bathroom, sounding like the toilet lid. I wipe my hands on my apron and head upstairs, hesitating for a moment outside of the bathroom door. I knock very gently.

"Javier? Are you alright?"

A grunt followed by another violent heaving sound answers me. I turn the handle, slowly pushing the door open as the heaving subsides. Javier slumps against the side of the bathtub, his hand moving around to find the handle to flush the toilet. His hair is rumpled, his eyes mostly closed, clad only in a pair of sweatpants. I walk over to the toilet and close the lid, flushing the toilet for him. His hand drops to his lap and he takes a couple of deep breaths.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Do you want help up?"

He cracks his eyes open and looks at me. "You're not my dad."

"That I am not."

He lifts his head, opening his eyes a little more before hissing and closing them, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "The fucking light is going to kill me."

"Well I can't do anything about the light coming in this window. But let's get you back to your room in bed. You'll feel better."

I wait a few moments while he gathers himself, extending my hand to help him up. He squints at me and I roll my eyes.

"Just take my hand. I'm stronger than I look."

He takes it and I have to hold back a gasp as his large hands engulf my small ones, the warmth from the contact sparking all sorts of thoughts and memories. I pull him to his feet and he leans on me as I help him back to his room, pulling back the sheets as he slides in. I pull all of his curtains firmly shut, only using the light from the hallway to see around. Javier settles into bed, groaning a little as he puts his hand on his stomach.

"I'll bring you some water and pain meds."

"Oh you don't have-"

"That wasn't a question."

I head back downstairs, getting a glass of water. I stop by the bathroom again, opening the medicine cabinet and getting out some pain meds. I also pull out the bottle of activated charcoal tablets that Chucho handed me shortly after Javier came home. He said they suck to choke down but they'd really help the hangover. I carry everything to his room, shaking out the right amount of charcoal tablets. Javier sits up with another groan, taking the pills and the glass of water.

"This isn't aspirin."

"No. It's activated charcoal. Chucho said it will really help your hangover. You can't take it with any meds though as it'll just absorb those."

"I'll just take the aspirin."

"I really think you need to take the charcoal."

He looks up at me. "I don't even know who you are why the fuck would I listen to you?"

"Because I just carried your stubborn self all the way from the bathroom after you puked your guts out. I'm just trying to help. Take the damn pills."

He studies me through squinted eyes. "Yes ma'am." He chokes down the pills and makes a disgusted face before drinking several sips of water. "Those taste terrible."

"I never claimed they tasted good. So let those do their work and get some rest. When you're ready, come downstairs and I'll make you something to eat."

He looks at me again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together in concentration. "No really, who are you?"

"Vanessa. Now get some rest."

He lays back and I pull the blanket up, giving him a small smile when I catch him looking at me. I leave the room and head back downstairs, finishing up some of the lesson planning I was doing for the upcoming semester.

A few hours later, Javier comes downstairs, this time with a shirt. Although he only has the bottom 3 buttons done up. I'm not sure why he even bothered with a shirt. Not that I'm complaining. He stands there awkwardly, like he doesn't know what to do.

"Feeling better?" I ask, turning to face him from my stool at the kitchen island.

"Yeah. Those charcoal things worked really well."

"Good. I've never been hungover so I wasn't sure, but I figured Chucho knew what he was talking about. Are you hungry?"

"I uh...I'm not sure," his hand goes to his stomach, his face souring slightly.

I head over to the slow cooker on the counter. "I made some chicken noodle soup. If anything, you can sip on the broth?" I look over at him, his head cocked to the side, watching me.

"Javier?"

"What? Oh soup. Yeah. Sure."

I ladle him a bowl and grab some saltines and set them on a little plate next to his bowl and set it in front of him. I also set down a glass filled with cloudy looking water.

"Coconut water?" Javier asks skeptically.

I shrug. "My mom always gave it to me during and after a cold. Said it gave me back nutrients. I figure alcohol probably takes a fair amount of nutrients from you. So it should help."

"Hhmm. Guess we'll find out." He takes a tentative sip from the cup, licking his lips a little after. "Hey that's sitting alright."

I give him a small smile. "Good."

Before I can move, he grabs my arm and gives it a little squeeze, sending jolts of electricity through me. "Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome."

I sit and pull my planner and books to me, resuming my task of lesson planning. I can feel his eyes on me, like he's studying me. I wish he would find something else more interesting.

"What are you doing?"

I don't look up. "Lesson planning for this upcoming semester."

He takes a slurp of his soup and swallows it. "Teacher? Holy shit this soup is amazing."

I look up at him as he takes another bite, his eyes closing for a moment as he savors the soup.

"Yeah. I'm teaching 2nd grade this year."

"Sounds fun. Seriously, what did you do to this soup?"

"My mom taught me how to cook," My eyes sting and my heart hurts thinking of those memories.

"Well, she did a damn good job."

"Sometimes she got it right."

He looks up at me. "Oh. I'm sorry I touched a nerve."

I wave my hand. "It's ok. I've come to terms with it."

He sets his spoon down, all of his focus on me. His gaze is intense, that little furrow between his brow is back. "You look-"

"Good you're awake, puto. Put some pants on and come help me." Chucho walks in the back door, stomping his boots on the mat outside before stepping in.

"I don't know if I-"

"Come on, son. No more babying I gave you time. Now I need your young bones."

"You sound like a bruja." (witch). But Javier pushes back from the island and starts to grab his plate.

"Don't worry about it, I got it." I stand, leaning over to take the bowl and plate, noticing that he'd eaten all of it. "I have more if you want some."

His dark eyes bore into mine, fanning a flame inside of me. "I want whatever you give me, Vanessa."

SMACK! Chucho slaps Javier on the back of his head.

"What the fuck?"

"Stop flirting and come help me before these chickens run halfway to Mexico."

-------

Chucho and Javier are gone for a few more hours and return just as the sun is setting. I hang up the phone, having had my nightly call with Alex, who is having a blast at science camp. The men kick off their work boots and coats, trudging upstairs to shower.

"Dinner will be ready soon so don't take long!" I yell after them.

Chucho devours the steak I'd made him while Javier opts to have another couple bowls of soup. Before long, Chucho leans back, slapping his stomach.

"Well, I am tired. Gonna get an early sleep. Vanessa? Delicious, as usual. Night, everyone."

"Good night, Chucho."

While he heads upstairs, I start to clean up, Javier immediately moving to help me. I shake my head.

"Nope. I got this."

"I can help."

"Really, it's ok."

"Are you always this stubborn?

"Are you?"

He looks at me before he smirks, but then it's gone just as fast. Man am I fucked.

"I can dry?"

"I appreciate the offer, but really. I'm ok."

"Does washing the dishes relax you or something?"

I know he said it in jest, but now that I think about it, it kind of does. The warm, soapy water calms me down. Gives me space to think.

"Yeah sort of."

He puts his hands up. "Say no more. I don't want to intrude." Did he just wink at me? Javier heads from the kitchen and I hear the front door open, the screen door slapping closed behind him.

After I'm done with the dishes, I dry my hands, thinking. I grab another glass of coconut water and head towards the front door, hesitating for several moments before pushing open the screen. Javier sits on the swing bench, facing out to look over the front half of the farm, a cigarette lit and in between his fingers. He takes a long drag, his lips rounding to blow out the smoke.

"I thought you should hydrate again." I hold up the glass and he turns to look at me, his eyes coming back into focus. He beckons me to him and I walk up, handing him the glass.

"That's a nasty habit, you know," I nod towards the cigarette in his hand.

He shrugs. "You have your relaxing activity, and I have mine." Still, he leans forward and puts it out on the tray he'd set on the arm of the bench. "Come. Sit."

I take a breath and sit, our thighs nearly touching. The air feels electrified, like it's waiting for something to happen. We sit like this for a while, staring out at the cows grazing in the front fields, Javier lightly rocking the swing as he rolls his foot back and forth.

"Thank you for...everything. Taking care of me and..everything." He turns his head to look at me in the light coming in through the windows from the house.

"It's not a problem. Anyone would do it."

He snorts. "Not for me."

"And why not?"

He pauses a moment. "I'm not a good guy."

"Well I know that's not true. You're a great man, Javier." I place my hand on his forearm without thinking, and squeeze. He looks down at where I touch him, placing his hand over mine before looking at me.

"I'm really not. I just..." He trails off, his eyes sweeping over my face. "You...you look familiar. It's been killing me for days."

Well. Now is the time. For this confession, at least.

"That's because we know each other."

His brow furrows slightly. "I had a feeling. From where?"

It still hurts a little that he doesn't remember, even though I know it's a trauma response. Memory loss and PTSD can often go hand in hand.

"You...you gave me a rose, once."

Recognition immediately ripples over his face, his eyes widening, his eyebrows raising a little as he shifts his body to face me.

"Vanessa? From the bar? Right before I left for Colombia?"

I smile nervously. "That's me."

"Summer of new things Vanessa?"

I nod. "Yup. Me."

His eyes are twinkling now, a small smile creeping up his face. "Holy shit! I never thought I'd see you again. It was so hard to walk away from you that morning. The only thing that did it was the fact that the DEA would come down on me hard for missing that flight." His eyes soften the longer he looks in mine and for a moment, we're both transported back to that night, the night he opened up my world.

"H-how are you?" He's hesitant, but his eyes are wide and curious.

"Not bad."

"How did you end up here? I thought you were going back to-" he waves his hand around trying to think. "Austin?"

"Corpus Christi."

He snaps his fingers. "That was it."

Do I tell him about Alex? About being a father? Something inside me tells me to wait. To only surprise Javier with one thing at a time. He's been through so much and the last thing I want to do is pile more on top of that.

"It's a long story but I...got pregnant and my parents..well, they didn't approve. Out of wedlock. Anyway, they kicked me out and I uh, ended up here. Chucho I guess took pity on me and gave me a place to stay. I offered to cook and clean for him which of course he argued against, but," I shrug. "And so I stayed. He demanded I return to college and get my teaching degree I had been working on and he babysat Alex while I did. I owe him so much. My life, basically. I don't know how I'll be able to repay him."

His eyes grew serious. "You're parents kicked you out pregnant?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"That's fucked. Sorry, but it is."

I shrug. "They were the kind of parents that would scrub my mouth out with soap and make me repeat scripture if I had nail polish on so I guess I'm not surprised. I've made peace with it."

"Still. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for another few moments, one weight on my chest lifted but a very heavy one still remaining.

"The dad didn't help?"

Here's your chance, Vanessa. You can tell him now, despite everything. Tell him. TELL. HIM.

"He...He had other things to do."

Javier scoffs. "What an asshole."

I shake my head vehemently. "No, it's not..they were very important."

"More important than knocking up a young woman?"

"I think so."

"I'm sure."

I turn to face him more directly. "What if it was yo-"

RING RING! RING RING!

The phone cuts through our conversation, forcing an ending that I wasn't ready for. Javier attempts to stand but I put my hand out.

"It might be Alex. I've got it."

I feel his eyes on me as I go inside, answering the phone quickly. It wasn't Alex but some automated political message and I grunt, hanging up the phone in frustration. I should go back outside and explain everything to him, confess it all, but I don't. I do peak my head back outside and call his name, momentarily flustered when he looks at me.

"It was some political something."

"I fucking hate those."

"I'm going upstairs. Drink that coconut water." I point to the untouched glass in his hand and he holds it up towards me.

"Yes, ma'am."

-------

>>Chapter 4>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk   

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 11 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 6.1k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Michael was in the psych ward waiting for Dr. Remington to arrive so they could talk about his well-being. He stood at the window, hands on his hips as he looked out. He missed her…he had to admit. It’s been a few days without Y/N and they left it on a bad note and he was sorry. He was in the wrong for his reaction. They were something. Something special.

         A knock came, and Michael turned around to see Dr. Remington coming in. “Hi, Michael. They said you wanted to talk to me.”

         “Hey,” Michael said solemenly. “Yeah, I do.”

         Dr. Remington came in the room and sat down on the bed. Michael sat next to him. “Um, how’s Y/N?” was the first thing he asked.

         Dr. Remington smiled. “She’s good. Worried about you. Paid a few guards to find out where you are. She still thinks you’re in solitary,” he told Michael.

         “Can you let her know where I am? I don’t want her to worry.” Dr. Remington nodded. “I, uh, made this for her,” he said, grabbing the ashtray.

         “An ashtray. Y/N smokes?”

         “She used to. Before prison. I told her it was gross and to never do it again, but it can be like a bowl for like jewellery or something,” Michael chuckled. 

         Dr. Remington nodded, taking it. “I’ll give it to her. Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing.”

         Michael nodded, sighing. “I think we both know I don’t belong here. I don’t remember much about that night, but being locked up in A.D. seg, something must’ve snapped,” he told him honestly. “What I’m trying to say is, I think I’ve had enough of arts and crafts. But that’s your call,” he mumbled but with confidence.

         “And the doctors here do say that you’ve been acting fine,” Dr. Remington added. “However, the problem is that if you don’t tell Pope who burned you, he’s gonna lock you back up in A.D. seg. And after a couple of days of that, you’re gonna be right back here.” Dr. Remington took a deep breath. “You need to let me help you. Not for me, but do it for Y/N.”

         “She’s ok?” Michael asked.

         “You two are in a symbiosis relationship. I don’t know what type of relationship as I know you two will never tell, but I have my ideas and she’s worried about you.” Michael listened intensely. Nodding. “If you want to stay out of the psych ward and see Y/N again, you need to tell Pope who burned you.”

-

It was that time of day when prisoners could socialise; however, Y/N was not interested. Instead, she focused on keeping to herself. She sat on the edge of her bunk, legs crossed beneath her, holding a book that she’d been trying to read for hours now, though the words blurred together on the page. Her thoughts were consumed with worry for Michael.

         It had been days since he got put into A.D.-seg…if he was still there. No news, no updates. Just empty silence. She tried not to imagine the worst, but the ache in her chest only deepened with every passing hour. She missed him – missed their conversations, his touch, missed the way he looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded in this place.

         “How many books have you read since you got here?” a voice said from in front of her cell. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up from her book. Her pulse quickened when she saw him – Michael. He stood at the entrance of her cell, his frame leaning slightly against the door, still recovering from his adventures. But there he was, alive, with a tired but soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

         “Michael,” she whispered, dropping the book and instantly scrambling to her feet. Her emotions surged, crashing against her chest like waves against a cliff. They stood there for a brief moment, eyes locking in silent recognition of everything they’d been through. Relief, love, longing. Everything was there, unspoken but so palpable in the air.

         “Are you going to hug me?” he smirked.

         “Of course I am,” she responded as he took a step into her cell, and he reached out for her. In one fluid motion, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She melted in him, her hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt, her feart pounding in her ears. Her head burrowed into his nape as he held him close.

         “Shh, I’m here,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her head. “I’m here.”

         Y/N pulled away, hand coming up to cup his cheek which had small stubble on it. Her fingers brushed over his lips and he kissed them.

         “Never go away like that,” she mumbled.

         He nodded before leaning down and kissing her. Passionate, desperate, like all the lost time and worry had been poured into that single moment.

         He didn’t care who saw them or what the guards would think. People were already talking. For once, the prison walls around them dissolved, and all that mattered was that they were together again.

         When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Michael rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as if to make sure she was really there, that this was real.

         “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with sincerity. “For everything. For the fight in the cafeteria, being thrown to AD-seg then sent to psych ward–“

         “–the psych ward?” she whispered.

         “I spent my days doing arts and crafts, but I needed to see Haywire to get him to draw the missing map as he remembered.”

         “Who?”

         “My crazy schizoaffective old cellmate,” he chuckled. “It’s the past.”

         “You went on an adventure,” she jested, shaking her head.

         “I did, but I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was scared, angry about the plan and I lashed out on you and you didn’t deserve that,” he explained, his voice low and empathetic.

         Y/N swallowed, blinking back her tears that threatened to spill over. “I was just so worried about you,” she whispered.

         “Did you get my gift?” he hummed, tucking her hair behind her ear and bringing her face up to his for a kiss.

         “No.”

         “Then Dr. Remington is not a good delivery guy,” he chuckled.  “However, sweet thing, we are in a relationship. I want that. I want to be with you. When we get out of here, I want you to come with me and Linc. Panama.”    

         “Panama is beautiful,” she whispered.

         “You’ve been?”

         “No, but I’ve been around there,” she whispered. Y/N looked down. “You’ve been to receiving, right? To get the watch?”

         He nodded.

         “My wedding ring and engagement ring are in there. They are worth a lot. If you can get them, we can pawn them and get money,” she told him. “It’s 14k gold and a huge rock.”

         He heard her loud and clear. That would make a lot of money.

         “Pawning isn’t as easy as dropping off a ring and making money, Y/N. You need ID and then they clear them to see if they’re stolen,” he told her, playing with a strand of hair. “But, we can try.”

         She nodded. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

         He nodded. “Me too.”

-

Y/N sat at the cold, sterile table in the visitation room, her fingers anxiously tracing the edges of the metal surfaces as she waited. The dum hum of florescent lights overhead seemed to echo the tension that had been building inside her for weeks. Despite everything – the escape plan, Michael, the weight of her sentence – today was about something else. It was about severing the last time she had to a past she’d been trying to escape: Sebastian.

         When her divorce lawyer, Mr. Lukas, finally walked in, he looked composed as always. He was a seasoned professional, with salt-and-pepper hair and a calm demeanour that never faltered. He carried a thick manila folder and gave her a small, reassuring nod as he took a seat across from her.

         “Hello, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice even. “Good to see you.”

         “Likewise. What’s the news?”

         Mr. Lukas straightened his glasses and opened the folder, pulling out a stack of papers. “Well, I’ve got an update that might surprise you,” he began, his tone careful. “Sebastian has signed the divorce papers we have served him.”

         Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “He signed them? Willingly?”

         “Yes, he signed them without a fight.”

         Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Of all the scenarios she’d imagined, Sebastian agreeing to the divorce so easily was not one of them. He had been manipulative, possessive and controlling – the type of man who thrived on keeping power over others, especially her. There was no way he would let her go this easily, not without a catch.

         “Something’s not right,” she muttered, more to herself than to Mr. Lukas. Her eyes drifted downward, focusing on the papers in his hands, the lines blurring as her mind raced. “He’s up to something. He always as a plan.”

         Mr. Lukas offered a sympathetic look, clearly sensing her apprehension. “It does seem surprising, given the history between you two,” he acknowledged. “But from a legal standpoint, this could make the process a lot smoother. You’ve been living separate lives for quite some time now and you have no joint assets. It could be a relatively clean break.”

         Y/N nodded, but the gnawing feeling in her gut didn’t subside. Sebastian never did anything unless it benefited him. He was smart, calculating, always one step ahead.

         “But…” Mr. Lukas continued, his voice taking on a serious tone, “there’s one potential issue. Mr. Marino has requested a clause to be included in the agreement.”

         Y/N’s heart dropped. There it was. The problem she’d been waiting for, the one thing that would complicate everything. “What clause?”

         Her lawyer hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Due to your sentence, he has asked for biweekly visitation rights,” Mr. Lukas said, his voice measured. “Here at the prison.”

         Y/N froze, her blood turning cold. “Visitation? Why?”

         “He claims it’s to ensure you’re well-being,” Mr. Lukas explained, his voice tinged with scepticism. “He framed it as a concern for you, wanting to ‘check in’ on how you’re doing. But I think we both know what’s not what this is about.”

         Y/N’s stomach twisted. Of course, that wasn’t what it was about. Sebastian didn’t care about her well-being, he cared about control. Even from behind bars, he wanted to maintain his grip on her life. He wanted influence on her.

         “He just…wants to keep me under his thumb,” Y/N whispered, more to herself than to her lawyer. “He’s never going to let me go, is he?”

         Mr. Lukas’ expression softened with sympathy. “It’s certainly an attempt to maintain some form of control. I’ve seen this kind of tactic before. If we allow it, those visits could be another way for him to manipulate you, emotionally or otherwise.”

         “He signed the papers though?”

         “This is a clause.”

         Y/N thought for a second before nodding. She was escaping soon and Michael promised a life away from the mob.

         “He can have it,” she said with shrug. “However, Mr. Lukas, I need a favour.”

         “And what’s that?”

         “I need you to get a man named Christopher Thomas to make a withdrawal from my bank account. Can you get him to do that?”

         Mr. Lukas nodded. “Of course, and who is he?”

         “My brother.”

-

It was another cold day and Y/N was dressed in layers with her hat on as she leaned against one of the walls with Michael talking.

         Sucre sauntered in, fresh out of solitary as he hugged his cousin. Michael pushed off the wall to walk to him as well giving him a hug before going back to the group.

         “You all can sign each other’s yearbooks later. Where are we at?” T-Bag cut in, ruining the moment.

         “The map is complete. I got what I needed,” Michael announced looking over to Sucre and smiling.

         “Then we’re ready,” T-Bag grinned.

         “Almost.” Michael began to walk a circle back to Y/N. “I know which pipes we need to take beneath psych ward now. Which means our way to the infirmary is clear. With our new route, we’re gonna come up on the fear end of that building.” He nodded towards the building where there was a wire hanging from one side to the wall. “We gotta walk down 30 feet of hallway to get to the doctor’s office. Our exit point. Which means there’s only one piece left to this whole thing. The key to that room.”

         “No sweat. That’s all we gotta do is run a bump and grab on a CO like we did last time, grab the keys, make a copy,” C-Note suggested.

         “It’s not that easy. Only medical staff have those keys,” Michael says.

         “How’re you fixing on getting it then, Pretty?” T-Bag cocked.

         “Carefully.”

         “No more surprises this time, right?” C-Note hummed.

         “Right.”

         Just then Abruzzi appeared, coming off the bus dressed in a yellow jumpsuit and a blue jacket. Y/N scanned him over, seeing his new haircut and looking very much alive.

         Y/N and Michael walked off together to the corner of the yard. His hand found her lower back as they halted. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the prison yard as Y/N and Michael found a secluded spot away from prying eyes of guards and inmates. Michael leaned against the fence, his expression serious, contrasting sharply with the fading daylight. She leaned against the fence, closing her eyes and taking a breath.

         “I think Tweener is a rat,” she said looking at him. “I haven’t told you as you got yourself locked up in the SHU,” she stated.

         Michael glanced over. “Explain.”

         “Lots of questions about you, your thinking, what you’re planning…us. I think he’s reporting to Bellick.”

         Michael nodded. “I figured.” Then he glanced at her and saw her looking ahead. “I need to task you with something.” She glanced back and nodded. “Keys, to the infirmary.”

         Y/N crossed her arms, a mix of uncertainty and determination etched on her face. “What do you mean?”

         Michael took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I need you to get the keys to the infirmary. Dr. Remington has them, and I think he has a soft spot for you.”

         A knot twisted in Y/N’s stomach. “You want me to steal from him? I haven’t stolen in years, Michael.”

         “I know,” he replied, his gaze steady. “But you can do this. You have to play it smart. Pretend you need to see him for a blood test.”

         “Why a blood test?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

         Michael looked at her. “I’m going to ask you a personal question,” he whispered and she nodded. “Have you been pregnant before?”

         Y/N’s eyes bulged and she stayed quiet. “A year ago,” she whispered, “miscarriage.”

         “I’m sorry,” he responded. “What kind of symptoms did you have that indicated pregnancy?”

         “Missed period,” she said. “Nausea but no vomiting. Fatigue. My breasts were really sore and got bigger real fast.”

         Michael nodded. “Then use those symptoms because we are doing the pregnancy card. Make a lie if they talk about sexual intercourse or activity. Drop my name if you have to.”

         “Michael,” she tried.

         “You’re a good actress, Y/N. You know how men act, think, talk. If you can manipulate his emotions, he won’t see it coming. Play up fear and vulnerability. I am here for five years, you’re here for twenty-five, if you’re pregnant, the baby will go into the system.”

         “I’m on birth control,” she argued.

         “Mistakes happen. It doesn’t always work. Plus, you just had it changed, and you haven’t been on it for a while. They lowered your prescription. Chances could be you can get pregnant. Dr. Remington has his figures about us, so it’ll make sense.”

         “Where did we have sex, Michael? We never get a time alone. T-Bag caught us and then Bellick.”

         “Showers. Ever heard of a quickie? Or selfish sex if you want to go down that route even though I’m not a selfish lover.”

         “Ew,” she grimaced. “Ok, I’ll do it.”

         “Cry, Y/N. Have a panic attack. But keep it to your normal demeanour. We don’t want him to think something is up.”

         He came up to her, arm wrapping around her shoulder/neck, pulling her in. His lips came close to her ear. “Play him like a victim. I love you.”

         She nodded, mumbling those words back and pulling away. Michael had done so much for her, she needed to do this for him. For the plan. For the team. For them.

-

Y/N’s heart raced as she stepped into the sterile environment of the infirmary. The bright fluorescent lights felt harsh against her skin, she forced herself to maintain a composed expression. She had rehearsed her words, and now it was time to put on the performance of a lifetime.

         This was life or death.

         Dr. Remington was seated at his desk, reviewing some files when he looked up and noticed her. “Y/N,” he said, his tone a mix of surprise and concern. Her eyes closed, as a tear flowed down and she took a deep breath before speaking. “Are you ok?”

         “Can we talk?” she whispered, taking a step forward as she played with her trembling hands. “It’s…serious,” she stammered, letting the worry seep into her voice.

         “Of course. What’s going on?” His brow furrowed as he stood up and went to the hospital bed and preparing it for her. “Sit down.”

         Y/N did, looking down to the ground before whispering. “You can’t tell anyone.” She forced herself to look vulnerable, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

         Just then, she heard the doors to the infirmary open and Michael was being escorted into the room by guards. He was here for his insulin shot, but as her eyes darted to her, she closed them letting the tears come a little more. Dr. Remington looked over to Michael who was watching her as he was escorted to the room next door.

         “Y/N, what’s going on?” he whispered. “Did Scofield do something to you?”

         Y/N’s head shot up as she shook it. “No, no. Never.” Then she took a deep breath. “I didn’t think much about it. I was feeling really fatigued and then I thought it was the prison food that was making me nauseous, but then I missed my period.” She paused, looking away as if the words were too heavy to bear. “It wasn’t until I felt my breasts being really sore and they are getting bigger that I knew.”

         Dr. Remington’s expression shifted from concern to shock, and she could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Y/N, are you saying you think you might be pregnant?”

         Her heart pounded in her chest as she nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I–I don’t know what to do. I can’t have this baby,” she whispered, choking on her words.

         “Who’s the father? Were you assaulted?” he asked.

         She shook her head. “No, it was consensual.”

         Dr. Remington leaned back. “Scofield?” Her eyes kept darting to Michael who was watching her, doing his own act due to her emotional reaction. Dr. Remington looked at Michael who was trying to talk to the nurse to let him in the room with her due to her obvious distress. “Does he know that you think you’re pregnant?” he asked.

         “Yes,” she whispered. “We talked this morning.” Y/N took a deep breath and then looked into Dr. Remington’s eyes. “If I am pregnant…and they make me have this baby, Matt…” she said his first name. “I have twenty-five years on my sentence. Michael’s…only doing five, but do you think he could get custody? The baby…for five years will be in the system. I was part of the system; I know what it’s like. I can’t have that,” she whispered, voice croaking.

         “Let’s get you a blood test before we jump to conclusions, Y/N,” he said as he got up to get supplies. “We need to confirm if you’re pregnant because with the change of birth control, this can happen.”

         Y/N nodded. “I know my body, Matt. I’ve been here before,” she admitted.

         “Ok, let me get supplies,” he said as he walked over to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before holding her hand. “You’re not alone, but Y/N…you should stop having intercourse in a prison. I don’t even know where…” he chuckled, but then he went silent. “Let’s get you tested.”

         Y/N sat, wiping her tears as Dr. Remington grabbed a needle and other materials for the blood test. Her eyes went over to Michael who was watching her, intensely while they gave him his insulin test.

         Dr. Remington did the blood test and as he was finishing up, taking his gloves off Y/N looked at him.

         “I feel so alone,” she whispered. “Michael, he’s great, but as the only woman and having no other female friends…”

         Dr. Remington sat next to her.

         “I can’t have this baby,” she whispered again, trying to catch her breath but soon enough her breath became short and fast.

         “Oh, Y/N,” he said, rubbing her arm before eloping her in a hug. “You’re not alone.”

         Y/N worked fast, one hand rubbing his arm while the other one went straight into his pocket and grabbed the keys before putting it back in her pocket. She then cried further into his shoulder.

         “It’s going to be ok. We will take the necessary steps once we know the truth,” he said pulling away. “We should have the results in 24-48 hours.”

         Y/N nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Remington.”

         “You’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together. Do you need to sit here for a bit or…”

         “Michael is there…can I?” she whispered.

         He nodded, escorting her into the other room with Michael. Instantly, she ran and gave him a hug, placing the keys into his pocket as he rubbed her back. Dr. Remington watched this, thinking it was all completely real.

         “You ok?” Michael whispered into her ear.

         “I will be,” she responded, keeping up the act, pulling away. Michael wiped her tears, cupping her cheek. “24-48 hours for the results,” she responded. “We will get through this.”

-

Dr. Remington paced the small infirmary, his brow furrowed in frustration. He patted his lab coat pockets again, though he had already done so a dozen times. He checked his desk, his drawers, his car…the keys were nowhere to be found. Beside him, Nurse Katie offered a sympathetic glance as she rifled through the desk drawers.

         “They’re not here,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you sure you had them earlier?”

         Dr. Remington sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes. I had them just before I saw Y/N.” His mind began to replay the events of that conversation – her tears, the trembling voice, the fear of being pregnant. He had been so caught up in comforting her, his guard had been completely down.

         Katie raised a brow. “Y/N? Like Scofield’s girl or rumoured to be?”

         He nodded, the gears in his mind beginning to turn. “She came to me, convinced me she might be pregnant. I…” he paused. “I hugged her.” Realisation occurred. “I had the keys when I entered that room.”

         Katie straightened, her face reflecting the same understanding. “Do you think she…?”

         “I don’t think,” Remington muttered, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I know.” He headed toward his desk, pulling open a drawer with a sharp yank. “I’m going to accelerate her blood test results. If she was lying about the pregnancy… But why would Scofield be involved…?” he whispered.

         Katie frowned. “You think she faked the whole thing just to get the keys?”

         “That’s exactly what I think.” His voice was firm, and without missing a beat, he picked up the phone to call maintenance “Get someone to change the locks. Immediately.”

         Kaite stood frozen for a moment, then hurried off to help as Dr. Remington started running through Y/N’s bloodwork. His heart sank as the results popped up faster than expecting, confirming his suspicions – no pregnancy. His jaw tightened, both in disappointment and concern. Y/N had fooled him, but why? Was Scofield involved? Was it his idea?

         Minutes later, he sat in deep though, Michael entered the infirmary for his scheduled second insulin shot of the day. His usual calm demeanour did little to mask the tension in the air. Remington glanced up at him, his eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion burning at the edges of his thoughts. Michael greeted him with a nod, his face carefully neutral.

         “Afternoon, Doc,” Michael said, rolling up his sleeve for the shot.

         Dr. Remington prepped the syringe silently, his mind racing. As he did so, Michael casually placed something on the desk – keys.

         Remington’s eyes flicked to the keys, recognition instantly firing in his brain. The very one that had gone missing. Before he could speak, Katie entered the room, spotting them. “Dr. Remington, your keys!” she said, picking them up from the desk and handing them to him.

         He took them, his grip tightening around the metal, and stared at Michael as he administered the insulin shot. “Thanks, Katie,” he said, his voice laced with a odd mix of gratitude and suspicion.

         “Also, the maintenance guy is here. Do you still want the locks changed?” she asked looking at Dr. Remington.

         Dr. Remington looked at Michael who stared at him, eyes narrowed. He licked his lips, trying to see if Michael would crack. Then he nodded. “Yes, send them in.”

         Michael went frozen, eyes open as he stared at Remington. The locks would be changed.

         As Dr. Remington pressed the plunger of the syringe, he couldn’t shake the unease settling in his chest. He knew. Michael and Y/N had orchestrated this. His disappointment was palpable, but so was his curiosity. Why did they need his keys? What were they planning.

         As Michael finished his shot and rolled his sleeve back down, Dr. Remington leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering on the man in front of him. “Y/N’s pregnancy test came back negative,” he said.

         Michael’s brows furrowed. “You said they’ll take 24-48 hours to go through,” he said confused.

         “I accelerated them.” Then he scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “You know,” he began slowly, leaning closer to Michael, “there are only a few reasons why someone would need keys to this place.”

         Michael’s face remained calm, unreadable.

         “And then I remembered,” Dr. Remington continued, his voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur, “Y/N is an addict. Dilaudid, right?” Then he smirked. “However, I didn’t take you as the junkie type.”

         Michael’s eyes flickered, for a moment, but Remington caught it. He was not accusing him of anything outright, but the weight of the statement hung between them like a question answered.

         “No, sir. I never have and never will dabble in that.” Michael stood, his tone polite and firm. “Thanks for the shot, Doc. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

         Remington watched him leave, the unease deepening in his gut.

         However as Michael left, Remington called his name. “Do I need to tell Y/N about her test result?”

         Michael stood. “It might be wise as she is quite upset.”

-

It was happening tonight. With Bellick in the hole, they had to leave that night and Michael tasked her one final thing.

         And she feels like she is back in her old habits – fooling, manipulating and ruining the crowd.

         Y/N sat in the infirmary, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Dr. Remington to return with her test results. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the quiet hum of medical equipment did little to calm her. When Dr. Remington finally entered, holding a file in his hands, his expression was unreadable. He pulled up a chair across from her and sat down with a heavy sigh.

         “Y/N,” he began, looking at her with a seriousness that sent a chill down her spine. “Your pregnancy results came back, and I am happy to say that you’re not pregnant. However, you knew that,” he stated, looking up. He placed the chart behind him and then clasped his hands in front of him. “I know what you did and I wonder if you’re honest enough to admit it,” he stated. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been acting – putting on a show just like your file said. I didn’t believe the file, thinking you’re innocent but you’re an actress.”

         Y/N froze, her stomach twisting into knots. “They keys,” she whispered, looking down.

         He nodded. “What are you after? Drugs? Needles?” his tone grew harsher. “Are you falling back into old habits.”

         Y/N looked down. “I’ve been clean for ten years,” she whispered before meeting his eye. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before gaining the confidence. “No. I am not after drugs or needles.”

         “Then enlighten me,” he spat.

         She stared at him for a few moments before nodding in acknowledgement. “Michael, Lincoln and I are breaking out tonight,” she said with confidence, “and I need your help.”

         “What are you talking about?” he scoffed.

         “Michael and Lincoln are getting out tonight and I am going with them,” she said. “Lincoln is innocent. He has been framed. And for me, the longer I stay, the closer to my death date I will be. My ex-husband is out to kill me.”

         Remington sat back, his face pale. He held a hand out as he pinched his nose. “Stop talking, Y/N, for your own good.”

         She ignored his wishes. “I never wanted to involve you, believe me.” Y/N leaned forward, desperation creeping into her voice. “But now you know, and you can help us. I just need you to forget to lock up. That’s all. I don’t need you to do anything else. Just forget.”

         Remington shook his head, standing up abruptly. “Do you realise what you’re asking me? This is aiding and abetting a prison break. I’m legally required to report everything you’ve just said.”

         Y/N quickly stood up, grasping his hand, her eyes wide with desperation. “Please, just listen to me. I know why you took this job. You’re not a man who wants to be part of the system that crushes people. You want to be part of the solution, not the problem. An innocent man is going to die.” Her voice softened, pleading. “That’s why you’re here, in this prison, working with people like us.”

         Remington’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering down to her hand on his arm. “This will destroy my career, Y/N. Do you understand that?”

         Y/N met his gaze, her voice steady. “I’m asking you to make a mistake. Not to hurt anyone, not to steal anything. Just forget to lock up. That’s it.”

         There was a long, heavy silence between them as the weight of her words hung in the air. Dr. Remington’s eyes darkened with understanding as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

         “You’re–You’re getting out of here?” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

         “Yes,” she said.

         His face twisted in frustration. “Everything you’ve done, every tear, touch, word – has it all been a act?”

         Y/N hesitated, the vulnerability in her eyes breaking through the façade. “At first yes, but Matt–“

         “Don’t.”

         “You mean a lot to me as this progressed and I will say that you’re a good friend of mine, but it is killing me that you will never believe that. However, I didn’t know about the plan until I fell in love with Michael and him for me. I can have a life away from the mob, away from Sebastian. I’ve been in this mess since I was fifteen, and if I don’t get out now, they’ll ruin me. The murders. The deals. The crimes. They will pin it all on me when really I was just a good wife.”

         Dr. Remington stood, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He walked to the door, gripping the handle. His face was a mix of anger, fear and conflict.

         “I can give you money,” she said.

         Dr. Remington turned around. “I don’t want your mob money, Y/N. I want the truth.”

         “What truth?”

         “Did you do it? The six murders? The seduction, the hotel. Did you pick up these men in speakeasies across the country and murder them in their hotel bathroom with a knife? The clean cut on the neck and the messages on the mirror with red lipstick, warning them of their crimes? I read your file.” His voice was so sincere, wanting to know.

         “They hurt people,” she said seconds later. “I made sure they’d never hurt someone again.”

         Remington nodded. “You’re asking me to break the law, Y/N.”

         Y/N shook her head. “I’m asking you to make a mistake.”

         “Would you murder someone again if I do let you go?” he asked.

         “It was either my life or theirs. I promise to never touch a knife or a gun again,” she said. “On my mother’s grave.”

         “How much did they pay you for the murders?”

         “Six million for all six,” she said.

         “Where’s the money?”

         “With my brother.”

         “Cash?”

         “Never touched a bank account. It’s dirty money, Matt. I can send you–“

         “I don’t want your money.”

         He grasped the door, the weight of words pressing on him like a heavy burden.

         “Does Scofield know the truth?” he whispered.

         “He knows enough to not get him killed,” she responded. “I love him. I really love him.”

         Remington nodded, opening the door and slamming the door behind him, leaving her there in the infirmary…alone with the truth out.

         The silence that followed was deafening.

-

I tried to edit it.

I was falling asleep.

Sorry for the lack of response.

Enjoy!

Ava <3

-

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@enha-stars @wonuskie @believeinthefireflies95 @esposadomd @peachmartini

[analogwriting]

Childhood Crush

Chapter 11: Zinc

Killer x gn!reader word count: 2.7k a/n: ngl, i rewrote this like three times lmfao next

“You know, when I invited you to stay for dinner, that doesn’t meant you had to make it,” Myra said with a small laugh as she sat at the table with you and her daughter. You were currently serving up some food. “What are these called, y/n?”

“They’re cabbage rolls.” Tell someone you’re missing your brother without telling them that you’re missing your brother.

“They look so good!” Lily was grinning ear to ear. “Let them cool off a little first, then start eating them.” The girl nodded excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Do you have children of your own?” You looked at Myra, shaking your head. “No, I have a little brother. I raised him and his friends were always around too. It was like I was a mother of three from my teens.” You never really considered Killer as one of the ones you raised. If anything, he helped you wrangle them in. 

“Sounds like quite the handful you grew up with.” There was a fond smile on Myra’s face. You laughed, shaking your head. “You have no idea.” You finished serving everyone, sitting down at the table.

You make idle chit chat with the both of them, feeling the best you’ve felt in a while. You didn’t realize how much you craved human interaction until now. You’d been holing up for so long, you were going somewhat insane. 

Myra asked a lot about you and you asked about them. Turns out this was an island of scientists. They had the most advanced medicines and groundbreaking search. They even had a training facility. With an island with as much knowledge as they had, they had to be able to defend themselves. 

“Can I visit the lab?” you asked.

Myra laughed and nodded. “Absolutely. We can go in the morning. Do you need a place to stay for the night?”

“Oo! Can y/n sleep with me! I wanna have a sleepover!” 

“Oh, I’m sure they want to have their own space to sleep, but I’m sure they’d love to read you a bedtime story.” Myra looked up at you, winking. You caught on.

“Absolutely. Whatever you want me to read, just let me know.” You smiled. Lily seemed bummed about not sharing a bed, but she was content with being able to have a story read to her by you. 

After dinner, you went to go tuck in Lily, reading her a book. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep and you headed back downstairs. “She asleep?” Myra came out of the kitchen drying her hands from the dishes. You had tried to do them, but she had shooed you away. “You cooked, so I’ll clean,” she had said.

“”Yeah. Out like a light.” You let out a small chuckle. “I remember when my brother was that little. We didn’t really have story books though, so I just came up with whatever.”

“Sounds like you raised him the best you could.” 

“I tried…” You shook your head, trying not to dwell on things.

“Anyway. Thanks for letting me stick around. I can get out of your hair-”

“You’re staying, remember?”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I’m well aware. But you’re coming to the lab in the morning anyway, so this’ll be the easiest way.” She shrugged, smiling at you. You squirm a little and nod. “O-Okay. Thanks.”

“Would you like some tea? I want to poke your brain a little more. You said some interesting things at dinner that I’d like to know about.”

You blinked, nodding. “Uh, sure. Yeah. Whatever you wanna know.”

Myra and you talked well into the night. You told her some of the things you made and she seemed absolutely interested in everything you had to say. She asked questions when she had them and even seemed impressed with some of the things you accomplished. You were flustered to say the least.

Who knows, maybe if tomorrow went well, you could stay.

--

“Doctor Ziegler! Welcome back!” There was a chorus of greetings as you walked into the lab with Myra the next morning. Turns out Myra was pretty much the head of the whole island. She was the top dog. Talk about insane coincidence. That had to be a sign that you were meant to be here.

Myra showed you around and you were in awe. There were machines that you were seeing that you had never even thought could exist. There was so much you could learn here and from what Myra said, so much you could teach them as well. 

They all had been raised around science while you had to pretty much teach it to yourself. You had more practical methods for some things. You held a new perspective that they were looking for. 

At the end of the day, Myra had a proposition for you.

“What if you stayed here? You could stay at my place.”

You just stared at her in disbelief. You still couldn’t believe this was happening. You were seeing so many amazing things and now this amazing woman was asking you to stay. To help provide them with new insights. 

“I-” You took a deep breath, trying to process it.

A laugh came from Myra. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Don’t feel like you need to answer immediately. You can take some time if you need. I know you’re a pirate n’ all, but I feel like you’d be an excellent addition to our team.” She smiled warmly at you.

“Ah, yeah…let me think about it. I’ll get back to you in the morning.” 

With that, you left. You needed to talk to your brother first and foremost. While you walked back to the ship, you were mulling over your options. Honestly, they were all pointing to staying. You were looking for an excuse to leave the crew at this point. Plus, if you stayed and furthered your own knowledge, perhaps you could finally be of use to your brother. You could make better medicines. Hell, you might even be able to get your arm back. 

For the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful.

--

“Absolutely not.” Eustass wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying, but you weren’t going to let him squash your dreams.

“Bold of you to assume I’m asking.” You glared at him with your hands on your hips. He dropped the box he had with a groan, turning on you. “Bigs, I’m not letting you stay at some random island just cause you want to.”

He glared at you. “You fucking disappear for two days and now you just wanna fuckin’ stay? Leave us? Like hell I’m letting you do that.”

You just stared at him. The audacity of this kid sometimes. “Listen. I’m staying and that’s final. There’s a lot of shit I can learn here. And you guys have things you need to do.”

“Killer!”

“I’m not touching this one, captain. This is all you.”

Eustass cursed at Killer who didn’t even respond, letting him say what he wanted. You sighed. “I know you’re worried. But, I’ll come find you, okay? I’ll only stay maybe a year or two. There’s a lot I can learn from here. I’ll come back with more ways to help out the crew.” 

He looked at you for a long moment. “Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want.” Then he turns on his heels and stomps on the ship. You run a hand through your hair. You weren’t expecting it to end up that badly. You thought that after your last fight he’d be willing to just let you leave.

“Y/N!” You turn around to see Dive, like her namesake, diving off the ship and towards you. You don’t have time to move as she collides into you, but you braced for impact just enough to catch her. “For fuck’s sake, Dive!” 

She just cackled as she hung off of you as if she was some small child. Well, she was shaped like one. She looked up at you, jumping off. “I heard you talking when I was passing.” She frowned deeply. “Are you really leaving?”

You nodded, sighing as you sat down on a box. “Yes. But it’s just for a little bit, I swear.” You smiled at her. She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t lie to me I literally heard you tell the captain a year or two. That isn’t a little bit at all.”

“Well, in the grand scheme of things - that’s not very long.”

“That’s years, y/n! That’s such a long time,” she groaned, flopping onto your lap. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure out something to do. Just…don’t chew on the ship.”

She looked at you, a devious glint in her eye. “If you leave, there’s no stopping me from chewing on the ship.” Your face turned into a deadpan. “I will leave you with nothing to strengthen your teeth if you act like that.”

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. “Mmm, fine. I’ll behave.” She folded her arms and pouted. “Fuckin’ dumb,” she grumbled. “Why do you have to go?” she whined.

You sighed, leaning back on your hands. “Because…” A certain face popped into your mind, immediately souring your mood. “I could learn a lot here. Then when I come back I’ll have even cooler shit for you guys.”

Dive seemed to mull it over. “I still think you’re just fine.” Honestly, you were a little shocked right now. You weren’t expecting Dive to try to get you to stay. Or anyone really. Not from what Kese had said. Maybe he had been lying? Or maybe this was some elaborate plan to keep you on the ship so that Eustass didn’t have to worry.

But you didn’t want him to feel obligated to watch over you anymore. Besides, you had already dug your grave and made your decision. You were staying.

After a few more minutes of shooting the shit with Dive, you headed to your lab to start gathering your things.

While you were packing up your things, members of the crew came to say goodbye. You still weren’t sure how the hell to feel about everything. Was this your brother’s ploy to make you feel bad and stay? You appreciated the sentiment, but you weren’t going to stay. You knew you’d only hold him back. 

Later that night, you’re packing up your things in the lab. You hear a knock on your doorframe. You look to see Eustass, Killer, Heat, and Wire standing there. You fully turn towards them. “Hello?” You’re confused, but not exactly unhappy to see them.

Heat walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug as he lifts you off the floor. You sputtered in confusion for a moment, blinking rapidly as you were processing what was going on. “We’re gonna miss you.” Then he set you down and you looked up at him. You offered a small smile. “I’m gonna miss you too. 

“Be safe, y/n.” Wire was speaking this time in his usual cool tone. You look at him and nod. “Always.” There was a somber mood and this was the calmest you had seen some of them, but you supposed this was also the first time you weren’t going to see them for an extended amount of time in…almost a decade? And you’ve been at your brother’s side since he was born.

“We did make something for you,” Eustass said with a bit of a grimace on his face. It seemed like he was accepting he couldn’t stop you, but he was still clearly not happy about it. At least he was respecting your wishes.

Killer stepped forward, presenting a sheathed knife to you. You looked at the four of them before taking it gently in your hands. “We wanted you to have something to defend yourself on the new island,” Killer said. “Can’t have you dying on us,” Wire chimed in. You laughed gently, a fond expression forming on your face.

“We were gonna wait for your birthday, but…” Eustass dropped off his sentence, folding his arms and looking away. “Someone wants to fuckin’ leave.” He was straight up pouting and it was honestly very amusing.

You took the knife out, wrapping your hand around the grip. It was absolutely stunning. The metal was different colors depending on the lighting and it seemed to have a slight curve to it. Much akin to the scythes you had made for Killer all those years ago. You saw your brother’s jolly roger in the hilt and etched into the base of the blade itself. 

You felt your face soften and tears start forming in your eyes. “You guys are so fuckin’ sweet,” you grumbled, sniffling. You wiped your tears away, putting the blade up and quickly attaching it to your belt.

“We’re gonna miss you,” Killer said. You nodded, looking at all of them. “And I’m gonna miss you all too.” Your brother walked up to you, easily towering you,  and you looked up at him. There was a mixture of emotions on his face, but it seemed he finally gave in. He hugged you tightly - you holding him in turn. 

“I’m so proud of you, Tungsten. Remember that, alright?” You felt him tense for a moment before hugging you a little tighter. You just smiled fondly. Honestly, you were worried what would happen if you weren’t around, but you knew they’d hold their own. After all, how the hell would you protect them anyway? You needed this. All you had done your entire life was take care of them and it was time for you to figure out your own thing.

At least for a little while. 

“Don’t die on us, Bigs,” Eustass mumbled, clearing his throat. You let out a small laugh, pulling away from him and taking his face in your hands. You grinned widely. “You should know it takes a lot to kill a roach like me.” He stared for a moment before letting out his own large grin. “Fuck yeah. That’s right.”

“Just make sure none of you die on me, okay?” you said, stepping back and looking at the four of them. You placed your hands on your hips. “I swear to fuck that if any of you die - I will personally bring you back and end your lives myself, got it?” You narrowed your eyes at them. They all just laughed at you, your own smile spreading across your face.

You felt…at peace right now. You weren’t thinking of Kese or the things he said. You were starting to think he was wrong but…this was something that needed to happen. Your brother needed to be able to grow without you. They all did. And you needed to be able to do your own thing.

One by one, they filed out until Killer was the only one left. “It’s nice to see that spark of life in your eye again. I just wish you weren’t leaving for us to have seen it again.” You blinked, feeling your face warm up. You didn’t even realize how much you had changed yourself.

 “Listen…” You looked up at him as he spoke, tilting your head to the side. “Hm?” 

“I…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Be careful, yeah?”

You blinked. It seemed like he had wanted to say something else, but you were letting it go. You smiled at him. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll come back to you guys in one piece, alright?” He nodded, quickly leaving after that.

That was weird.

--

After saying their goodbyes to you, they all bid you farewell. As the ship sailed off, everyone was waving and yelling their sentiments to you. Eustass was standing with his usual three people. “So…did you tell ‘em?”

Killer tensed but deflated, earning sighs from the others. Heat and Wire walked off, throwing their hands in the air.

“Fucking hopeless,” Eustass said with a shake of his head.

[scienter]

My thoughts on Wind and Truth Chapters 10 & 11:

I had a crazy thought a few days ago, but now I don't think it's so crazy.

Is Syl the author of Knights of Wind and Truth?

I reviewed the Wind and Truth epigraphs released so far and the one from chapter 2 caught my attention:

 “I first knew the Wind as a child, during days before I knew dreams. What need has a child of dreams or aspirations? They live, and love, the life that is.” – From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 3

It reminded me of something Syl said in Oathbinger:

Syl walked up to him in the air. “They’re like I remember them.” “Remember them?” Kaladin whispered. “Syl, you never knew me when I lived here.” “That’s true,” she said. “So how can you remember them?” Kaladin said, frowning. “Because I do,” Syl said, flitting around him. “Everyone is connected, Kaladin. Everything is connected. I didn’t know you then, but the winds did, and I am of the winds.” “You’re honorspren.” “The winds are of Honor,” she said, laughing as if he’d said something ridiculous. “We are kindred blood.” “You don’t have blood.” “And you don’t have an imagination, it appears.” She landed in the air before him and became a young woman. “Besides, there was … another voice. Pure, with a song like tapped crystal, distant yet demanding…”

And in chapter 10 Syl appoints herself as Kaladin's scribe?? 🤨

I think Syl is the author of the epigraphs. That's my new theory.

Anyway,

Chapter 10: I loved everything about this chapter!

Kaladin followed Syl into a section of the tower with lower ceilings. They had to stop flying and walk, and soon entered the scribes’… uh, supply depot? That wasn’t what they called it, but Kaladin of course couldn’t read the sign. Scribes didn’t have a quartermaster. Storms, what did they call the place? A long, low-ceilinged room full of bookcases and puttering ardents, bald heads reflecting the glowing lights embedded into the stone. The scents of paper and hogshide leather filled the air.

So basically:

Syl bobbed right up to the counter. “Do you have my things?” She waved at Kaladin. “I brought a pack human.” “A what?” Kaladin said.

LMAO. Kaladin is Syl's "pack human."

"She squinted at Kaladin. “You’re not going to teach him to read it, are you?” “What if I did?” Syl said, going up on her tiptoes and projecting confidence. “Dalinar reads.”

DO IT, SYL. TEACH KALADIN HOW TO READ.

“What is it?” Kaladin said, flipping through the pages. “The Way of Kings,” Syl said. “Your own copy! I got it for you, since I’m your scribe.”

Syl got Kaladin a copy of The Way of Kings . . . 🤔 Now why would she want him to have that book? Does she think Kaladin will find Nohadon's writing useful as Dalinar's heir? And how does Syl even know about that book?

Btw - I love that we've come full circle with that book.

Syl leaned forward conspiratorially across the counter. “I could never figure out why these humans were so shy about the spot between their legs! Strange to my uncultured spren mind. Then I figured it out! Must be something pretty ugly down there, for everyone to be so afraid to show it! The ugliest thing I know of is a chull head. So when I made this body, I put one there.” woman stared at Syl, and seemed to be trying very hard not to look. “… Chull head,” the woman finally said. “Chull head,” Syl replied. “Down… there.” “Down there.” Syl held the woman’s eyes with an unblinking stare, before adding, “I feed it grass sometimes.”

I love how Syl loves to screw around with people.

“Do you even exist?” he said, saying it before he thought through the words. “Under the clothing? I mean, are the clothes your skin, or…” She leaned toward him. “Wanna see?” “Oh, storms no,” he said, imagining her vanishing her clothing right there in the middle of the book-quartermaster depot-place, fully visible to everyone. Or perhaps worse, just to him—to make him blush. Storms, she could do that at any time, in the middle of a meeting with Dalinar. She’d probably find it as funny as sticking his feet to the floor. One would think, after all this time, he’d have learned to keep his storming mouth shut. “Still wondering how much detail I have, aren’t you?” she said, leaning up against him. “No,” he said forcefully. “You’re going to find a way to embarrass me. So no.” She rolled her eyes. “We are as we were imagined, Kaladin,” she said. “Basically human—but with certain enviable improvements. You can assume that if a human has it, I do too—unless it’s icky.”

I picked up shipper vibes from this interaction. Although I don't ship Syladin, I'm not opposed to it either. A romance between them wouldn't be the worst thing to happen. Syladin is preferable to killing either character. Just saying.

“Look,” Kaladin said, “you need to talk to someone about your problems. Not me; I’m just some stranger. But find someone. Talk. Grow. It’s worth the effort, all right?”

Yes, Brandon! Give us more of this! I love therapist-Kaladin. It suits him so well.

“I assume,” Kaladin said under his breath, “most book-quartermasters aren’t so terrible.”  “Wait, what did you call her?” “Um… book-quartermaster? Who works at the scribes’ supply depot?” “The head librarian,” she said, “at the library?” “Oh, right. Yeah, that’s the word.” “You are absolutely adorable sometimes.

BOOK-QUARTERMASTER!? 😂😂 Oh, Kaladin. Syl's right. You are absolutely adorable sometimes.

CHAPTER 11:

For while the contest of champions was to happen in the East, a different contest was to happen in Shinovar. And one that the Wind swore was equally vital. Perhaps more so. —From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 8   

Oh, really!? The stuff going down in Shinovar is more important than the contest of champions? Well, I feel justified in giving Kaladin's storyline disproportionate attention. lol

“You have learned substantiation? I thought your kind had forbidden that skill.”

Shallan’s using forbidden skills, huh?  That tracks. I wonder why it's forbidden though . . .

 “I said reality could be what I imagine it to be, but I don’t actually want that. That would be… terrifying…”

Yes, Shallan. Yes, it would be.

“This device points to something far in the distance. Something the Sibling called ‘the Grand Knell, source of the Current, the death of a god.’ ”

And Gallant is bonded to a musicspren?? Hm.

“That spren…” Adolin said. “It was familiar somehow. Its eyes… I’ve seen it somewhere before…”

. . . is this musicspren, Sureblood? I can’t recall Adolin interacting with a musicspren before.

I wonder if the musicspren are connected to Roshar’s rhythms or the flute Wit gave to Kaladin.

“That’s thousands of assault troops,” Adolin whispered from inside his illusion. He righted Gallant’s saddle after handing off his greatsword to one of Drehy’s squires. The scabbard was gone, and the equipment boxes had been knocked free—Adolin grimaced as his hand lingered on the now vacant saddle hooks. “They have patrols watching to make sure no one spots them,” Shallan said. “It’s a secret strike force.” “They’re sailing straight for Azimir,” Drehy said. “Storms… they probably came all the way from the Horneater Peaks, and the perpendicularity there. They must have been planning this for months.” “Agreed,” Adolin said. “Drehy, you have to get us to Azimir as quickly as possible.”

Uh-oh. Aren't Kaladin, Szeth, and Syl stopping at Azimir before arriving at Shinovar? I guess we know when Kaladin will be picking up the spear again . . .

[grapefiesta]

Because I know you're a Menace

Henlo! I have brain rot so I wrote about bby

Hobie's friend patching him up and joking around

A/N: changed it to second pov! (and also some minor things)

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You woke up due to an aggressive knocking on your window. It was obviously Hobie. If not… then.. well, shit. He must have forgotten something, but when you peeked through the window, you saw nothing but the alley behind your flat.

"Open the window!" From outside came his voice in a quiet tone. You couldn't really make out what he said but guessed, that he wanted you to open the window (if you think about the pounding earlier).

"No fucking way… it's like 11 in the mornin'," you whispered, groaning when you heard his voice. "This bloody guy.."

You walked over to the window in your room. (It was basically a door for Hobie, considering how often he crashed at your place and came in through the window).

You opened the window and had a peek outside in search of the familiar sight of either Hobie himself or his spider-punk mask.

Hobie was sitting on your windowsill. He was wearing his Spider-Punk suit, But it was dirty, and his mask was torn and ripped.

"Hey." He said quietly, his voice laced with pain, and you could see it hurt him to talk as he winced.

"I forgot my coat last night. Would you be a dear and throw it out?" He asked, his British Cockney accent still present as ever.

You facepalmed. "You absolute mug. Have you fought this early in the morning? I can see you're in pain. And your suit looks absolutely soiled!"

Hobie rolled his eyes playfully, trying to make the situation less serious. "Shut up, yeah? It's a look, and you know it." He grinned, trying to play up his smug look. But he couldn't do much after that, because of his injuries.

"What? You expect me to let criminals get away?" He chuckled. "Besides, they had it comin'." He added with a small shrug, wincing a bit at the burning sensation of his shoulder.

You puffed out some air. You were about to lose the plot. "Get your dingy ass inside." You said whilst pulling him by the arm through your window and closed it.

Then you went to a drawer where Hobie had left some spare clothes. -Ah, he truly didn't deserve such a lovely best friend.

You shoved the clothes into his arms. "Go take a shower, mate."

He grunted. "I'm bloody fine, you sod." He said incredulously. Yes, he had been attacked the night before and this morning, but he was responsible for keeping the streets safe. It was just part of the job.

"I can't believe I'm taking orders from you." He muttered, grunting and wincing at the pain.

"You calling me a sod, you git? Move before I make you leg it," you said with a bit of a pissed-off undertone.

He snorted. "You could never make me leg it. I'm Spider-Man. Come at me." He grinned at you, still holding onto his clothes that you shoved into his arms. He was obviously trying to be funny, despite being injured.

You then climbed out the window to the fire escape of your flat. "Uh-huh. Sure thing, Spidey," replying from the fire escape you waved him off and read a book.

After about ten minutes, the shower turned off, and Hobie came out in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair wet and sticking to his face and reaching his shoulders, now that his wicks were soaked with water.

"Better?" He asked and approached the window.

"Yes. Let's get your wounds, plural, tended to now." You climbed back into your room, where Hobie stood by the window, and pulled a first aid kit from the nightstand drawer.

He looked down at the first aid kit before looking back at you.

"Yeah, all right. Get on with it." He muttered, leaning against the wall.

You shook your head and took Hobie by the shoulders. You led him to his usual patching-up spot, made him sit on the bed and began your usual routine of tending to Hobie's wounds.

Hobie sat down and winced as you pulled out the medical supplies. He remembered all the other times he had sat on the bed like this and got patched up by his best friend. You were merciless and rough with him most of the time, annoyed at his carelessness. When he thought about this he once again realised that he definitely didn't look forward to this.

When you finished patching him up, you gave him a little pat on the shoulder.

"What would you do without me?" you joked.

He smiled before chuckling. "Probably get killed by street thugs, honestly. But that's a story for another day." He chuckled again.

"What would you do without me?" He tried to get a reaction out of you.

"Probably get more sleep and patch up a less reckless Spider-Man, perhaps someone from another universe? Someone like Pav?" you didn't bite. Instead, you teased, mentioning the name of a friend Hobie had mentioned.

"Oh, shut up. You know you like patching me up." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You have a thing for me, and we both know it. Admit it, love." He grinned, teasing them.

Flicking his nose lightly, you giggle at your usual back and forth. "Sure I do."

A dramatic gasp of pain escaped Hobie when you flicked his nose. He rubbed the spot and snorted. "That hurt." 

"Now you're picking on me? I don't know if we're friends or enemies anymore.” His face was serious but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that let you know he was only joking.

"Those are just labels. I thought you disliked those?" you continued to joke around.

He groaned but then laughed. "You're unbelievable."

"Is this the beginning of my villain arc?" He asked jokingly.

"Seems like it, innit?" you grinned and sat beside him on the bed.

"Would that make you the hero?" He asked, grinning at you. "I don't think it would fit. Maybe you're the annoying little assistant." He pretended to be deep in thought, and then he looked you straight in the face with a grin that reached his eyes.

"Because I know you're a menace; the role's perfect for you." He joked, trying to stifle a laugh.

You used your shoulder to nudge him with a grin, "Oh shut it, you love it."

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[sanjisluvbot]

ISEKAI YANDERE STRAWHATS X BLACK FEM READER PT 11

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

“ Y/N-ya we always talk about your situation, but we never talk about your world”

“ My world?” You emphasized.

“ Yeah, tell me about it. Honestly I’ve been curious since it must be so different than here”

“ Well, in my world the year is 2023 and there are no pirates who sail the seas to find treasure. Uh, there are these things called cars and we use them as transportation through cities and what not.”

You told Law all you could, about the advancement of technology, art, video games, medicine, comic books that he would like, and his eyes never left yours once. The sky was now a light blue and the sun shined through the trees giving you a soft morning glow.

Law was admiring you as you spoke. You smiled as you told him all the little things about your world and your life back home. You were a beautiful person through and through. He liked that your world was so different and had things he’d never even imagined before.

“ Y/N do you think I could visit your world as well?” The sudden question from you made your eyes grow wide.

Imagine Law in your world?

“ That was something else I’ve been meaning to tell you about the Strawhats… they’ve figured out how to get to my world. That’s honestly why I’m here right now”

“ Really?”

“ Yes, remember I told you that when I first got here, I had only been here for two and a half weeks before I figured out how to get home. I had written all my theories and strategies on a sheet of paper Nami gave me and put it under the book shelf in her office.”

“ Why did you hide it there?”

“ Well I couldn’t hide it in the girls room, they would’ve easily found it there. But obviously I didn’t hide it well enough because Robin was the one to find it.”

“ Smart woman”

“ Too smart sometimes…”

The camp was now in view and to both of your surprise the crew was up already building things and reading maps. When they noticed the two of you, you were given a very warm welcome ( especially from Bepo ). You both were given breakfast and you were all happily sitting together at the table.

This feels so different than being with the Strawhats. After my first week with them everything went to shit. Even though I haven’t known the heart pirates long even their vibe is different.

“ I have an announcement” Law declared. Everyone’s eyes trained to him, you were happily sipping on orange juice before it sprayed onto the now orange tainted fur in front of you.

Law decided to tell the crew you were together. It was like you were an actual character in the show the way you reacted. You coughed before looking into Law’s eyes and he was smiling devilishly.

Bastard, he enjoyed that too much !

His announcement rose multiple questions, It seemed to be a silently agreement that you wouldn’t mention that it was a relationship formed out of convenience and you both answered all of them before the door to the camp was struck open. The entire crew of the Strawhats was standing there in all their glory. The silence was deafening until a cunning woman spoke up.

“ I see you took my advice- quickly at that. Congratulations Law.” Nami smirked.

The crew filed into the kitchen and Luffy was first to walk up to you. “ Y/N, we need to save Sanji why are you messing around with another Captain”. He snapped. “ We haven’t even discussed the plan Luffy.” You replied.

He huffed through his nose before grabbing your arm and dragging you out your seat. You pushed him off and stumbled backwards to be caught by Law. The tension rose, both crews were now on defense and Zoro was first to take out his sword.

“ Traffy.. I think it’s best you let our crew mate go with our captain.”

“ I don’t exactly see why all of you are behaving this way towards a crew mate.”

“ Y/N let’s go now, we can meet up with Trafalgar later” Robin warned.

This fear had somehow became familiar to you now, they all had that same look in their eyes. If you don’t come now something will happen. You looked at Law searching his eyes for an answer before he grabbed you waist spinning you to face him. He then took your face in his hand softly and kissed you.

Gasps were heard throughout the room and he pulled away. You were starting at him wide eyed and held a subtle smirk as he looked towards the Captain and Vice Captain.

“ Is it wrong for me to spend time with my girlfriend?”

That seemed to be Luffy’s breaking point. He stretched his arms and roughly dragged you out of Law’s hands and firmly commanded his crew to follow behind him. You were struggling against his grip, he was wrapped around you so tight you could hardly breathe.

Law tried to reach for him but Zoro was too quick, he almost cut Law’s hand off but it’s too bad Law is up to par with Zoro in terms of strength.

“ Strawhat.”

Luffy stopped in his tracks not turning around.

“ Is this how you want to break off our alliance? Is that a smart idea?”

“ I never said I was breaking our alliance, I just don’t like people stealing my crew mate” he grumbled.

After that the Strawhats left leaving the Heart Pirates and their captain to ponder their next steps. They could all see the fear and worry on Law’s face even if it was just a small twitch in his eye.

You continuously struggled in Luffy’s grip as you walked through the forest and when he finally let you go you pushed him away from you.

“ What are you doing Luffy ! You just ruined your alliance with Law”

“ Are you really worried about the alliance or are you worried about not seeing your little boyfriend?” Zoro Interrupted.

You gave him an incredulous look before rolling your eyes and continuing to walk the same way as before back to the Minks. Upon arrival Carrot jumped into Luffy’s arms while Wanda looked worried. She could see that the crew was stressed and she didn’t know what to do, she was hoping the cheerfulness of Carrot would lighten up the mood when the bell was rung again.

It was as if a lightbulb was lit in your head, this was when Jack came back for revenge. The island shook and everyone was stumbling around, Zoro snatched you and ran towards one of the huts.

“ Y/N do not leave until one of us comes to get you !” He hurriedly spoke.

“ What am I a baby?”

“ It’s not even that it’s-”

“ Yeah sure whatever”

He let out a deep sigh before placing his hand on his sword and looking at you. “ Y/N why do you make everything into a fight?”

“ Me? I’m really the issue to all of you? Wow it can really never fail huh”

“ Nobody is saying you’re an issue, but why do we have to fight all the time when we all Lov-”

“ It’s as if all of you forget how I’ve gotten here in the fuckin first place ! And love? You think THIS is Love !”

Zoro’s eye twitched, the air between the two of you was thick and although the ground rumbled and screaming was heard nothing had mattered in that moment. All Zoro could see was fury and pain behind your eyes. They were glossed over and your hand was balled into a fist.

It hurt him to see you like that, he loved you more than you could imagine and he was doing everything to prove that to you. But you ended up with Law… His eyes were hardened again and he stepped closer to you.

“ Of course you think like this Y/N… That silly captain has been scrambling your brain hasn’t he?”

“ How is this conversation about Law?” You laughed.

“ How is it that you are with Law when you told everyone that you were just friends?”

“ Listen I don’t have time for this right now and neither do you, just get out and go help the minks” you turned away from him and say on the bed waiting for the door to slam shut.

Instead Zoro stormed over to you and turned you to face him. You were in utter disbelief, he looked like a mad man. His face was flushed down to his neck and he had a death grip on your shoulders.

“ Zoro…”

Slowly but surely he closed the small gap between you, your hand was on his chest but you didn’t have any strength to push him back. Suddenly, he kissed you hard and fast and you bumped foreheads in the process. His hands moved from your shoulders to your face and although they were rough with calluses this was the first time he had been so tender and soft with you.

He was holding you so delicately, to him you were a faberge egg. Your hand stayed out on his chest till he pulled away and that’s when things started to speed up to pace.

Oh my god I just cheated on Law.

The panic was clear on your face and Zoro reached out to comfort you. You slapped his hand away and a subtle frown made it’s way to the usual indifferent face of the swordsman.

“ Zoro I don’t know what you’re trying to do but, I’m dating Law.”

“ But who is your protector? Who looks out for you? Who is your drinking buddy? Shall I go on Y/N?”

“ My protector? The one who looks out for me? Zoro when I got on the Sunny after two years you put me in a choke hold until my eyes rolled into the back of my skull. When I came to you looking for someone who can help me, YOU said you didn’t have an answer to satisfy me !” You barked at him standing up from the bed.

“ Listen I can apologize for what I didn’t a million times, I’ll do whatever you ask me Y/N but when I told you I had nothing to satisfy you it was the truth. I can’t go against my captain for you— for anyone, you fuckin know this.”

You were both yelling at this point. The rumbling and roaring of Zunesha was absolutely nothing compared to you and Zoro right now. You were in his face and his cheeks were red, you pushed him into corners and he would pull you closer. At some point words stopped being spoken, it was now hands and rough kisses.

The net was made and the ships were now being brought back into Zunesha, Making the net worse Robin out so she was sitting on a stump when Ussop handed her a drink.

“ Thank you”

“ No problem”

Robin being the intelligent woman she is she was quick to notice the hesitancy of the boy in front of her. It was like the words wanted to jump from his lips but they were sealed shut.

“ Sit with me, Nami went with Wanda to get snacks she e should be here soon” She said patting the other side of the stump.

He sat gingerly and looked off into the distance, the silence was peaceful and he was finally able to muster up some confidence after a few minutes.

“ Robin I’ve been meaning to ask you about something’s you know like, Sanji, Law, and Y/N of course”

“ Ask away”

“ Well for starters, I can’t believe they are actually together they told literally everyone they were just friends.”

Robin giggled at his shock, “ People become great liars when they need to hide things. You of all people should know that well”

“ That’s true but, don’t you think this is a scheme as well?”

“ Yes. I wholeheartedly do think the two of them together is not just a completely innocent innocent relationship. However, we can’t just say that to her we already lost her trust completely”

Ussop hummed in agreement and Y/N flashed through his mind. She was the only crew member who he could truly relate to, not to mention how kindhearted you were when you first met. You played with him and his best friends, helped him with his inventions, and took care of his garden with him.

I’m his eyes you resembled Kaya, you were both so gentle with him and you indulged him even when others didn’t. You were also pleasing on the eyes, whenever you would go shopping with Nami you’d both bring back full bags of clothes with a multitude of accessories. When you wore anything you stuck out like a wild flower growing in a field of daisies.

“ Robin, Ussop !” Someone called out.

That broke him out of his trance, he turned to see Nami, Wanda, and Momonosuke holding drinks and food making his mouth water. When all of them settled down Nami brought up Sanji.

“ What are we going to do? Why would Big Mom even want him?”

“ I’m sure it’s nothing to truly worry about Nami” Wanda intervened rubbing her back trying to soothe her.

Law had been watching and listening to them speak from the Mini transportation snail he planted on Ussop earlier. When they were going through chaos it was easy to place one inconspicuously, he knew it would be a good idea considering the conversation they’re having right now.

Law was leaning on a tree, Bepo was blocking the view of him so he can’t hold the transportation snail to his ear. While doing this he noticed that you and Zoro were coming from the direction of the huts. You found his eyes and gave him and awkward smile and a wave before your eyes trained back to the ground.

He raised an eyebrow but chose to ignore it for now, you would address your issues with Zoro to him later. Right now he needed to form a believable plan to you to Wano and not stuck on Whole Cake Island.

You were lost in thought, what had you really just done. Would Zoro keep quiet about it? Or will he try and ruin your relationship on purpose?

“ Zoro… this can never happen again”

He picked his shirt up from the floor and gathered his fallen swords not saying a word to you. You sighed as a migraine was now forming. “ Zoro are you just gonna ignore me now?” You nagged.

“ Y/N why do you play with peoples hearts?” His voice trembled as he stood up.

Your face contoured in absolute bewilderment. “ Play with people’s hearts?? You know, I know I was wrong for kissing you back but you were the one to start this in the first place !” When he said nothing in return you let out a joyless chuckle as you continued.

“ Zoro, I have never played with your emotions, in fact I made it clear I was uncomfortable with you and upset when you first told me you couldn’t help me when I thought I could really trust you.”

You angrily walked up to him turned him around to face you, Zoro doesn’t get to turn his back to you, he doesn’t get to blame his emotions and actions on you. “ You’re acting like a fool, I’ve always held you in such high regard even before we met. You have never acted this way in front of everyone so why are you doing this with me? You don’t know me as well as you or the rest of the Strawhats thinks. That’s exactly what makes my entire situation even crazier, none of you actually know me to have such an infatuation-”

“ You just don’t Fuckin get it”

“ What the fuck is there to get? Quickly”

“ I- We-” he scrambled for words before you took him by the cheeks and pulled him to your face.

“ This isn’t about the crew, this is about you don’t say WE”

“ Y/N let me go” you pinched him harder making him hiss. He’s not getting out of this, he needs to be honest with you.

“ You keep blaming me and making me out to be this irrational stupid woman, you can’t even be honest with yourself and your fuckin emotions. But you want to kiss on me and touch me when the only one who can do that is Law!”

“ Okay well Law doesn’t Love you like I do” he boomed.

🏷️ @herwritingartcowboy @axulaphie @toshirolovebot @futmblr @rhicambo

A/N: Hellow everyone, what do you think about the chapter? What will happen to Law and Y/N’s blossoming relationship now that she is basically messing with Zoro while they’re arguing? Look forward to the next chapter I’m gonna make it extra long for you 🫶🏽 hope you enjoyed <3

[kerubimcrepin]

Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 2]

TOME 11

We go, we steal, we leave… I don't want any trouble, Remington, got it? Wohaa, as if… I'm telling you, we steal Beating Heart and that's it.

The way Luis is drawn in this comic is so cute, sorry...

Very intrigued by the books standing on top of a flowerpot standing on top of a stool, the random kettle on the floor, a blanket half-covering an unidentified fucking object, more books, and what seems to be a bell, or a bottle, standing on the floor.

Kerubim and Atcham seem to have been away for A While. And Joris doesn't like to clean.

Make less noise when you walk. If we wake the guy up, meow to make him think a cat got into the home. Uh uh.

This idea is so stupid for so many reasons, both ones Remington and Grany should know, and ones known only to us... It's kind of admirable.

Also I still can't get over how fucking messy Joris is. Either it's his depression, his ADHD, or Kerubim's Upbringing that made him that way. Man...

Anyway,

Do you remember where it was stored? Don't worry. Here it is!

THE RANDOM ELEPHANT FIGURES?? I bet they're Keke's... Also, once again, many, many books left everywhere. He's insane.

Come here, you. What was that? No idea… You must have moved something that fell.

While I wish it was Luis, it's actually an unrelated monster under Bonta that will be a big problem in the next issue of the comic.

Come on… let's go! Yes… that was indeed the talking bow meow… who was transformed by a certain Ush.

The way he's talking about them here is so science-y. As if whether they would come or not was like an experiment to him. It's so funny.

Also, Pupuce!!!!! My beloved Pupuce. <3

My instincts tell me to go hang out in the slums for a while. If only he could stay there...

LMAOOO.

Once again, I am grateful that Ush's weird and creepy relationship with cats (albeit... sentient cats, at least) was retconned into a more positive one in season 4 of Wakfu. I still think it's fucking weird, but it certainly makes him funnier as a character.

Ush hates Bump, and it's really like... "my noble sentient catfucking (while i myself shapeshift into a cat) vs. your creepy and barbarous panty collecting."

Hello, you may call me Joris, I would like to meet the noble Ush in order to ask him a few questions about a rogue and a bow meow that... Master does not accept visitors. ??

THIS IS SO FUNNY. THE WAY HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF?? The way this guy closed the door. God...

Also, his cunty little hand on chest thing.... I CAN'T.

Mhh, very well… Let's see. Mhm... If anyone knows where the beating heart is, then that person is here. YYAAAAHH!

LITTLE GUY!!!!!!!!!!?? YOU SWAG TOO HARD. I CAN'T DO THIS AYMORE. His pure and beautiful whimsy... He's so happy to be running... Like a gazelle.

YAAH AH AH!! Anyone? And who're you? We're prisoners… Get us out of here, I beg you. D'you know a rogue and his bow meow brother?

Y'know, this page does haunt me a little. Because he's so, so informal here — and kind of insane too. HE BRINGS OVER A STOOL TO TALK TO TWO PEOPLE ACTIVELY BLEEDING OUT, JUST TO TALK TO THEM WHILE MAKING EYE CONTACT. After that, no vous/vous for them, and when they ask for help, he's like "yeah no, first tell me — do you know that guy who wronged me?"

I'm obsessed with him.

Do I know them? Of course, I know them. You could even say I'm here because of them. They talked about Ush, that's why I came. You get us out of here, and we'll help you find them. Oki-doki... cross my heart! But you'll have to find the key to open it. A key? To close things it might be necessary, yes, but not to open. You're small but mighty, I say!

While I think Joris is a good person and would have helped them even if they knew nothing, I do think that asking about Remington before he freed them was a way of subtly suggesting they help him in return.

Love the way he says "oki-doki"... this 600yo man and his multitudes...

Also, Joris can bend metal. Now imagine him chained up and just... casually breaking the chains, once he's done pretending to be trapped. No wonder Ush needed dragon slobber to restrain him.

He's a bit shaken up, but he should be fine… Stop that… I'm going to puke.

Beautiful.

This reaction Ush has to this huge-ass thing goes out to the Ush fans among my readers.

[catiecat1320]

Chapter 7 of 11! (Seven Eleven heheh) [MasterPost]

Read Below🔽

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Shadow’s ears twitched at the sound, well before he even realized he heard it. Groaning, he lifted his head in response, brain still foggy from sleep. “Eh?”

He was on the couch, he realized, rubbing his sore neck as coherent thoughts trickled back in. He must’ve fallen asleep while reading again.

Tap. Tap. 

“Coming, coming!” He shouts to no one in particular. Standing up, the book that sat forgotten in his lap thudded on the floor, splaying spine-up messily, eliciting a wince from the owner. With much more care, Shadow picked it up, straightened the pages and lined it up with the other of its series on the coffee table. 

The relentless tapping continued, and it was only then that he realized it didn’t sound like the wood of his door. 

His head snapped to the window much too late, only to see the emerald eyes of someone he would’ve never expected peering back at him. “Sonic?” 

The door was open before he registered he’d moved, the awaiting star outside giggling at his mindless haste. “Heya, Shads! Had a nice nap?”

“What? You… How are you here? D-did I ever give you my address?” Shadow stuttered, ignoring Sonic’s question. “You know what, I’m not going to ask. You’re here. What for?”

The idol only grinned cheekily, patting Shadow’s shoulder as he slipped past and into the house, never dropping the gaze he had locked on to the host. It was as if he was waiting, but for what Shadow didn’t know. He felt a little dumb, standing there with no idea why someone was in his house. Was he supposed to do something?

He… doesn’t remember how to act with guests over.

“Well? You gonna close the door?” Sonic said, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Right. The pianist reached behind him and fumbled with the doorknob, completely off put by how nonchalant his visitor was. It was as if Shadow was the one that randomly showed up in the middle of the night to a house that he shouldn’t have known the address to in the first place.

“So. This is your favorite place, huh?” Sonic threw himself onto the couch, head swiveling like an owl’s as he drank in the sights of the little house. “Pretty neat,” he muttered, sinking into the cushions, “Cozy, too.”

The more he talked, the more Shadow just… stopped working. “W…why did you come to my house again? Just to see it for yourself?”

“Ha!” Sonic sat up, smirking. “Tails was driving me up the wall— which, mind you, are pretty small in a RV— so I decided to stretch my legs and take a run ‘round the ‘hood.” He looks smug, holding his fingers up to his face like one of those girls looking at their nails, despite wearing gloves. Why did he wear gloves all the time? Shadow quietly stowed the question away for the next Q&A. “I also left my watch, so he’s probably worrying his guts out right now.”

“That…” seems a little too far. But it wasn’t his place to judge Sonic’s actions, and it’s not like he knew the context of the situation, so, “...doesn’t answer my question. Why my house?”

“Oh. Uh… would you believe me if I said I just happened to see you through the window?”

The look on Shadow’s face probably told him more than enough. “Um. Well, I was thinking of you. And I was thinking about my favorite place in the whole wide world,” the idol admitted sheepishly, scratching at his cheek. “I thought that maybe I should show you.”

“It’s nearing midnight. You could’ve come tomorrow.” Shadow pointed out. But he was curious now, his words holding no edge to them. What was so special that it would warrant this sudden visit?

“But now is the best time to see it!” Sonic argued. “Come on, you’ll understand when we’re there!”

“Alright, alright,” Shadow grumbled. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

“Okay! Make sure to wear comfortable clothes. It’ll be quite a hike to get there.”

………………………………

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” Shadow muttered, trying to hide his unease. He didn’t usually go out this late after dark. Trailing after Sonic was easy enough, he supposed, but he’d really appreciate it if he could get a sense of direction. He would’ve appreciated it even more if they’d just taken his bike, but that was beside the point.

He doesn’t recognize this part of town. Whether it was the night messing with his senses or just a new route, he didn’t like it. The ominous lighting of the shielded streetlights didn’t help, especially not when the one down the corner was flickering like mad. Sonic didn’t seem to mind at all though.

“We’ll be there soon,” he assured. “It’s in the one and only Emerald Park. I loved running through that place when I was littler, but there’s a special spot that I call my favorite.”

“Emerald Park?” Shadow recognized the name. He’d been there when he was a child, too. But those memories had been left behind, fading with age. The most he could remember was Maria’s awestruck face as she exclaimed something he couldn’t recall, the green canopies above throwing cooling shade over her golden hair.

“Yeah.” Sonic stopped, and in the dark Shadow made out a plaque declaring their location. He was starting to have second thoughts… more like third thoughts at this point. Should they really be here at this time of night? 

A sudden warmth enveloped his wrist, and Shadow swore his heart nearly tore out of his chest. It was only when he yanked back and Sonic toppled into him with a yip that he realized it was just the other hedgehog’s hand.

“Oh! Oh, Chaos, I’m sorry,” he stammered, the cool nighttime air doing nothing to hamper the sheer embarrassment that lit his face, not helped by the fact that Sonic was now in his arms. The dancer only laughed, however, straightening and wrapping his fingers around Shadow’s wrist again. 

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll admit that this place is pretty spooky in the dark. Man, I missed it so much.” 

“Should we really be here?” Shadow breathed aloud, just to be sure, to which Sonic huffed. No verbal answer was given, and the musician found himself being led through the open gate onto worn trails. Whether that was a yes or no, he didn’t know.

He was blind now, metaphorically and nearly physically. The shadowed trees that towered over them blocked out the moon, and there were no artificial lights to speak of. Almost like a scene in a horror movie… yet despite that, the usually unnerving sights didn’t get much further than slightly raising his heart rate, adrenaline doing a fine job in activating his senses. 

He was putting so much trust into Sonic, he realized. There was every chance that the idol could do something or lead him somewhere dangerous, intentionally or unintentionally, and he would be powerless to stop it. Not out here, as much of a wilderness as he’d ever been. Yet somehow, Shadow had complete faith that nothing would go wrong.

Somewhere, sometime, Sonic had started idle chatter. Of course he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was quite endearing, the way he could go on about nothing of importance with so much excitement. “...You’re gonna love this place, I’m telling you; I’ve been all over the world, probably seen everything at this point, but nothing beats this place,” he gushed, “not even those really cool landmarks everyone’s heard of! Those are honestly overrated. Or, or— I’m getting off track, hah. We’re nearly there. Anyway, I don’t think I’ve shown anyone besides Tails, so you’re lucky, Shads.” He paused along with his sentence, with Shadow stopping just a little too late, bumping into the hedgehog in front of him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, silently cursing his clumsiness.

“No need to be!” Sonic assured immediately, pressing closer. Too much closer. Almost touching faces closer. “Stay close, okay? We’re gonna go off the trail. Step where I step so you don’t trip.” He shifted his hand down, intertwining fingers with Shadow.

“Wait, wait, what?” The pianist stumbled, but Sonic had already set off, headed in between inconspicuous trees and taking Shadow with him. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered back. “I know this place like the back of my hand. We won’t get lost.”

“I… okay.” And immediately, Shadow’s foot caught a stray root, sending him tumbling into the idol. The two landed on top of each other, both surprised and one embarrassed. 

“Sorry, sorry! Gosh, I’m such an idiot.”

Sonic laughed, untangling himself. “It’s okay. It’s easy to slip up here. I’ve done it even after years.” They helped each other up, did a quick once-over for complications, and started again.

The dancer took more care to lead this time… which involved holding both of Shadow’s hands. His cheeks were probably glowing with how much heat circulated there— he felt like a baby learning to walk, stumbling over his own two feet while Sonic stepped backwards, all confidence and grace, only occasionally sparing a few glances into the darkness behind him.

“We’re almost there…” the guide murmured after what felt like forever. Something flicked into Shadow’s face, making him cringe. He was sure he’d gotten several scratches from all the branches clawing at them. This better be worth it. 

“Prepare yourself…”

They entered a clearing, and Shadow couldn’t help the shrill squeak that came out of his mouth at the sight. It was as if all the breath had been sucked out of him, held captive by what lay before him.

It… it was heaven itself.

High above, stars like he’d never seen swirled around the full moon, bathing all in holy silver. The drop of a steep cliff gave way to a sprawling landscape which he recognized as the quiet nighttime Green Hill, dotted with the occasional light but otherwise inky black. If he looked closely, he could see the sky reflected in the lake, as if a portal had opened on its glassy surface, beckoning the curious to slip into a dream. 

Nearer to himself, grass tamed only by Mother Nature swayed in the gentle breeze, tickling his pant legs. Overhead, trees shifted and rustled, reminding him of their ever-reaching presence. Fireflies darted here and there, flashing their own lights to compete with the twinkling stars. 

Oh, it was a feast for the eyes, a secret paradise, a whole living fairytale, and right beside him, the blue hedgehog that opened the door to all of this, wearing a knowing grin as he let Shadow soak it all in.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Shadow couldn’t agree more.

A gentle tug redirected his attention to the one holding his hand, guiding him further. The two settled in the grass blanketing the ridge, letting the moon shine peace onto them. 

“When… when did you find this place? How?” Shadow couldn’t help but ask once he finally found his voice. It was magical, really. Exactly the kind of place you would expect Sonic would call his favorite.

The dancer looks wistful for a second. “When I was barely a teenager, reckless and really, really eager for freedom. I don’t sleep easy, and that combined with an adventurous streak led to me stumbling across this place. It just… called out to me, I guess.”

Shadow watched as he fell backward, coming to a rest on his elbows. Pale in the starlight, Sonic’s face tilted to the swirling sky, his smile like a crescent moon. “This is where I feel most inspired. There’s… there’s a magic to this place, I’m telling you, and I was thinking you might feel it too.”

It certainly looked like Wonderland, but he got the feeling that Sonic meant “magic” literally. In which case, he wanted to shout that the idea was ridiculous. Magic wasn’t real. 

…But at the same time, a part of Shadow was compelled to agree, or at least try to understand the thought.

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

The pianist winced at the comment. But when he started to say something, he realized that Sonic wasn’t looking at him, or anything at all. Blue eyelids lay shut, a neutral expression pasted on his face as he breathed deeply, focused and detached at once. The words Shadow meant to say died in his throat. 

A moment later, a soft smile graced the idol’s lips and he whispered something too quiet for the other to hear. Sonic stood up and brushed himself off, stretching, leaving Shadow completely and utterly lost, still. 

He felt like he was interrupting something, something he couldn’t yet understand. But then glittering emeralds snapped over to him, partnered with a cheeky yet confident grin. Sonic offered a hand and he took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. His expression was more than likely the opposite of the idol’s, layered with confusion and curiosity, a desperate plea to know what the hell was going on.

Shadow’s silent inquiry was met not with an answer, but a demand.

“Let’s dance.”

[mvshortcut]

Hi, Milk!! I wanted to give you some options, so here you go! I hope you are doing well and that this is fun for you. If it isn't, then please don't finish! I don't want it to be a burden <3

11. "They shouldn't treat you like that."

16. "You were calling out, in your sleep. You said my name."

21. "Oh, love. What have you done to yourself?"

26. "You're allowed to need help."

43. "Why haven't you been eating?"

48. "Don't touch me!"

And for characters, in no particular order: Mr. Benedict, Milligan, Rhonda, Sticky, Kate, S.Q., Curtain, McCracken, Sharpe, and Crawlings. Show or Books, it doesn't matter :)

read on ao3 here

tw for stress-induced eating issues!

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

Damn Milligan and his observational skills. Rhonda scratched at the back of her neck but did not look up from the map she was pouring over. “Eating? I’ve been eating plenty. What are you—”

“Now, I was here two days ago, and I remember what the pantry looked like then,” Milligan said casually. “The news of Mr. Benedict and Number Two’s kidnapping arrived the morning I left. So… let’s see here …” He moved past Rhonda into the kitchen and tugged open the pantry door. Rhonda winced.

“It isn’t what it looks l—”

“The candy jar is almost empty,” Milligan noted. “That wouldn’t have been your doing?”

“Oh no, I thought for sure I hid it well enough this time,” Rhonda moaned. “No, that wasn’t me.”

Milligan nodded and rifled through some boxes. “The chocolate bars are gone … but you prefer those granola craisins, don’t you?”

“I’ve been known to have a chocolate bar here and there,” Rhonda said futilely. Even as she attempted to fend off Milligan’s suspicions, she still was reserving half of her attention for marking key areas on the map of Stonetown on the table before her. “Now let’s see … if the pigeon needs to fly to the east to return to it’s roost, then it would take approximately—”

Milligan opened the freezer. “Oh, lookie! The three bags of dino nuggets are gone!”

Rhonda groaned. “I made her a shepherd’s pie! It took me an hour, too! But she wouldn’t—”

“Believe me, I know,” Milligan held out a calming hand. “She’s not going to want to eat anything with peas in it when her whole world has been turned upside down. It’s more important that she’s eating something, at the very least. Which brings us back to you.” 

Milligan raised an eyebrow. Rhonda groaned.

“We both know you’ve been vegetarian for years,” he said gently. “You didn’t eat any of those dino nuggets, did you?” Rhonda looked back at the map and made some more marks with her pencil. 

The silence grew and grew.

“I had some crackers,” Rhonda blurted.

“Uh-huh.”

More silence.

“How many crackers, exactly?”

Rhonda swiped at her eyes without looking up from the map.

“Hey. Hey.” Milligan was across the room in a second. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just see you working and worrying yourself into the ground. It does no good. Do you think I’d get anywhere on my missions if I didn’t eat?”

“No, you’d fall off a roof and brain yourself,” Rhonda hiccupped.

“Exactly. And you’ve got quite the noggin up there—” he rapped her skull playfully— “so let’s get it some food, shall we?”

Rhonda gestured helplessly. “The map—”

“—can wait.”

“Mr. Benedict and Number Two can’t!”

“And five minutes spent eating a slice of lasagna won’t make a difference, Rhonda.” When she still looked skeptical, he cracked a weak smile. “C’mon. Do you really think Number Two would be upset if you took time out of your day to eat? Or Mr. Benedict if you took a few hours to sleep?”

Despite herself, a tiny grin tugged Rhonda’s face at the thought of her family.

“Exactly. Now, my friend Moocho Brazos has arrived—you’ve met him? Excellent—and let me tell you, he is quite the cook. He tends to make too much, especially when he’s stressed. As the host, I think it’s your responsibility to help him out and eat some of the extra plates he’s put together. What do you say?”

Rhonda glanced one more time at her map, then nodded.

“Good. I’ll bring it up to you when it’s ready.” Then, something mysterious came over Milligan. He put his hands on his hips, drew himself up taller, and wagged a finger at her. “And don’t let me catch you neglecting your health again. Understand?”

“Yes,” Rhonda replied automatically, bemused. Milligan nodded and turned to go.

“That’s a new voice,” she called after him. She heard his footsteps halt in the hallway, then patter in reverse on the carpet until he arrived back in the doorframe.

“Pardon?”

“The Disappointed Dad voice you just tried out on me.”

“Oh,” Milligan said, flushing. “That. Yes. Just something I’m working on.”

“I see.” Rhonda’s lips twitched.

“Yes, well, I’ll need it when I finally catch up with those rascals in Portugal, so…” Milligan’s chest puffed out a tad. “Was it … y’know… any good?”

“No.”

Milligan nodded as if he’d been expecting this. “Ah.”

“But keep trying though.” Rhonda smiled—really smiled—for the first time in days. “I’m sure you’ll get it soon.”

“Right. Just gotta keep workshopping it,” Milligan nodded to himself. He still looked abashed but nevertheless attempted a snappy salute. “Lasagna delivery in ten.”

[fishiecomics]

Beastober 17: Meal

Season 2 camels fic under cut~

Prompt list Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16

Fishie sat on the floor of the camel’s house, fidgeting with the bottom of her new jacket. There was still work to be done to make the place feel more like home, but for now: it had walls, it had a floor, and it had windows. It was better than anything she’d had before the games, but that wasn’t relevant to what was currently on Fishie’s mind.

She watched as Dingo fiddled around the furnaces, engrossed in whatever her hooves were working on. She said she’d make them both dinner, but Fishie wasn’t sure what could really be done with just the handful of potatoes and salmon. Last season Fishie hadn’t been able to make anything extravagant with what they had. She was in charge of food since Kiki was the one handling caving, so everything they ate just got the job done. Simple bread and cooked cod with the occasional well done steak or mutton if they really needed it.

Dingo suddenly looked over and Fishie quickly looked away. Was she being weird for staring? Did Dingo not like being stared at while she worked? Fishie stared down at her lap. They hadn’t talked that much yet, which was fine. The season literally just started after all, but there was a bit of awkwardness in the air. They were enemies last season, Dingo literally blew up her husband. Well, ex-husband. Death did them part, those are the rules as far as Fishie knows. So while she still definitely loved him and wished he was here with her, that’s just how the things work. She thought it was strange how not angry she was at Dingo about it. She remembers being absolutely devastated about it when it happened and vowing revenge, but for some reason, the fire just wasn’t there. Was it because Dingo died in the end? She didn’t know.

Fishie looked back up to see Dingo still staring, the hog quickly returning to her work when they locked eyes. Was this awkward for her too? Fishie coughed into her knuckle and spoke up.

“So, uh. Do you like cooking?” There was a pause before Dingo responded.

“Yeah.” Dingo stated, not looking away from the food she was starting to plate.

“Cool. Cool.” Fishie scratched her cheek. Where could she take the conversation from there? Does she ask about her favorite food? Or is that too boring? What if she asked about what she made for her allies last season? Or was it a bad idea to talk about last season considering their history?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt something on her lap. Her new dog had rested his snout on her lap, begging to be pet. Fishie smiled, giving the boy what he wanted.

“You like dogs?” She looked up to Dingo walking over with two plates of food.

“Oh, yeah, they’re cool.”

“Nice.” Dingo knelt down and handed Fishie a plate, then joined her on their jungle wood floor.

“We’ve got to get some chairs set up in here tomorrow.” Dingo leaned back against the wall, setting her plate on her lap.

“What, you don’t like eating on the floor?” Fishie retorted while stopping her dog from gobbling up her food.

“I mean, I can. But it’ll probably be easier to eat without your dogs gnawing at your plate.” Fishie sighed and put her plate down.

“Alright, c'mere you little shit.” Fishie picked up her unnamed dog and set him in the corner next to her other dog.

“You two will get food later. And probably names if we’re lucky.” She’d wanted to do more fishing later. Last season it got her that sharpness book that she didn’t get to use that much, but she hoped she’d have a better go-around this time.

“Do you have names picked out for them?” Dingo asked.

“Maybe, there was a book I read as a kid that mentioned “The Dogs of War” so I might do something with that.”

“You read a lot?”

“Yeah, hobby of mine during uh. The before times.”

“Ah.” There it was again, back to the awkwardness.

Fishie wandered back next to Dingo and picked her plate back up. Now that she wasn’t distracted, she could look at the food in front of her. The salmon was practically glistening while the potatoes’ fluffy insides were bursting out of their skin. She hadn’t seen food prepared like this before, let alone thought it possible in the games. She cut off a part of the salmon and put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened and she immediately started stuffing more of it down her gullet. She could hear Dingo chuckle to her right.

“Taste good?”

“Mhm, ‘s good!” Fishie felt a bit of spit fly from her mouth. She stopped and covered her mouth.

“Sorry, sorry.” Fishie sputtered out. Dingo laughed.

“It’s fine, I’m glad you like it so much.” Fishie could see a glint of pride from Dingo’s eyes.

“I don’t know how you did this with what we had to work with.”

“I have my ways.” Dingo said coyly. “Just wait until we get the cows going. Then we’ll really be on our way to flavor town.” 

Shoving a piece of potato down her throat, Fishie suddenly felt a little more excited about the coming season. 

[tamurilofrivendell]

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 13

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan​, @rebleforkicks​, @yjrevolution​, @majahu​, @honey-wine​​ ​, @accio-boys​, @achromaticerebus​, @solomonssimp​, @tired-ass-show-girl​

His eyes held you in place as you lifted your gaze to meet his own, finding yourself both too scared and enthralled to look away. There was a softness in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before, though it was so slight that you wondered if you were just imagining it. You swallowed thickly, doing your best to gain control once again. “I--I’m sorry.” You began. “I just-”

“Sorry for what?”

Truthfully, you did not know, and it showed on your face if Thranduil’s briefly amused expression was anything to go by. Colour crept into your cheeks and you stood quickly, remembering to bow just slightly before you turned to the door. “I will leave you to rest...”

“You like to read?” Thranduil’s voice came again, as you were at the door, reaching for the handle.

Turning, surprised, you nodded. “Uh, yes... I... actually, I love to read.”

Thranduil stared at you for a long moment, looking as though he were thinking very hard about something. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was but then he was moving, pulling himself into a sitting position and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Your eyes widened as the sheets fell, bunching around his waist, and he reached for a shirt on a nearby wall hook. He was undressed beneath the sheet and your gaze took in his broad shoulders, travelling down his torso as though outwith your control entirely. When his gaze flickered back to you as he moved to stand, you immediately forced your body into a spin, cheeks burning as you stood staring a hole into the wood of the door.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there like that but eventually you became aware of Thranduil lingering in the space behind you. He reached out a hand and you visibly flinched, unable to help it. He hesitated, pulling his hand back and sucked in a soft breath, releasing in a sigh. He had frightened you terribly, he knew that. He eyed you for a moment before he moved again, his fingers grasping the door handle, pulling it open. “Follow me.” He said, face a marble mask once more, as he stepped past you and out into the hall. Clutching the book like a lifeline, you followed, legs feeling like they were full of lead. Was he going to lock you up again once and for all?

The silence was deafening as you trailed after the King, keeping up with his long strides as best you could. Everyone you passed bowed to their King, glad to see him better, before continuing with their tasks. You were either looked upon with mild curiosity or ignored and you weren’t sure which one you preferred. When you finally paid more attention to your surroundings than to Thranduil’s long legs, you recognised the hallway and you came to an immediate halt.

Thranduil continued to move, completely unaware for a few moments, before he realised you were no longer behind him. He turned, frowning, a deep flicker of irritation flashing across his face. Why did you always have to make things so difficult? He glowered at you for a long moment before his eyes followed your wide gaze and he realised what the problem was. You were staring at that ruby red curtain at the bottom of that forbidden staircase. Thranduil’s shoulders deflated just slightly and he bit back another sigh before he took two long strides back towards you. “You have nothing to fear.”

You, on the other hand, were panicking beyond belief. Your mind had convinced you that Thranduil had brought you back here so he could finish what he started when you’d gone up there before running away into the forest... you had gone where you weren’t allowed to go and you were the reason he had gotten hurt by those orcs, he probably couldn’t wait another moment to punish you properly. He was going to shout at you, hurt you, lock you back up...

When his deep voice reached your ears, you turned to look at him, meeting his gaze. Where you expected to see steel, you saw something a little softer in his expression, this time definitely real, and it surprised you.

“Please.” He said, gesturing behind him to a door that was hidden away, tucked right beneath the staircase. “I only want to show you something.”

After another long moment during which you hesitated, wondering whether you could run fast enough to hide from him, you nodded and took a step forward. You tilted your chin, holding your head high and your shoulders back, doing your best to look like you weren’t scared in the slightest despite knowing that your reaction had already given it all away. Thranduil hid a smile at that... it was admirable.

Truthfully, he had felt a little... guilty... about what happened when he found you in the West Wing. He had been so angry. When Thranduil was angry about anything to do with his late wife he sometimes had a habit of acting before thinking. He knew this and everybody else knew this too - not you, of course. The topic of his wife and her fate and his grief was forbidden in this realm and had been since she died. Still, he had scared you beyond what he had truly ever intended and put you in danger. He’d immediately followed your trail into the woods that night in case you ran back into any spiders. You were his prisoner, yes, but the Woodland Realm treated their prisoners well enough... unless they were orcs, of course.

He had been surprised when you had not turned and fled with his horse after the orcs were slain, instead helping him return to the palace. He had been surprised when you had stormed after him into his quarters, insisting on tending his wounds. He had been furious with you that night but the guilt had already started to bubble its way slowly up to the surface so he had found himself indulging you... to his detriment, yes, but that was his own fault. He had also heard almost everything that happened while he was unconscious, though waking up to you at his bedside reading to him was incredibly unexpected.

Why you were there, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out and he didn’t plan to spend much time doing so, but he decided you were probably deserving of a little kindness in return... especially if you were to be here for the rest of your life. Thranduil was not one for apologies in a situation such as this, not really, so this was as close as you would get for now.

He pushed the door open and moved inside, waiting for you to follow. He watched your face as you stepped into the room, watched the way your eyes lit up as sheer awe carved itself into your expression. Thranduil had led you into the largest, most beautiful, library you had ever seen in your entire life. The ornately carved shelves reached towards the high ceilings, each one full to bursting with books. More books than you had ever seen and would ever have hoped to see. You had only ever dreamed of being able to look upon so many books, let alone hope to ever read this many.

Your village had no real library and only the smallest selection of books was available to you. You had read and reread your collection over and over, reliving the same stories and relearning the same information as the years passed. Your father had traded for a new book every so often, when he left to do trade with other villages, but that was all. What you were looking upon now was beyond your wildest dreams.

Suddenly, you remembered Thranduil, and you turned. He was watching you and you suddenly felt a little embarrassed. You shook your head and gestured to the room. “This is... it’s incredible.”

Thranduil inclined his head slightly, letting his gaze drift from you and around the room briefly. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was standing tall, proud, every inch the King you remembered but somehow not quite as harsh. “You may use it as you see fit.” He said, glancing back in time to catch the surprise flicker in your eyes. “Come here whenever you wish.”

Without another glance at you, he turned and strode from the room, disappearing back down the corridor. The door clicked shut behind him and you were left standing there, stunned.