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chososdiscordkitten · 4 months

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MDNI

Pt 1 here

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader Content: no use of y/n, SOME plot, read pt 1 for context, BREEDING KINK, PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, reader has an iud that Gojo is NOT a fan of, manipulating, reader is a lil dumb lol, talk of birth control and hiding it, creampies 24/7, mentions of NURSING and BRESTFEEDING, 'wife' used like twice Word count: 3.3k

(a.n) I kept getting asked for pt 2 so here it is. more plot, not so much smut this time lol

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It had been 3 months since Gojo came to the conclusion that pregnancy was the solution to his fear of you finding someone else. Seeing you come out of the bathroom, a bath towel wrapped around you as small droplets fell from your neck.

Looking at you bewildered as though this was the greatest disappointment he had ever felt. You were talking about something- something irrelevant to the issue at hand.

Why you weren't swelling with his child right now. Why you were denying him- the world of the next generation of Gojo babies.

And it’s not like he could keep letting out those little ‘get pregnant’ comments while he fucked you, often contemplating asking you to gag him so they wouldn’t slip. You had your suspicions, not outwardly saying it but if one more little comment fell from him you'd be forced to ask.

Satoru was sure that your medical state wasn't an issue, he carefully combed through your medical records to find any sort of reason as to why you weren't pregnant. One appointment 3 years ago for an iud insertion, and one appointment to get it removed a few weeks after you met him.

And it's not like he was the issue here, he made sure he was fine in that aspect. Gojo was sure he was fine- and you had no issues with getting pregnant.

So, the solution to his fear needed a solution too. No problem, this just meant he had to fuck you even more now. More often, and even move you into his apartment. Permanently.

He was hung up in his own little world as his eyes burned holes through your damp skin. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Gojo quickly fixed his face as he looked at you with a smile, “M’just thinking about havin you move into my place.” He hummed, folding his arms to rest beneath his head. Eyes following your expression as you waited for him to continue, “You're already here all the time~” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in defense.

“That's because you can't keep your hands off of me for longer than an hour.” you laughed as he pursed his lips, feeling like he was being scolded in that moment. Knowing you meant it as a joke- but it was true.

No matter how many showers- how many breaks. Satoru was always ready to go again, and again, and again. Praying that this time will be the one. Gojo daydreamed of coming home to you, breasts swelled with milk to welcome his child into the world.

Glow on your skin and tummy growing his child. Twins, he'd fantasize. “We should just get married while we're at it.” he’d joke, knowing if he kept bringing it up, you'd cave. Knowing you weren't the kind of person to co-parent.

But those daydreams were always cut short. Whenever he'd message you saying he wanted to see you, only for you to tell him you were on your period.

We all know that never stopped him, but the disappointment knowing his attempts were in vain, always made him try even harder next time.

And yes you did question his constant need to fuck you, at times fully skipping prep and pushing into you- knowing you didn’t really need it since you had cleaned yourself up from the last round not to long ago.

How he'd bite his tongue whenever you'd ask him to cum inside. And I mean lets be real, when has Gojo ever bit his tongue during sex?

All but telling you to ‘shut up’ when you’d whisper in his ear, “Fill me up-” knowing if you didn't, he'd start babbling words that had been boxed up at the back of i his mind.

That one time Gojo let them slip, the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock greedily, the words pushed themselves past his lips forcefully.

“Get pregnant” he demanded of you, only you didn't listen. You found it an odd thing to say- sure. But knowing him, he’s said worse things in the heat of the moment.

You always chalked up Satoru’s babbles before he came as meaningless words, knowing you shouldn't hold him to the promises and threats he'd make before he came.

Gojo’s made empty proposals into your ears before, “S-so good, m-” he hesitated, a low whine leaving his lips by just thinking about what he was about to say, “-marry me hm?~” he’d whisper as he overstimulated your senses.

Making sure you kept your eyes open to look at him, taking in the desperate sight of his forming ‘o’ face. Ears being fully invaded by the vulgar squelching from his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and his unforgiving whines and moans.

Both of your hands gripping tightly on his back, knowing you'd leave raised marks on his skin. So caught up in your own orgasm you'd say ‘yes’ to any of his questions right now.

And there was nothing Satoru liked more than asking you questions when you were close to cumming, fully taking advantage of you not being able to think straight.

Even if you had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned from the last round. He'd still toss that useless towel off of you and go again, making sure to keep you on the edge- not fully giving in to your pleads and you urging him to hurry up.

Relishing in the idea that round after round, unable to count just how many times he's cum inside of you that weekend- you're still up for more.

“You wanna go get tested together?” he asked you randomly one morning, making you look at him with furrowed eyes.

“Do I have to get tested?” you asked, unknowing that he had other sexual partners. Satoru let out a small laugh at your accusatory tone.

“No.” he smiled playfully, “I just thought it would be fun.” He hummed. And as he requested, you and him ended up in a clinic. Getting tested for any diseases or any issues.

And Gojo insisted he stay in the room as the nurse asked you the embarrassing questions. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam table, fiddling with your thumbs and thinking of how stupid it was to do this after months of having unprotected sex.

Looking over at Satoru and seeing a smile on his lips as you heard the paper wrinkle below you.

“Are you sexually active?” the overworked nurse flashed her eyes to you above the clipboard. You sighed, “Yes.” Looking over at his smug smile.

“What kind? Oral, vaginal, anal?” she asked, looking at you. This would've been fine if it was just you and the nurse, but having Gojo in the room with you made this even more humiliating.

“Uh-” you hesitated, eyes flashing to Satoru and back to the nurse. “...All?” you hesitated, shrinking in your seat when you heard her check three boxes with the pen in her hand.

“How many people have you had sex with in the past six months?” she asked nonchalantly, obviously having bigger issues in the world than what was happening in this room right now.

“One.” you answered, making Gojo’s chest swell with pride, knowing you were being faithful- even if there wasn't a label on what he was to you.

“In the last 12 months?” the nurse asked, you sighed, looking over at his smug face. “One.” your tone was a little more stern, knowing if you had said anything else this would've ended in a very different way.

“Are you or your partner trying to get pregnant?” the nurse flashed her eyes to Gojo, seeing him mouth a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you answered, making the nurse look back at you and check no on the clipboard.

“Are you or your partner using contraceptives or birth control?” the nurse exhaled, your hands between your knees, ‘no’ Satoru answered the question mentally.

“Yes.” you answered honestly, making him furrow his eyebrows and snap his eyes to you. You looked at him, turning your head as though you were asking him ‘what?’

“What kind?” the nurse asked, looking at you directly.

“I've had an iud for 3 years.” you looked back at her, hearing her write down on the paper. Satoru’s mind started remembering the online records he read, he was so sure he saw an appointment for a removal on them.

“Any plans on removal, or renewing?” she asked, side eyeing Gojo who muttered a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you scoffed, looking at the nurse thinking he was just trying to be funny, “I had an appointment for removal- but I didn't go.” you admitted, looking over at Gojo who was suddenly sitting very stiff.

“Okay-” the nurse started, clipping the pen into her pocket and taking a step back towards the door- “The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse gave a fake smile before stepping out of the small examination room.

A soul killing silence was in the room, mentally Gojo was scolding you for not telling him.

“Why didn't you get ‘it’ removed?” referring to the pesky little thing inside of you, you furrowed your eyebrows.

You tried remembering why you didnt go, “Hmm,” you pondered, looking at him, seeing an opportunity to lighten the heavy tension in the room. “I met you and somehow I knew I'd need it.” you joked, making him let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Besides, you didn't really think I was letting you finish inside of me without birth control…Right?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

That's exactly what Gojo thought, he thought that you loved him enough to not care about the repercussions that followed his addiction of cumming inside of you.

Satoru was silent, “Right?” you asked again, throwing him from his train of thought.

He stuttered, “I-I just don't remember you mentioning it.” he gave you a half smile, already plotting how he'd convince you to remove it.

“You never asked.” you scoffed, dangling your feet from the examining table, with a smile you looked at him. “And it's a good thing-” you huffed, “If I didn't have it- your apartment would be crawling with a bunch of Gojo toddlers.” You joked with a laugh.

The thought made his heart crack, picturing all of the wasted cum he's pumped into you. His pouting lip for the rest of the appointment worried you, not hearing anymore dumb comments or seeing him smile anymore. In your mind, you thought that maybe he didn't like that you hid this from him.

That to his sensitive feelings, this was a sort of betrayal. To Satoru this was just another hurdle he'd have to jump over to achieve his goal.

On the drive back to his place you held onto the negative tests from both of you. Gojo was thinking of all the ways he'd be able to convince you to remove it, even thinking about including Mei in his plans. Knowing if the words came from another woman, you'd hear them more clearly than if they came from him.

All it would take was a few bucks and she’d play along with his plans, yeah. That's a good idea.

He wanted to call Mei right there as he was driving, urging her to call you and tell you how bad iud’s were for your health. But he knew this idea would have to be nursed in your mind with time. ‘1? No, 2 months is more than enough time.’

Eventually you were convinced that iud’s were the devil, with Mei telling you horror stories about them in one ear, and ads on your phone showing birth control pills as an alternative from how much you were speaking about this.

You knew that Satoru wouldn't go back to using condoms, the conversation of asking him to use them would be futile.

So you got it removed, with Gojo telling you that it's for the best. “That poor little thing was probably working overtime heh~” he’d whisper into your ear. Taking one pill a day was tedious, but you did it for your own health.

Even if Satoru joked that- “You don't even need any birth control~” you still took it. Everyday for the first month.

Of course, Gojo was elated at his success. Knowing that the small pack of pills were easier to hide than something that was inside of you.

And with staying at his place more often than not- leaving the pack of pills in your bag became an unsecure hiding place. Oftentimes finding the pack in odd places that you certainly did not put them. When you wouldn't be able to find them, you'd ask him if he's seen them. Making him nod his head ‘no’ with a content smile.

Ultimately leading you to miss one or two days of taking the pill. And that led you to forgetting if you had taken a pill that day or not, but checking the pack, and seeing there was one missing from that day, you knew you did. Unknowing that Satoru was punching out the small pill and tossing it, knowing how forgetful you were at times.

The hopes of you being forgetful weren't the only thing he was counting on. Satoru made sure to keep a steady routine of intercourse after any activity.

Breakfast? He'd push you against the counter and kiss you- humming into your mouth before pulling away. “You taste like syrup-” he whispered against you. Making you let out a small giggle before connecting your lips to his once more.

Not caring if the half eaten pancakes would go cold, Satoru would gladly empty himself into you over and over again on the same counter he was just making breakfast on.

Morning, noon, and night he filled you up. And it's not like you had any second thoughts, besides it's like Satoru justified it.

“It just takes a little bit of water nd soap and you're clean again.” whenever you told him you didn't want to make a mess. Saying that sheets can be cleaned whenever he’d dirty them.

“Mops exist.” he’d defend whenever his seed would spill out of you and land on the floor.

If he was being honest, just knowing his cum was being spilled made his soul cry. So he found a solution to this problem. Cockwarming. It was perfect in his mind, being able to stay inside of you till he was sure his load had more than enough time to impregnate you. Now having a fondness for keeping you plugged up afterwards.

Not letting you clean up by saying, “Let's just stay like this.” he’d hum in your ear, holding you close as he pretended to go to sleep. And knowing how stubborn he was- like a perfect future wife, you'd let him.

As much as he liked to take all the credit, fate finally granted him his wish. And it was as he pictured it.

Satoru noticed a shimmering glow on your cheekbones long before you did, he felt the difference in the way your breasts filled his hands.

The way you'd cover your nose whenever you smelled something he didn't notice. The random mornings you wake up and run straight to the bathroom.

The mere image of you potentially being pregnant made Gojo want to pull you under him again. He would never admit it to you- but the idea of your breasts full of milk, so full that they'd leak- it drove him mad.

His mouth would suddenly feel very empty and dry anytime he thought of it. Trailing thoughts as he heard you speak, wondering if you'd ever let him taste it- ‘just to taste’ he’d think. Knowing damn well he'd keep asking for a taste over and over again.

Satoru was so sure he could convince you to let him nurse on your breast. Picturing you complaining on how full they felt- how painful it would be. Only for him to happily offer his assistance, “I just want to help,” he'd tell you.

And you being the perfect wife you are, you'd let him. Satoru relished the thought that you'd grant any of his wishes, no matter how filthy they were. Even thinking about it had him reeling for a taste- leading him to aimlessly suck on your breast harshly.

Wishing for something to come out prematurely, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you cradled his face in your lap, your other hand stroking his cock softly as you unknowingly played into his fantasies.

On one weekend that Gojo was out of town, you picked up a test. Fearing the small changes happening in your own body. Placing the small stick on the bathroom counter, hands held together almost in prayer, ‘pleasepleaseplease.’ you muttered to yourself.

Over consuming anxiety flooding your mind as you saw the blinking halt- ‘Pregnant’ the test read. You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes and feeling the world come crashing down on your shoulders.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you thought this would be the last straw. Thinking he couldn't busy himself with a child, let alone have a child out of wedlock- not even in a relationship.

Not even sure about your own place in this world, now considering bringing a child into it. You thought up every single horrible scenario that could happen if you presented him with the stick. Not even recalling all the sweet words he'd tell you.

The ‘ I love you’s ‘ that came straight from his heart when he'd fuck you. All the joking futures he’d picture with you.

Somehow you saw him as every cruel man you met before him. Doubts of ‘if I was enough, he wouldn't just be a situationship.’ unfolding in your mind as you blame yourself for this accident.

You inhaled, remembering to not overthink. To not assume till you spoke to him. So you waited. You waited in his place, on his couch. The white and blue stick wrapped in a napkin as you clutched it in your pocket. Waiting for him to unlock the door and step through at any moment.

You snapped your head to the moving doorknob, seeing him bust through the doorway with a happy smile. Seeing you as he pictured you all those times. Tear stained cheeks, shaky hands and pouting lips. Hurrying to you asking ‘whats wrong?’

“Sit.” you croaked, closing your eyes with a sigh as you felt him sit next to you. Pulling out your hand from your pocket, unwrapping the napkin and placing the stick on the table.

“I'm pregnant.” you whimpered, eyes tearing up as you saw his face go unchanged. The corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “What do I do ‘toru? Tell me what to do.” a hot tear fell from your eye, fearing that he’d toss you aside with a few hundred dollars to take care of it.

“Why’re you cryin?” he hummed, wrapping an arm around you. You let out a struggling breath.

“I just-” you inhaled, “I'm so scared.” you cried, pressing your face to his chest.

“Scared of what?” he scoffed, trying to sound sincere, fighting off the sinister smile that crept onto his face. Proud eyes staring directly to the blue and white plastic stick.

You pulled away from him, not being able to find the words to form the sentences. Satoru took your hands in his, looking into your eyes with all the feigned sincerity he could muster.

“I will take care of you.” he started, caressing his thumb over your knuckles as you sniffled. Taking a hand from yours and pressing it to your tummy, “Both of you.” he said with a smile, making you halt your tears and look at him bewildered.

Not knowing why he looked so excited right now, why he looked… accomplished? Seeing that glimmer in his eye he only got when he triumphed.

.... I don't know what to say. im sowy this doesn't have as much smut. yes this is a Segway to me one day writing a lactation kink post, im just testing the waters hehe

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rileyslibrary · 10 months

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The team is invited to a wedding. You and Ghost are trying to pass time.

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You walk down the candlelit path leading to the wedding reception, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in your arms. A friendly usher welcomes you with a warm smile and extends his hands, offering to take the package from you. As you hand it over, a hostess greets you politely and asks for your name. You introduce yourself, and she scans her clipboard.

Your gaze is drawn to the chateau in the distance, which appears to have been plucked from a fairytale. Questions about its history and the people who once called it home fill your mind. Who used to live here? And who is generous enough to offer its premises for newlyweds to host their wedding receptions? How old is this place, anyway?

“Fourteen,” the hostess says.

“Excuse me?”

She takes a look at the clipboard before returning her gaze to you. “You’re seated at table 14.” She repeats.

You nod and walk to the garden to find your seat. Like the chateau, the dining area outside is quite a sight: tables with crisp tablecloths, beautifully decorated with floral arrangements, flickering candles, and elegant glassware.

You spot your table; it’s almost empty, save for a familiar face sitting on one of the chairs. Well, not entirely familiar, as you only see it on special occasions when he is absolutely required to remove his balaclava.

“Nice place,” you quip, and he turns to look at you.

“It’s not mine,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to the distance.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “It was a comment about the estate, you asshole.” You explain and take a seat right next to him.

He huffs and points his thumb at the chateau. “That thing is nice?” he retorts, slowly shaking his head. “Not my style.”

“What’s your style?” you ask, hoping to engage him in conversation.

“Something smaller, simpler,” he says, looking at the chateau, “without so many... windows.”

“No windows?” You inquire, raising one eyebrow. “You’re not secretly a vampire, are you, Lieutenant?”

He smirks and rolls up his sleeves. “Me? No,” he murmurs, “but this wedding is sucking the bloody life out of me.”

“Because you were so full of it before,” you say jokingly. “Can’t you be happy for your comrades for once?”

He reclines in his chair, intertwines his fingers, and places his hands on his stomach. “Let’s just say that I could have been even happier for them in the comfort of my own home,” he replies.

You set your clutch bag on the table. “Why didn’t you just stay at home then?” You ask.

“Social obligation,” he explains with a shrug.

You widen your eyes and raise your eyebrows. “Social obligation?” You repeat, a smile forming at the corners of your lips. “That’s something I never expected to hear coming out of your mouth.”

He scoffs and picks up the wedding favour that has been carefully placed on his plate. “Oh, yeah?” He points to the golden letters on the small pistachio-coloured box, “Wait till you hear me say ‘macaron’.” He replies sarcastically, attempting to pull off a fake French accent.

You playfully put the back of your hand on your forehead, pretending to be fainting. Simon smiles and leans back in his chair, repositioning the box on the table.

“The others?” You ask, “They’re not here yet?”

He scans the area with his eyes slowly before pointing in the distance. “There’s Price talking to the couple...” he looks over his shoulder and motions towards the bar, “...and Soap is waiting for his drink.”

“What about Gaz?” You ask.

“The Sargent was talking to the maid of honour a little while ago. They could be testing the stability of the century-old furniture in there,” he speculates, looking up at the top floor of the chateau.

Your mouth drops open. “Diana, the medic?” You yell.

He presses his index finger to his lips. “Shh!” He whispers sternly.

You apologise, then place your hand over your mouth and whisper, “Diana, the medic?!”

“Oh, please,” he sneers, “as if you didn’t notice how they greet each other at the base.”

“I had no idea!” You reply, surprised.

“Well, maybe if you stopped talking so much and started paying more attention to your surroundings, you’d notice things a little bit more.”

You stick your tongue out at him and mock his statement. He smiles and gently nudges your leg with his.

“You wore heels.” He comments, looking down at your feet.

“I did,” you confirm, “and what of it?”

He clears his throat, smirks, and shifts his gaze to the horizon.

“What?” You repeat.

“Nothing.” He responds, and his smile broadens.

“Tell me!” You command and crack a smile.

His shoulders move up and down as he suppresses his laughter. He’s thoroughly enjoying watching you beg for an answer. You pinch his arm, and he groans.

“Hey,” he says between laughs, grabbing your wrist to stop you. He gestures towards the distance, where the maid of honour walks to the front of the stage, explaining something to the DJ while instinctively fixing her hair.

“I wonder how long it will be before Kyle appears.” You mumble.

Ghost turns around. “Not long,” he says, motioning towards the bar. You turn to face Soap, straightening Gaz’s tie.

“You think MacTavish knows?” You ask.

“Soap?” Ghost asks, shaking his head. “Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him,” he orders. “Would he be so focused on fixing Gaz’s tie if he knew? On the contrary, he’d be bugging him for details.”

You place your hand on his shoulder and lean closer to his ear. “Yes, but we know about their secret endeavours,” you whisper, “what do we say to him?”

He tightens his grip on your wrist and widens his eyes. “We say fuck all,” he replies sternly. “I told you, observe more and talk less.”

“Oh, unless you get to gossip with one of your teammates instead?” You tease.

“I’m not gossiping!” He protests. “Gossiping involves judging other people’s life choices.”

You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. “And what is it that you do, Lieutenant?”

He shrugs. “People-watching.” He states.

“People-watching.” You repeat.

He gives a nod. “And I guarantee you,” he murmurs, “that someone here is doing the exact same thing to us: watching us laughing, me pushing your leg, looking at your heels, you pinching my arm, whispering in my ear. Do you think we’re the only ones who keep an eye on others?”

You blush and look around, hoping to spot the perpetrator who will prove Ghost’s theory.

“You mean to tell me that other people are watching us and think we’re flirting?” you ask, embarrassed.

“Aren’t we?” He smirks.

You blush even more and sit up straight. “Yeah,” you admit with a smile, “we are.”

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A/N: Thank you to that anon who inspired me yesterday. I may have written half of the story while at the wedding reception. 😬

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candysunoo · 11 days

Text

ೋ◦ ❀❀ enhypen as a

bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

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❀ now, before we shall begin dear gentle-reader there is something you must know. this author has no rights to the Bridgerton stories/ series. thus all of the following are loosely based on them. this author also does not know any of the boys personally; and thus this is not an accurate portrayal or representation of them and their lively hood. thank you in advance dearest gentle-reader. please enjoy. sincerely, your lady whistledown (aka kei ;D) ❀

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ King Lee Heeseung, 3rd of his name, the ruler of Great Britain and Ireland, your new husband.

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❀❀❀ When your tiny island kingdom falls apart under the scrutiny of the large countries around it your brother has no choice but to marry you off. Marry you off to none other than the King of Great Britain and Ireland. Lee Heesesung ascended the throne young after his father tragically died. Years after finally coming of age, his mother decides it’s time for him to marry and produce the next heir, despite his covertly concealed mental illness. When you arrive it seems as nothing can go your way. From mistakingly talking down to the king after being caught trying to run away, to what was supposed to be your honeymoon night your ladies maid explained. But must you know dearest reader, that love does indeed conquer all and secrets don’t stay secrets for long.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: may 22nd, 2024❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers - to kinda friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (lots of it), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), breeding kink , praise, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Jongseong - The Duke & I ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Jongseong aka Jay, first of his name, The Duke of Hastings.

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Dearest gentle reader, haven’t you heard? The honorable l/n family is finally debuting the oldest daughter. A vision of beauty, just as her mother was, any young man would be happy to have her on his arm.

That being said being the eldest daughter of eight children can be tough. Especially as you are now of age to enter society. It was exhausting really, the trips to the modieste for the hours of standing for the dropping of hems and the countless arguments between your eldest brother, the head of the family, and your mother. After your father died your brother had become especially protective of you and your other siblings; much to the dismay of your mother. The protectiveness only gets worse when you catch the eye of not only the queen but also a certain Duke who is determined to stay out of the clawing hands of desperate mamas and their daughters.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: May 29th, 2024 ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: fake dating- to true love, traditional gender roles, 1700’s/1800’s societal expectations, mention of childhood trauma, mention of parental death, small mention of attempted assault (nothing graphic y/n gets forcibly kissed, it does not go into detail), retired manwhore jay, anxiety, traditional courting, mention of fighting/ light violence, forced to married - destined to stay, mention of having children, lies of omission, SMUT, corruption kink, virgin y/n, jay talking you through it, wet dreams, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Sim Jaeyun - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Sim Jaeyun aka Jake, first of his name, 3rd eldest son of his family, and your longtime friend and crush.

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Dearest gentle-reader, ever since the successful seasons of not only his older brothers but sisters as well all eyes have fallen on the 3rd eldest son of the Sim family. Will this be the season he finds a presentable young lady to hold him down to the mainland; or will he end up on yet another voyage across the sea?

Ever since you can remember you have been friends Sim Hyunjin, the middle daughter of the Sim family. Also since you can remember you have had a massive crush on her younger brother Jaeyun, or as he liked to be called Jake. Everyone who knew you knew that you were nothing less than a soft, quiet, wallflower. Always sticking close to the edge of the room, alone and watching the courting couples dance the night away. Jake was always so kind in that regard; pulling you away from the wall and to the dance floor but never letting it get further. Never officially courting you or even giving you the curtesy of signing your dance card. However when you overhear a conversation not meant for you everything changes. Will Jake be too late to fix what he had broken?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: ft. Loossemble/ Loona’s Kim Hyunjin as his sister (they share the same birthday lol), friends- to strangers/ acquaintances- to friends again- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, mentions of hard family situations, mentions of feeling alone and like an outsider, reader gets called names (by Jake he doesn’t really mean it?), flirting, jealousy, heartbreak, fights between friends, POSSIBLE SMUT I HAVEN’T DECIDED YET, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Sunghoon - The Viscount who Loved Me ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Sunghoon, first of his name, eldest child of his family, The Viscount. The bane of your existence.

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Dearest gentle-reader, after the ever successful season of his younger sister last year Park Sunghoon has declared himself available to be wed. Making him the most desirable young gentleman of this season. May we wish luck to the other young men, as the nagging mamas and their equally difficult daughters shall be all over the Viscount.

Being the eldest son of a prestigious family was no walk in the park. Especially for Park Sunghoon who had taken over as the head of his family after his father’s tragic death. After the past year his mama had been insistent on him marring. Especially after she found out about a certain opera singer and the way he funded her lifestyle. Entering the marriage market his wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a woman with at least half a head on her shoulders and child- bearing hips. No need for anything else. He just needed a wife. You and your sister had just arrived in town, sponsored by an old family friend to join this marriage season. Staying with Lady Lee Chae-rin was nothing less than a dream. She was kind and understanding towards you, your sister and your mother. Strong willed and outspoken you were determined to find someone for your sister to wed, if not for her, for your entire family. However what happens when alls not fair in love and war?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: enemies- to lovers, mention of parental death, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, arguments, extortion(not by Sunghoon or reader), mentions of family issues, shitty grandparents, rushed engagement, technical cheating (Sunghoon is with readers sister), angst to fluff, Sunghoon is a world class rake, breaking off an engagement SMUT, hate sex, light degradation, some praise, public sex (in a private garden no one else is there)❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Kim Sunoo - An offer from a Gentleman ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Kim Sunoo, first of his name, the 2nd son of his prestigious family, an artist, and perhaps your Prince Charming?

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Dearest gentle-reader, love has a funny way of finding its way around the ‘ton. Of course, when there are so many eligible young men and women how could it not? This author happens to think that one of the eligible young men of the ‘ton may find love where he least expects it. Or rather with whom unexpected love comes with.

When your mother died it felt as if the warmth of the universe had gone with her. The flowers no longer grew and the wind no longer sang a tune as it blew. As you approached the age of your debute into society you had some hope. However it was all crushed into small bits when your father married Seo Minhae. The literal devil in disguise. After that her and her ill-mannered daughter moved into and made you a servant in your own home. Pushed out of your room and into the basement, forced to do housework and cook you were treated as nothing. Finally reaching your breaking point you snuck out of the house. Finding yourself at a masquerade ball and in the arms of a tall, slim, dark haired man. Feeling like royalty and like you were on top of the world you had the night of your life. That is until the clock struck midnight.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers- to lovers, Cinderella type content, traditional gender roles, 1700’s - 1800’s societal expectations, mention of parental death, awful evil stepmother and step sisters, running away, slight escapism, mention of depression and slight religious imagery, masquerade ball, reader is implied to be shorter than Sunoo, abrupt abandonment, angst and fluff, SMUT, soft sex, unprotected sex( wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), praise, dirty talk, overall sweet and fluffy, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Yang Jungwon - It’s in His Kiss ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Yang Jungwon, first of his name, an entitled aristocrat just like the rest; but could there possibly be more lurking underneath his greed for inheritance?

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Dearest gentle-reader, the time has come for the youngest daughter of the l/n family to make her debut into society. Though between you and I founder has it that the youngest of the l/n family is too much to handle when it comes to romance. Loud and outspoken one can only hope the youngest will find someone suitable for her.

Yang Jungwon was the eldest child in his family. He was born for greatness. He planned his whole life as he seen fit on the promise of his inheritance. You however were the youngest daughter, loud, outspoken, intelligent and brash. Yang Jungwon could hardly stand you. That is until he needs your help of course. After his father has taken over the family’s business and title he didn’t seem to want to give it up. Yang Jungwon didn’t know what to do with himself. After all what grounds does his father have to deny him his birthright? Finding a journal from his long dead grandfather, Jungwon finds himself in a bind; the journal is written in an entirely different language and could possibly hold the solution for his predicament. However, the only person he knows who can remotely translate it, even if it’s not perfect, is you. The one person his calm and quiet self can not stand to be around for long periods of time.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: acquaintances- to friends- to lovers, shitty parents, mention of parental death, Jungwon is technically an orphan, threats of disinheriting, mean comments (towards reader not by jungwon), reader is a bit much for Jungwon at times, overall fluffy, heavy petting, make out session, LIGHT SMUT( nothing too in depth just an after scene) MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Nishimura Riki - On the way to the Wedding ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Nishimura Riki aka Niki, first of his name, the youngest son in his family, trapped between the glamorous dream of love at first sight and the harshness of reality.

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Dearest gentle-reader, do you know that true love conquers all? Well this season we are in for a treat, the youngest of the Nishimura family finally has plans on marrying. This old author can’t help but wonder what shenanigans this season will hold.

Nishimura Riki was the youngest of eight children. He had grown up watching all of his sibling find true and meaningful relationships. That was all he wanted for himself. Riki believed in love at first sight. Especially when he saw her Danielle Marsh, your best friend. When his gaze first saw her it was as if he had been struck with Cupid’s arrow. It went so deep in his heart he couldn’t breathe, the entire world was stopped as he watched her from afar. However that didn’t last for long as he witnessed her approach another man, fluttering her eyelashes and giggling at him.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: love triangle, love at first sight, unrequited love- to true love, idiots in love, “let me help you help her”, breaking up engagements, mentions of family issues, love confessions in a garden, heavy petting make out session, ‼️NO SMUT‼️, angst with happy ending, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

❀ i hope you all look forward to reading the stories! i‘ll update the content warnings as i finish the stories! please ignore any mistakes i may have made as i will start to go through and correct them! also ignore the bad formatting i did it on mobile 😭 - kei ❀

❀ a taglist has been created you can find that post here! that is the current standing of who will be tagged in the first post. feel free to ask to be added by commenting or sending an ask/ message! ❀

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

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pathologicalreid · 1 month

Note

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid whump #criminal minds whump

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shibaraki · 2 months

Text

OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.

tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc

wc: 5.2K

In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.

You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.

“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”

You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.

Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.

“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.

Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.

He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.

“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.

“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.

“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.

“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.

“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.

Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.

“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.

“Then what’s the damn problem?”

The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.

“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.

Dream walker.

At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.

The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.

Until Okumura Yukiko.

At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.

When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.

Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.

Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.

Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.

Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.

Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”

Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.

Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.

And then everything stops.

Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.

Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.

“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.

The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.

“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.

“Do you go to school here?”

“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”

Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”

Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.

You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.

Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.

Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.

Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.

“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.

“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”

Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.

But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.

The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.

A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.

A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.

They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.

“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”

Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.

You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.

“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”

Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.

With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.

You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.

You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.

Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.

You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.

You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.

Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.

Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.

The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”

Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.

It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.

Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.

One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.

Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.

Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.

“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”

Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.

Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.

Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.

“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.

“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.

“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.

“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.

Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”

You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.

“You remembered this old thing?”

Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.

Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.

You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.

“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.

Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.

He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”

You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.

Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”

His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.

You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.

“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.

“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.

“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment I admit. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.

“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”

You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. And you wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your grin. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.

“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.

You give an emphatic nod.

“How mad is Kacchan?”

“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.

“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”

You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way home is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.

Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.

“I’m up,” he says, throat rough from disuse. There’s a shaky smile on his face. “I’m home”.

Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #q’d

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it.

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost.

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out.

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard.

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it.

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text.

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet.

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you.

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings.

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?”

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin.

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.”

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile.

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.”

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?”

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding.

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?”

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall.

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.”

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles.

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

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estesphantom · 1 month

Text

Ex-Husband John Price |

John Price headcanon

reader is she/her & works as a medic. John Price might be a little (insanely obsessed) love sick over his silly ex wife. He’s Joe Goldberg.

The two of you didn’t divorce because you fell out of love, or someone cheated, or any true “marital” problems many couples would divorce for. In fact, divorcing him killed you as it did him.

Being in the military is a job that is very demanding and although you knew of that when you married, you didn’t realize how much of an effect it had on the both of you. Though it was wrong, you felt like you could have more from a man that didn’t have a job that required more attention than your marriage did to him. John told you he understood your decision and respected you. He took weeks to sign the papers, though, with an excuse of being too busy.

The truth was that he let you divorce him because he knew you wouldn’t find a man that was better molded for you than he was. He was right. Of course he was.

“Mm, and how are you holding up, love?” he inquires while you fill up a pot of coffee in the break room. His eyes peered up at yours while you took a seat across from him on the couch. You two were making small talk and it had been only a few weeks after your divorce.

John let you keep the house, the dog, everything you would ask for. You felt guilty and pleaded with him to take something, anything he hadn’t already taken (which was only his clothes and documentations) but he refused. He wanted to prove he still respected and loved you after the divorce.

“Just fine. And you?” your delicate fingers rubbed your temples as you tried to free the stress from the first half of your shift. He stared at your badge which still had ‘DR. PRICE’ printed in bold black with a picture of your kind face above it.

“Good for you,” he smiles at you kindly, the same warm, handsome smile he’d given you a hundred times before and the first smile he’d given you when pronounced husband and wife. He didn’t answer the second part of your question.

Your attempts of finding a man that had enough time for you, or even any ounce of attraction towards you was rough. It seemed as if any man at work you would approach would dodge your attempts at flirting like the plague.

Men in the military were like starved lions; desperate, needy, and impulsive. You were a very attractive, young woman, which checked all of the boxes for the dogs working in the military. Hell, before you and the Captain became a thing, you had to bring pepper spray every day to make sure none of the men tried anything.

The absence of attention made you think. Then, you thought of your ex husband. The influence he has. His love that withstood signing the divorce papers and moving out of his home for your comfort and happiness.

You remembered the way he would make you promise you would never replace him. You remembered his vow to always look out for you and to never let anything become between you two. You remembered sleeping over at his apartment for the first time and finding a collection of your belongings that you thought went missing over the past few months. You remembered fiddling with the dusty mascara, the acrylic nail that had broken off during a date, the lipstick, the panties. You loved John because of how much he’d noticed of you and how much he loved you.

So, when your shifts were over and you were scrambling to find him, you felt mistaken for the divorce in the first place. Your feet stepped quickly as you called his name. His broad shoulders turned to face you and his facial expression immediately softened. Your heart slowed.

“Can you come home with me? There’s a- my air conditioning doesn’t really work anymore,” your face blushed up immediately as you came up with a dumb excuse on the spot. You wanted to slap yourself square in the face.

John chuckled. He was amused. He crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the side, staying quiet for a few seconds while contemplating his next move. He uncrossed his arms and grabbed his keys out of his pocket, using his free hand to pull your smaller hand into his. He saw right through you.

“Okay, love. It’ll cost you, though,” his thumb rubbed against yours as if it were always home for him. You hummed in response as he led you out of the base’s office to the car park where you would approach his car.

As you climbed into the car, you realized there truly wasn’t anyone out there who was meant for you the way John Price was.

His love wasn’t obsession, it was gratitude.

Right?

#john price #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #fanfic #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x you #call of duty #modern warefare ii #modern warfare 3

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months

Note

Can we get a little 12 or 14 blurb from the clumsy prompt ☺️

number 14 for you lovely! “Hearing a crash or bang in the house and their partner isn’t in sight, cue immediate panic mode. meanwhile their partner just calls out casually that they’re okay or that something fell.”

There was a thump, a startling loud one, from upstairs.

Steve froze, eyes flickering upwards and his body tensing. Silence followed and the boy immediately dropped the spoon he’d been using to stir the macaroni, his shoulder colliding with the door frame in his haste to run to the stairs. His socked feet slipped on the floorboards, his brows knitted together in concern and as he reached the bottom of the steps, he called out, voice strained.

“Babe?”

He heard a small groan and some shuffling, his hand on the railing as he prepared himself to bolt up but your voice followed, suspiciously light and airy.

“It’s fine!” You called down to him. “Something just fell.”

Steve blew a breath from his nose, one eye twitching because he knew this, he knew you, but you were talking at least and that counted for something. His free hand went to his hip and if you’d seen him, you would have definitely called him a mother hen.

“Yeah?” He replied mildly. “Something fell?”

“Uhuh,” you shouted back. Something else clattered to the floor and Steve heard you swear under your breath.

He couldn’t see you from his position at the bottom of the stairs, but he could imagine your twisted pout, your pinched brows.

“Was it you?” Steve yelled.

A pause, a quiet bubble. He heard you sigh, long suffering and exasperated, a sign of you giving in. “Yeah,” you warbled, sounding incredibly mournful about your admission. “Yeah, it was me.”

Steve didn’t know if he should laugh or lecture you, so he just took the stairs two at a time instead. “You okay?” He asked as he made his way to the bedroom. He could see your shadow move under the door frame, so at least you had use of your legs. “You’re not bleeding, right?”

“God, I hope not,” you cracked. “M’wearing my favourite shirt— oh, hey.” Steve opened the door to you on the floor, crawling on your hands and knees you made a weak attempt to sweep up the fallen books.

“That’s my shirt,” Steve commented as he looked down at you.

You huffed, looking a little too warm and unharmed. No blood, no severed limbs. “I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you shot back, “I said it was my favourite.”

Steve snorted and held out his hands, grinning when you slapped your palms to his. He hauled you up, gentle as he examined you. No broken bones, no unfocused eyes.

“What did you do this time?” He murmured, taking your chin between a finger and thumb, tilting your head this way and that, checking for injuries. “Hmm? Apart from give me a damn heart attack.”

You frowned at the accusation, nipping at Steve’s fingers in response. “Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” you confessed. “Turns out I’m not eight foot tall and those shelves aren’t that strong.”

Steve gasped, all dramatic and faux surprise. “No way,” he whispered. “Who knew?”

You pulled a face, tucking your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and sighing. “Not me,” you mumbled against his throat, body going slack when the boy’s hands smoothed over the planes of your shoulders.

“Did know you have a boyfriend with much longer arms than you?” Steve mused. “He even played basketball.”

You grinned, pulling back from his embrace with a gasp as dramatic as Steve’s. “Oh my god, professionally?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at you, an almost glare except his lips were lifting into a smile despite how hard he fought it. “Yeah, you seem fine,” he mused, nose nudging yours.

“I’ll still take a kiss,” you told him, grinning. “For medical purposes.”

And how could Steve say no to that? He wasn’t cruel.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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b0xerdancer-writes · 2 months

Text

Our Little Secret

Eris x Azriel's Twin! Reader

Summary: Azriel and his sister have always been opposites, she weaved light he bent shadows, he liked the dark and cold, she lived for warmth and light. That led her to Eris Vanserra. The two began secret but not so secret meetups that eventually blossoms into more.

Warnings: 18+, implied semi-graphic smut but not full scenes, attempted murder, injuries, blood, war, death, pregnancy, depression and self-doubt.

Word Count: 8,995

Notes: Shorter but sweet hope everyone enjoys some soft Eris!

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There were several pros and cons to being Eris’s mate and Azriel’s twin sister.

Pros included the ability to claim visits to Autumn as part of my spy job now that we were in an alliance with them as Eris began ascending the throne and needed assistance in weeding out the vermin that had invaded his fathers court.

Cons included that my brother absolutely hated the male, so any interactions we had were either secret or strictly professional in nature with others like my family around us.

However when the tides had turned after a rather eventful week tucked away in the halls of The Forest House, after an advisor had hired an assassin to try and take out Eris, neither Eris or I were prepared for the aftermath.

My brother was able to bend the shadows to his whim, he had always shrunk into the shadows and found peace in them after our half brothers had burned his hands. I however, was the opposite. My brothers and father had clipped my wings from birth, I would and have never known the call of the wind. Where my brother found comfort in the shadows I found my comfort in those small warm rays of light that would peek into our basement cell from the small barred window we were too short to reach. My brother had learned to weave the shadows to his whim, I had done the opposite and learned to weave the light to mine.

Where my brother hated and despised the now High Lord of the Autumn Court, I had come to love and cherish him. Especially when our spontaneous meetings became a regularly scheduled secret.

Eris and I had started at a dance, his piercing eyes had found mine as I stood on the dias with my brothers; he had approached with an eerily attractive atmosphere around him as he stalked up to me, he stood a step below me as he bowed and offered his hand out for a dance. Together we had taken the ball by storm all the onlookers had been mesmerized by the passion and fierceness in which Eris and I brought forward, we had both intrigued the other from the second we both came to an abrupt stop with the end of the pounding, loud, and energetic music and our chests were heaving as we panted trying to catch our breath.

That night had ignited something between us because later that same night he had sought me with the intention of making small chat to get closer, he had approached me with a champagne flute but by the end of it we had defected from the rest of the party and found ourselves rutting against each other in an empty conference room. That would be the first of many times we would end up hidden away in a backroom slotted against each other, just happy to have someone who’s passion matched our own.

It had simply become a normal thing for us, every high lords meeting and every alliance talk, we would wind up in each other without fail. As meetings continued his mask began to fall away and after we had both come undone and beads of sweat had started to form between us he would confess his fears or the things that had troubled him, a recent beating from Beron here or nerves from the threat of war looming over our heads.

When the war did come to a head, I had been using light to mask parts of our armies, rendering them invisible to Hybern and his own army; we ultimately prevailed but not without our own amount of casualties, Eris had come rushing towards the medical tents Beron tossed over the hind quarters of his horse. I had been sitting with Azriel and the rest of the inner circle, a healer stitching a spot on my arm where a sword had gone a little too deep for me to be comfortable with and wasn't healing quick enough for the healers to be comfortable with, when we heard the commotion. I could hear Eris screaming and the second the nurse cut the thread from my arm I was out of the tent, Eris was soaked in blood and trying to pull Beron off the back of his horse; I could hear the grief in his voice as much as the panic was obvious on his face, I helped Eris pull him down and a healer met us halfway to the tent. Just as Beron and the healer made it through the curtain Eris had dropped to his knees, adrenaline finally wearing off, he started crying so I dropped to my knees beside him and pulled him tight against me.

Once his sobs started to garner attention I motioned for him to stand and ushered him out of the way of the crowds into my tent. I pulled him into my chest, running my fingers through his hair while his sobs became hoarse and weak; the metallic smell of his father’s blood clung to him and I slowly stripped him from the stained garments, I grabbed the cloth that was draped over the edge of the small bowl filled with water for washing sat and began cleaning where the smears of blood lingered on his skin. As I dabbed at the blood his sniffling stopped and he stared down at where I kneeled to sponge at a spot on his hip, I looked up at him with a sad smile and his head dropped to let his hair curtain his face.

With one hand tucked into my hair he pulled me tight against his thigh and muttered a small barely audible “Thank you.”

Once I had finished cleaning him he sat on the edge of my bed, a small swirl of light nudged at his hands and he smiled as he let it caress him like how one of his hounds would have, as I was slipping out of my own blood stained clothing one of my light beams presented me with clothing from Eris’s own tent. He took them from the small beam with a smile and slipped on the comfortable night clothing, I slipped into my own comfortable sleeping clothes and climbed onto the bed beside him. He buried himself into my chest and curled around me, I wrapped one wing over the top of us and we laid there for a few minutes before he gave out a shaky breath. He began to tell me how he had found Beron and he fully believed it was his fault the older male had been injured, Eris had left his position in the Autumn Court squadron to meet with Helion and the rest of us on the opposite side of the battlefield, leaving Beron exposed. Apparently somehow Beron and his brothers had been ambushed, the rest of his remaining brothers were dead but Beron was unconscious and breathing; as he moved to check Beron’s wounds he had realized the older male was beginning to bleed out and hauled him up to the horse, someone managing to get him on the beast.

I soothed him, telling him it wasn’t his fault, that the mother had a sick sense of karma; and that was all this was, karma, for his actions towards Eris and his family. We fell asleep an hour or so later, Eris’s soft snores lulling me into my own sleep. It was around midnight when I felt the bed shift, the smell in my tent stung my nose: a sharp Cinnamon and smoke mixed with a spice that reminded me of the autumn court alcohol Eris had given me after one of our usual meetups. It was Eris’s comforting scent amplified a hundred times over, it was only when my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw Eris sat up elbows on his knees and hunched over that I realized the stinging was caused by a surplus of magic in the air.

“He’s dead” Was all Eris mumbled as he looked back over his shoulder at me.

Only then did I get a good look at him, his ears seemed more pointed, his eyes more predatorial and enticing, every detail about him that I had noticed before was amplified; from the red of his hair to the freckles that littered the bridge of his nose, I felt myself fall more in love with him with every detail I took in.

“Don’t look at me like that starlight.” A low growl from his voice had goosebumps growing over my skin and every hair standing on end all at the same time.

I couldn't even mumble an apology to the newly made high lord before his eyes widened and his scent thickened with the added addition of his arousal. In a split second he had pounced on me, his lips finding their home on my neck. We spent the rest of the night lost in eachother, he was clearly rougher and more feral with the newly found energy and stamina that had come with becoming a high lord.

Our bond had only grown from there, after the war was over he had asked Rhys for help in discovering which of those in his court wanted his downfall or were members of the illegal markets his father had let the Autumn Court become home to. The Autumn Court was bright at all times of the day, between the actual sun in the day and the fireflies and bonfires that lit up the night, I had been sent to act as Emissary and spy. It had started as miniscule tasks like tracking down and destroying supply carts carrying black market goods or stalking through the castle under my invisible illusion to listen in on private conversations that could have been conspiratorial in nature. It was one of these overheard conversations that sent me rushing to Eris’s room, heart pounding so rapidly I felt it in the back of my throat.

It was late in the evening, Eris would have retired from the throne room or his study and would have been in his private chambers getting ready to wind down for the night, I slipped from the perch where I had heard the alarming news and found the faintest crack of light under Eris’s door; the faintest amount I needed leaked from the door as the lights in the hall began to dim, much like how my brother used the shadows to transport him around I used the light to step silently into Eris’s chambers. The fireplace, the thing illuminating the room so brightly, crackled softly and I took the faintest step forward towards Eris.

He turned quickly, dressed only in a pair of loose trousers with his hair half up and cascading over his shoulders; he had grown it out since becoming high lord. “Starlight? What's wrong, why do you look so panicked? What did you hear?”

“Eris! You have got to be wary! I heard two of the advisors conspiring together to assassinate you! They spoke not of when it was planned but it is coming!” I took a few steps towards him reaching out to grasp at his upper arm, an attempt to convey my desperation to him.

“Thank you Starlight, but remember they know not of your spying capabilities, I have no evidence against them yet. We will have to wait for the assassin before we can condemn those males.” He ran one hand across my cheek, pulling me tightly to him with a dark longing in his eyes.

“Eris I-“ he cut me off before I could continue, his eyes sparkled with that same dark look.

“Look Starlight, I can handle myself but if it would please you and make you feel better about the situation then stay beside me tonight, watch over and protect me darling.” His voice was a soothing melody in my ears, lulling me into a false sense of security with the ever present weight of the assassin hanging above us.

“Please…” I mumbled and buried my head in his chest.

“Of course starlight” he mumbled into my head as he planted a small kiss into my hair.

He curled up in bed and I curled up on the loveseat tucked into the corner of the room with my illusion dusted over me; thankfully the night was uneventful and in the early hours I climbed into the bed beside Eris who wrapped his arm around me in a groggy fog.

After a week the threat had yet to be seen and Eris’s schedule had seemed to become busier, leaving him rarely alone with anyone or even by himself until the very end of the day. My duties as emissary had been paused by Eris himself as he noticed I had become overly exhausted and was becoming increasingly sicker as the days continued, I had fallen asleep in meetings or even had to dismiss myself from some of them due to nausea.

“Until you are cleared by my appointed healer,” Eris had firmly told me, “I’ll be pausing your duties as emissary here.”

I had grumbled but agreed to schedule an appointment with the healer that afternoon to appease him and be allowed to continue with my job. The halls were quiet in the staff wing, most of the servants would be spread out across the rest of the manor at this time, preparing for dinner or guest rooms, or just general cleaning. I knocked softly on the healers office door, a greeting ushered me in from the other side.

Inside was a young eccentric male that reminded me of Helion in a way, he ushered me to sit in a padded seat across from him. Eris had written to him with his concerns about my health and the male asked me if I had any concerns of my own. I just agreed to what Eris had identified with a grumble and he moved on with the exam.

“How long has this been occurring?” The male's hands glowed a faint green as he ran his hands around my body several inches above my skin.

“It’s progressed since the Last night of the war, at first I just assumed it was an after effect of the fae bane exposure.” I was uncomfortable with the males' closeness to me and shifted in my seat.

He nodded and continued his examination, it was rather uneventful as he checked through multiple things.

“Its a long shot but there's one more thing I’d like to check if thats okay?” He asked me with a shrug.

“Yeah why not, that way Eris will be satisfied and I can get back to my duties” I shrugged back at him.

His hands changed from that green glow to a pink glow and his eyes widened, a smile grew on his face. “Congratulations. It seems like my long shot guess was correct.”

He turned from me and back to a small pad of parchment and scribbled a few things down on it before handing it to me, my fave paled as I read the care plan ahead of me.

“I’d like to schedule a week from now to follow up with everything, you will still be in this court correct?” I nodded and he scribbled on another piece of parchment. “Then I'll see you at the same time in a week!” He handed me the second parchment with the next appointment scheduled on it.

The walk back to my chambers had begun as quiet, the setting sun outside the windows a tell of the hours spent in the healers office. The parchment folded up in my pocket a heavy weight as I thought how to tell Eris the news; lost in my thoughts I had taken a wrong turn and ended up in Eris’s private wing, an indication of where my mind was at and whose company it sought out for my distress, except something felt off in the wing as I was several halls from Eris’s room but a foreign sour scent lingered at the edges of the air. Had I not been a trained spy the change in scent wouldn’t have alarmed me but I knew Eris’s scent too well, knew how it both soured when he was upset and how it could be a breath of fresh air when he was in a happy mood, and I knew when someone was trying to hide their scent.

I felt the muscles in my back around the deep scars twitch like they never had before, like I had watched them do when my brother's wings flared. An unease screamed at me and that familiar sense of dread rose in my throat, I tried to swallow it back but a loud shattering noise sent me down the hall at a full sprint. The halls were dark and I was unable to Lightstep into Eris’s room, I rounded a corner to find the door to his room cracked open and I threw it open to find Eris fighting off a bane laced dagger from his throat. My intrusion on their fight was enough of a distraction to gove Eris a one up by shoving the dagger away and throwing the unidentified male off of him, the make retailiated just as quickly sinking the dagger into Eris’s side as borh were scrambling up from the floor. I screamed as I watched Eris howl in pain and collapse on the floor, the intruding male moved towards the windows; there was enough light in the room for me to lightstep right behind him and sink the twin sister dagger of Truthteller into his neck, the adrenaline in my system was enough for me to decapitate the male. I didnt care if it would have looked better to bring him to the dungeons, I had overheard that conversation and knew who had conspired against my Eris.

Once the head hit the ground I turned to Eris who was holding the dagger and his side with shallow breaths, with blood pounding in my ears and tears beginning to well up I dropped to my knees to find him barely conscious.

I pulled his head into my lap and cried over him begging him to stay with me, his faint voice tried to soothe me but the crack in his voice was enough for me to realize I very well could lose him tonight.

“You have to stay with me Eris, you have to! You cant leave me like this Eris! I need you!” I sobbed into his slowly rising and falling chest.

One of his hands found its way into my hair as a soothing gesture. “You’ll be okay Starlight.”

It broke me even more and I shook my head, tears rapidly cascading down my face. “No! I wouldn't be! You can't leave me like this Eris! You aren't allowed to die here! I’m pregnant Eris! Do you hear me! You can’t die, you have to be here for me and the babe!”

I felt Eris stiffen, his grasp in my hair tightening. “Your-“ I nodded and he smiled softly but his breathing became even shallower.

I felt his grasp loosen and drop from my hair, my head shot up only to watch his eyes roll back in his head. I screamed and called his name and when no response came I was hauling him into my arms. Drawing every ounce of power I could spare I folded and weaved the light around us while screaming for Rhys in my mind. He answered almost immediately and I let him see what had happened just as I felt the weave of light complete and I was reappearing in my home court, I was greeted by my brothers and Madja who ushered us into a room with a bed they had me lay him on. I was pulled out of the room into the living room by Rhys and Azriel, my twin wrapping his wings around me as I sobbed into his chest.

I had cried myself to sleep in Azriel’s arms but was awoken by a sudden wave of nausea that had me pulling myself away from him and into the kitchen where I found myself expelling what lunch I managed to eat before the appointment earlier today. Azriel was behind me pulling my hair farther out of the way for me and he rubbed my back softly, a soothing gesture.

“You alright?” His voice was a quiet whisper as the house was in a quiet slumber except for the occasional noise of Madja doing something in Eris’s room.

I nodded and slid my hand into my pocket handing him the folded pieces of paper. He read over them as I rinsed my mouth out with water from the sink and spit it back out.

“By the mother.” He cursed “You're pregnant?” He looked at me quizzically and I nodded toeing my hair into a half up bun in case another wave of nausea hit me.

“Yeah.” I mumbled, throat hoarse.

“It's his isn't it?” A look of sadness and pity crossed his face, a sorrow deep in his eyes. I nodded again.

“How long?” He asked, his voice cracked.

“Me and Eris? Since the first ball we met. The babe? Conceived the night he became high lord. I started getting sick shortly after that.” My own voice cracked as I fought back tears.

“Does he know?” He sat the papers on the counter and extended an arm out to me, I placed my hand in his.

“I told him right before he passed out, I told him it was why he had to pull through.” A sob broke through my lips, and Azriel pulled me into him.

I broke down sobbing into his chest, he wrapped his wings around us until Rhys clearing his throat broke through the air. Azriel pulled me back by the shoulders and wiped the tears from my face, Rhys shifted awkwardly on his feet in the doorway clearly having heard and seen our exchange.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay Starlight?” His voice was soft as I nodded.

We both turned to Rhys who joined our little circle, He took my hand in his as he spoke. “Madja managed to stitch up his wound and said he's stable but still unconscious while his body tries to heal itself, she managed to flush the bane out of his system but it weakened him enough his healing delayed and he lost a lot of blood. She doesn't know how long he will be out but you can go in there now with him if you want.” He pulled me into a tight hug and I thanked him.

I slipped into the room where Madja was bottling up a few potions for Eris, she gave me a small smile and a nod.

I rested one hand on her shoulder the other on my stomach and leaned back against the table she was working on. “Thank you Madja, for saving him for us.”

She nodded her accent heavy as she spoke to me. “You care very deeply for him, it's a good quality to have to love that purely. Your brothers may not recognize why you care but they understand your emotions, It's why Rhys had no restraint in summoning me to work on the High Lord you care for.”

I smiled at her. “Yeah, I'm not gonna lie to you Madja, I think he's my mate. He's always just had an allure that called me to him, since the first time we met we just clicked like a puzzle piece. When I saw him on the floor there, something so deep in my chest I didn't know it could exist screamed and throbbed with a red hot glowing pain. I think I’ve always just known we were mates, in my adrenaline and panic I think the bond finally snapped but I was too overwhelmed and worried to really process everything going on.”

She smiled and nodded at me. “A good bond doesn't need to ring true, like Rhysand told you he simply looked at Feyre and knew. You simply know what he is to you and that is fine, it doesn't have to be a grand realization.”

“Thank you, Madja.” I gave her a soft smile and she pushed a small bottle into my hand.

I looked at her quizzically as she smirked. “For the nausea the babe causes.”

A blush rapidly grew on my face and my eyes widened. “How did you?”

A sparkle glistened in her eyes, she had always been a grandmother to the entire inner circle. “Girl, i’ve been treating you since you and Azriel joined Rhys here, I know your scent and any good healer knows what a babe does to a female's scent. It was entirely too easy to scent it on you for me, hopefully that helps with any and all nausea you have. Just one drop of the vial into any drink you have once a day, it's tasteless so it should mix well with anything.”

“Thank you again Madja. Have a goodnight.” She smiled and nodded at me and slipped out the door.

I turned my attention to the shirtless male in the bed, white bandages wrapped around the lower half of his torso and his breath was a steady rise and fall of his chest, no longer weak and shallow. He laid on his uninjured side with his loose bangs falling in his face, I leaned on the bed to move them out of the way when one of his hands tightened on my wrist and he mumbled something I couldn't make out; but I knew Eris he had done this many times when I’d return from the bathroom to crawl back into bed with him. I smiled softly and kicked off my boots then curled up beside him, he wrapped his arm tightly around my waist while I played with the loose hairs that fell into his face.

A groan coming from Eris was what woke me up just as the light started peaking through the windows, he had tried to sit up and was clutching his side where the dagger had been.

“Woah! careful Eris I don't want you ripping any stitches.” I fussed over him till I was able to get him laying back down.

A sickly smile was on his face as he winced. “Morning Starlight.”

I scowled at him. “Morning Starlight? That's it! You almost died, Eris! You absolute dork. I was worried, you know?”

He smiled at me, still relatively pale and weak as his body used the energy to slowly repair itself. “What you said before I passed out… Is it true?”

I nodded and his hand found mine. “Are you mad?”

His voice cracked. “Darling, why would I be mad?”

I sighed and made my way over to the table where Madja had left a few bandages and busied myself with collecting what I would need to change his bandages. “I just figured since you originally said you didn’t care for children.”

“Darling, come here.” He called for me with his hand outstretched.

I rounded the bed carrying the small collection of medical supplies and set them on the end table. I looked up at him through my lashes and began to slowly undo the wrap around his torso, he winced as we got to the lower bandages that stuck to the edges of the wound where blood was crusted to the cotton.

He winced as I dabbed on some anti infection and pain cream Madja had whipped up. “Darling.” His voice was a bit firmer.

I looked up from the gnarly bruising purple and red wound held closed by black thread and found his eyes, tears welling up in my own eyes as he spoke to me. “Darling I’m not mad. I wish I could get up from this damn bed to hold you and show you what this means to me.”

I smiled at him before I turned my attention back to the wound, the edges had started to seal back together nicely, a faint red scar slowly beginning to emerge was an indicator it would heal nicely.

I began rewrapping the cotton bandages around him as I spoke. “We have plenty of time to make up for it now then.”

I tucked in the cotton and helped him sit up slowly. He grimaced as he spoke, adjusting to the strain in his body. “Thank you Starlight. Because of you I had a reason to keep fighting. I said that I didn’t care for children back then because I was scared I would end up too much like my own father, but because of you I know I won’t,” he laughed softly “You wouldn’t let me. If you have helped me realize anything, it is that everything I do to better myself and my court is only possible thanks to you and how you believed in me. The thought of doing it all for you has helped me through every time I doubted myself.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked into his amber ones. “Eris…”

He gave me a smile that was mixed with a wince as he tried to pull me into his arms and lap. “Don’t worry Starlight, I'm not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

I let out a small laugh as I buried my head in the crook of his neck. “…For both of you…” he added.

“I’m sure you will be an amazing father Eris.” I yawned and curled up closer to him.

I awoke to a wave of nausea, excusing myself from Eris’s arms saying I would bring him some food as we and slipped into the kitchen, the little vial in my hands. I stirred a drop into a warm cup of tea and sipped on it for a few seconds till the nausea dissolved and I was able to actually drink the warm concoction, I reached for a plate in the cabinet and put a couple of warm pastries the house had made for breakfast on it; another cup of tea ,which I had stirred some honey into, for Eris in my other and started my trek back to his room.

I felt Rhys’s talons knock on my mental shield and I let him in with a tired “Good Morning.”

“Morning! How's he doing?” Rhys called back to me.

“Sore but awake.” I answered by showing him the imagery of the wound in my mind.

I felt his grimace as he replied back to me. “I’ll send Madja up in a bit then.”

“Thank you Rhys.” I motioned back to him.

I felt him slip from my mind with a “No problem sister.”

As I neared the room I heard talking coming from inside of Eris’s room, the door was cracked and I could see Azriel glaring down at Eris before he cracked a smile and patted Eris’s shoulder.

“Look I know we have had our disagreements Eris but I want to be a good male here, for my sisters sake not yours, you make her happy and as long as you are trying to be a good male for her and are going to step up and be a good male for the child you two made then I have no qualms with you. Deal?” He sighed and extended his hand out to Eris to shake.

Eris winced and met Azriel halfway, shaking his hand. “Deal. I plan to be your brother in law anyways.”

I had to stop myself from choking on air, as I pushed the door open slowly acting like I hadn't just overheard their entire conversation. “Alright I’m back and I brought croissants and a warmed honeyed tea with me.”

I turned to look at Azriel, faming my surprise to see him, he raised a brow ar me before nodding and moving to help me carry the plates. “Sorry, I was just coming to check how everything was going on in here, I sent some of my spies out to do a sweep of your court in case any other assassins or conspirators were in place.”

I perked up as he said that sitting the plate of croissants on Eris’s lap. “I can get you a list of those who have given me reason to believe they mean ill intents towards Eris or the Autumn Court in general.”

“That would be helpful.” Azriel nodded, “no rush though, I don’t wanna cause you or Eris any undue stress.”

“I’ll write it down here in a bit when we settle in for the day.” I handed the cup to Eris as he took a sip from it.

Azriel gave me a soft smile and a nod as he slipped from the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Eris nibbled at the pastry in his lap and I fixed myself up a spot in a padded chair at his bedside, making the list for my brother. Eventually Eris finished his breakfast and I sat the plate on his end table, he gently pulled me into his lap and tucked me into his uninjured side.

“We have lots to talk about Starlight.” He crooned at me. “Like what name ideas you've had so far for our little flame.”

I sighed softly nuzzling into his warmth. “I haven’t really thought about it, other things have been on my mind.”

“Like what Starlight?” He mused.

“Like what this means for us?” I chirped back at him, thinking of the earlier conversation I listened in on.

“And what do you want for us Starlight?” He inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice.

I hummed back at him. “I'd like to be an us.”

He hummed back at me, mimicking my own. “And what kind of an us would you like to be?”

I smacked his shoulder softly. “. I dunno, something more than what we are right now? Something official? Married? Mates? I don't know, just something more.”

He snorted trying to play off his panic that he may have been planning the same thing. “A bit forward with the marriage part there huh Star-“ he paused and looked over at me quickly, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Wait. Did you say mates?”

I swallowed and nodded shallowly. “Yeah.”

His eyes sparkled brighter. “I was waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, when did you realize?”

I smiled at him adoringly. “I think I’ve always just known, honestly.”

He moved to cup my face in one of his hands. “I realized the night of the war that Beron died, when you were cleaning the blood off of me with such care.” He pulled me deep into a kiss and hummed. “I think I realized then because it showed how much you cared, you have always been the only person to ever care for me to such a degree.”

I pressed my forehead to his,adjusting how I sat against him. “Then we have forever to look forward to.”

Eris groaned and tried to press another kiss to my lips but missed as I adjusted and his lips landed on my neck instead. “The second I can get out of this bed, we are accepting this bond.”

I snorted and he pouted. “Any questions regarding what the healer said about the pregnancy?”

His eyes sparkled again like one of his hounds he favored when Eris would throw them a scarp at the dining table. “How far along are you then, love?”

“Probably about 2 and a half months, if my assumption of the conception date being the night you became High Lord.” I reasoned.

He raised a brow at me, his hand moving from my hip to rest on my stomach. “And why do you assume that night, we have slept together plenty of times.”

I placed my hand on top of his and watched as his eyes dropped to our combined hands. “I assumed that originally because I started getting sick shortly after that, and my second assumption was the added hormonal boost of all that extra magic in the air. But! Now you have just backed up my assumption without even knowing it.”

“How?” He challenged.

“If it was also the night you realized I was your mate then your hormones and instincts were already heightened from the new magic in your veins and on the hormonal and instinctual boost from the mating bond and then boom!” I made a motion with my hands, “Your hormones and instincts were triple, maybe even quadruple what they were before.”

“Okay, yeah, that actually makes sense.” He mumbled.

Eventually Madja came back in later in the evening, she looked over Eris’s wounds and gave him the all clear as long as he took a few days of rest off. She said she would come by Autumn in a few weeks to connect with the healer there and to help monitor my pregnancy, she handed me a few extra vials of anti-nausea potions with a pat on my back and told me to take it easy myself since I had been stressed enough the day before to make up for several months. She applied a salve to Eris’s wound and placed a smaller bandage over it, since the risk of tearing it was less severe. I handed Azriel the list of possible conspirators and he took it with a nod, his spies would continue to investigate thoroughly since I was officially out of the spy commission.

We returned to the Autumn Court where Eris held an emergency meeting for the entirety of the Forest House staff, he called me on stage with him and announced our mating bond, his intention to marry me, and the news of my pregnancy. As I looked over the crowd tucked nicely under Eris’s bad side to provide support I noticed several of my brother’s spies I had grown close to after working with them for so many years, it was bitter sweet seeing them there, knowing that after all these years they were here to watch over me the way I had watched over and trained all of them with brother when we first joined Rhys’s inner court. Then Eris rolled his shoulders and cleared his voice, the atmosphere of the entire court changing with it. He growled out the names of the two traitors that had hired the hit man on him, two of my brother’s spies dragged them forward and they started begging and panicking as Eris told his court of their treachery. Guards dragged them off to the dungeons and their own deaths were ordered by me as Eris gave me the opportunity to pick the punishment, I found it only fitting they be killed for their crimes as they tried to kill my mate.

It was the first of many things Eris would have me decide for the court but we had other matters to handle first. We spent the rest of the week relaxing as the rest of his wound healed till all that was left was an angry red scar and by the end of the week the smallest bump had become visible along with the obvious scent change that let everyone know of my condition, it was barely noticeable but it was enough for Eris to be practically feral. When a craving for one of the Autumn Court’s signature desserts, a pumpkin bread loaf, hit me Eris had slaved away in the kitchens till he presented one he baked himself to me. The bond had been consummated,after everything had settled into place a week or two later we were married in front of his entire court and the rest of our friends and family; after our marriage ceremony he held a second ceremony making me his high lady.

Months passed by and my bump grew quickly, by the fourth month Madja had condemned me to general rest since she knew it would be impossible to keep me in bed but I was to be relaxing at all times, either laying down or sitting on either a bed or a padded couch. Between Madja and the male healer who I learned was named Nicoden’s constant checkups I learned they were mildly concerned with the speed in which the babe was growing, at first I argued with Madja it was probably due to wings from the Illyrian blood but she shot down my suggestion when she made the point Feyre wasn’t nearly as big with Nyx and he had wings. Eventually Nicoden made a suggestion about there being more than one babe, we had caught it too early to discern genders or numbers the first time I had seen him, he cited the fact Azriel and I were twins when Madja tried to disagree; it had come down to Nico and Madja putting money on it and both of them glaring at the other as they checked the babes, my answer came in the format of Madja digging into her pockets to smack a few notes into the males outstretched hand.

“Can we keep this between the three of us? I want to surprise Eris with the news.” I asked.

They both agreed and Nico turned to me excitedly, “Do you want to know the gender of the babes yet?”

When I disagreed he got very smug, knowing something like that and being one of the only two to know. “Anything I can do to help with the surprise?”

Madja kissed my forehead and helped me adjust how I was sitting so I could get a sip from a drink I had mixed my anti nausea medicine in. “Actually Nico, there is. Since I’m on rest could you run into the city for me and pick out a toy for each of the babes? Wrap them all in a box together and I’m sure he will catch the drift.”

Nico was practically vibrating in his seat as he nodded excitedly, Madja congratulated me and dismissed herself to winnow home. Eris was in his last meeting of the day when Nicoden returned with the box and an eager smile on his face.

‘Tell me how it goes.’ He mouthed.

I rolled my eyes and agreed, shooing him out of the room. I sat the box beside me on the padded chair and returned to my book while waiting for Eris to return to our room for the night.

It was about an hour later when my red-headed mate slinked into our room, exhaustion evident in his features. He had been swamped with meetings trying to get everything wrapped up with the investigations and getting the newly appointed ones adjusted to their roles before he would have to take a few weeks off with me when the babes arrived.

He dragged himself over to me, kissing me softly. “Hello darling, I missed you.” he groaned as he sat on the sofa beside me and stretched out.

“I have a surprise for you love.” I mused, closing my book and tossing it to the coffee table.”

“Oh? What’s that love?” He yawned.

“Here, open it, slowly now.” I handed him the delicate box.

He straightened how he was sitting, plopping the box into his lap and pulling two plush toys from the box: one a small fox and the other looked like one of his hounds. “Two toys? Is it for the babe?”

“Babes.” I corrected.

“Babes?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Babes.” I nodded.

“Babes!” He cheered

Tears welled in his eyes as he littered my face with kisses until he suddenly pulled back brows furrowed. “How did you get these? You didn't go into town did you?”

I snorted at his protective nature. “No, I had Nicoden go and fetch them for me after we found out so I could surprise you.”

“Remind me to give him a bonus.” Eris growled out to me with a smile on his face as he pulled me into a sloppy kiss.

I took the toys from him and sat them softly back into the box, he pouted at me but cut himself off by yawning. “Alright Eris darling I do believe it is time for bed. We are all tired.”

Eris stood motioning for me to wait and took a few steps forward as he yawned, the fangs that grew when he became high lord flashing in the firelight. My eyes raked over his body as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing it in the basket the laundress would take in the morning.

He looked over at me with a feline-like grin on his face. “Do you want to change into anything love?”

I nodded and watched as he kicked the heeled shoes he wore into their place beside the door. “Can I get my black nightgown? The silk one?”

He nodded and stepped into the walk-in closet coming back out with my gown over his shoulder, he had changed into loose silk pants that matched said gown and tossed his slacks into the basket.

“This one right?” He held it up for me to see and when I nodded he sat it on the foot of the bed.

He walked over to me , helping me slowly stand and he escorted me to the bed; I held onto one of the four posters as he helped me out of my daily wear and into the silk sleeping gown. When we were both satisfied with the level of comfy we were at, he helped me into the bed and under our covers; he rounded the bed to crawl into his own side, though he was quick to curl up around me with his hand on my stomach and he was out like a light the second I dismissed the faelights.

The rest of the pregnancy was rather uneventful, but when the babes decided to come several days early they made up for the lack of excitement. Eris had been in a meeting with Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and the rest of the inner circle discussing heightening defenses for the babes ceremonies and the ball that would be hosted in their honor when they decided to come; while I was simply being helped up from my bed by Madja, who had made her home in the autumn court a week before the babes birth to be prepared for them, to go to the bathroom. I had stood and only taken a couple of steps when my water had broken and Madja told me not to worry, summoning Nicoden who quickly prepared the room for the birth faster than I could blink. Madja had written to my mate and brothers, informing them of the upcoming labors and invited them to sit outside the room but due to the protective natures males got over their mates and spawn were not allowed inside till after everything was completed; Madja helped me into a birthing gown and into bed while Nico summoned the gaggle of top of the line healers he and Madja had picked, in total there was about 6 healers counting Madja and Nico in the room that evening. It had been a rough labor due to tears and cuts from the wings on one of the babes; the smaller of the two ,a male, had a pair of wings equal to the size of his body and the talon of his wing had caught wrong on his way out and cut into me but thankfully my body healed it rather quickly. The blood made the labor seem worse than it was, after the first of the twins, a large wingless female, was out the rest was rather easy until the smaller twin’s wing caught. Madja was focused on me while Nico focused on the babes health, one nurse I remembered as Madja’s apprentice from Velaris was constantly monitoring my vitals, another was at my side dabbing my brow with a wet cloth, one was helping Nicoden with the babes and the final one was stood off to the side writing down whatever he was told too.

Eventually both babes and myself had been cleared, Nico passed them both to me and they curled up right against my chest. Madja had all the nurses off to one side as she and Nico magiced the room clean, a talent I noted I would so have to learn soon. Nico and Madja exchanged looks to each other before both nodded and Nicoden cracked the door open, stepping out to talk with my mate and family. When he came back in, Eris followed, peeking his head in, his eyes fell on me and the babes and I watched as they teared up; he took a few steps into the room softly shutting the door so it wouldn’t wake either sleeping babe and crawled onto the bed beside me. He sat very patiently beside me, his eyes sparkling with tears as he watched the two babes sleep and cling to their plush toys. The nurses, Nicoden, and Madja all dipped into the hall with my family to give us space.

I nodded towards the babe on my left side where he sat”Your daughter, hold her Eris.”

“My… daughter?” His voice cracked and I watched the tears start rolling down his face.

“Yep, she was the first born.” He looked up at me, the complete adoration in his features was the biggest indication of how he was feeling.

“Oh! The mother has blessed us.” He mumbled and sniffled, looking back down at her.

He rocked her gently and she opened her eyes, his bright golden ambers, she cooed and giggled up at him. “Well hello there.” He cooed right back at her, booping her little nose with his finger.

She grasped onto his finger and he looked up at me and looked like he was about to burst at the seams with tears. “Ohhhh Eris!” I mused at them softly.

“Seraphina? For her name?” He asked with a whimper.

“I like it, Seraphina she is then.” I smiled at him, he leaned in to give me a kiss.

“What about your son Eris? Would you like to hold him too?” I asked softly, and he nodded swiftly.

He placed Seraphina back into my arms and took the tiny male from my arms, he fit perfectly in the palm of Eris’s hand and when Eris realized how small he was he broke into tears.

“He’s so tiny, love… He fits in my hand.”I could see the tears run down his cheeks as he held the tiny winged male close.

“Eris, love, its okay. Nothings wrong with him.” I cooed to him.

“He’s just so tiny… What if I hurt him?” he mumbled and sniffled.

“You would never Eris, I know that. You are a gentle and patient male, you can do this.” I mused, extending my free hand to his cheek.

He looked up at me, eyes sparkling with tears. “You name him, I named her.”

I hummed considering a few options before I finally spoke. “Orius?” It's the name of one of the stars above Velaris.”

He nodded softly “Orius and Seraphina, our babes, by the mother.”

He held Orius close and sobbed, fully sobbed. “Eris love, what's wrong?”

“What if I can’t do this? What if I turn out just as bad as Beron? I can't do that to them, look at how precious they are!” His voice cracked as he confided in me.

“Eris,” I called to him softly, my voice barely above a whisper in the intimate setting. “ What did I say about your fear of becoming Beron?”

He hiccuped as he tried to suck in a breath. “That my fear of becoming Beron, is what will keep me from becoming Beron and will help me become a better father than he was?”

I smiled at him and yawned softly. “Exactly, I know you Eris Vanserra and I know you will be the best you can be for me and for them now too.”

I pulled him into a kiss and he managed to pull himself together just enough to thank me. “Think you can handle your family or are you too exhausted?”

“I can handle them, if I get too tired I’ll just fall asleep with them here. They can’t blame me.” I joked and he snorted.

He waved his hand towards the door and snapped, it swung open softly on its hinges and I watched as everyone realized they were invited in. Azriel was the first through the door and the first to my side, the rest of the circle lounged in various seats around the room. Nyx had gone with Madja and Nico so his mother and father could meet the newest editions, but he was still a babe himself so he simply slept in the older female's arms while they made their way back to Nicoden’s office.

I passed off Seraphina to Azriel, his eyes welling up as he looked her over. She was bright eyed and curious, cooing away at him.

“Meet your niece Az.” I yawned and Eris moved up the bed to sit against the propped up pillows with me.

“Well hello there mam.” Azriel whispered at the small female who shook her little fist at him.

I yawned and nuzzled into Eris, I fell asleep rather quickly exhausted from the birth but now comfortable enough with my family around to relax. Everything was going to be okay, I had Eris and we had our Seraphina and Orius. Eris’s spiced cinnamon scent was like a lullaby as I drifted off into dreamland imagining what our future would look like from here on out. No matter what the pros and cons ended up being, I was happy they resolved the way they did, everyone together celebrating.

Taglist: @minaethrym, @melsunshine

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

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there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage.

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land.

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace.

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey.

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there.

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go.

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.”

you didn’t need to tell him twice.

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day.

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.”

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.”

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan.

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy.

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.”

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.”

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know.

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?”

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.”

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.”

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.”

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.”

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.”

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return.

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.”

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.”

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?”

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.”

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.”

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?”

he turned to you, “five star?”

“what are we doing?”

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next.

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.”

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.”

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start.

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–”

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.”

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?”

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows?

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.”

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.”

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.”

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.”

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“let me hear the song.”

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!”

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.”

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.”

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.”

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.”

“we really need to get out of bed.”

“five more minutes?”

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again.

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

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