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prettyboykatsuki · 9 months

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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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sleepy-steve · 2 months

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@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask.

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map.

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans.

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste.

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process.

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

#BETTER LATE THAN NEVER LMAO #i wrote most of this while sleep deprived and hungover so like. if you see a typo. no you didn't <3 #saying everything except the things they want to say my beloved #cira writes #cira writes steddieangstyaugust #steddieangstyaugust #sobbing sunday #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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onlyangel4 · 2 months

Text

cindy lou who. cs55. op81. SMAU. final part

request: Can you do a lando x reader or Carlos x reader based on the song Cindy Lou who by Sabrina Carpenter

in which carlos moves on but you couldn't. when you do move on you realise he didn't move on as much as you thought he had

warnings: angst. cursing. five year age gap with carlos. for this i am just pretending the the hungarian gp did not have all of its issue and it was a normal win for oscar, pls let me be delusional.

part one

y/ninsta posted a story tagging alexandrasaintmleux and charlesleclerc

written: happy anniversary to my favourite couple in the entire world. thank you for looking after me when things went to shit a year ago. i will never forget the kindness you both showed me. i love you both.

y/ninsta

written: celebrating love with my favourite people tonite!

f1updates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 150,321 others

f1updates: charles and alex are throwing party to celebrate their anniversary so of course the biggest advocate for their relationship y/n y/ln is in attendance. this is y/n's first time attending a driver based event since she broke up with carlos sainz just over a year ago. carlos and rebecca are also in attendance. awkward.

view all 10,902 comments

user1: go on y/n show him what he fumbled

user2: welcome back y/n the kids missed you

user3: she is so fucking hot

landonorris posted a story

written: third wheeling at an anniversary party. i am so fucking single.

f1wags

liked by user5, user6, user7 and 128,092 others

f1wags: carlos sainz and rebecca donaldson were pictured in a heating argument out in monaco. this comes a week after the entire grid met to celebrate charles and alex. sources said the couple looked solid then but now it is a very different story. rebecca and carlos have unfollowed each other on all social media and rebecca is no longer wearing her engagement ring.

view all 2,928 comments

user6: so there starts being runours about oscar and y/n and then this happens. umm.. suspicious

user5: y/n i stg if you go back to him i will track you down and kill you myself

user7: i hope to god that our y/n keeps her composure and leaves him in the past

f1wags

liked by user8, user9, user10 and 210,921 others

f1wags: our jaws are on the floor. y/n y/ln has arrived at the hungarian gp. she arrived alone but people did see her rush over to alexandra saint mleux. no one knows what garage y/n will be in. but here at f1wags we have our fingers crossed for mclaren.

view all 721 comments

user8: i swear to god if she is here with carlos. babe it has been over a year, forget about him

user9: y/noscar nation rise

user10: the fit oh my god wag y/n is so back

y/ninsta

liked by danielricciardo, fernandoalonso, alexandrasaintmleux and 912,321 others

tagged oscarpiastri

y/ninsta: guys my boyfriend just won his first gp and i am sobbing in mclaren hospitality. i love you with all my heart osc. you have made me so fucking proud my love.

view all 19,021 comments

oscarpiastri: i love you so much. you are the best lucky charm to ever exist

y/ninsta: stop, you'll make me cry again

danielricciardo: that's my boy

y/ninsta: no mine

fernandoalo_oficial: if this one hurts you like the other one did i will kill him

y/ninsta: i'll tell him that

alexandrasaintmleux: everyone say thank you alex and charles for introducing this couple

y/ninsta: thank you darling

oscarpiastri: thank you for introducing me to my girl

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kettlefire · 1 year

Text

Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea

Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:

Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.

Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.

A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.

Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.

Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.

"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."

Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.

Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.

"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."

Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.

"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."

There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.

"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."

Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.

"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."

Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.

"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."

Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.

"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."

Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.

"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."

The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.

"Da... We... Help... They..."

Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.

"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."

Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.

"... I love you, Danny..."

Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.

It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.

Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.

That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.

And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.

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81folklore · 1 year

Text

dress - SV5

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it

authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets

authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards

authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)

masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others

yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?

view comments

user3: NEW ERA INCOMING

user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS

user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?

user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation

user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT

user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭

yourusername

liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others

everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…

this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’

dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys

you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all

this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.

dress out now on all platforms🖤

comments on this post have been limited

sebupdates

liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others

seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(

view comments

user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)

user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!

user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH

user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK

user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭

user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭

user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??

sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!

user18: ok thank you :)

user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭

user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?

user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!

part 2!

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #★ famous seb #f1 insta au

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multifandomgirl08 · 1 year

Text

Mini Verstappen Series Masterlist

Paring: Single Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

At the end of 2020, Max Verstappen gets the surprise of his life when he finds out that his ex-girlfriend had given birth to a son, his son. A year and a half later Max's longtime girlfriend of 8 months finds out about his son Nico.

This is an ongoing series. I'm always adding to it. The masterlist changes often.

I do take requests for this. If there is anything that you want to see happen in this series just message me in my ask box. All of my normal request rules apply.

Reader Face Claim: Hande Erçel

Total Published Word Count: 63,217 Words

Disclaimer: This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, so enjoy it as such.

𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑂𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟

0.0. Prologue - [December 2020]

Max finds out that he has a son. And it changes his world.

0.1. Be Something You'll Love and Understand [December 2020] Outtakes

He knew that he should have called his mom yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around the idea of being a father.

0.5. The Moment You Smiled At Me - [November 2021]

The evening that started it all for Max and Reader.

1. Mini Verstappen - [July 2022]

You get a small surprise the first time you visit Max’s apartment.

1.5. Girlfriend? - [October 2022] Request

You meet Nico.

1.8. Caught - [June 4, 2023] 18+ Outtakes

Lando swears he knocked before walking into Max's hotel room, maybe he should have yelled before opening the door.

2. Change - [November 26, 2023 + January 2, 2024]

It’s the end of the F1 season. Some things are changing for the Verstappen's.

SMAU #1. The Secrets Out - [December 31, 2023 - January 1, 2024]

It’s the start of a new year. You and Max decide to tell the world about Nico.

3. A Lioness Protects Her Cub - [May 5 - 9, 16, 23, 2024] Request

Reporters are vultures and Max picks out a ring.

4. Day At The Karting Track - [June 15, 2024]

Nico starts karting. It opens a small can of worms.

4.5 The Engagement - [August 15 - 16, 2024]

He moved his hand over yours, moving the engagement ring that he placed on your finger, side to side.

SMAU #2. Through Max's Eyes - [March 8, July 30 - August 15, 2024]

Max’s Instagram posts about Y/N, and a small life update from the couple.

5. Something Bad, Something Good - [August 17 - 19, 2024] Request

Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.

5.5 Time to Move? - [August 25, September 15, 2024]

When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year. Maybe it was time to find a new place for all of you.

6. Race Day - [October 20, 2024] Request

Nico tags along with Max during a race day in Monza, well as much as he can.

6.1 Wedding Headcanon - [February 2, 2025]

Headcanons from Max and the Reader's wedding. Social Media posts from their honeymoon.

6.5. Give and Take (Kind of Love We Make) - [February 28, 2025] 18+ Request (The Morning After)

Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.

6.7. To Constantly Be Away - [March 10, 2025]

Second race of the season and Max is already having a tough time with the car. Missing his family only makes it worse.

7. From Three to Four - [April 4, 2025]

Reader tells Max that your expecting, he doesn't have the best reaction at first.

8. Stones To Throw At My Creator - [July 2025]

He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

SMAU #3. The Verstappens - [January 8, February 2, May 26, December 3, 2025]

Big things happen to Max and the reader in 2025. Moving, getting married, and a little surprise that neither of them were expecting.

8.7 Give Me Eyes To See - [December 7, 2025]

Nikita's first few days at home. Flashbacks to moments from the reader's pregnancy.

8.8 Nikita's First Christmas - [December 24-25, 2025]

Nico's first Christmas with his baby brother.

8.9 Ghost of Bittersweet Memories - [January 25, 2026]

A few of the drivers visit you and Max for the day, and you end up talking with Charles about a woman that he meets at an FIA event. (This is the conversation I referenced in Part 2 of Bittersweet.)

9. Glass Houses - [February 17, 22, 23, 2026]

When Raymond had called you about going and getting lunch, you should have known that something was going on.

9.5. All That I Can Give - [May 10, 2026]

Another Mother's Day and one of Nikita's firsts.

9.7. On Sleepless Roads, The Sleepless Go - [December 2-3, 2026]

It's the early hours of Nikita's first birthday, and you can't help but look back at the day you brought your son into the world.

SMAU #4. A Year in Moments - [February 10, May 28, August 2 & 27, October 21 & 31, 2026]

10. Redline - [May 25, 2027]

"I'm sorry, mijn leeuwin. I know you were excited to announce it to everyone."

10.5. Mommy and Me - [May 31 - June 6, 2027] Request

Late one evening after dinner Y/N brought up the idea to Max for her to take Nico out for the day.

11. X3 - [July 8-9, 2027]

“Hallo, kleine welp,” Max said.

11.5. She's Not Acid Nor Alkaline - [December 2027]

Max and Reader have a night away from the kids in Santorini for the 2027 FIA Prize Giving Gala.

SMAU #5. Welcoming Another Verstappen - [2027]

12. Hey, Little Sister - [March 27 - November 20, 2028]

SMAU #6. - [2028]

13. The End of An Era - [November 2030]

The days leading up to Max retiring from Formula 1. The Article announcing his retirement. And the last race of his F1 career.

14. Right On Track - [2036]

Checking in with the Verstsppens in 2036.

15. Letters From The Past - [November 17, 2038]

Max and Reader sit down to read the letters that Amelia (Nico's birth mom) wrote.

𝐸 𝒳 𝒯 𝑅 𝒜 𝒮

Pinterest Board

Playlist

Paring Evolution

Timeline

Dividers made by @cafekitsune | Banner made by me

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127 , @mysticalnightenthusiast , @green-thots , @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine

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jaestrz · 6 months

Text

𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 김민규 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐦

A/n: this is not proofread, it’s been a while since I last posted so my writing skills are rusty ㅠㅠ. Enjoy!!!

• Husband!mingyu x wife!reader

Mingyu know for one fact, he would do whatever he could to guide you and his daughter to the path of joy.

He wanted to give you the whole world if he could.

So when he happen to talk to an old friend of his during high school at an event. Most of the questions caught him off guard- yet, put him in a confused position.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you Mingyu! I never knew I could see you at an event like this in the future!” Hyunwoo chimed, extending a hand for Mingyu to take. To which he did.

“I didn’t know I could see you at a place like this as well. Heard you were settling in France, how’s life there?” Mingyu asked.

Hyunwoo smiled from ear to ear when Mingyu mentioned about his current home. “It’s been wonderful. In fact, I flew to Korea with my girlfriend. She should be here somewhere. I was hoping you two would get to know each other. ” Hyunwoo said, lightly placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Mingyu didn’t really know much about Hyunwoo. Perhaps it’s been years since he last talk to his friends, he didn’t bother to dig much information about Hyunwoo.

Back then Hyunwoo was amongst the richest kid in school. Everyone seemed to know his father as the CEO of a famous company. Other than that, how he and Hyunwoo had become acquaintance seems to be blurry in his mind.

A few minutes have passed with catching up, Mingyu came across a blonde haired girl in red who interrupted the conversation between him and Hyunwoo.

“Oh Jung eun! This is Mingyu, Mingyu this is my girlfriend Jung eun. Babe, can you believe it? The last time we met was back in high school!” Hyunwoo laughed, snaking his arms around his girlfriend’s waist when she got closer.

“Nice to meet you Mingyu, I heard a lot about you just now from my friends. You must’ve been an amazing person to everyone.” Jung eun complimented, Mingyu on the other hand could only force a smile.

It was different from what Mingyu had expected. He remember Hyunwoo dating a girl named Areum but it didn’t last long before they broke up on their 2 months anniversary.

And he couldn’t keep track of who Hyunwoo dated because really… there was just too much.

There was a moment of pause, as if he was running out of ideas to continue the conversation.

Until Jung eun asked.

“So… how about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?

He didn’t intend to laugh but he didn’t expect her to ask such things.

Hyunwoo eyes lingered towards the metal ring wrapped around Mingyu’s ring finger. It was a simple white gold band. How come he didn’t know Mingyu was married.

Hyunwoo looked surprised. And he spoke faster before Mingyu could answer.

“You didn’t tell me you got married recently. I thought you would at least have a girlfriend by now? You should’ve invited me, I would’ve love to see who’s the lucky girl.”

Mingyu smiled, shaking his head in denial. “Actually I got married before graduation.” He confessed, making Hyunwoo more confuse.

Hyunwoo thought Mingyu was joking. There was no possible way.

“But you were in a such tough position… How- it’s impossible. You know you can just tell me you got married recently, it’s not something to be ashamed about. Since- you did grew up with nothing.” He nervously laughed, trying to cover the shock impression. But when Mingyu didn’t seem to be kidding, he grew more furious. “You were going through a financial crisis even when you were in school. You were the quiet kid back then.”

“I didn’t know there were girls who were interested in you. Until now?”

To Mingyu, of course there was.

He wouldn’t think he would reach this far if it weren’t for someone’s support.

Mingyu didn’t have a lot back then like he has now.

A week before graduation, the both of you got married at a church near your hometown. Wearing a $20 cheap silver band as the rings. Although he had warned you many times that you shouldn’t be expecting too much from him, you were unbothered by his warnings.

You two were just two fresh young adults, living in a rented single room while Mingyu balanced his work and study life. He would work 4 different jobs while attending university. Same goes to you except he didn’t allow you to work like him.

It was the time where you and Mingyu would prepare budgeted meals together. Talking about what you two would want in the future.

A house.

Maybe kids.

Even a vehicle was something you two couldn’t afford to own.

“I have something for you love.” Mingyu said while you two were on your way back home. Both of you shared an umbrella (he was lucky enough to bring one when he went to fetch you) so there was such limited space for you both to not get wet.

A slight confusion planted on your face when he took out a snack from his backpack

It wasn’t much but it was something that could lit you up after a long day.

Pepero.

But back then it was considered expensive so you and Mingyu tried to avoid buying it and bought a cheaper version. Nonetheless, you wouldn’t know the real taste of pepero anyways.

“Gyu but I thought-” your words were cut when he pecked you on the lips, his hand intertwined with yours.

“It’s yours. Take it okay?” He smiled.

“But will you share it with me?” You cautiously ask.

A chuckle left his lips.

“If you want to, then yes love.”

“Sorry, am I interrupting?”

The three heads turned their heads towards you, the corner of Mingyu’s lips formed upwards. Taking your free hand and bring it up to plant a kiss on your ring before taking Minji from your hold.

Mingyu shakes his head no. “You’re not, I was just talking to an old acquaintance. From our high school actually, if you remember.”

Judging by Hyunwoo’s expression, he feel like his head could burst from the amount of questions he’s been holding to ask.

You?

The girl who he had been taken an interest since your sophomore year.

Turns out to be a mother and Mingyu’s wife.

But you had gotten more prettier. More mature looking and not just some girl who would open her locker to find dozens of gifts and letters from boys like him.

He was too lost to even speak his mind.

“Hello y/n it’s been a long time since we saw each other.” He extended a hand but you politely bowed as an exchange. “Do you remember me? Hyunwoo?”

And it took you a while to answer because you kept looking at Mingyu.

And he didn’t expect the answer either.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I do…” you replied and the pure disappointment just flushed over his eyes. Silence filled in the gaps. “I know it’s terrible of me but I believe it’s been 8 years ago? Were you someone important?”

“Not at all! Like your husband said, we were just acquaintance,” he said with a forced smile.

And before it started to get awkward, Jung eun quickly changed the topic.

“Well! It was nice to see you two. If you were ever to plan on traveling to France, we should see each other there.”

Hyunwoo coughed. “We also have to go now. Or else we might be late for our flight.” He kept his tone cool, before politely excusing himself and Jung eun.

You give it a few minutes when the couple left before turning over to a furious Mingyu with an eyebrow raised. Minji in his grip was playing with the two rings on his finger. You were holding in your laughters, it was possibly hard to breathe anymore.

“Cut the acting sweetheart, you’re terrible lying in front of me.” Mingyu stiffled a laugh when you let out the biggest exhale.

“There was no such thing as acting.”

“mama lie.” Minji murmured before rubbing her face in Mingyu’s neck.

“Even our daughter said so.” He grinned and you playfully rolled your eyes. “But why didn’t you admit it? Hyunwoo was hoping you would remember him.”

Mingyu was a nice person. You remembered back then when Hyunwoo looked down on Mingyu for being financially broke. He didn’t treat Mingyu like today.

You despise him more than anything.

“Because he used to be mean. Even if it’s not to me, he was mean to someone I love.”

You watched his eyes softens, his expressions turn into somewhat concern. It was something he didn’t want you to remember nor reminisce. It was something that he wanted to keep it away forever.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to move on sunshine?”

“We did.” You replied, watching his free hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But then I saw you talking to him today and I remember all the mean things he said about you. How you were just some kid working a part time job to earn a living and you wouldn’t survive the outside world.”

And everything is true, Mingyu can’t find a single false in your words.

He wasn’t someone popular to begin with. Neither he has any knowledge on business. He was never trained to do those things.

Seeing Hyunwoo today took a big toll on you.

“But I just need you here beside me y/n. If you didn’t then maybe I’m nothing according to him.” Mingyu alleged. “We still have to be nice about it hm? I’m sure my princesses are such sweet girls.”

He got closer, planting a kiss on your cheekbone. Minji on the other hand was trying to adapt what was going on.

“Daddy, mama sad?” Minji asks, looking at you.

Mingyu put on a soft smile, planting a kiss on her temple.

“Mama is just a little tired. But she’s okay.” Mingyu assured.

“Uh oh, mama have to sleep!”

“Not a bad idea, maybe we should all go home and cuddle together in bed. How does that sound?” Mingyu suggested and Minji’s eyes lit up from the idea. “Should we ask mama if she’s okay with leaving early?”

The toddler turns to you, gripping onto your arm to get your attention. The satisfaction in her eyes when you said yes was heartwarming.

Mingyu’s gazed burnt your skin, as your eyes met with his, it was like he was asking if you were okay.

“Don’t worry anymore okay?”

Your lips formed into a thin line. Nodding.

“I love you.”

“I love you much more than you could possibly imagine sunshine.”

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Hooked On A Feeling

Aus Grand Prix Special

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES, READ AT OWN RISK

1.8K

Series Masterlist

AUS GP, 2025 (two years after the beginning of the story):

You don't you stress until you've tried to wrangle two hyperactive seven year olds into a car. "Liv, c'mon. We're going to see you dad."

For the fifth time, Olivia climbed out of the car. She ran back towards the house for something she definitely didn't need. "Muuuuum," Milo called from the back seat. "Can we go now?"

"One second, Milo," Y/N called as she put their things in the trunk of the car. As soon as she shut the door of the trunk she was back in the house, calling for Olivia. "Liv, let's go!" She called up the stairs.

"But I need my hat!"

When Y/N arrived at Olivia's bedroom she was searching through her drawers. "What hat, Livvy?" She asked as she searched through the top of her wardrobe, where Olivia couldn't reach.

"The one uncle Lando got me for Christmas," she said.

Y/N knew exactly what hat Olivia was looking for. It was custom made bucket hat, made to match Daniels helmet with a 3 on the top. Olivia had worn it for every race they had attended, had almost lost it in the wind at Bahrain.

Y/N knew exactly where the hat was. Olivia had taken it in for show and tell at school and it was still in her bag. She pulled it out of the flower decorated bag and handed it to Olivia. "Ready to go now?"

She nodded and followed her future step-mom down to the car. While Y/N locked the front door, Olivia climbed into the back of the car beside Milo. Y/N climbed into the drivers seat and the three of them set off.

The year before the four of them had travelled to the Grand Prix together. Daniel had driven, singing along to the music Y/N had put on. It was one of her favourite memories. This year he had driven up with Scotty James. She couldn't be mad, she had seen the videos of them having so much fun posted all over social media.

As they drove along, the music stopped and her phone started ringing through the hands free system in the car. Y/N used the button on her steering wheel to answer and Daniels voice came through. "Hi honey, are you guys on your way?" He asked.

"We're about half an hour away, Danny," she called. From the back of the car the kids let out a chorus of 'hi's'. "Are we meeting you at the Red Bull hospitality?"

"Yeah, hun. Max and I are waiting."

There was a quiet hi, from someone Y/N could only assume was Max. "Tell him we all say hello," she said to her fiancé, who quickly passed on the message.

"Baby, I've got to go," he said. "Love you guys!"

"Love you too!" The three of them replied before the call ended.

Just as she had said, they arrived at the hotel half an hour later. They could have stayed home and watched the live coverage, but they wanted to give Daniel as much support as they could, so Daniel got himself booked into a hotel room with enough space for all of them.

He had been there since Wednesday, due to media duties and such. Y/N stayed back to work and get the kids to and from school. But they had all taken the Friday off to watch the first of the practices from the Red Bull garage.

They checked themselves into the hotel room, getting the key Daniel had left by the front desk, and headed to the track. There was no point in driving, and it was close enough that they could walk.

Milo and Olivia led the way to the track. Y/N made sure they all stayed together as they walked. It was incredibly busy as they pushed their way through towards the paddock.

Actually, it was Scotty that spotted them. He waved Y/N over and she moved the kids through the crowd, towards him. With Scotty's help, they got into the paddock. "You have much traffic on the way up here?" Scotty asked as he led the three of them over to the Red Bull Garage.

She shook her head. "Not until this point," she said, keeping one eye on the kids as they led the way once again. They were just too excited, there was no point containing them. "How is he feeling?"

It was Daniel's second year back in the Red Bull, and everybody knew he was nervous. He had seen just how quickly Red Bull had tossed their other drivers to the side. He'd managed to secure a contract for another year, but that could all change with the snap of someone's fingers.

They got to the hospitality unit, where Daniel was waiting outside. He took pictures for fans and signed the things that were shoved in his face. Staff parted the fans like the red sea to allow Y/N, Scotty and the kids through.

Olivia immediately ran to her father. "Badger!" He called as he hugged her.

He held his other arm out for Milo, who joined the hug. "Hi dad," he said, grinning.

Milo didn't realise what he had said, not right away. And Daniel sure wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. It was Olivia who giggled at her future brother. "You just called him dad," she laughed, and Milo's face scrunched up in embarrassment.

"No I didn't," he insisted.

"Yes you did! Yes you did!"

But Milo went running to his mother. Olivia let go of her dad and went inside of the hospitality unit to find her Uncle Max. Daniel turned his attention to his bride to be. "My lady," he said as she stepped towards him.

"Danny." She was aware of the cameras on the two of them as she stepped towards him. Flashes went off, videos were recorded on fans phones as she pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The two of them never had much a chance at privacy. There very first kiss all those years ago was televised. They'd tried, to give her and the kids a normal life, but their attempts were futile. They'd given up.

With his hand on the small of her back, Daniel let her and Milo into the hospitality unit. "Are you hungry?" He asked, immediately going to fix her and Milo something to eat. He would have gotten Olivia something, but she was eating a muffin as she spoke to her uncle Max, no doubt about karting.

The family of four spent what time they could together before Daniel jumped in the number 3 Red Bull car for the first practice session. This one wasn't about speed, Y/N had come to learn. It was about testing different set ups, not about setting the fastest time.

FP2 that afternoon was about showing what you could do. And Danny did. Y/N, Olivia and Milo watched on as Daniel set the fastest time in FP2 over and over again. He and Max raced each other. Not in the literal sense, but it was a competition between the two of who could get the fastest lap.

After FP2 they were free to head back to the hotel. Daniel drove them back to the hotel. While Milo and Olivia took turns in showering and getting changed for dinner, Y/N and Daniel laid together. He sat on the bed and she laid against him, her hand against his racing heart. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?" She asked quietly.

Daniel sucked in a breath. The smile that played on his face wasn't a smile at all. It was more of a grimace as he looked up at the ceiling. "Nervous, definitely. But I'm glad you guys are gonna be there to support," he said and leaned down to kiss her.

They had a lovely dinner that night. It wasn't often that all four of them got to go out and do things like this, not with Daniels racing schedule. They had a wonderful time. The kids ordered whatever they wanted, which meant the biggest deserts in the place. Daniel was a lot stricter with what he was eating, considering it was a race weekend.

After their dinner, the four of them headed back to the hotel. Bellies full and incredibly happy, they quickly fell asleep. Daniel held Y/N through the night. He missed her on race weekends like this.

She woke up first. Bile rose in her throat and she struggled out of Daniels grip. As she had every morning since Wednesday, she got up and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

In the close quarters of the hotel room, everybody could hear what was happening in the bathroom. They all woke up to the sounds of Y/N throwing up into the toilet. Daniel was up and out of bed in an instant. He raced to her and immediately held her hair out of her face, rubbing her back soothingly as she heaved.

"Baby," Daniel said softly as she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth. Tears touched her eyelashes, as they always did when she threw up.

Daniel opened his arms, but she didn't throw herself into them. Instead she washed her face and cleaned her teeth, just as she had every other morning. "C'mon, Y/N, speak to me," he said softly.

She shut her eyes, steadying herself against the sink. "I think I'm just sick," she said and turned to walked out of the bathroom.

But Daniel stopped her. He grabbed her arm softly and pulled her into his embrace, his hand moving up and down her back. "You'd tell me if... right?"

She nodded her head, letting herself rest against him.

They didn't see the two little heads peaking into the bathroom. "Mum?" Milo called, somewhat timidly. Daniel hadn't heard him speak like this in years.

Y/N and Daniel pulled away from each other. They looked at the kids as they walked into the bathroom. "Is everything okay?" Olivia asked, eyes holding concern.

Both she and Daniel nodded. "It's nothing to worry about, guys. I promise." she said.

They all stayed in the bathroom just a minute longer. Y/N was the first to leave. They all followed her out and crawled back into their beds.

But Y/N and Daniel didn't sleep. They laid there, waiting for the kids to fall asleep before Y/N turned towards him. "I think I should go and get a pregnancy test," she whispered, snuggling close to his chest.

Daniel couldn't hide the way his face lit up.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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chaos-smh · 7 months

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Dutch Van Der Linde Headcanons

a/n: sorry for the delay in posting! this is probably a bit ooc but dutch is hard to write for phew. hope y'all enjoy!

pairing/s: dutch van der linde x fem!reader

content: suggestive content, smut, dom!dutch, hand kink?, established relationship, d/s dynamics, sub!reader, fluff?, dirty talk

word count: 790 words

minors dni!!🔞

Dutch can’t keep his hands off you. It almost felt as if there wasn’t a single moment in the day where his dexterous fingers weren’t resting on you, pressing into your supple flesh with his rings cool against your skin. It didn’t matter to him if everybody else was watching when he would crane your neck with his calloused hand and force you to look at him. However, what he savored the most was those moments in the depths of the nights when he would grasp at your flushed face, stifling your breath and muffling your cries of pleasure. The night would usually end with his hands soaked with your own tears and drool. Although, nothing could match your awe for the rings he wore and Dutch loved to tease you about it. “Oh? You want me to keep them on, do you sweetheart?” He would soon have you grasping at him and blushing hard when he curled his fingers inside of you with the cold jewelry soon drenched with your own slick.

Dutch loves reading to you. Being the type of man that he is, Dutch took a certain pleasure in explaining things to you but he especially enjoyed when he was able to read to you. It surprised him when you had first asked but he was quick to fulfill your request. There was something about the way that the words would roll of his tongue and how his baritone voice would resonate in his chest which you fell in love with. It gave you butterflies when you would rest up against his chest with his arms around you as he read page after page into the late hours of the night. However, you quickly found yourself loosing track of the narrative when you would simply become mesmerized by the way he spoke to you. “You just like my voice, don’t you, my dear?”

Dutch loves to spoil you. He took pride in the way that he was presented and perceived and he insisted that you should too. The gifts had started off very small but each one came with its own meaning, whether it was romantic or something which would make you to giggle. It became noticeable when the gang started to receive a steady flow of money as bottles of expensive perfume and lavish dresses would find their way to you. He relished in being able to dress you up and show you off like you were his own little doll. However, presents weren’t the only thing that he spoiled you with. Whenever you pleased him enough, he was kind enough to reward you. Dutch would honor you with deep thrusts which would leave you shaking and begging in a puddle of your own pleasure by the end of the night. “You can’t take anymore? But you’ve been such a good girl.”

Dutch always leaves his mark on you. It was clear that Dutch took pride in his work and that included you. There was nothing that gave him more of a thrill than being able to see the chorus of colors that littered your neck after a long night well spent. Your cheeks would burn the next day when you would attempt to go about your daily routine and try to avoid the teasing jokes from the other girls. However, you always caught the smug look and satisfied grin on Dutch’s face as he stood proud with a cigar on his lips and looked over you. Dutch also made it sure that you couldn’t sit. Deep shades of blue and purple smothered your behind as he would smack his ringed hand against the supple flesh for what would feel like hours. He enjoyed watching you waddle around the next day.

Dutch has a need to always be in control. Whenever Dutch lost control, he always knew at the end of the day that you would be there to submit to him. You would be stupid to challenge his authority or disobey his word. Whether you were strung out over his lap or forced on your knees, he was quick to remind you who was in charge. Your nights together would be spent in deep bliss as he would coax out your submission with long and unforgiving thrusts, making sure to leave you sobbing for your own release. His firm teachings didn’t just remain in the bedroom though, as he made it habit to let everyone know who you belonged to. Dutch adored the blush on your face when you would refer to him as ‘sir’ and he relished in the way you squirmed when he made you sit on his lap. “Don’t pout now, or do I need to remind you who you belong to.”

#rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead 2 #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #dutch headcanons #van der linde gang #rdr2 smut #dutch van der linde smut #dutch van der linde rdr2 #dutch van der linde x reader #fanfic #rdr2

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chiefdirector · 10 months

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Missing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim Bradford was known to be many things. Hardass, stickler for rules, vengeful, angry. Words like these had been tossed around tirelessly to describe him. They would say how unfortunate it was for his rookie to be stuck with a Training Officer like him. If anyone met him today, they would think he was born stuck in his ways, a man destined to be encompassed by the negatives in life.

But, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't always like he is now. In what seemed like many lifetimes ago, Tim used to be full of joy and light. He used to joke around with his coworkers and enjoy the things life had to offer. That life was long gone, all of it a forgotten memory; all of it except the golden wedding band that hung on a chain around his neck.

Despite it going against the uniform policy, Tim never took the chain off. He tucked it under his uniform, keeping it out of sight. Sargent Grey had caught him with it once and tried to reprimand him but stopped himself when he saw the ring hanging there. He knew what it meant, and what it meant that Tim was still wearing it. It meant that he hadn't given up.

(Y/N) Bradford had disappeared on the job nearly two years ago. Despite the presumption not being legally binding, everyone said she had probably been taken out by the cartel she had been hunting. She had made quite a name for herself within the LAPD for her ability to disband gangs and negotiate for them to stop their business, or at least reduce it.

Nobody was surprised when she disappeared, nor her partner when they vanished at the same time. They had tried with all of their might to track them down, SWAT teams busted multiple suspected locations but to no avail. It was as if they had disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Tim had tried to lead as many searches as he could but Grey had intervened, saying that he was too close to the matter to think rationally. He was right, Tim was on a rampage, he would not stop until he found her, no matter what, or who, got in his way.

He never gave up, even when every intuition and gut feeling he had told him to stop, he only pushed harder. He dedicated every free moment he had to following up leads. The detectives on her case were useless, he couldn’t trust them, he couldn’t trust anyone bar himself.

But life went on, he woke up every day, he went to work, he went home. Little changed, he got a new rookie, Lucy Chen, and he continued on the way he always had: one day at a time. Lucy pried the information of (Y/N)’s case out of him on the second anniversary of her disappearance. Tim had finally snapped, hopelessness coursed through his veins as he knew he was no way closer to finding her than he was two years ago. What he hadn't realised though, was that having a rookie meant that he had a fresh pair of eyes on a case, eyes that could see details that he had missed.

Lucy had taken what Tim had told her about (Y/N) to heart. She knew how hard it could be to be without the one you loved, she knew how much this must have hurt him. She had requested to see the case files, it took an exorbitant amount of favours and promises but she managed to get copies of the records.

She could see why Tim seemed resigned to the fact that he would never get his wife back. All of the leads took her nowhere. She would have to explain to him why she had taken the files out, why she had gone behind his back, and it would all be for naught. Gathering up the files, Lucy began to head back to the records room when a post-it note slipped out of the file. She crouched, huddling the rest of the paperwork to her side in hopes that it wouldn't fly everywhere, and picked up the paper. Lucy hadn't noticed it the first time around. On it was an address on the outskirts of LA, she had seen the area a few times when BOLOs had gone out.

——————

“Just hear me out, please!” Chen begged, rushing along behind Tim as she tried to keep up with rapidly increasing pace as they headed towards their shop.

“About what?” Tim stopped and turned around to face his boot. “How you went behind my back to go through that file? About how you went to that address? Alone might I add. About how you endanger your life, and potentially hers too? Is that it, or am I forgetting something?”

Tim was right, he had every right to be mad; she had done all of that stuff. But she couldn't give up, not now, not now that she knew that-

“Well?” He snapped.

Lucy stood her ground. “Her partner was there.”

A beat passed as she watched Tim pale.

“What?”

“Her partner was there.”

“What about- was she…?”

Lucy took a step forward, reaching her hand to her Training Officer’s arm, trying to bring some form of comfort but he recoiled. “No, but he said that they had spoken. The last he heard, she was near the Mexico/Arizona border. He said that he would try to speak to her.”

Tim felt like the world had come to a stop. All this time, all this time and she was so close by. He could have been there for her, he could have stopped all of this hardship and hurt. He could have brought her home, back to LA, where she belonged. He could have brought her back to him. Questions spun through his mind. Was she okay? Was she safe? Did she know that she was declared missing? Had she had any contact with anyone else? Did she know that he had waited all this time for her? Did she wait for him? Tim tried to ground himself. She was alive, and that would be enough for now.

She was alive and he could live that.

| Part Two

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #time bradford imagine #the rookie #the rookie imagine #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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mrs-gauche · 3 months

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Let's talk about the Red Lyrium Idol

(…Because it's not like this thing has been discussed to death over the past ten years, right? 😂 *drops my two cents in the Scrooge McDuck money bin*)

Ah yes… The red lyrium idol. The one thing that's given me a headache since 2018, as I'm still trying to figure out how this damn thing could possibly fit into my bazillion tinfoil theories.

Whether it's the first official DA4 teaser in 2018, the Blue Wraith comic series or the entirety of the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, a lot of the supplementary media and promotional stuff setting up the course for DA4 seems to be centered around the idol. Quite literally, in some cases, like this mural from the first 2018 teaser:

It certainly led us to think that the idol won't just be another McGuffin (or so I hope lol), but other than that, it's still heavely shrouded in mystery…

Which is why I will now make an attempt to unravel this and gather every single bit of information we have on it (so far) and maybe that'll get us closer to some sort of answer in the end (actually, it won't, because this got SO long that I had to split this post in two parts lol No one's going to read all of this anyway 💀)!

Look, I just needed to get this behemoth of a post out before we might get an actual substantial trailer tomorrow and none of this will probably matter anymore. 😂💀

(Note: This whole thing was initially intended to be solely for myself to keep track of any information we've gotten about the idol since DA2. But since it's gotten SO long over the years, I figured why not just rewrite it into a somewhat coherent text and post it on here? :D ......Seriously, it's really, REALLY effing long.)

The Idol's Journey so far

To me, the idol always seemed to be something like "The One Ring" in LOTR. A forged ancient artifact with creepy unknown powers that is said to feel "alive", almost as if it possesses a will of its own, seeing as it has somehow found its way from countless random people, back to (presumably) its former owner. It also appears to be somewhat cursed, given that almost everyone who held it at one point seems to have died or gone mad by now (Yeah, I'm very worried about Varric and Hawke 👀).

Let us start with a quick summary of the journey the idol has made in the span of about 12-13 years (not counting the unknown timespan in which the last chapter of Tevinter Nights takes place):

First discovered by Hawke and Varric in an ancient Thaig in the Deep Roads.

Stolen by Bartrand, who then made a quick trip to Rivain.

Sold to Meredith, who turned it into a sword.

Taken out of Meredith's petrified corpse by Carta dwarves.

Sold again to a Tevinter mage, who brought it to House Qintara in Ventus.

Handed to a secret agent of Fen'Harel named Gaius (who was impersonating Magister Qintara).

Traded away to Tractus Danarius.

Handed to Magister Nenealeus at Castellum Tenebris to be used as part of a ritual.

Picked up by Cedric Marquette after the fortress fell, while trying to escape.

Handed back to Tractus Danarius, who then probably (not confirmed) went to Nevarra to perform another blood magic ritual.

Picked up by a Mortalitasi who (maybe) took it to Tevinter.

(Supposedly!) ended up in a vault under an auction house in Llomerryn in Rivain, where it was (supposedly!) retrieved by Solas.

That's quite the journey… that you wouldn't even know half about if you didn't read the comics or Tevinter Nights. But whereas the book and comics were all published after the first teaser trailer in 2018, after which the idol became the center of the fandom's attention and speculation, it should be noted that a connection to the idol was in fact already made way back in 2014, when people noticed that the image of Solas holding Flemeth's lifeless body at the end of Inquisition was very reminiscent of something else.

...Which brings us to the point of what the idol is even depicting to begin with.

Description

Before I'll start to give my own description based on the models in-game, the teaser and concept art, I'd like to quote the people who've actually seen it in person.

In the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, we are being told three tales by three different people, who all describe the same idol differently.

The Carta Assassin: "A couple hugging, too thin to be dwarves - but it's sitting there, glowing softly like a ruby lit by the grace of the Maker himself. […] It's heavier than you'd think - lyrium's heavier than you'd think, too, but this was heavy even for that. When I hefted it in my hand, it was like it wanted to keep moving, like it was liquid inside."

The Mortalitasi: "An idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice. It whispered in our minds when we saw it […]."

The Orlesian Bard/Solas: "He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other."

The one thing that all of these seem to have in common though is two figures who embrace each other in some way.

Which is interesting, because in all the depictions of the idol we've seen so far, it clearly shows three people instead of two. Granted, the third figure is a bit cramped up in the back of the crowned figure, but what's strange is that not even Solas himself mentions this third figure.

Most notable though is the crowned female looking figure in the center, which is holding onto the two other figures on each side of the ring shaped object (or it's the two figures holding onto the female?). The figures themselves look rather goulish, deadly or skeletal, with their bone structure clearly visible and all their expressions captured in a mix of horror or torment. The small carved-in lines coming from the middle figure's eye sockets also resemble black tears, much like we've seen on "The Mother" in Awakening.

There's also no sign of clothing, which is all the more apparent on the concept art of the idol, in which the breast of the middle figure is.. much more prominent. lol (We don't make fun of saggy boobs in this house, it's just nature and gravity after all, but for the sake of observation, I will note that they do remind me of Broodmother boobs, too 😂), aside from a hint of what could be a veil on the middle figure's head.

At the bottom of the idol, the lower bodies of the figures seem to fully submerge within its name-giving red lyrium and this "claw" type thing, which is coming off in the shape of crystalline red lyrium spikes at the tail end, though in the concept art and the DA2 model, these spikes were clearly more like red lyrium roots. But either way, the bottom makes it kinda look like it's been broken/ripped off?

We can also see tentacle like features, that remind me of the figures we've seen in the mural in the 2020 teaser and the depiction in the 25th anniversary book that revealed to us what the Archdemons were initially supposed to look like. 👀

I'd also like to point out that in the original concept art of the idol, the ears of the crowned figure look much more pointy to me than in later versions. 👀

There's also this "ring", that I've seen many people connect to how the Veil is often portrayed in Solas' murals.

But if this ring is supposed to depict the Veil, then what could it mean for the crowned figure reaching across to hold that ominous third figure on the "other side"?

And yes, I recognize that this ominous third figure also seems to be missing a left arm, just like another certain main character. 👀

The one thing that stands out the most though, is probably the crown itself. Most people might first associate it with Andraste, when the same shape can be traced as far back as ancient statues of Mythal.

Yeah, there's definitely a pattern here. 😂

That being said…

Connection to Mythal & Solas

Okay, we all know about the theory that Andraste might have been Mythal's previous host, right? We all know about the parallels between Mythal's story, Andraste, Flemeth, etc. And after comparing the idol to Flemeth and Meredith in their moment of death, considering all of the above/following and how old this thing potentially is, I will now make a wild guess here and argue that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death.

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other. But I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Not only does Solas seem to hold sentimental value for whoever the crowned figure is supposed to be, while also talking to it in elven, but the way he describes to "caress" the idol in Tevinter Nights does also seem to mirror how Flemythal was comforting him at the end of DAI.

However, I always thought it was a bit odd how Solas describes the idol as "a figure comforting another", when… tbh, "comforting" would probably be last thing that comes to my mind when I look at this...

"Agony" would be more fitting here, maybe? lol Kinda begs the question of how Mythal was murdered, too, with this being her expression in her moment of death? 👀

Without getting too much into it here, if there's one thing we can take from everything we've learned so far about their past, Solas' relationship with Mythal must've been a rather complicated one, to say the least.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

Solas calls Mythal "the best of the elven gods", calling her "the mother, protective and fierce", and Solas is even described in the designer's notes as "Mythal's oldest friend" who is all about free will, yet if the spirit origin theory is true and Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are in fact about them, it was Mythal who gave Solas a body against his will, potentially bound/enslaved him with her vallaslin, and maybe even forced him to act against his original purpose?

"You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight."

Cole: "You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them." Inquisitor: "Solas, what is Cole talking about?" Solas: "A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything."

How much of what happened was Solas acting out Mythal's will, or rather, acting out of vengeance and pain in reaction to Mythal's death? How much of it was him acting downright impulsive?

Solas: “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” Varric: “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.” Solas: “You don’t. A spirit can.”

Or was it Mythal's death itself that "wounded him and perverted him from his purpose", just like he described what happened to Cole?

And what does that say about Mythal then, when she clearly hasn't forgiven her murderers and still strives for vengeance after all this time? What if Solas' own perception of Mythal and all the circumstances surrounding her murder is warped because he was once bound to her? 👀

Anyway. To get back to topic.

So if we assume that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death, then that brings us to the next question of why the idol is even made of red lyrium? Or rather, what is Mythal's connection to red lyrium?

We know that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan. Mythal was the first to kill a Titan and mine their blood for things we won't get into in this post. So, how did the idol end up in the Deep Roads, anyway? How long had it been there? One thing that's kinda strange to me, is how the DA wiki page about the idol says that it was forged by the dwarves, solely based on the fact that it was initially found in the Deep Roads, when we have no actual evidence for that. We've seen statues of both Mythal and the Dread Wolf in the Deep Road section in Trespasser where the mining of lyrium was undergone, but we don't know if the dwarves even had any part in building them as well.

Would the dwarves forge an idol of the elven deity who conquered them and killed their Titan, if they were somehow forced to do so? We also have to remember that dwarves were and still are the only ones able to actually mine raw lyrium safely, but even the Carta dwarves in Tevinter Nights had to take several precautions in order to recover the red lyrium idol from Meredith's corpse. And even then, many of them still fell shaking or went mad in its presence like Bartrand.

So if it only takes that little exposure to have that much of an effect on someone's sanity, how were the ancient dwarves or anyone even able to create it in the first place? What if the idol was initially made of blue lyrium but was then somehow corrupted?

And if we take one moment to really think about what an idol actually is.

"An object representing extreme devotion and religious worship to a god."

While Solas doesn't think of any of the Evanuris as actual gods, he still seems to hold Mythal at such a high regard that he wouldn't even speak of her at a sacred place like the Temple of Mythal (whether or not that was because he just wanted to withhold any secret ancient knowledge). He's able to fully recite the invocation to Mythal if you bring him with you to her altar. He also looks exactly like the sentinels in Mythal's temple.

I could go on, but generally speaking, there are so many little hints pointing to Solas being a former slave/servant of Mythal that, again, we won't get into here, but it's important to mention when trying to figure out why the idol (presumably) even belongs to Solas.

"The idol's journey is now complete, and it has found its master."

In Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf claims that the red lyrium idol belongs to him. He also made sure to punish those who tried to misuse it, going so far as to march in with an entire army of spirits and snapping a guy's neck with his jaw. (Yup, you're better off not to touch the Dread Wolf's stuff for dirty blood rituals, kids.)

"You use my idol carelessly, and in doing so, you threaten all creation."

Additionally, in the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, Charter and other spies conclude that Solas must need the idol for whatever ritual he's planning, while Solas in Bard disguise claims that he's already in possession of the idol now and therefore, I quote, "cannot be stopped". (Though I personally still don't actually buy a single thing about his vivid tale at that auction house, but we'll get back to this later. lol)

And if the idol belongs to Solas, was he the one who created it, or did he order the dwarves or someone else to make it for him? But why would he intentionally make an idol out of red lyrium, anyway? He is fully aware of the dangers and corruption that comes with being exposed to red lyrium and its use. Especially considering that red lyrium is blighted and how he repeatedly expresses great concern over the Blights and gets furious over the Grey Wardens' attempts to preempt them by killing the Archdemons (because he obviously knows more than us).

So, does he know a way to use it without getting corrupted like everyone else? The Seekers of Truth are so far the only ones we've seen to be immune to red lyrium thanks to having their minds touched by a spirit of Faith during their vigil. Could Solas' connection to spirits/his hypothetical spirit origin allow him to use the idol without it effecting him?

But if any of this is true, then l'm again asking myself what even was the purpose of the idol to begin with? Why or when was it created? How does it differ from any other red lyrium, and what could Solas have used it for in the ancient past?

Powers & Effects

So, let's talk about what this thing can actually do (as far as we know).

(Btw, this is the part where I will shamelessly copy a lot straight from the DA wiki, because truth be told, I'm just a German struggling with limited vocabulary and I figured there's simply no way to summarize this any better than the wiki already has. 💀)

Just like any other red lyrium, we know that being exposed to the idol for too long will make you mad/paranoid/possessive/violent, while also grant you special powers, until overuse causes your body to be completely overtaken by red lyrium. It seems to thin the Veil wherever it is currently kept, allowing spirits or demons to interact with the physical world.

It also emanates a song that is slowly turning people who hear it insane.

The Song

"It sings… sick music." "It eats you inside until you're nothing." "It creeps into your thoughts, humming." "They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." "Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how."

(- Cole's comments about red lyrium/red templars)

After Bartrand took the idol and left Varric and Hawke to die in the primeval Thaig, he started hearing voices, claiming the idol was "singing" to him. Even after selling it, Bartrand could still hear the idol and was eventually driven mad by its red lyrium.

Three years later, it is discovered that Bartrand had chipped a piece of the idol off and left it in his estate, which causes the house to behave like it was haunted and the Veil was torn.

Then during the "Haunted" quest, Varric himself remarks several times to hear music while walking through the estate, much like the Carta assassin in Tevinter Nights recalled to have heard "music in the wind, like some old song I heard as a kid but can't quite remember" when obtaining the idol from Meredith's corpse.

Important to mention here is that Varric seems to also be the only one in the party able to hear this song.

Varric: "Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?" Hawke: "In don't hear anything." Varric: "Where is that singing coming from? You hear it, right, Hawke?" Varric: "Where is that voice coming from?" Hawke: "What voice?" Varric: "I can barely hear it… I wish I could make out the words."

Varric also told us that, after Bartrand went mad, he tortured his non-dwarven servants by cutting pieces off them to help them "hear the song".

(And remember, the idol was found in an ancient primeval Thaig in the Deep Roads, sitting on something like an altar, indicating that it was being worshiped by the ancient dwarves as well. Presumably because they too were being influenced by the idol's/red lyrium's song?)

Haunted

During the "Haunted" quest, we learn that the mere presence of a shard of the idol in the estate causes:

"Voices whispering in the walls"

Random objects moving on their own

Apparitions/screaming spirits appear running across the floors

When Varric picks up the piece of the idol, he starts to exhibit the same symptoms of madness Bartrand showed, at which point Hawke can either let Varric keep the piece, or can take it from him with the intent of having Sandal destroy it.

If Hawke asks Anders to diagnose Bartrand in Act 2, he suspects a demon at work, however Bartrand is a dwarf. Instead, he determines that "his mind has been poisoned by something powerful".

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin recalls that, in the attempt to retrieve the idol from Meredith's corpse, most of his colleagues fell shaking and whispering the closer they got to it.

Meredith

After Bartrand sold the idol to Meredith, she reshapes it into her sword Certainty, which does eventually drive her insane as well. It also gives her unnatural powers, such as the ability to animate the statues in the Gallows, and even limited flight capabilities.

(My question is though, were the things happening in that final fight directly caused by the idol or was this just the result of the Veil being already weakened that much by the many terrible things that happened at that place/Kirkwall in general?)

Anyhow, during the final battle at the Gallows, Meredith overuses the lyrium sword, causing it to burst into dust and petrify her into a statue.

Though as we all know now, some part of Meredith seems to have survived somehow, as her… mind(?) or something was shown to now still "live" within the red lyrium somewhere in Kirkwall at the end of Absolution. She (or "it") also seems to have somewhat control over the red templars now, too.

So, how is this possible? What exactly is she now, if it even is herself and not just a manifestation/echo of her memories or something? Could it have something to do with the idol? No one really knows (and we might never find out, if Netflix won't give us a second season, anyway lol), but I do think it's curious how the idol is likely depicting Mythal's death, who didn't actually die either and lived on through the ages as a type of lingering "wisp" clinging to various hosts. 👀

I also want to point out how Solas did suspiciously include Meredith's petrified corpse in his mural in the 2020 teaser as well, placing her right under that ominous upside down figure with the tentacles.

Furthermore, just like Meredith, the idol also seems to be somewhat indestructable. lol After Meredith's sword burst into dust, it regrew inside her petrified corpse (which Solas was apparently also aware of). What's interesting is that it regenerated in Meredith's chest of all places. You know, like, where the heart is supposed to be? 👀

Then there's also this curious line from Anders, when talking about Varric acting strange after obtaining a shard of the idol:

"This thing's magic seems only more potent when broken."

I've mentioned it before, but with the spikes (or roots in DA2) at the bottom part of the idol making it look like it was ripped or broken off of something, you have to wonder if its current state is somewhat broken, even after regenerating.

"Hot-Blooded"

During the Haunted quest, Fenris will remark this:

"Whatever is here is angry."

In DAI, Cole repeatedly comments on how red lyrium feels "very angry" and how it is "less angry when it's cold". We know for a fact that red lyrium emanates a noticeable heat. A corrupted Bartrand is especially weak to cold/ice magic.

While anger is generally associated with heat, I find this aspect particularly interesting, given that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan.

And building on that, while still searching for further connections between red lyrium, the idol and Mythal… Remember how the ancient sarcophagus in the Blue Wraith and Dark Fortress comic was used in a ritual, in which lyrium combined with fire of a Great dragon carved lyrium infused markings into Fenris' and Shirallas' skin, granting them special powers.

Not only was this ancient sarcophagus specifically built only for elves, and its design resembling that of Mythal's statues…

…but here we have a case in which lyrium is purposefully "set on fire" by a Great dragon to create "elven super soldiers". Mythal is always depicted as a dragon. And she mined lyrium in humongous amounts.

Again, red lyrium emanates heat. If this was common practice in ancient times, then I feel like it's not surprising that a Titan would eventually be pretty damn angry in reaction to its blood being continuously burned for centuries [insert boiling blood joke here].

So, aside from the red lyrium being blighted, could there be a connection in Mythal burning the Titans' blood? As far as we know, it did take a couple of aeons in which Mythal (presumably) continued to mine (and burn?) the Titans' blood, before the ancient elves sealed the Deep Roads for good, because they discovered something… bad. As Solas himself declares in the vision described at the mural depicting a Titan's death:

"Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger." "The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic." "Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

And there it is again. That anger we're talking about. What's so interesting to me, is how this does sort of come full circle with Mythal and the idol after all, since the motivation behind Mythal's actions, even after thousands of years, remains her unwavering desire for vengeance upon the people who betrayed and murdered her, which, in a way, does mirror the same anger/heat that the Titan is emanating from its tainted blood.

And speaking of blood……

A Ritual Blade

In Tevinter Nights, we learned that the idol is able to produce a blade, which is then used as part of a blood magic ritual.

"The Tevinter mage was killing his slaves. […] He had cut the throat of one of them, and then another, catching the blood of his victims on the idol as he made his way around the circle. […] The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and I saw a spike of lyrium spring from the base of the idol, so that all at once, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and a wave of power pulsed through the cavern. It was as though we were the blood, and the cavern was the body through which it flowed, and we fell, all of us, to the ground, our minds pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual."

In the end of the Dark Fortress comic, the idol produced another red lyrium sword, that could be fully detached and was then placed onto the before-mentioned sarcophagus, turning Shirallas into a raving beserker that was pretty much invincible as long as he was in possession of that same sword.

While the blue lyrium infused sword that was used in Fenris' ritual simply dissolved in the process, the sword produced by the idol could "regenerate" and was especially resistant to Great dragon fire.

"Unlike the lyrium-infused swords of the so-called Arcane warriors, this sword should survive the ritual."

In the final fight against him, Marquette comments on how Shirallas "feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins" and how in turn "the sword heals his wounds".

So in both the comic and Tevinter Nights, the idol/the weapon produced from the idol seems to draw power specifically from the blood of its wielder. It makes me wonder if it was initially intended to be used this way, since we have to remember that it still presumably belongs to Solas, who claims to not practice blood magic, because it seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade.

Which is ironic, given what the mage in Tevinter Nights did to disrupt the Fade, but also how the Magisters Sidereal used a massive blood ritual to enter the Fade physically.

And oddly enough, in your first conversation with Solas about blood magic, he makes this curious analogy with daggers as an example…

Inquisitor: Every time I've seen blood magic used, it has been for some evil purpose. Solas: I once saw a woman being stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. She died slowly, in angony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop the people from using it? Of course not. […]" Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

So… Could Solas be referencing Mythal's death here? Or what if the dagger here is referring to the idol in its blade form? What the heck does he mean by "I suppose it depends upon the dagger"? Was a slave's life sacrificed to create the idol maybe?

But if blood magic wasn't the sole purpose for why it was made, then what else could the idol as a ritual blade be used for?

Which brings us to…

Dalish mythology

According to Dalish legends, Fen'Harel told the Creators and the Forgotten Ones that the Avvar had forged a "terrible weapon", a blade that would end the war between both clans of gods. He told the Creators that it was forged in the heavens, while the Forgotten Ones were told that it was hidden in the Abyss. And when the gods went seeking it, Fen'Harel sealed them both in their realms forever.

Okay. So, let's just assume for a second that the blade in this legend was actually the idol in its blade form. Because hell, what are the odds of having two "super powerful ancient blades that belong to Solas"? lol

If they are in fact the same weapon and the part about Solas tricking the gods is true, why were the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones so eager to get this thing, to the point that they would fell into a trap?

And with this, I'd also like to point out the level design in the scene in which Flemeth takes Kieran's Old God soul in the Fade. I can't help but feel like the statue of Dirthamen being stabbed in the back with a sword, crying a stream of blood, resulting in a huge pool of blood, as well as a bloody ouroboros symbol on the ground, is a very deliberate design choice. Especially considering the context of this scene with the revelation about Flemeth and Mythal, I'd argue this is all in reference to how Mythal was betrayed and murdered.

Again, the idol could depict Mythal in her moment of death. In the final fresco in the rotunda, the one Solas never finished before leaving the Inquisition, we see a wolf looming over a dragon slain by a blade.

In the last visual of the 2022 cinematic that, going by Varric's narration, could potentially depict the destruction of the Veil, Solas appears to hold something that resembles a blade with a very destinct handle. Additionally, we've since discovered an icon hidden on the Steam page of DA4, that shows a dagger with an identical shape and the same glowy purple as the Dreadwolf title.

So we have the idol in its blade form, the blade Mythal was potentially slain with, the blade Solas is holding in the 2022 cinematic, Solas mentioning a dagger in relation to blood magic and Fen'Harel's blade in Dalish legends.

That's a lot of blades... and a lot of blood. lol

The Hunt of the Fell Wolf

"The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" is the title of a poem that can be found in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. It tells a story of former Inquisitor Ameridan, his friend Haron and their fight against a demon wolf.

Along with numerous odd things in this tale that could be interpreted as some kind of metaphor (or just the devs messing with us, if you want to know more, please check out this post), it also mentions an "idol of fade-touched stone" in connection to the demon wolf.

The wounded knight in darkness Found within the cavern’s gloom An idol of fade-touched stone, Which could prove the monster’s doom.

In the poem, after a grim fight, the wolf takes Ameridan's friend Haron to its lair, a "labyrinth of winding cave" (which many believe is referring to the Deep Roads, just like the ancient Thaig in DA2 where Hawke and Varric found the red lyrium idol originally) where Haron, oddly enough, also happens to find an idol. What's intruiging though, is that this idol seems to be connected to the wolf in such a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

With burning blade, Ameridan And monster met again Whilst elsewhere did Haron valiantly With demon-wards contend.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

"Beast and spirit—both felled at once"

Two entities that are connected across two different places… as in the physical body and the spirit maybe?

As in the waking world and the Fade?

So, let's reiterate.

The red lyrium idol belongs to the Dread Wolf. Cole remarks how he can feel that Solas is "in both places". The word "Dread Wolf" itself is an anagram for "World" and "Fade". We've talked about the popular spirit origin theory before, Solas taking a physical form against his will because of Mythal. The whole matter of Solas' "true name" before he called himself Pride. Solas' entire personal quest, which may or may not mirror his own past, a spirit of Wisdom being denied its original purpose, turning into a pride demon ("He wants to give wisdom not orders"). His strange remarks at the end of Cole's personal quest ("We cannot change our nature by wishing"). The fact that Solas makes Cole forget about his true identity, just like spirit!Cole does. The visual portrayal of Solas "consuming" Flemeth's powers at the end of DAI. The way in which Solas doesn't recognize anyone in the waking world as "people", but will vehemently debate you on why spirits should be considered people.

"But the People… They need me." (- Solas to Flemeth at the end of DAI) "Never again." (- Solas after burning the mages who were responsible for Wisdom's corruption) "From this moment, should you ever bind a spirit, your life is mine." (- the Dread Wolf's final warning to the mages in Tevinter Nights)

All of this considered, what could the poem in JOH imply for the connection between Solas and the Dread Wolf/the Dread Wolf and the idol?

"They made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget."

One theory assumes that the creation of the Veil lead to the separation of the ancient elves' bodies and their souls/spirits, assuming that before the creation of the Veil, the Evanuris somehow made bodies from the Titans/lyrium for spirits to manifest and then enslaved/bound them to their will by marking those bodies with their vallaslin.

But if that's true, then what happened to Solas when he created the Veil?

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap."

In all the murals, tarot cards and illustrations, the Dread Wolf and Solas are always depicted separately.

What really IS the Dread Wolf? And what is he to Solas?

"It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons."

From what little we know of the Dread Wolf himself, he only seems to exist within the Fade (that is to say, before the Veil, Solas was already depicted as a wolf, presumably even before his rebellion and before the Evanuris "bestowed" him with the title "Fen'Harel"). In the Mortalitasi's tale in Tevinter Nights, his army of spirits follows the mages back to the waking world, yet the Dread Wolf himself remains in the Fade. In one of the frescoes in the rotunda, Solas portrays the Black City surrounded by the six burning red eyes that resemble those of the Dread Wolf, almost like he's keeping watch over the eternal prison of those he banished. In the Tower tarot card, the Dread Wolf is ominously looming over Solas, almost like it's about to consume him, while in one of the Trespasser murals, it looks more like the Dread Wolf follows his lead. And then there's the DA4 2018 teaser mural, in which they're opposing each other, only seperated by the red lyrium idol in the center of the Veil.

If the red lyrium idol is connected to Solas like the idol in the poem is connected to the wolf, could this be part of the reason Solas is so desperate to find it? Does it possess some kind of spirit? Can the Dread Wolf only be defeated if the idol is destroyed at the same time, just like in the poem?

Where is it now?

So where's the damn thing now?

Well, in my opinion, there are two options.

Option 1) The bard's tale in Tevinter Nights was complete bullshit. lol

Despite Solas trying to convince us that he already obtained the idol in a vault some time ago under an auction house in Llomerryn, it's possible that, much like his whole charade in that chapter, this tale was also entirely fabricated. lol

To make it short, here is a list of arguments for why the "bard's tale" could've been a complete lie:

Solas attended this spy meeting specifically for information on the idol's whereabouts (because he doesn't actually know where it is currently?).

Everything until the last two pages was an act.

Both the Mortalitasi and the Carta Assassin point out several contradictions within his tale.

Upon hearing the other spies assuming that he needs the idol, it would just make sense that he would want them/Charter to believe that he’s now in possession of the idol and “cannot be stopped”, so that they would drop all effort to find it before him.

On the very last page of the book, there's a lists of bullet points of information when Charter is about to write down her report, and it does not explicitly say “He has the idol” but rather just what it looks like, which suggests that Charter didn’t buy his story either.

So if this was all lies, the last known location of the idol would therefore be the unknown person who took it when escaping from the Dread Wolf's spirit army in the Grand Necropolis in the tale of the Mortalitasi.

Meaning that Solas would therefore still be searching for it now. (Which would actually be kind of hilarious, considering how there's likely gonna be a ten year timeskip since DAI, so he would've been searching for the flippin thing for the better part of a decade now. 😂 We know from the end of the Blue Wraith comics that he had followed the idol's path via eluvian, but maybe he just lost track of it at some point? In fact, the last we heard from him, Solas was apparently busy pursuing some Venatori people to get another ancient artifact called the Crucious Stone in the The Missing comic, much like he prevented the Tevinter mage in Nevarra from using his idol. Solas after ten years of searching for the idol was probably like "Oh fuck it, I give up, on to McGuffin Nr 2 then". lmao)

In an interview with the comic writers Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, they talked about how in their initial draft of Dark Fortress, Solas actually *got* the idol(!!) from two of his agents by using the eluvian located at Nenealeus' place before BioWare stepped in and requested a change. 👀 That version would've explained how Solas was able to track the idol through the eluvian we see at the end. Their own interpretation was that Solas can only overlook a certain radius within the area of where another eluvian is located. Which would actually support the assumption that Solas might've lost track of the idol at some point after Nenealeus left the place… but that's just their interpretation and not official BioWare canon (yet), sooo…. Hm.

Option 2) Solas has the idol now.

So let's assume that the part about him obtaining the idol in Tevinter Nights was actually true and it's now in his possession.

Aside from this, the only thing that could speak for Solas already having the idol in the beginning of DA4, is once again the final visual in the 2022 cinematic.

If this cinematic is in fact playing at the beginning of the game as a general re-introduction to the lore and the last visual is depicting Solas in the middle of destroying the Veil using the idol, then.. well yeah, there it is, in his hand…. at least, for now. Making Solas succeed in the first 10 minutes, I guess? lol

……Unless!

See, a few years ago, I speculated about how the idol might actually be the perfect plot device/motivation for our new protagonist to get involved in the whole Solas deal without even knowing who he is.

Let's say the last visual in the 2022 cinematic is actually showing us a hypothetical scenario, and not something that has already happened/is currently happening. Like, Varric gives this expository narration explaining who Solas is and what might happen if we don't succeed in getting the idol. (Notice how Varric says "And we're the only ones who can stop him" at the end… Like there's still a chance to stop him before this actually happens.) We know from Tevinter Nights that Charter knows that Solas needs the idol for whatever ritual he's planning. And Charter obviously informed the Inquisition/Varric about this as well. So the next logical step for the Inquisition now would be to obtain the idol (whether or not the bard's tale in TN was true) to prevent this ritual at any cost, right?

The comic The Missing re-emphasized that Varric is now in charge of getting people that Solas doesn't know. And this might be where the new protagonist gets recruited by Varric (who is still a spymaster after all) and gets assigned the alias "Rook" for a heist mission to obtain the idol. (And after a very thorough observation of the DA4 reddit leaks from 2023… it looks like Rook might've actually succeeded in this potential quest?)

While we don't know when the stuff in the leaks actually takes place within DA4's storyline, I think it's safe to say that Rook will obtain the idol at some point in the story and that it will play a pivotal role, if the blurb on the Steam page for DA4 is to be believed. lol

As well as what could likely end up being the game's icon, found on the Steam page.

And again, remember how in the Hunt of the Fell Wolf poem, it seemed like Ameridan struck the wolf’s body in the waking world, while his friend Haron killed the spirit (inside the idol?) in the Fade. What could this imply for DA4 then, if we are applying the role of Ameridan, Haron and the wolf in this tale to the Inquisitor, Rook and Solas?? 👀 Is this how we can stop him? The Inquisitor confronts Solas in the waking world, while Rook has to destroy the idol/fight the Dread Wolf in the Fade?

Or could it just be a metaphor for the Inquisitor in DA4 keeping Solas occupied to distract him from Rook, while they can figure out another secret way to deal with him/how to get/destroy the idol?

See, the thing is, we have to remember that this is after all, a video game. lol Meaning that, if our protagonist gets to carry around a powerful ancient artifact/weapon, I would assume that this has to be somehow implemented in the gameplay as well. What we can take from the short footage of the 2023 reddit leak, is that Rook might carry the idol (if it really IS the same thing) while still fighting with their own main weapon in combat. So, what if the idol serves as more of a special power tool outside of combat, for example, like the anchor did in DAI, where it can only be used for special occasions? Let's say, the idol in its blade form can't be used in battle but is able to "split" the Veil or reality, like the anchor was able to open and close rifts? Or, if we assume that the idol is something like an ancient phylactery (which btw is my favorite theory and I will talk about in my second post), maybe it can be used as some kind of "tracking device"? Actually, I'm super curious to learn how Rook is even able to carry it like this in the first place, since we know what kind of effect it usually has on people. lol

~~~~~

Anyway, I'll make a hard cut here now and save the rest of this behemoth of a post for a second separate post (because I also just realized that tumblr doesn't let me add any more images 😂💀), so if any of you actually made it this far... thank you for being just as crazy as me about this and I will post the second part shortly after. lol ❤

#tinfoil time #da4 #red lyrium idol #solas #dragon age 4 #mythal #good god that got long 💀💀💀💀

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lovebugdrabbles · 4 months

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Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

#wriothesely genshin #genshin imagines #wriothesley headcanon #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #ns4w #n$4w #n$fw #genshin impact #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x gn reader #ok funnies hidden in tags #just one night pls ur grace #i am begging #i'll do what ever you want babygirl

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stanurines1mp · 21 days

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Until We're Satisfied

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Zenin!Reader (she/her)

type: angst + smut

an: pt 2 of Summer Nights based on this. lord this is my first smut that i have the courage to post bcoz my bsf told me to. its probably shitty and kinda rushed in the end but tbf i wrote it while i was battling my demons (sleep and period cramps). anyways, pls lemme know how it is.

warnings: a little bit of angst, smut, handjob (m!receiving), gojo eating you out (self-indulgent to the core), praise kink if you squint, gojo is desperate and so are you, slightly possessive gojo, spit kink (lord help me), forbidden love, slight hair pulling (self-indulgent pt2), gojo is a tease and so are you, switch!gojo, body worshipping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, i think that's it? have fun ig

Part one

~~~

You both headed back to the hotel, ready to pack your things and go home but your tracks were frozen in place as your hands flew to cover your ears, a ringing pain appearing.

This wasn't anything new to you.

When you finally had to use your technique and go all out after months of not using it, your ears would feel a sort of shrill and your head would hurt, feeling like it could burst at any given moment but it never does.

Although you were used to this, Satoru never knew this consequence of yours. Almost immediately, his arms went to you, trying to keep you steady when you bunch over your stomach and holding your head in pain.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" He asked, worried that maybe you had been hit by one of the Curse User's techniques without either one of you realizing it.

"I'm fine," you dismissed with a simple wave, recollecting yourself to stand up straight and fight the pain. "I just need to get my meds in my bag at the hotel."

Your words held no intended urgency but apparently to Satoru, that was all that mattered. To get you back to the hotel room.

In all honesty, he had no idea what was going on. But he was not about to take any risks as he wrapped an arm around you and warped you both back to the room.

Suddenly, your eyes were blinking in the view of the bedroom, eyes twitching to adjust to the lighting but the pain in your head was a step ahead of you, not even allowing any adjustment as your eyes screwed shut in pain.

"God, Satoru, why the fuck did you warp us?" You almost screamed, scrambling to find your bag by the couch.

Satoru's eyes widened, overpowered by guilt. "You said you needed to get your meds here!" He replied with just the same amount of defense as the frustration in your voice.

He stood frozen in fear, unsure of what to do as he watched you scrimmage your bag, creating a mess on the floor but you hadn't got enough to care for it at the moment.

He saw you holding a bag that contained a few boards of pills, all of them a different type. Taking out two pills of different kinds, you popped each of them into your mouth, swallowing them down your dry throat.

There was a lingering sting in the back of your throat, causing you to wince.

You tried to stand up, but your body was weak and threatened to fall. Satoru rushed right next to you, one hand holding your back and one hand holding your stomach, helping you to keep upright.

"Woah, are you okay?" His voice was low against your ear, somehow a comfort to your searing pain.

"Yeah, just need to lie down for a sec," you nodded, arms reaching forward to the bed.

You tried to walk but really, you were closer to falling to your knees than you were to walking.

And Satoru noticed that.

Stopping you, he instead scooped you into his arms and walked over to the bed. Even though the walk was short, you let your head rest on his shoulder, eyes closing while the pain in your head throbbed endlessly.

He gently laid you on the bed, right on your back. Your head immediately settled into the soft pillow while your hand reached out to tug at his wrist.

"Water- Please," your voice choked out in a small cry and Satoru just about dashed to the pantry to get two bottled water, just in case.

He placed one on the nightstand next to you while he helped open the other and handed it to you. You took it gratefully, murmuring a jumbled 'Thank you' before downing the beverage.

A soft sigh of relief escaped you once you stopped drinking and Satoru took the bottle from you to help close it, placing it next to you on the nightstand. He was scared and clueless, standing so awkwardly still to assist you with any wish of yours.

"Chocolates," you coughed, pointing to your bag on the floor by the couch.

"What?" He asked with a scrunched face, not noticing your gesture.

"In my bag, there should be a small jar of chocolates," you managed to say smoothly, the water and medicine taking effects. "Can you help get them?"

"Of course, princess," he mumbles before almost diving into the floor due to his speed and managing to fish out the very thing you wanted.

He gave it to you after taking off the lid of the jar, the smell of milk chocolate with almonds filling the space between both of you.

"Thanks," you pursed your lips and took a small square of chocolate to bite into. "You can take some if you want," your words were smooth but the pain was still heavy in your mind. You noticed Satoru's hesitance as he eyes the chocolate then you then back to the chocolate. "Don't worry, they're not magic chocolates or whatever."

His lips tugged in a small smile as he helped himself to a square before taking a seat by the edge of the bed, right next to your stretched-out legs.

His eyes remained on you even while he took the chocolate into his mouth, watching the way your eyes were fluttering to suppress the pain in your head but you did seem much better now.

"So, are you gonna tell what the fuck that was?" He finally voiced out, licking his lips for a hint of chocolate residuals.

The tone he used shocked you but it also amused you, causing you to let out a small giggle.

And oh, how for once Satoru thought he was actually useful if he could have made you let out such a beautiful harmony.

Your giggles settled into a gentle smile as you pushed yourself upright with your palms on the bed. "You know my technique, right?" You asked with a raised brow.

Know?

Satoru might just have memorized every little thing about your technique. Or at least, every little thing about it that you've told him over the past few years of being together during occasional missions.

But he just nodded and allowed you to explain.

"And you know that cursed energy has its own frequency too, right? Everyone's cursed energy has different frequencies," you said, earning a nod from him. "When I use my technique, it causes my cursed energy to lower. Like you, too," you paused before continuing, "And usually, it's fine. But when I use it a lot, especially after not using it for months like what happened today, I get these really bad migraines for about a day or two. It's like my body can't adjust to the low cursed energy."

Satoru nodded as he fathomed your explanation, the information he received was no doubt going to the little space in his memory reserved especially for you.

"Wait, so, why were you angry that I warped us here?"

"Because the frequency of your cursed energy gets higher when you use it and it was very loud and it-"

"It was hurting you," he concluded, earning a slow nod from you. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," your shoulders shrugged. "I'm honestly used to this. I just have to take my meds, drink water, and eat something sweet. Chocolate usually helps," you added, reaching forward to grab another chocolate square from him.

"Makes sense, chocolate helps with everything."

"Finally, something we can agree on," you laughed and Satoru thought that when people talked about angels singing, they must have meant your laugh.

Because that was truly all that he believed you were as his eyes were captivated by the way your shoulders shook in laughter.

Really, if he was placed on this Earth solely to make you laugh, then so be it. He will fulfill his role to its fullest.

But he couldn't really do that, could he?

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat and placed the jar of chocolates on the nightstand before walking out of the room.

Your smile faded as quickly as he walked out and shut the door, leaving you frozen and clueless. You had no idea what just happened but your mind was too hazy and tired to think anything more, causing you to fall asleep.

Satoru only excused himself because he had to free himself of you. Of the way your hair fell so nicely over your shoulders even in such a state. Or the way your eyes crease slightly when you laugh.

And don't even get him started on your laugh.

Any second longer in front of you and he would have kissed away all your troubles.

But he couldn't do that to you.

He didn't want to put you in such a position.

Satoru was sitting in the lounge of the hotel lobby, his phone constantly by his ears as he waited for Ijichi to answer, wondering when it would be time for you and him to return home.

But night was aging fast and you were still in a terrible state that he had given up on trying to find a way back home.

That was, a way back home that wasn't you.

Walking to the receptionist, Satoru confirmed with the man that he wanted to extend the stay yet another night.

Once things were settled, and he was sure he could face you again without having the heavy urge to kiss you and hold you against him (though he wondered if that was even possible), he returned to the bedroom and saw that you were still fast asleep in your uniform on the bed.

But his arrival had caused you to stir awake, being a light sleeper and all.

"What time are we leaving?" You mumbled, pushing yourself up by your elbows.

"Ijichi isn't answering. It's getting late and you clearly need more rest," he sighed, adding, "I've asked them to extend our stay another night."

"We're sleeping here again?" Your forehead creased with worry, watching him nod in confirmation. "Satoru," your voice trailed off, low and pleading.

His gaze met yours, blindfold off and staring right at you. He didn't have to ask you to know what you were thinking about. Looking away, his voice was quiet and laced with bitterness.

"It won't happen again, I promise."

You took a deep breath and nodded, trusting him for all that he could give you before tossing away the blanket that covered your legs.

"I'm gonna take a shower," you informed and took your clothes from last night before entering the toilet.

Satoru was seated on the edge of the bed, watching as you passed him by, your posture and the way you walked more stable than earlier. He washed over with relief, thankful that you were feeling better.

Although you had assured him that you were used to feeling that way, he was still overwhelmed with worry. But all in all, he was just glad that you were okay.

He heard the water begin to run but his mind was occupied by the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, he read the caller and answered it, informing Ijichi that he had decided to stay another night and have the manager come pick you both up tomorrow at noon.

Eventually, you returned to the bedroom, your hair damp and the ends were held up by the small towel in your hands. You flashed Satoru a glance, feeling shy when you noticed how his eyes were in a trance, staring unashamedly at your figure.

"Stop staring, perv," you huffed, bending over to your bag to get your hairdryer out.

Your words brought him back, and he muttered a small apology before tearing his eyes away from you.

But you really weren't making it easy.

What's worse, he thought, was that you weren't even doing this on purpose yet he was already so desperate for you.

Just as you began drying your hair, Satoru got up abruptly to enter the shower but you paid him no mind.

It didn't take too long for you to finish drying your hair but it certainly took Satoru quite some time in the shower, the sound of water running louder than you've ever heard since yesterday.

You lay back on the bed, massaging your temples to relieve the surges of migraines that hit you. You didn't even realize it when Satoru finished showering, your eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

His towel hung over his shoulder, the end of it moving as he took silent steps towards you. His lips curled in a gentle smile upon noticing the state of your slumber. Your lips were parted to elicit soft snores and he just thought that you looked absolutely adorable.

Careful not to wake you, he brought the blanket up to your shoulders. He took his spot next to you, the bed sinking on his bed as his weight met the mattress.

His gaze snapped to you quickly in panic, his head almost tore off but he relaxed when he noticed that you were not stirring awake. Perhaps the medication caused you to sleep soundly. Either way, Satoru let himself relax next to you, falling asleep on his own.

Your eyes shot open for a second before they closed in an attempt to relieve the surging headache that appeared. Fingers stretched out, you were struggling to find your phone but when you did, you checked to look at the time.

It was only 11 but you knew you must have slept early and Satoru was softly breathing in his sleep next to you. You wanted to get up, stand, and walk to the bathroom to wash your face.

But you had accidentally fallen, causing a loud thud, waking the white-haired sorcerer.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you mumbled from the floor, waving a hand.

His eyes were droopy when he scooted to your side of the bed and stretched his neck out to see you on the floor. He raised a brow laced with confusion and amusement. "You okay down there, princess?"

"Fine," you pursed your lips.

"What are you doing?"

"I was trying to go to the bathroom," you answered lazily.

You pushed yourself up, holding onto the edge of the bed to lift yourself only to be barely an inch away from Satoru's complexion. His eyes were bright on yours, lips twitching to pursue yours against his but he decided against it.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes feeling hazy with the lack of oxygen that stood in the gap between you and your supposed enemy.

Enemy?

Or, was he more of a partner to you at this point?

You pulled away, creating distance when you straightened your back. Satoru was left inhaling the residuals of your scent as you walked to the bathroom.

Cold water splashed across the complexion of your face, bringing relief to the faint feeling of pain that had woken you up. When you returned to the bedroom, Satoru sat up straight so quickly, it was as if he was paying respect to an elder or something.

His eyes were frowning, almost expectant but you ignored it to grab some pills from your bag. You sat on the bed and took your medicine with the water to help you swallow them easier.

"Go to sleep, Satoru," you sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm worried," he pouted and you could hear it in his voice.

"I'm fine," you rolled your eyes, settling your gaze on him. "Sleep."

He didn't budge and you rolled your eyes once again, climbing under the blanket that hugged your body softly. Your back was turned to him as if you were telling him that you were ready to return to sleep.

You stayed that way for a few minutes, hoping that Satoru took it as a sign that he should sleep too. But he didn't. Because when you turned around to lie on your left side, your eyes were met with his that stared back at you.

"Why aren't you going to sleep?" Your voice was gentle and quiet.

"I can't go to sleep with you acting all weird," he shook his head but his movements were constricted by the pillow under his cheek.

A thankful beam adorned your lips while you spoke, "I'm fine, Satoru."

He wasn't sure if it was your smile or the way you said his name that caused him to reach out his hand, brushing a strand of hair to tuck it behind your ear.

"You sure? You seem a little on edge," he hummed, the sound originating from his chest.

His thumb caressed your cheek, his movements causing your eyes to flutter shut as you nuzzled for the warmth he radiated. His body moved closer, his arms on your back to pull you in against him.

Your head collided lightly with his chest, hands going to the shirt over his chest, and your palm splayed out. You felt his lips pressing against the top of your head, leaving you almost weak and helpless under his gentleness.

"We shouldn't do this," you whispered, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"You say that but, you're holding onto me tighter," he murmured lazily, looking down while you looked up, locked on his intimidating blue eyes.

"You promised," your words were choked out unwillingly.

"Turns out I'm not good at keeping promises, princess," a small chuckle escaped him. "It's just you and me here," he assured, his fingers beginning to card through your hair, inching lower and lower to rest on your lower back.

You wondered if Satoru's blue eyes were truly his or just part of the Six Eyes. But it didn't matter.

Because you were looking at him. Just as he was looking at you.

The air in between was heavy and hot and you knew it wasn't just the summer proving its presence. But it didn't matter.

Because Satoru was leaning closer, his neck slightly craning down. Just as yours were tilted up.

There was a gap that acted as a wall of fire, the heat scorching and burning both your and Satoru's skin.

But it seemed that the feelings you both held were much stronger, and the fire was no match for the inferno that itched within the depths of your hearts.

The gap soon burned into non-existence as Satoru pressed his lips against yours, his eyes closing in bliss. It was a soft kiss, chaste and innocent but was deepened by his hand that rested on your lower back.

He pulled you closer against him, your face flushed with his, lips engulfing one another to merge as one. You relaxed, tightening your grasp on his shirt as you pulled yourself up, lips eagerly moving against his as your nose brushed with his.

Satoru couldn't help it.

A soft but muffled moan had escaped past his lips and entered straight through yours before he could stop himself. His hand that stilled on your back lowered itself on your body.

He reached the dip on your body where your back meets your ass, lowering and lowering his fingers down to your ass and he gave it a gentle squeeze. In turn, your lips were parted in a gasp at his touch, allowing his tongue to find purchase within the cavern of your mouth.

Running down your thigh, his hand slowly pulled your leg to have it weigh on him by his waist before his fingers continued to massage the skin of your thighs softly.

"Satoru, wait," you whispered in between kisses, your words taken in by his tongue. "Wait," you repeated, more firmly this time.

His hand stopped its movements, his lips going slack to pull away as his eyes scrunched with worry and hesitance. His chest rose under your grasp, up and down as he breathed heavily with desire.

"We can't," your voice trailed, your eyes closing as a tear fell onto your cheek. "You know we shouldn't do this."

A sigh slipped past his lips, his heart aching with each beat that it took. His hand that wasn't on your thigh rested on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stain of the single tear that fell. He leaned in and kissed the small area of your skin, the taste of your tear meeting his lips.

He gently nudged your head to rest under his chin, his lips pressing a sweet kiss atop your hair. He was gentle even as frustration and guilt colored his skin.

"I know, I know," he cooed into the strands of your hair.

"Why," you sobbed silently against his neck, your tears falling along his skin to his shirt. "Why does it have to be like this?"

He held you tighter against him like he was afraid any distance that would exist would multiply more and more and he would no longer be able to hold you. He was most afraid of that, he was sure.

"Because of our families, the danger that comes with being together when we live in this world of curses, and because," his voice trailed, cracked with emotions. "Because we're not supposed to love each other."

"And do you?" Your words were quick, rushed, and desperate to hear an answer that you hoped would match what you felt.

He slowly pulled away to lock his eyes with yours.

"I've never known what love is, how it looked like, or smelled like, or sounded like," he whispered, low and quiet as he poured his barest thoughts. "I've searched for it night and day, and I was always clueless. I didn't know what was right. But I know now, I've known for a while. Love is," he paused, fingers going to cup your cheek. "Love smells like lavender and rosemary with hints of rose petals. Love sounds like the way you say my name, the way you laugh, and the way you are constantly nagging at me when you pretend to hate me. And most of all, I know that love looks like you."

Your lips allowed a light giggle to escape, bringing a genuine smile to Satoru's lips. "But we should hate each other, shouldn't we?"

A bitter laugh escaped Satoru, his arms tightening around you.

"We should. We've always been told to, but we don't. That's the problem, right?" He hummed, a hand of his now on your lower back again. Slowly, he leaned into the crook of your neck, just the spot where your ear met your jawline, his voice speaking softly, "But how am I supposed to hate you when all I can think about is how much I want to be with you every day." A kiss was placed on your skin, "I want to wake up next to you," another kiss, lower on your neck this time, "Hear you laugh," another kiss, "Be the one to make you laugh. I can't stop thinking about how much I love you and how much I need you."

Tears leaked from your eyes, falling onto his white-colored hair but he didn't care. His head rested on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck.

But he pulled away before his cheek could leave a lingering warmth on your skin. Gaze locked onto you, blue eyes flickered to your lips as he leaned down again, his lips gentle on yours.

It was sweet but there was no mistake that something much darker hid beneath the innocence of his action.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he murmured against your lips, panting slightly with the way your hand gripped his shoulder.

"Don't," you shook your head, eyes scrunched to allow your tears to escape. "Please don't stop."

It didn't take Satoru long at all, barely even half a second after your last word before he was back on your lips.

Just like Satoru, you couldn't even let a second pass before kissing him back, your emotions uncovered with all that you could give him in that kiss.

"I love you," he whispered in between your lips, slightly muffled but with the lack of distance you two shared, it didn't matter.

A smile drew on your lips and he could feel it, he almost died.

Not that he would have cared.

If he were to die against you, lips attached to yours like magnets of opposite poles, he would die happy.

"I love you," you answered, chasing the taste of his feather-light lips on yours.

"I'll always love you," he assured, brushing the skin of his nose against yours in a small bump.

Pulling away, you dared not to remove your eye contact with him. "Even if one day my family tells me to kill you?" Your voice was shaky, reminded of such a dark possibility.

Satoru's eyes darkened, a sigh escaping as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Even then, I'll still love you," he whispered to the air you both shared. "And I'll always hope that you'll choose me instead of them."

Maybe he was being selfish.

But at this point, he already knew he was a selfish man.

He allowed his desire and love for you to take you both this far. That was more than enough proof that Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes, was a selfish man.

"I don't know how," you sobbed softly.

"I know, princess, I know," he comforted with his thumb wiping away your tears before he peppered soft kisses on where your tears once stood. "I don't want you to have to choose, but-"

"But?"

"But if it comes down to it, I hope you'll choose me. I hope you'll choose us," he sighed, wanting to curse himself for being so goddamn honest even knowing that his honesty was just the words of a selfish man.

But Satoru Gojo was a selfish man.

Your eyes closed, and a sigh escaped you as you allowed yourself to lean into Satoru. Your lips met his and just as quickly, his lips engulfed yours.

It was warm and welcoming, things you were never accustomed to up until now.

"I love you," he repeated, pulling away to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"We can't be together, Satoru," you sniffled as you let him kiss your skin.

"I know," he nodded, pulling you close against him. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you. I want you so bad it hurts," his voice cracked as his head fell slumped on your shoulder, finding security in the dip of your neck.

"Where, Satoru? Where does it hurt?" You whispered into his ear.

"Here," he answered, taking your wrist and resting your palm on his shirt, just above his heart. "Can you hear how my heart beats for you?"

You could hear it all, feel it all.

"I can make it hurt less," you suggested quietly.

"No," he said, fingers gripping your wrist tightly.

"Why not?"

"I want my heart to be honest when it comes to you. I want to let it beat for you as it does."

"Even if it hurts?" You asked gently.

"I want to hurt for you," he answered to the skin of your neck.

Your hands tugged on his shirt, trying to get his attention. His head tilted up, creating a little distance, one that he quite hated.

But it didn't matter.

Not when your lips found home on his, pushing into the kiss desperately. A muffled groan slipped past Satoru, his body arching into you to deepen the kiss.

The kiss was no longer the kind you both had shared a few times over the course of the night. The hidden darkness had taken over, desire creating a mess of tongues clashing.

He stole the opportunity the moment he was presented with it, his tongue entering your mouth to slide along yours and you almost couldn't help the way your lips hungrily sucked onto it, a silent whimper of yours hidden beneath the collision.

One of your hands had found its way to the back of Satoru's head, fingers entangled in his white locks while your other hand was gripping onto his bicep as if it was a way to keep yourself grounded before losing truly to the desire that was quickly burning in your body.

The way Satoru couldn't keep his hands still definitely hadn't helped your case. His touches were no longer feather-light, instead, they were hungry and rough as they roamed your back, your hip, your ass, and your thighs.

At this point, he wasn't even just touching you but groping, giving your flesh squeezes here and there as he pleased.

And oh God, was he pleased.

He was drinking in everything about you.

The soft whimpers of yours that he swallowed deliciously and the way your body would tense and relax over and over again with every move of his hand. Satoru was noting every little thing about you that he never could before.

He was sure he had memorized your body now and he hadn't even done anything.

But you weren't the only one falling victim to passion. Satoru was just as big of a mess as you were, groaning with every squeeze that he would give you. He was hopeless, truly lost to the way you were giving him all that he could ever dream of.

"I need you so bad," Satoru moaned against your lips and you let out a gasp, feeling the rough grip he held on your hip.

"Show me," you whispered against his lips, letting your noses brush teasingly.

His eyes widened at how easily you accepted it. Pulling back, his hands were shaky on your hip as his eyes contacted yours.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse with desire, barely a whisper as if he was afraid. "I don't want to hurt you."

Your hand on his arms snaked to cup his jaw, your thumb gently tracing the skin under his eyes. "I trust you, Satoru."

He closed his eyes, leaning right into your touch as if it was home. And maybe, it was.

Actually, Satoru was sure it was.

"But if it's too much, just tell me to stop, okay?" He assured gently.

"Okay," you nodded with a smile that he knew could have easily fished him out of darkness anytime he found his way in such a place.

With both of his hands on your hips, Satoru pulled you flush against him, lips meeting once again with an elevated taste of desire. You let him lift your leg to rest on his leg.

Your palm was on his chest and you used it to push him to lie on his back against the mattress but you never once disconnected the mess that was created by your lips against his.

Satoru gripped your hips tighter, holding you on him while he moved back so that he was sitting upright, his legs stretched out. You straddled his right leg, your fingers roaming his hair.

Tugging on the ends of the white locks in an attempt to get his attention, Satoru groaned deeply, feeling his pants growing tighter. It was safe to say that this was the only time you had failed to get his attention.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, needing a moment to breathe but Satoru's arms immediately wrapped your behind and his head followed you forward, desirous for the taste of your tongue.

God, he had waited so long for this, not even knowing if it would ever come true.

But there he sat, under you and he never thought he could ever be this happy. His hands were everywhere but they rested on the edge where your shirt ends.

"Take- Take this off," he gasped into your lips, a whine following him as he tugged the fabric.

He only pulled you away to roughly pull your shirt over your head, almost ripping it as he gleamed with impatience. The shirt was thrown somewhere on the floor but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

He was quick to have his lips on yours again for a few seconds before he leaned back, hastily taking off his shirt. The room was dark and it remained that way but the light that shone through the windows was enough for you to admire him.

His body was showered with old scars, beautiful as they glimmered in the dark due to his sweat. You didn't have enough time before Satoru stole your view of his toned abdomen, his tongue already prodding for your lips to open.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whimpered with his tongue deep in your mouth.

His right hand was steadily holding you on your lower back, his left hand flying up to your breasts, groping the flesh over your bra. His lips lowered to your jawline, peppering hungry kisses as they trailed down your neck.

Soft whines escaped you, his lips on your neck driving you wild. He was relentless with every movement of his.

His hand on your boobs was overwhelmingly rough. And the feeling of his soft lips was so contrasting with how mean he was biting your skin and licking over it to soothe.

Your head tilted back, using your hand on the back of his head to keep him to the exposed skin on your neck. He was leaving marks but your mind was too hazy, feeling arousal begin to pool in your panties.

You felt his hand on your back skilfully unclasped the hook of your bra, the piece of clothing now on the floor with your shirt (you assumed). Pushing you against him, your back arched slightly, almost screaming when his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple.

His mouth was hot on your chest, moving from one tit to the other with extreme hunger. He moaned around the flesh, louder and getting more high-pitched with the way your fingers tugged on his hair to keep him sucking expertly on you.

He was growing harder, his cock throbbing with every sound you made, a harmony of pleasure that he caused.

Your hand wandered lower down his body, feeling the rough remnants of scars and you let your fingers trace over them longer, appreciating each and every one of them as you commit the picture to memory.

Satoru felt his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he hid in the crook of your neck.

"They're from old battles," he whispered in your ear softly.

You pulled away, seeing him colored by blood rushing under his skin. "You're so handsome, Satoru," you caressed his cheeks, encouraging him to look into your eyes.

"R-Really?" He gaped in wonder, his eyes scrunched with the need for your validation.

"You're the most handsome man I've ever seen, Satoru," you nodded, a soft smile drawn on your complexion.

You leaned forward and took his lips in between yours, cupping his jaw to keep him moving against you. Satoru's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking up in heat.

His cheeks were hot, embarrassed by his own lack of self-control and he prayed that you hadn't noticed it. But of course you did.

How could you not notice it when his hard bulge rubbed at the skin of your thigh?

Your hands danced lower on his body, lower and lower until you reached his happy trail, the feeling of the soft hair tingling underneath your fingertips. You reached the hem of his pants, pulling it and slipping your hands past his boxers.

"F-Fuck," he moaned when he felt your fingers softly grazing his tip that leaked pre-cum. "Please," he croaked out, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire.

"Hmm?" You hummed teasingly against his lips before going to his neck, now exposed with his head tilted back.

You couldn't help but feel proud as you teased him, taking in the sight of his desperation.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, was quite literally crumbling in the palm of your hands.

Your lips latched onto his skin, kissing, sucking, and biting down on his sensitive spots. Satoru cried out with a whimper, his hands on your waist now tightening as he felt every bit of your touch on him. His hips moved, seeking friction as he tried to fuck himself on your hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, his voice broken and desperate with your slow movements. "Touch me, please," he moaned, begging in desperation.

Your lips on his neck curved in a smirk, pleased with yourself at how well you've crumbled the man. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his dick and you could feel how girthy he was, still growing as he throbbed under your skin.

His head fell to your shoulders, crying softly with his hips weakly chasing your hand. You set a steady pace for your hands, moving them up and down his cock, occasionally pumping his base and swiping the endlessly leaking pre on his slit.

Satoru's hands could only rest on your back, fingernails digging crescents as he put up with the pace of your hands. But it wasn't enough, not at all.

By your ears, he pleaded, voice stuttering as he said, "M-More."

You nodded, heeding his wishes as you quickened your pace. Satoru showered your ear with the sounds of his pleasure, his hands now back to groping every part of your skin that he could.

But his head stilled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more shallow with each jerk of his hips. He was a man on a mission and his mission was to reach his release at the hands of you - quite literally.

He needed more, not even caring about how fast he was approaching that high. His hand gripped one of yours on his cock, guiding your fingers to work faster on himself.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," he breathed heavily against your ears.

You could feel his dick twitching in your hands that were entangled with his very own. The pace he set with his hand on yours was rough and fast, you were beginning to lose it but his hand gripped yours tighter, fisting himself with your hands.

"I'm close," he moaned, low and slightly muffled with the skin of your shoulder pressing against his lips.

"It's okay, it's okay," you cooed softly, causing him to lean back.

In the darkness of the night, his eyes made contact with yours, noticing the red color that flushed your skin, undoubtedly matching his. Your lips were red and bitten and his heart swelled knowing that he had caused that.

"You can let go," you whispered, eyes boring into his.

Satoru nodded, his face inching closer to yours to pull you in a kiss. It was soft, quick, and gentle.

Unlike the way he was helping you please him, passionate yet fast like he was racing against time.

But he really was approaching his high and you took notes of the few things you noticed about him in such a vulnerable state.

The way his cock twitched in your hand, his hips bucking and moving erratically, his breathing shallow as he panted endlessly and most of all, the way his eyes were screwed shut in bliss, his moans growing higher in notes that melodiously passed through your ears.

"Ah- ah- I'm-" His words were cut off by his own gasps of pleasure consuming him.

You felt the thick substance on your fingers when Satoru reached his high. His eyes were closed in bliss, the sight so beautiful and erotic, that you had it memorized freshly in your mind.

His hand was slack against yours, leaving you the freedom to slow down the pace, helping him ride through his orgasm. His chest rose heavily, trying to regain his steady breathing.

"How does that feel?" You hummed, using his lack of focus to kiss his jawline, peppering sweet kisses all over his skin.

His eyes opened, heavily lidded, his pale skin now flushed and relaxed. "So good," he smiled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the warmth you provided.

"Good," you smiled, tufts of cloud-like hair rustling your lips as you stroked his hair gently.

Satoru gently guided your hands out of his pants and led them to his tongue, licking off all his essence that smeared your skin. You hummed appreciatively at his actions, eyes fluttering with love and all that you were.

"Thank you, princess," he murmured, earning a nod from you who was oblivious to the glint of mischief that drawled on his lips. "Let me repay you," he whispered.

He didn't give you a chance to question his words before using his hands on your hips to flip you. You were laid on your back as Satoru crawled onto you, his right hand roaming your skin while his left hand cupped your jaw.

Sharing an ardent kiss, you whimpered at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. He pulled away, lips now praying onto your skin as he left marks to scatter you.

His fingers at your shorts were teasing and slow, agonizing as you closed your eyes. You felt him moving up, and your eyes met him immediately as he ghosted over your complexion.

"May I?" He giggled softly, tugging at your shorts. You nodded with consent but he shook his head with a smile, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. "Say it, baby."

"Yes," you breathed before leaning up to kiss him. "Please do."

He smirked against your lips, pulling away.

He went to sit on his knees, both his hands by your sides, gently pulling off your shorts, and leaving you in your underwear. His smirk grew wider at the sight of the apparent wet spot that stained your undergarment.

You propped yourself up by the elbows, watching as he teasingly brought your panties down to your ankles and through your feet. He dangled it in front of him, teasing you with slight hints of mockery and you rolled your eyes exasperatedly.

"Satoru!" You scolded with wide eyes as you watched him jumble the piece of fabric in his hand and keep it in the pocket of his pants.

"Relax, I'll buy more for you," he winked before returning his eyes to you.

Or rather, your pussy.

Glistening under the faint color of night, Satoru sat still with eyes of awe, he was sure there were hearts bulging in his eyes. He was quiet, only admiring his view that had caused his pants to tighten again.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You mumbled, shy and looking away with red cheeks as you closed your legs but were stopped by Satoru's hand in between.

"I'm admiring you," he said with a tut, gently spreading your legs. "You're just so fucking irresistible," he moaned, placing a kiss on your inner thigh once he lay on his stomach.

"Satoru," you breathed, letting your head fall on the pillow.

"I mean it, baby, you're so beautiful," he hummed against your pussy, his hot breath fanning the most sensitive parts of you. "The prettiest girl ever and this," he smiled, placing his lips to ghost over your entrance, "This is certainly the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"And how many have you seen?" You quirked a brow, a tinge of jealousy brewing under your skin.

"Does it matter?" He huffed with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I don't know," you mumbled.

His lips lifted in a playful smirk. He rested his head on his knuckles that were propped up by his elbows. His eyes flickered from your cunt and to your eyes, unsure of which part of you he wanted to see.

"Are you jealous, princess?" He purred mischievously.

"Shut up," you groaned, lifting yourself up by your elbows to glare at the man.

"Gladly," he murmured silently before using his hands to pull you into his face by the back of your thighs.

"Satoru!" You yelped, taken aback by the sudden way his tongue licked a long stripe along the lips of your pussy.

"My God, love, you taste so good," he moaned, the vibrations coursing through you.

He smirked against your cunt, pulling you flush against his as he prodded into you. His nose nudged your clit, causing you to close your eyes in bliss.

"Shit," you breathed out in a moan, your hand covering your mouth.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Satoru's voice was low, vibrating against your cunt and it caused you to clench on his finger.

"What?" You frowned, unable to think anything about how his fingers managed to reach you in the deepest parts.

"Let me hear you," he whined, almost childlike. "You sound pretty," his eyes gazed at you, round and desperate with his puppy eyes. "Tastes so good, too. Like heaven," he said, licking your essence that had dripped down his chin.

He wasn't lying.

Satoru thought that if he were ever to get a taste of heaven, it would taste like you.

He returned his focus to your pussy when he noticed you heeding his wishes. His fingers left you only to be replaced by his tongue.

And you never thought his tongue could actually pleasure you this much but there you were, moaning and whimpering as he started tongue-fucking you. His groans were heavy against your pussy, and you could feel it morph into building pleasure, your cunt clenching on his tongue.

Your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed and Satoru noticed it from the corner of his eyes. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his hair instead.

You immediately pulled at his hair, the man now rolling his eyes with pleasurable pain. His fingers began toying with your clit but his movements soon quickened in pace.

"Oh my God," you cried, pulling his head further into your cunt.

Satoru used his left hand to lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to give himself more access to devour you. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, lost in the pleasure that Satoru was giving you.

"There, Satoru- Ngh, right there," you whimpered when his tongue reached that one spot inside you, feeling his flesh prod at it over and over again.

You felt the familiar build-up of pleasure all over your body. Satoru was working at you expertly, his fingers flicking at your clit with technique and skill.

"I'm- Fuck- 'm close," you whined, your breathing growing shallow as you gasped for air, desperately chasing your peak by grinding on Satoru's face.

"Go on, princess," he smiled with eagerness and awe. "On my mouth, come on," he giggled slightly, eyes blown open as he anticipated.

He didn't falter his movements at all, only adding the amount of aggression and speed. His eyes rolled in absolute bliss at the way your pussy clenched so tightly onto his tongue, refusing to let him go.

He wondered how it would feel with his cock inside you. He groaned just thinking about it.

"Fuck," you moaned loudly, feeling your orgasm crash over your body.

Your body squirmed, your fingers still in his hair. Your hips slowed down but Satoru's tongue had not.

He was drinking you up, staying true to his intentions. You could hear the wet sounds of Satoru slurping as he helped you through your orgasm.

Your chest breathed heavily, trying to regain the senses that you had lost to the way Satoru had pleasured you on his tongue. Your eyes were hazy, watching as Satoru approached you.

His skin glistened with your essence and you thought he looked so beautiful like that.

"Hi," you uttered breathily.

"Hi, love," he smiled gently, so sweet and lacking any hints of desire. "How do you feel?" He asked, his finger tracing your cheek and wiping away any tears of yours that had fallen.

"Feels good," you whispered softly.

"Great," he leaned in, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on him. "You're so perfect," he murmured, pulling away from the kiss. "Really, so gorgeous. And beautiful. And you taste so sweet. God, I can't believe I've waited this long to taste you, baby," he groaned as he yapped to you about yourself as if you weren't you.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed and red.

"Shut me up, then," he grinned proudly.

You looked at him with a pair of judgy eyes before bringing your hand to the back of his head, pulling him to kiss you. He kissed back fervently, so hungry for more with the way the kiss deepened, creating a mess of spit and slick.

"Satoru," you called in between kisses.

"Hmm?"

If Satoru were to pinpoint exactly only one thing about you that he loved, he was sure now that his answer would be the way you say his name.

Everyone says his name in a rushing manner and he was used to it. But you?

You ring out each and every syllable as if you had all the time in the world. You say his name as if to remind you that it was his, that it was only his.

Although, he was sure that his name was created just for you to speak of.

But most of all, you say his name and enunciate every bit of it as if it were important. As if he was important.

"Please, take this off," you begged, tugging at his pants.

He smiled, pulling away to obey your words. You took in the sight of Satoru Gojo in his most vulnerable state, the most bare he could ever be. Your thighs rubbed against each other, desire creeping up your skin.

"Not again," he beamed, using his hand to spread your legs, exposing yourself. "Come on," he nudged your nose gently, his hands wrapping around you before flipping you around.

His back rested against the headboard of the bed and you were sat in between his legs. His gaze lingered on yours, fingers caressing your jawline lovingly. He placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you," he whispered lowly in the air.

"I love you," you answered with as much fervor and love, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The kiss continued, blossoming into something more as passion rained over. His hands are safe against your back, pulling you in closer, flushed against his body.

"Do you want to-"

"Yes," you nodded eagerly, panting into the gap that was a mix of breaths.

Satoru's hands lowered to your ass, giving it a little squeeze while he helped you straddle him. His gaze went down and yours followed.

Both of you watched as he aligned himself to your aching hole. Your breath hitched momentarily when his red tip rubbed against the entrance of your pussy.

Your body slumped on Satoru's, your head falling into the crook of his neck. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly while he helped you lower yourself on his cock.

The second his cock began to enter, Satoru threw his head back, his lips parted to release a groan. You whimpered into his neck, muffled by his skin.

He was stretching your walls so good, you felt dizzy but full. You could feel his length inside you, and you were scared of even moving.

Once he was buried inside you to the hilt, he held you still to let you adjust to his size.

"You're so big, Satoru," you cried softly into his ears.

"Sorry, love," he gave you a light chuckle. "Whenever you're ready, okay? I can stay inside you like this for however long you'll let me."

"Don't- Don't say shit like that," you glared but it came off half-assedly.

"Why not? It's the truth, princess," he pouted, gently stroking your back for comfort.

"I can move now," you informed, slowly lifting yourself up with a moan.

"Shit, baby," he whimpered.

His hands returned to your ass, lifting you up as well. His entire length almost left you, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. You lowered yourself quickly, moaning in pleasure as he stretched you.

"So- Ngh- You're s'tight," he whimpered, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

You whined, slowly setting a steady pace as you began to move up and down his cock that throbbed inside you. Satoru was losing his composure and he found himself thrusting his cock inside you further.

"Fuck!" You almost screamed, falling limp into his body.

Satoru's hands on your hips tightened, his breathing erratic. He leaned into you, peppering kisses along your jawline, endlessly muttering, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

You nodded against his hair, pulling him impossibly closer but he leaned back. His arms around you guiding you to bounce on his cock, the pace increasing in speed harshly.

The sound of skin slapping against one another, paired with the wet noises of your slick mixing with his echoed throughout the room. His eyes longingly gazed into yours, flickering to your lips that were parted as a way for your whimpers to escape.

His brows furrowed eagerly, hungry to have more of you to taste. You had no idea how but it was as if you knew exactly what he wanted.

Giving him a slow nod, you collected the substance at the tip of your tongue before opening your mouth. Your tongue stuck out, and he watched with darkened anticipation as your spit fell onto his tongue and he swallowed it, humming as he did so.

He was near satisfaction, having something of yours inside of him, marking him up for life the way a ring couldn't. It would serve him as a reminder of the night you shared, not that he could ever forget any of it.

Satoru was desperate now, even more eager to mark you up the same way you marked him. His hips thrust into you, the pain smoothing out into pleasure that caused your back to arch into him.

"Shit, I think I'm close," he muttered, grunting with each clench of your pussy on his cock.

"Me too," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him. "Satoru," you breathed next to his ear, earning a whine from him. "You can cum inside me if you want."

If he wants?

God, he needs.

He nodded eagerly, fingers carding through strands of your hair to meet him. His hips were growing sloppy, his focus was on you and only you.

Your lips latched onto his, letting him swallow your moans through his tongue that explored your mouth. He knew you were close, reminding himself of all the ways you would show the signs.

You were clenching so tightly around him, almost refusing to let go of him. His eyes rolled back, feeling the way you arched yourself into him without ever breaking the kiss.

"Satoru," you moaned loudly into him as you cried, letting your orgasm consume you.

He groaned inside your lips, the sound of his cock fucking into your cum was making him dizzy in all the best ways possible. His pace never faltered, only quickening.

His hands guided your ass still but your mind was too hazy to be able to control your body. It was his lone effort as he fucked himself into your cunt, his cock spasming inside you until finally, he released with a loud cry of your name.

You whined, feeling his warm semen mix with your own, dripping down his cock and falling to the sheets. His thrusts slowed down as he rode out his high, pushing his cum further and further into you. His head tilted back in heavenly bliss as his eyes were heavy on yours.

"I love you so much," he muttered, kissing you softly as you both settled.

"I love you, too," you replied with a small smile.

He remained inside of you for a little while before helping you get off him. He gently let you lie on the mattress as he climbed over you.

"Satoru," you called, causing him to study you properly. "If tonight is the only time we could ever do this, then, I think I want more."

Your words caused darkness to shadow his eyes. His lips settled into a gentle smile as he kissed you lovingly, pouring out all his emotions into such a simple and chaste press of lips.

"If tonight is the only night we could be together, then let's have each other until we're satisfied."

But neither of you thought you could ever be satisfied living a life without one another.

Still, it will have to do.

Because he was a Gojo.

And you were a Zenin.

And Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes will have to leave behind the only light in his life that stood in the shape of you.

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dfortrafalgar · 4 months

Text

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path. How many bars had you gone to again? Four? Five, maybe? Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had. It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were. Was it mango-flavored? What street were you even on now? You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement. She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight! My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed. “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish. The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk! We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku. “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought. You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added. Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations. You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one. Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance. “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system. It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink. Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting. The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps. You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric. Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled. Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review. He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum. “Enjoy the night, ladies.” His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous. The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding. Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space. It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar. Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken. Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices. A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers. You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.

“At least we can stand here! It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention. Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose. You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end. His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume. “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register. Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.

The man behind the counter cackled. “That’s a pineapple daiquiri! It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction. “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work. You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks. It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating. Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing. His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work. His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo! Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled. “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response. “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter. A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat. “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami. “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing. I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami! Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now. It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was. Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass. He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass. As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours. Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering. He held up the drink. It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time. An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything? Did you say anything?” The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour. You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music. You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman). The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be. You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly. With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume. The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete. You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock. Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks. A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant. Who was talking to you? Did you get followed to the bathroom? Were you being watched? Were you in danger? Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami? Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one. “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety. The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you. Had he just complimented your ass? “And, uhm, thank you! For my ass. I mean, for saying I look good. Or, phenomenal, I think?” You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk. I’ll wait for you out here.” The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same. The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business. You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone. He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans. The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain. Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly. He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed. Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before. Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first. Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen. You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me? Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded. “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all. But how could I pass up such an alluring face?” He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom. His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated. “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes. “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.” His golden eyes met yours once more. “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now. You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments. A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull. You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good! You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself. The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours. You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er. He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours. The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet. He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside. The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club. The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head. His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor. Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier. Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders. Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was. A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval. You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered. “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information. You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath. “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband. “Anything for you, princess.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #catch up fic

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