#I pity the people who have to clean up after him though

[indecisivemuch]

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 | joel miller x reader x emmett

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | the last thing you wanted to do was make emmett jealous, or question your loyalty to him; but as it turns out, he may be a little more supportive than you expected when he catches you looking at joel miller.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 7.1k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - 18+ only (threesome, established relationship, sharing/hotwife kink, daddy kink, oral m and f receiving, anal and DP, creampie, light choking, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, some very gentle/mild degradation, tons and tons of praise), implied age gap (not specified, obviously reader is an adult), takes place in the last of us universe but pretty much porn without plot lol so don't overthink it

In the last year of traveling with Emmett, you’d mostly avoided the QZs.  He said that the people there were cheats and liars at best— and that’s to say nothing of the corrupt military leaders that actually ran the place.  However, desperation puts people into positions they never expected to be. 

After all, you would’ve never imagined being with a man like him, though in this case you meant it in a good way— that you never thought someone as brave and resourceful as him would want somebody like you.

But, that said, you made yourself useful when you could.  The best thing you could offer was your medical knowledge, and you were always the one tending to Emmett after injuries or illness.  Still, he promised that he loved you for who you were, not what you could do for him.  He was shockingly gentle, and passionate, especially for someone who had been forced to be rather ruthless to survive in this new world.

So, while you had been avoiding the quarantined areas and sticking to abandoned strips of forest and city, a lack of food out there forced you to venture to Boston— or, what was left of it.

Fortunately, you'd found more hospitality here than you expected.  Maybe it was just pity— and wanting some more of that ammo Emmett had sold him— but a man named Joel Miller had given you a place to stay and helped you earn some rations here so you could finally eat.  He reminded you of Emmett in some ways: stoic, hardworking, and generous beneath that hardened exterior.  But Emmett had become much more sensitive and open with you in your time together, and Joel was all but a stranger.  Sometimes he was so stern that he almost seemed irritated with you, but he kept letting you and Emmett stay, so he must not have been too annoyed by you.

And, you helped him how you could— like when he was in yours and Emmett’s room, sitting in the chair and talking to Emmett about something to do with tomorrow’s open jobs, and you noticed a cut across his palm.

“I-I can help with that,” you offered softly, motioning to the injury.  “Do you want me to bandage it for you?”

“It’s not that bad,” Joel shook his head.

“It’s easier to clean it now than worry about an infection later,” you reminded him.

Though he seemed a little tense, glancing at Emmett for a moment, he relented with a nod.  You smiled lightly as you stepped forward and knelt by Joel’s feet, picking up his hand and examining the cut.

Once you figured what it needed, you quickly hopped up to rifle through your bag, bringing back a disinfectant wipe and a roll of gauze.  Holding his hand open— and feeling a little flustered from touching his warm, rough skin— you carefully wiped up the cut.  “Does it hurt at all?” you asked him.

“Not too bad,” he replied lowly.

“You should see Emmett when I’ve gotta wrap him up,” you giggled, “he always acts like what I’m doing hurts more than when he actually got the injury in the first place.”

“Hey,” Emmett warned you in a stern voice, but you smiled up at Joel who returned with a small smirk.

“Alright, all better,” you hummed as you finished bandaging Joel.  “Let me know if it’s hurting you too much, that’s a bad sign.  Don’t just ignore it and act tough, okay?”

Joel seemed a little uncomfortable— if not sort of amused by— taking orders from you, but he nodded.  “I’ll let y’all get to bed now,” he decided as he stood up.  “Sleep well.  Lot of work to be done in the morning.”

“G’night,” Emmett offered him with a nod.

You felt a little strange, him standing up fully while you were still on your knees on the floor.  “Goodnight, Joel,” you said, your voice sounding sweeter and girlier than you intended.  Your face felt warm— you worried Emmett had noticed the change in your voice, too, but would he think much of it if he had?  

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it that night, simply pulling you close when you got into bed, burying his face in your neck.

But the next night, that was a different story.  You weren’t actually going to sleep yet, even though it was late enough for it— he’d already changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants, while you were still in your dress, but he’d laid back on top of the sheets and patted the bed, silently asking you to join him.  You smiled and obeyed, of course, leaving the lamp on as you slipped in by his side.

Emmett held you gently, rubbing your back as you laid your head on his chest.  “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked quietly.

For what? you wondered, but just shook your head instead.

“We can stay up a little longer,” he decided.  “Didn’t get a chance to hold you all day.”

“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, nuzzling in more as you squeezed his torso a bit.

“Or talk to you much,” he continued.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, looking up at him from your head’s happy place on his shoulder.

“Just something I noticed,” Emmett replied, looking back at you sweetly as he brushed your hair aside with his fingers.  "I think you've got a crush on Joel."

You froze, face getting warm in an instant.  "I-I only want you, Emmett, I swear— you know I would never—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed as he chuckled a little, "it's okay, baby.  I'm not angry with you… you're not doin' anything wrong."

"Really?" you asked nervously, and he nodded.  "I thought you might be jealous…"

He shook his head and laughed a little.

"I-I just think he's handsome," you explained, "and sort of nice— but that's really it!"

"It's alright, baby," he purred, "cause you know something?  I was talking to him earlier today, and he wants you too."

Your sat up and your eyes went wide as you tried to imagine that conversation.  You could hardly believe that that was true, let alone that Joel has admitted it to Emmett… or had Joel approached Emmett about it, asking for a night with you?  Oh god, your head already hurt trying to wrap itself around this…

"I know how hard it is to keep a naughty little thing like you satisfied," Emmett explained with a smirk, sitting up with you and speaking softly beside your ear.  “I'm willing to bring in a little… outside help."

Just then, the door opened slowly and Joel stepped inside.  You watched him, totally unsure how to feel, as he shut the door behind himself, and then his eyes met yours.

"C'mere," Emmett offered to Joel, patting the bed beside you two.  "No need to be shy, Miller."

You watched as Joel took a seat on the bed, and you looked at Emmett as you lowered your voice.  "You don't have to do this for me," you promised him softly.  "You know I love you— I only need you—"

"It's okay," he soothed as he pet your face.  "I told you, I'm not angry.  I want you to do this."

"You… want me to?"

"If you want it," Emmett replied.

You shivered as Joel leaned forward a bit, reaching out to gently rub up and down your leg.  "What do you think, princess?" he asked softly.  "Don't worry, you're not gonna hurt my feelings if you say you don't wanna—"

"I want to," you admitted quickly, afraid to lose your courage if you waited any longer to say it.

Both men smiled at you as you looked back and forth between them; Joel's warm brown eyes against Emmett's steely blue ones… they were so similar, and so opposite, in so many impossible ways.

Without saying anything, Joel suddenly lifted your chin and guided you into a kiss.

You felt strange kissing someone other than Emmett, something you hadn't done in quite some time.  Joel's lips weren't as soft as Emmett's, and his kiss wasn't as gentle; he moved his hand to the back of your neck to hold you close, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth.  It wasn't too aggressive or anything, but it was certainly quite forward.  Emmett's hands were still on you, gently rubbing your back, and you reached back to find and hold one just as your other arm wrapped around Joel's broad shoulders.

Joel made you gasp by breaking away to kiss at your neck instead; you squeezed Emmett's hand slightly.  "Fuck, she sounds so pretty," Joel noticed when you moaned at his teeth teasing your pulse.

"Yeah," Emmett agreed.  "She can get loud, too, so let's just hope she doesn't wake anybody up…"

Joel pulled your hand away from Emmett's and guided it to the bulge in his jeans; you sighed as you felt it, a hot feeling stirring in your chest.  "See how you got me all worked up already?" he scolded you playfully.  "C'mon and take it out for me."

Your hands were shaking more than you realized when you brought them to unfasten his belt… it felt new, and exhilarating, and a little scary as well, to be with someone new after so long.  But you remembered when it was new with Emmett and it felt like this, exciting and weird and wonderful all at the same time.  But you'd known Emmett longer before anything happened between you— you'd only met Joel a few days ago.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his erection.  It was so hot to the touch, you were worried your fingers felt cold to him, but he didn't seem to mind much.  You shuddered as you released it from the fabric, your mouth falling slack and your hand instinctively beginning to stroke it gently.

Joel's cock wasn't as long as Emmett's, but it was thicker, with a slight curve to one side.  Regardless of exactly what it looked like, you were just amazed to see and stroke another cock but Emmett's— it had been so long, and you hadn't been with all too many people before Emmett anyways.

"Show him what you can do, baby," Emmett encouraged in a low voice, and you nodded as you leaned down to capture Joel's cock between your lips. 

He hummed as you licked and sucked the tip, swirling your tongue over the head.  But he groaned aloud when you dipped lower and took as much as you could into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock bump into the back of your throat.

Then you set your pace, hollowing your cheeks and slowly moving up and down on his length.  Your jaw ached slightly already and you'd only just started.

You felt Joel's hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just guiding you in your movements.

"Mm," Joel praised with a grunt.  "Your girl's got a sweet fuckin' mouth, Emmett…"

"Yeah," he agreed, "and she loves using it— gets her so wet, feel it."

You whimpered slightly as Joel reached back over you and pulled up your dress, slipping a hand inside your panties.  His fingers curled through your lips, even toying with your swollen clit for a moment, and you moaned around the thick cock in your mouth.

"Damn," Joel chuckled, "she's soaked."

You broke away from Joel and turned around, looking at Emmett expectantly as you sat on the bed.  "Can I suck you too?  Please?"

Joel chuckled a little as Emmett nodded, letting you pull his pajama pants down as his hard cock bounced free.  It was nice to get back to what you knew for a moment, and you didn't hesitate at all to take hold of him and lick a long stripe up his shaft.

Joel took the opportunity while you were facing away from him to toss up your dress and pull your panties down; he purred at the way the fabric stuck to your pussy, peeling off slowly with all the wetness there.  "Fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned as he got a good look at it.  

Two thick fingers rubbed over your clit until your toes curled; putting your head down in Emmett's lap to suck him sort of forced your hips up, nearly at eye-level with Joel, and feeling him explore you so gently made you feel exposed in the best way.

He slid one finger into your hole, just one, and you clenched down on him.  "Damn," Joel groaned.  "I don't know how you find the energy to do anything but fill this pretty little pussy of hers, Emmett."

But Emmett wasn't really paying attention to him— he was watching you with heavy eyes and a slack mouth, petting your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock.

"Just like that," Emmett praised you quietly.  When you moaned around him in response, it turned into a muffled cry as Joel suddenly took his finger out of you and replaced it with his tongue.  His hands held your ass and kept you spread wide for him, burying his face in your pussy and tasting everything his tongue could reach… which was a lot.  Your whole body quivered when he licked a long stripe up from the base of your clit all the way up, higher and higher, even running over that hole as you shuddered.  

Your moans vibrated through Emmett's cock and his hand in your hair tightened into a fist and tugged on you a bit.  "Fuck," Joel moaned against your soaking folds, "tastes even better than it looks."

"Feels even better than it tastes," Emmett promised with a smile, though he snarled as he pulled your head off of him by your hair and guided you into a rough, dominating kiss.  He all but threw you back towards Joel, and you were sort of dazed and moving on instinct as Joel turned you around to face him.

But as you leaned down to suck Joel's cock again, he stopped you with a hand around your neck.  "Taste yourself first," he ordered before he kissed you, diving his tongue right into your open mouth as you whined at the tangy flavor of your arousal coating his lips.  

He pulled you back from the kiss with a growl, holding your hair and examining your face— you must have looked fucked out already, panting through your mouth and looking at him as you waited for your next instruction.

“Was she always this desperate?” Joel asked Emmett, though he was still looking at you. “Or did you train her?”

“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Emmett replied with a light chuckle.

He shoved your head back down into his lap, guiding his cock to your waiting lips and groaning when you swallowed it down.  “Good fucking girl,” he praised.  “So fuckin’ dirty— damn, that tongue…”

You gagged harder on Joel’s cock when you felt Emmett toying with your clit, teasing you with slow and delicate circles that made your toes curl.  “Wanna fuck her?” Emmett asked Joel simply; your hole pulsed in anticipation.  The way they talked over you, like you weren’t even there, was sort of irritating: but it made you so desperate, and you couldn’t even figure out why.

Joel just laughed.  “Are you kidding?” he wondered.

It was Emmett’s hand that pulled you off of Joel’s cock, but Joel grabbed your neck— not too tightly, just enough to make you let a whimper out of your open mouth— and flared his nostrils as he stared closely at your face.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered firmly, and you nodded right away.  They both let you go and you took the position, feeling a little shy again suddenly— like you had any right to be shy now.  You faced Emmett, your hands on either side of his lap as he sat up on the bed, and he reached up to hold your face as you heard Joel get up and kneel behind you.

He teased you by running the head through your folds a few times, your lip catching between your teeth as the tip bumped against your swollen clit.  Emmett studied your face closely, watching your mouth go slack and your brows knit together as Joel pushed just barely inside you.

And then you cried out, far too loud, because he shoved the rest of the way in at once.  "Shit," Joel hissed, "fuckin' tight little thing.  Fuck."

You could feel his gaze on your hole, no doubt watching himself split you open so wide, when his hands spread your ass open again for a better view.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” Joel awarded it with a sigh.  “Fuck, feel how good you fuckin’ take that?  Feel how easy this big cock slides right into ya?  Such a sweet little girl…”

Easy was one way to describe it— and yes, you were wet enough that he hardly had any resistance— but it felt like too much to really be easy.  You fluttered your eyes open, not even noticing that you’d shut them, and found Emmett’s gaze still on you.  How was it possible that he was looking at you with so much pride in his eyes?  You bit your lip and returned his stare, whimpering each time Joel thrusted roughly into you.  

"How's it feel, baby?" Emmett asked you as he gently stroked your cheek.

You choked a little, not sure you could find the words for it.  "Different," you managed to blurt out, and both men chuckled a little.

"Yeah, bet it is different," Joel agreed, "don't think I'm gonna be as sweet with'ya as your old man here usually is."

Well, fair enough: Joel wasn't in love with you, so why should he treat you the same?  Actually, your thighs shook a little as you thought about that… Joel just wanted to use you, fuck you like a toy and toss you back to Emmett when he was done.  It should've been demeaning, but it made your back arch a little deeper.

"Yeah, fuck," Joel praised, "she likes that.  Wants me to fuck her harder, I can tell."

“Then do it,” Emmett instructed him.

Joel gripped your hips tightly and slammed into you, making you choke on your own cry.  “F-fuck—” you stammered, suddenly gripping Emmett’s shoulders for stability.

“God,” Joel choked behind you; you could feel the bandage you’d given him as his hands held onto your hips, keeping you steady so he could pump into you as hard and fast as he liked.

You whined and dropped your head on Emmett’s shoulder, hearing him gently soothe you as each thrust rocked you forward into him.  “Takin’ it so well,” he praised softly, “that’s my girl…”

Emmett started to push your dress down your arms and chest, exposing your tits for his big hands to rub slowly; Joel reached around and felt them too— and four hands on you felt like more than you could keep track of.  A hand running up your thighs, squeezing your ass, teasing your tits, even wrapping around your throat and threatening to tighten… you were overwhelmed, in the best way.

"God, she's so perfect," Joel breathed.  "Can't believe you let me borrow her."

"Just don't come inside her," Emmett instructed, "that's just for me."

"Fuck, I don't mind," Joel grunted, "think I'll like painting that pretty face…"

“She swallows, too,” Emmett smiled, “if you like that.”

“Like it?  Fuck,” Joel laughed, “that’s fucking hot.”

“E-Emmett,” you whimpered in protest, “I never… I’ve never done that for anybody but you…”

“Well, it’s not so different for anybody else,” Emmett assured you with a chuckle.  “You’ll swallow his come if I tell you to, won’tcha?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Good girl.”

That was all you really wanted— to be good for him.  And you felt your chest fill with pride knowing he was happy with you now, even if you’d never expected this to make him happy.  He could be very protective of you, and you assumed he would never want another man to lay a hand on you— he’d killed men for less, actually.  But you realized that there was a massive difference: those men had threatened to hurt you, had scared you, had tried to take you from him.  Joel was the first man other than Emmett that you’d trusted, let alone shown any interest in.  Emmett was too busy fighting off creeps to mention that he didn’t actually mind good guys getting a chance with you, apparently.

Joel kneaded a handful of your ass roughly, and you whimpered when you felt one of his fingertips start to rub gently against your other hole.  “What about this hole?” he asked with a groan.  “This just for you, too?”

Emmett grinned a bit.  “She’s only done that a few times… what do you think, baby, wanna let Joel try your ass?”

It was already quite an ordeal to get Emmett to fit in there, and you whined just imagining Joel trying to fit that thick cock in your ass— “Oh my god, she just got so fucking wet,” Joel noticed.  Clearly, imagining it was having some effect on you.  “Think she wants it— don’t ya, sweet girl?”

Though your cheeks burned with shame, you nodded, and both men chuckled darkly.  “Warm her up first,” Emmett suggested.

“Of course,” Joel agreed, “wouldn’t wanna break your toy.”

You moaned just from him saying that, before he’d even started to gently press his finger inside you.  He spit right down onto it as he slid the digit inside, making you clench around him— both ways.  He hummed lowly, twisting and curling the finger into you, still fucking your pussy (though slower than before, thank god).

You gasped as a second finger carefully slid in, almost pushing you too far and making you wince slightly— but Emmett soothed you and kissed the side of your face, rubbing your back to help keep you relaxed.  “You can take it,” Emmett promised, “be my good girl, okay?  Let him get you ready.”

You nodded and clung tighter to Emmett, moaning when Joel twisted his fingers around and even curled them a bit inside you.  “Not too much, is it?” Joel wondered when you whined loudly.

“No, she’s tougher than she looks,” Emmett answered— you sort of thought that question was for you, but you were too desperate to answer properly anyways.

Joel could pump those fingers in and out of you now, picking up the pace slightly to match the way he thrust his cock into your cunt, but when he tried to spread them a little wider he didn’t have much luck.  “Still too tight, I think,” Joel noticed with a laugh.  “Y’sure she can get stretched out enough for it?”

“Yeah,” Emmett promised, “I can help, hold on—”

He brought two fingers to your open mouth; you sucked on them instinctively, shutting your eyes and moving your head forward to swallow them as deep as you could.  What Joel said before suddenly made sense— he really did have you trained.

You bobbed and suckled on Emmett’s long fingers, hearing him whisper his praises to you before he suddenly pulled them out— your open mouth chased after them for a second, and Joel seemed to notice with a small, condescending laugh— and reached over your back, pushing the slick fingers into your hole right beside Joel’s.

“Fuck!” you yelped at the feeling, legs shaking as you realized you’d never been this full: a cock and four fingers, it was more than you’d ever imagined.

Joel groaned a little, picking up the pace of his thrusts into your pussy again, and you did your best to breathe steady as those fingers pumped in and out of you.  You couldn’t deny the way it turned you on— none of you could, you could hear it as Joel fucked you slowly.  “She’s fuckin’ dripping, Emmett,” Joel noticed with a sigh, “she really likes this little ass played with, huh?”

Emmett laughed and nodded in agreement.  “She likes doing what she’s told,” he clarified.

“Such a good little slut,” Joel praised, and you whimpered before Emmett kissed you again.

They continued that way until you worried you’d start begging for a cock in your ass if they made you wait anymore— thankfully, they didn’t make you embarrass yourself like that, Emmett felt with his fingers and saw in your eyes that you were ready.  Pulling his fingers out of you, he glanced at Joel behind you: “Go ahead,” he offered simply.

Joel’s fingers left your ass, too, and you felt empty there but different— when his cock slipped from your cunt, you gasped a little at having nothing inside you for the first time in a while, and you glanced back at him.  “Yeah,” Joel encouraged, “keep lookin’ back at me while I put my cock in your ass.”

You felt a little awkward doing that, but you did it anyways, biting your lip as he met your gaze and lined up his thick head with your stretched ass.  He was still soaked from being in your pussy, and your ass was pretty much dripping with spit now, so he didn’t have too much trouble pushing into your puckered hole— but it was still tight, and you still winced (but kept your eyes on him, of course).

Even with all that prep, you shuddered and whined as Joel slowly slid into your ass— he savored every inch, licking his lips and groaning as he stretched you wider and wider.  He seemed to just get thicker, even at the very base of him, and your eyes rolled back when he was seated in you all the way.  And then he punched his hips just that little bit more, apparently intent on burying himself in you as far as humanly possible; you gasped and hugged Emmett tighter, turning your head towards him again but shutting your eyes tight from the sting of the stretch.  

“God fucking damn,” Joel moaned, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips, clearly trying to control himself.  “Fuck, Emmett, you’ve really got yourself such a perfect little fucktoy— where’d you find her?”

Emmett smiled wide, stroking your hair and looking at your face— painted with filthy pleasure— tenderly.  “She found me,” he answered.  “Still got no fuckin’ idea how I got so lucky.”

Joel started to move, making you tighten your hands into weak fists, and set a careful pace that gave you some time to adjust… even if not quite as much as you would’ve wanted.

A sudden, sharp thrust nearly knocked you forward— thankfully Emmett was there to catch you— and you moaned loudly.  Emmett laid down slightly, letting you lay on top of him and hide your face in his chest.  “That’s my girl,” he praised quietly.

As Joel’s movements sped up a little more, he sighed, seeming to find a comfortable pace (for him, at least) as you forced yourself not to tense up: it didn’t hurt, but it was certainly an intense feeling, especially when you felt Joel’s heavy balls slap against your dripping pussy.

"This'll be better than coming on your face," Joel grinned.  "Filling up this tight ass, fuck, you're so dirty, baby…"

You felt someone move your hips down a bit, changing the angle of it all, but you were too lost in it to even know who it was.  Emmett kissed your neck, teeth teasing your pulse, and you whined— you would beg him to bite you and leave a mark that everyone could see, if you could speak at all right now.

Your legs ended up straddling Emmett’s lap, and you gasped when you felt his cock press against your pussy— you'd been too distracted to even notice him taking it out— and he cooed at you sweetly.  "You can take both, right?" he asked quietly.  "You've always got room for me, don't you?"

Though you were still intimidated by the idea, you nodded as you bit your lip.

"That's my girl," Emmett praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock.

You almost screamed at the feeling of being so full, digging your fingers into Emmett’s shoulders.  He looked up at you with eager eyes, watching you struggle to take them both— but you eventually relaxed enough to sink down and fit them both to the hilt.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel praised with a groan, holding on tight to your hips as he started to move again slowly— as for Emmett, his hands moved from your waist to your head to guide you into a sloppy, needy kiss.

Your moans were loud yet weak, your shaky hands clutching at Emmett desperately as they both pumped into you.  Joel seemed almost overwhelmed by it, too, leaning down over you, growling and biting at your neck and shoulder. 

“F-fuck, dunno how long I can last like this,” Joel admitted, “so fucking tight…”

You jumped slightly when one of Joel's rough hands reached around your hips and slid down to your clit, rubbing at the bud until you jerked back from the sudden intense sensation.

"Just wanna feel you come first, princess," he explained with a purr.

“A-ah, fuck,” you whimpered, shaking all over as you tried to process all that you were feeling.  They moved you around how they wanted you, and at some point Emmett was sitting up and holding you in his lap while Joel kept thrusting into your ass from behind while holding your shoulder— how were you supposed to keep track of all the anatomy of this, while you had two big cocks stretching you open and Joel’s rough, experienced fingers on your clit.

Emmett moaned against your skin as he kept sucking on your neck, meanwhile Joel was speaking gruffly by your ear, sending chills up your spine.  “Can you come, princess?” he asked darkly.  “‘Round both our cocks?”

“Yes,” you admitted in a gasp, “fuck— Emmett, can I come?”

He smiled against your neck; “Of course, babydoll,” he breathed.  “Let’s show Joel how much you love bein’ fucked like a whore.”

You wrapped your arms around Emmett’s neck, dropping your head limply back on Joel’s shoulder as the feeling washed over you: you tightened up everywhere, inside and out, and they both groaned as they watched you give in to ecstasy.  You weren’t even sure whose hands were where anymore, but they were everywhere, and even through your exhaustion you felt desperation guide your hips to move on their own— chasing an even higher pleasure.

“Fuck,” Joel grunted as he watched you go, his own thrusts getting faster and rougher.  “Fuck, that’s so cute.”

You didn’t expect him to describe you like that in a time like this, and you whimpered as your walls flexed again.  You could tell Joel was getting a little desperate himself, that bandaged hand giving your clit a break and holding your hip tightly instead.  “Come in her ass, Joel,” Emmett ordered with a sigh, staring at your face with heavy eyes, “she’s ready.”

He did it pretty much instantly, groaning lowly and tossing his head back with a sharp breath in through his teeth; you felt him flexing, and it stretched your tighter hole even just that much more.  You whined softly at the feeling, hearing distantly little praises from Emmett, and finally Joel finished and pulled out of you with a little hiss.

It was less of a relief than you expected— your ass was still stretched and sore, and Emmett was still so deep inside you… and then, a moment later, you felt that hot trickle out of your used hole.  You felt filthy with Joel’s come running out of you like that, tickling your inner thigh as it dribbled down— but the way Emmett was looking at you seemed to remove any sense of shame you had left.

"God, look how beautiful you are," Emmett grunted as he guided you to move faster in his lap, "men just can't help it with you, can they?  Bet every guy in this town wants you, bet they're all thinking about having you to themselves— but you're mine, huh?  My girl?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, I'm yours— all yours, Emmett, always—"

"Gonna show Joel whose girl you are," Emmett promised with a growl.  "Gonna get this pussy nice and full how you like it."

"Yes," you said again, a needy groan this time— the tip of his cock was hitting so deep inside you that you could hardly breathe, yet you only wanted more.  "Yes, please, please— come in me, daddy."

"Damn," Joel laughed, "she is dirty."

Emmett grinned.  "Only gets that way when she's real desperate.  Needs her daddy's come so bad…"

“Please,” you begged shakily, feeling him pull you closer and start to buck his hips up into you faster; he was breathing roughly, quickly, and you knew that he was getting close, but he had a habit of holding back until he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore just so he could watch you like this for as long as possible.  

Apparently unsatisfied with the speed and control he could reach with you on top of him, Emmett pushed you back down onto the bed, holding your legs and fucking you hard and fast— you cried out, arching your back as his hands slid up to hold your waist.

You gasped loudly when Joel unexpectedly leaned down and sucked on one of your tits; your back arched even further towards it, and you heard him moan against your skin as his tongue circled the hardened bud.  Emmett's mouth suddenly found the other one, without his pace slowing down at all, and you could've screamed right then.  You hadn't realized how sensitive they would be, and never in your life had you had both sucked on at once— it was so overwhelming, it was making jolts of white hot pleasure burst inside you, and fuck Emmett’s cock was filling you just right, hitting that perfect spot—

"I'm coming," you sobbed, "f-fuck, daddy, I'm coming—"

Emmett groaned loudly, his mouth falling slack around your breast as hot breaths fanned your skin.  You felt him starting to flex inside you, and you moaned louder knowing he was filling you so deep.  His grunts were in time with his deep, hard thrusts into you, and you went numb and tingly all over as the orgasm seemed to drain everything out of you.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, moving up to kiss you slow and sweet— both of you breathing heavily against each other, your shaky fingers reaching up to hold his face and run through his hair.

He broke away and sat up with a sigh; you wanted to kiss him longer, but you were too exhausted to even complain, simply relaxing against the bed and almost wincing when he pulled out of your sore cunt.

Emmett sat back and tugged your limp form up a bit, cradling you as he held your back to his chest.  “Oh, look at that,” he whispered just beside your ear, reaching down to rub your thigh, “all’a my come running out of you… both holes nice and full just how you need… so fuckin’ pretty, baby, my pretty little girl…”

You just whimpered sleepily, soaking in the warmth of Emmett’s embrace.

"Why don't you taste her now, Joel?" Emmett suddenly offered him with a smirk.  

Before you could process that idea, Emmett was holding your legs open while Joel dived down between them.  You whimpered as Joel licked up through your folds, your whole body getting hot at the thought of Joel tasting you and Emmett.  He really didn't mind doing that with another man's come?  The idea that he might just be that insatiable for you…

He suddenly latched on to your clit and sucked hard, making you yelp and buck your hips— but Joel and Emmett were both holding onto you tight, keeping you steady as your body shook uncontrollably.

"Oh, that's it's," Emmett praised, "let him taste you, baby— let Joel lick that pretty pussy, okay?"

"F-fuck— s'really sensitive—" you choked out.

Emmett held you tighter, both hands groping your breasts and his fingertips gently toying with your nipples.  “Bein’ so good for me,” he praised in a low, rough voice.  “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re getting your pussy ate, babydoll— never get to appreciate it ‘cause I’m too busy doin’ it.  But you look so fuckin’ cute like this…”

Your back arched, pushing your shoulders against Emmett's chest as he held you, and he trailed gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. 

"Gonna come, huh?" he noticed, pinching your nipples harder until you whined.  "It's okay, baby, let Joel make you come.  Just one more and you can rest…"

“C-can’t,” you choked, “can’t come anymore—”

“Shh, you can,” Emmett promised.  “You can show Joel how good you are for me, huh?  You can come when I tell you to.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed, grabbing onto Emmett’s hand tightly— though your other hand gripped a handful of Joel’s salt-and-pepper hair, making him look up at you with those dark brown eyes…

“Mhm, you can do it,” Emmett continued, squeezing your hand in encouragement.  “Put your tongue inside her, Joel.”

You shuddered and quaked when Joel obeyed, the most filthy sounds filling the room while Joel lapped and sucked at your leaking pussy.  Emmett’s hand— the one you weren’t holding onto for dear life— groped your tits roughly, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you buck your hips against Joel’s face, but Joel still had that iron-tight grip on your hips to keep you where he needed you.

Joel was moaning lowly against your skin, focusing his tongue attention back on your clit— from teasing little circles around it to hard, rough licks right over it.  This time, when he went back to sucking on the nub harder than ever, you knew you couldn’t hold it back anymore.  “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed, making him groan darkly again.  “I’m gonna come!”

Emmett dragged his teeth over the shell of your ear, laughing softly yet wickedly.  “You’re sayin’ his name now?” he noticed.  “You’re not coming for him, baby, you’re coming for me.  Because I told you to.  Yes?”

“Yes, yes,” you promised, chanting it mindlessly.  “Yours, Emmett— fuck, I’m yours, you know I am.  Only yours.”

His hand moved from your breast to your face, turning it far enough to look at him— those eyes were boring into you, and you whimpered with your lip between your teeth as you hoped you hadn’t disappointed him.  “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Yours,” you repeated as you looked into his eyes— even though your imminent orgasm made it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.  “I’m yours, daddy.”

He grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, his tongue keeping your mouth wide open; he swallowed every moan as you came, moaning himself like he could taste your pleasure in the kiss, holding your hand tighter than ever. 

Joel kept eating you out even when your whole body was shaking, even when your weak little hand was trying to push his head away— he only stopped when Emmett’s hand joined yours, just one touch and Joel lifted his head and sighed.

Emmett guided your hand back up to his face, and you held it (with what little strength you had) as you kept kissing him… though the kiss changed, it went from rough and hungry to soft and slow and gentle.

He stopped kissing you just enough to speak, his thumb petting your cheek so you would open your eyes.  “You did so good for me, babydoll,” he cooed under his breath.

Knowing you had finally done everything he wanted, you melted limply into Emmett’s arms, who chuckled a little at your exhaustion.  

“Looks like you really wore her out, Miller.”

“You did, too,” Joel returned.  “Besides, at that age, I’m guessin’ she’ll be raring to go again by the end of the hour.”

Emmett snorted.  “I can get her begging in five minutes,” he countered.

“Please— m’too tired,” you whimpered, cuddling up tighter against Emmett— but his hand was already snaking up your thigh, teasing further between your legs.

“Too tired, huh?” he taunted quietly, petting closer to your sore pussy until your legs spread naturally to let him touch where he wanted.  “Good girl.”

Two fingers delicately teased you, circling around your clit but never quit reaching it— until you were rocking your hips up to try to find some attention in the right spot.

When he did touch your clit, ever so gently, you shivered and mumbled his name; your eyes still closed, you hid your face in his neck and began to shamelessly rock against his fingers.  He teased your opening, making it apparent how wet you still were, but never dipped inside no matter how hard you tried to tempt him to.

“Please,” you whispered, too desperate to feel guilty for it at all, “Emmett, I need—”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed, “didn’t take long at all, did it?”

“Nope,” Emmett agreed.

“So fuckin’ needy,” Joel groaned.

“Yep,” Emmett responded simply again.  “Tell us what you need, babydoll…”

“I…I need…” you mumbled, face getting warm.  “Need to be full…”

“With what?” Joel pressed.

“Um…” you stalled, nervous to admit it but knowing they wouldn’t rest until you did.  “With a… a cock.”

Emmett snorted.  “Any cock?” he wondered.

“W-well, I figured one of you two—”

They both laughed a little, and you felt silly but your walls tightened against themselves.  “We’re not young like you, sweetpea— it’s not that easy,” Joel explained.  “Gonna need a little more patience…”

“But— but you got me all worked up!” you whined.  “You did that on purpose…”

“Yeah,” Emmett admitted with a purr, “yeah, baby, I did that on purpose.”

You pouted a bit.  “You’re mean sometimes…”

“Mhm,” he agreed with a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joel.  “How long will it take you to get hard again?”

“Not that long,” Joel answered, “if she puts that mouth to good use.”

Emmett helped you sit up, patting your back encouragingly.  “Go ahead, baby, you know what to do…”

As you crawled towards where Joel knelt on the bed, still totally dazed and exhausted, you realized that tonight was far from over— and that tonight may not be all that Emmett had in store for you.

#joel miller smut #emmett a quiet place smut #cillian murphy smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #cillian murphy x reader #joel miller x reader #emmett a quiet place x reader #WELP. this is filthy.

[popquizhot-shot]

EVERYTHING IS FINE- Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

this is it. angsty asf. bittersweet ending it’s sad people. tw: infidelity. based on my most recent post. please comment i’m literally begging you and tell me how you like it<3

In the depths of your heart, you already know. Your Miguel is not yours anymore.

You remember the stolen glances between him and Dana where you pretended not to notice the palpable tension between the three of you amidst the throng of about ten other people in the house.

It was a nice dinner that you’d planned, after spending almost a week away because of your actual job as well as your little side gig that was being a part of spider society.

But fifteen minutes into the little shin-dig and you get a call from none other than your boss. Not the nice one who showed you the ropes when you first joined and provided you with hours of mentorship. The bitch that was a variant of your husband was currently floating above your watch as you glared at him in the bathroom.

“We need you.”

“Not today.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“It’s always an emergency.” you roll your eyes.

“Look this was unplanned, you think my life’s aim is to torment you?”

“Kind of.” you nod and he groans, “Give me twenty minutes.”

——

At the end of twenty minutes, you storm out of your house as quietly as you can, yes it’s an oxymoron but you’re pissed off.

At Miguel, at your husband, at yourself.

Your mother always said that you were one to pity yourself, even when every bad thing that happened was the result of your own actions. All your life you’ve disagreed, but now you think that maybe your mother was probably right.

None of this would have happened if you’d just said no. No to Dana making her way into your marriage to her guy best friend and co-worker.No to the variant of him with fangs and red eyes and No to your own urge of fucking things up because you wanted to see what happened. If maybe what your heart felt was wrong. That there was nothing wrong with you and Miguel, that he still loved you.

You let out a shaky breath and open a portal from an alleyway behind your apartment building. The purple hue reflects onto your face. No, you weren’t a spider. Just a traveller that stumped your boss and changed his perception of everything he knew about the multiverse.

The man himself nodded at you as you stepped onto the platform he was standing on, looking back to the holo of what looked like a rogue Doc Ock, Goblin and another Spiderman.

“What, now we have evil spidermen? Isn’t that breaking the canon?” you raise an eyebrow.

“That’s the thing. There’s no canon event broken. He was meant to be a villain. Yet, I’ve never heard of him, or of this universe.”

You look at him like he’s just told you that he used to be a stripper in college and all his money came from his side-gig, “I’m sorry, what? The all powerful Miguel O’Hara with the pixel suit doesn’t know of the existence of a universe?”

“You’re being real helpful right now.” he grumbles.

“Thank you, I knew you’d appreciate the help.”

——

The house is quiet when you walk in, evidently everyone has left. The kitchen has been cleaned and the lights are off.

He’d always been your biggest supporter. Always so humble even though he had a high position and a fat paycheck, always telling you to let him help you. Doing some of your work for you when you were busy.

The bedroom door creaked a little as you enter, the sound of your loves breathing makes you crack a small smile. His hulking figure curled up and moving up and down. His face slack.

God he was so beautiful.

You shed your clothes and go through your night routine as fast as you can. Brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face. Cursing the pimples that always make their way onto your forehead at the wrong time.

The mattress squeaks as you get on, slowly wrapping your hands around his body. He stirs and looks up at you, his eyes softening. He’d been drinking, you can tell. He hasn’t looked at you like this for a while.

“Hi.” his hands cup your face and you smile softly as you kiss his rough palm. Your own covering his.

“Sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for cleaning up.” your hands mirror his actions, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

He answers you with a soft kiss. And then another. And his hands are travelling down to pull you to him. Engulfing you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. Your hands move to play with his hair as he drifted back to sleep.

You close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine. That the lipstick stain on his shirt in the laundry basket wasn’t the same as Dana’s.

———

“Are you fucking dumb?” O’Hara seethes, as he disinfects the gash at the bottom of your neck.

“It’s just a graze, i’m fine.” you grumble, “it’s not like anyone’s gonna care if i die.”

“No, just shut your mouth. Stop talking like you’re some martyr. There are plenty of people here who would miss you.”

“Miguel, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” you chuckle, “i get it-

“No, you don’t. actually, you don’t get it. the woman i loved died, and she’s gone and i’d do anything to have her back, and you’re so convinced that if you died your own fucking husband wouldn’t want to die too? Stop acting like you’re expendable.” his eyes glow and yours widen, “This may come as a surprise to you, but people care.”

You gulp, “Sorry.”

He grumbles under his breath as he sprays the wound with bacta so it heals faster. Apologising when you wince.

You look at his concentrated face that is focused on wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and the bottom of your neck. His face is mere inches from yours. He is the splitting image of your husband, save from the red eyes and fangs. But this close you can see the differences, his eyebrows are a tad thicker and his ears are smaller.

He is harder and his words are sharp. Your love is soft and quiet. Mean when he has to be, but kinder. More open.

More loving. Yes. He’s more loving and he loves you.

You look away and focus on the ceiling. You don’t see his eyes watching your face. Eyes filled with sadness and want.

——

“Dana, here. Have some tea.” you pour a cup for the woman sitting next to Miguel at the table. At your spot.

Is it toxic to think that maybe you want her to choke on her tea?

She’d started to carpool with Miguel a few months ago , seeing as they worked together and were on the same team, it was more efficient and made more sense.

You didn’t want to seem like a toxic wife so you nodded and agreed, because you were secure in your relationship with your husband.

“Thank you.” she says your name with a wide smile as she sips the tea, “Amazing, as always.”

“I know right, she makes amazing tea.” he smiles at her and raises an eyebrow. Dana snorts.

You look between the pair trying to hide their smiles, “Did I miss something?” an awkward smile makes its way onto your face.

“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it. It’s a scientist thing. I don’t think your writer brain could handle it.” Dana waves you away as if you’re a fucking waiter and you bristle.

But what drives it home is that Miguel laughs out loud when she says that. His hair flops onto his forehead and Dana fixes it for him, her hands running through this hair.

You fight the urge to break a plate on her head but you know it’ll be fruitless. Because your husband will take her side.

Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe the tears you’re trying to hide as you make breakfast are unwarranted and you can’t take a joke.

Everything is fine.

You call out to them from the kitchen, telling them you’re going to be late and his voice is brighter when he says, “Okay, honey.”

—————

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, boss.”

“You look dead.”

“Your eyes bags suggest the same.”

“You’re hilarious.” O’Hara smirks

“Thank you.” you take a sip of the beer he’d passed.

It was late, far past dinner time. And the both of you had taken time to go over the record of what anomalies were most common and key weaknesses in most villains.

“But seriously, are you okay?”

You gulp, “Tell me about your wife. Please.”

He blanches, and then looks at the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Well, where to begin?” he turns to face you, “She…was a writer, she had her own business. She loved sunflowers because they faced each other when the sun wasn’t in the sky.” he smiles sadly, “she was terrified of frogs and dead fish. And she hated onions. The pickiest fucking eater.” he shakes his head and chuckles.

“She sounds sweet.” you know she was variant of you, Miguel had shown you the web of life and in every universe there was version of you that made their way into his life. It was beautiful, honestly.

“She had short hair, and her smile. God, it could make anyone’s day better.” he rested his head on his hand and looked at the hologram shining in front of the both of you.

“She sounds like a dream.” you reply.

“She was.” he nods.

“Hey would you mind bringing up a live of my house?” you ask.

“Why?”

“Humour me, will you?”

He grumbles and a hologram showing your universe pops up, on the screen is your living room. And Miguel freezes when he sees the scene before him.

He sees himself kiss Dana. The version of him who is married, is kissing his co-worker. He’s taking her in his arms and nuzzling her nose. He’s pecking her cheeks and tickling her like she’s his wife.

Like he’s in love with her.

“I love you.” his voice echoes throughout the room. And Dana says it back.

His head whips to look at you. You don’t look surprised, rather, you look defeated. You breathe out like it’s a finality. Your beautiful beautiful eyes transfixed on offending scene in front of you.

Before anything else happens, he shuts it off. Immediately turning to look at your frozen form, “Hey, you with me?”

You shake your head and smile. Eyes still fixed onto where the hologram was, “I’m fine.” Tears fall down your cheeks as your mouth quivers, “I’m okay. Everyday he comes back around this time. And they carpool. I told him I’d be late today. Just after I made them tea and they laughed at an inside joke amongst themselves.”

His eyes widens, “Oh honey.” his moves to hug you and you let out an ugly sob, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I knew it.” you say into his chest, “I’m so fucking stupid.”

His hand pats your back, “You’re not stupid.”

“I mean, I know i was busy, i know i wasnt always home. But I tried, i fucking tried. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITB ME?” the dam breaks and you let out a wrecked shout of agony that breaks his heart into two, “Why wasn’t I good enough?!” your body shakes violently.

“No.” he says firmly, taking your face in his hands, almost squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to looking at him, your hands fly to cover his, “ You are good enough. You are enough. Listen to me. That fucking idiot doesn’t know who he just lost.”

“But-But if i wasnt so busy-

“If he had a problem, he should’ve told you. He’s a fucking pussy.”

Your words are silenced when he shakes you once, hands still holding your cheeks, “You are the most perfect person. And the both of them will pay. I promise that, cariño.”

His arms wrap around you to engulf you as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, rapid breaths slowing. His pulse beats and you can feel the vibrations on your own skin.

You close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Because you’re in his arms.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x you

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 28

part 1 | part 27 | bonus stobin scene | ao3

cw: anxiety attack, graphic thoughts of death

Chapter 7

Steve's mom leaves the week before Thanksgiving.

No preamble, no notice, no "so long and thanks for paying rent," just— poof. Gone. Ta-ta, kiddo. Have a great life!

(Or don't!

Who cares?

Not me, that's for sure!)

The worst part is Steve finds out from Ernie of all people. Ma couldn’t even tell him to his face that she’s abandoning him to the gaping maw of this hellish town because she’s a good-for-nothing coward. Some day this place is gonna swallow him whole, splinter the bones and cough up the pellet, and Florence Harrington will be somewhere far, far away, sighing empty condolences over a fresh glass of red. “Just dreadful, isn’t it? Such a pity; what a shame.”

Steve’s hanging towels on the clothes line the day after the party — after the ride to drop off Max and the hangover brunch with Robin; after drowning his headache in Tylenol and finally getting home, only to realize that he can’t shower yet because all the towels are soaking wet — when Ernie looks up from his yardwork and casually ruins his goddamn life.

“You're wastin' your time with that,” he says, propping his weight against a rake and squinting at Steve in the mid-afternoon sun.

“What?” Steve frowns; hangs another towel. It's not like they're going to dry themselves. "Why?"

"Too cold."

"It's not supposed to rain, though, is it?"

"No, but the humidity—"

Screw the humidity. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Ernie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He turns his attention back to his yard, dragging the rake over a smattering of damp leaves; obsessed with keeping his little patch of lawn pristine; and Steve reaches into the hamper and sincerely hopes that Ernie’s wrong. He needs a shower, and if the towels don't dry fast enough they get that gross mildew smell to them, and then it gets in Steve's hair, and how is he supposed to flirt with Eddie if he smells like musty lake water?

"Where's your mom off to, anyway?" Ernie asks after a moment. "Saw her leave this morning with two big suitcases,” he explains when Steve throws him a questioning look. “Figured she was off somewhere nice.”

Steve blanches.

Two big suitcases?

He didn’t even notice that she wasn’t here. Feels like a stupid, selfish asshole now, because he’d called ‘ma, I’m home!’ when he got in earlier and had thought nothing of her complete lack of response, the peaceful silence of the house; had welcomed it at the time, even, and what if—

Oh, god, what if she’d died?

What if she’d been lying there dead in her room, and Steve didn’t bother to check because he was too busy thinking about himself and how nice it was not to hear reruns on the TV for once? How long would she have lain there, rotting and bloated, and— and how long would his dad have, if the gunshot hadn’t rung out? How long; how long? Bleeding out on the carpet gurgling fish sounds everything red and Steve can’t breathe—

“Did she—?” he pants. Brings a hand to his throat; tries again. “Did you- see who she left with?”

“Some woman. Relative of yours, maybe? I didn’t get a good look at her. Had a real fancy car, though. Mercedes, think it was.”

Steve chokes on his own spit. Feels his throat close up, his heart pound and his ears ring and the yellow-purple-black start creeping in like vines at the edge of his vision, like demogorgon claws; like death’s shark-toothed grin. Hungry, howling, happy as it takes a bite out of him.

“You alright?” Ernie asks.

Steve grinds his jaw so hard he feels something crack. "Excuse me," he grits out, stomping back into the house.

—

"Fuck!" Steve shouts to his empty house — to the sun-faded paneling, to the weird stain in the orange carpet. Fucking Cecelia; fucking hell.

He cleans the house in a rage, eyes hot with unshed tears, and there's a note on the breakfast table. Crisply folded on plain paper, prim cursive letters, almost comically estranged:

Steven,

Apologies for short notice. Gone to stay with Aunt Cece in Evanston. Call or visit if you like.

— Mom

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving

The words leave papercuts in his throat. Steve rips the note to tiny pieces, can hardly see for the tears swimming in his eyes, but he's not crying over this; he's not. He fucking refuses.

Somewhere along the way, the cleaning turns to blind destruction, demolition of the all the little scraps of life mom left behind: her creepy angel figurines, her vintage Pyrex dishes, an empty bottle of old perfume. Steve hurls them all against the living room wall, delights in the shimmering pile of broken glass at his bare feet. Wants to crawl over it on hands and knees. Wants to burn this place to the ground.

When the sun dips below the trees he goes back out to check the towels. The air is wet, bitterly cold; nips at his hands when the wind blows, and the towels hang heavy on the line, just as damp as before but now the slightest bit stiff with the first creep of frost.

"FUCK!" Steve roars, ripping a towel down off the line. Yanking each one down in turn, throwing them into the dirt, raging, "What! Is! The fucking! Point!"

His tears spill over then, hot and wet as he sinks to his knees with a wounded growl, and he chokes there in the dirt; the cold, wet mud, the patchy grass. Gravel digs into his shins, and sobs wrack his chest, capsize him like plunging waves, and he can't do anything but shake and cry where the whole neighborhood can see. Making a commotion; making a scene, as his mother would say, but his mother's not here. She fucking left. She left him here, and his dad did, too, and Steve is utterly, truly, hopelessly alone.

"Come on, son."

And there’s Wayne Munson, coaxing him up off the ground with a sure, strong grip. Steve makes animal sounds as Wayne lifts him under the arms — ruined hiccups, mangled wails. There's mud in his lungs. Ocean silt; sucking sludge.

His mother's gone.

"Easy now," Wayne shushes; hugs him hard against his side. "You're alright, kid. You're alright."

—

part 29

tag list under separate reblogs, comment if you’re over 21 and want to be added tomorrow

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #wayne munson #cw: angst

[celiafufflie]

OC that I made which was heavily inspired from @jazjelspen's platonic x reader fic "My Angel Baby" cause I love it a lot! if u haven't read it give it a it's soo good!!;;

ok idk more info abt her again below the cut ((it might be long)):

--

After being killed by the one person who she admired, respected, and loved the most, Elise spent her first few years in Heaven feeling miserable as she felt like everything that she'd experienced and lived through with her beloved father was all a lie. It was depressing.

Of course she wouldn't show her pitiful state with the others, why would she? They're in heaven, it should be the happiest place anyone could possibly be in! No need to be a bother.

Emily, being the seraphim who's job is to bring joy to all of heaven, saw through Elise's front. 

Having dealt with some poor mortal souls similar to her before, Emily zeroes in on Elise and does her best to keep her from being left on her own thoughts, always including Elise to anything she thinks she would like and find fun. (Elise initially didn’t want to, though she also couldn’t say no. Emily was so sweet and kind, and that makes her guilty.)

It somewhat helped as Elise’s focus shifted on Emily’s efforts, something that she’ll eventually grow fond of. This kept up until they became best friends! …somehow.

Elise seeing what Emily does daily as a Seraphim? Very admirable. But also Elise decided that she wanted to help Emily with bringing happiness and peace to others, making them both always together almost everyday.

It was taxing, but knowing that Emily does this all on her own, Elise would keep on helping her as Emily has helped her before. Plus, doing this with Emily helped her meet interesting people! Like St.Peter! Or maybe Ruth– or Troy! (the guy who dutifully keeps heaven’s dog park clean, bless you Troy)

Or… Adam? He leaves a lot to be desired.

She also met this really pretty, and sweet, older woman that kind of makes her feel somewhat nostalgic. Elise likes her a lot, and the woman also seems to feel likewise! She’d often invite the younger girl over for tea and such, something she’s always happy to attend to. Unfortunately it was an occasional thing as she’d dedicated herself to assisting Emily with her duties.

That was how her (after)life went by as decades passed in Heaven.

Though… Elise sometimes still thinks of him, her father. He’s down in hell, damned for eternity for all the sins and deceit that he’s committed. Deserving for Alastor, fitting for the monster that he truly was.

They both will never meet ever again, and she strongly believed in that.

…

Oh…

How much she misses her beloved father.

#my art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel emily #emily x oc #emily x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #oc #elise

[ghouljams]

Okok idk if you’ve done anything for könig for the medieval au but I can think of no better role for him than the royal executioner. Given a wide berth by all as he is technically forgiven for his job of killing, but beheading a bound prisoner is hardly the stuff of legend, it doesn’t inspire the same awe in folk. König helplessly enamored with a soft maiden reader and well aware of the blood on his hands so he skulks after her, a looming shadow she can’t seem to shake.

I know there's another writer who has an executioner König that I fucking adore, which has made me hesitant to write him in that role. However it's such a good fit for him. My sister is very upset that I made König a hunter and not an executioner, and I have another ask about König being a king put up for our lovely Princess's hand in marriage(Ghost's big mad about that, ahhhh act 2).

But yeah I like König being big and scary, gotta keep the nasty boy nasty. So I'm gonna write something for executioner König

It started so simply, so plainly, that it could hardly even be called unremarkable. Forgettable, was perhaps the better word. König is sure you must have forgotten it, at least.

Executions are an exact science. If you can call it that. There is a certain way that things must be done to ensure that death has been achieved. Rule one: No drinking on the job, not after last time. Rule two: Always aim for the center of the neck, severing the spinal column ensure the pain doesn't last past what is needed. Rule three: Do not hesitate, self explanatory. Rule four: There will always be a lot of blood, it's best to get out of the way quickly once the ax has hit its mark.

König had been washing his hands of said blood in one of the water spouts around town, when he first saw you. Your eyes wide with fear at the sight of him. You looked like the sunset, something painted by the hands of God himself, so soft and radiant as you turned and fled. He looked after you a moment longer than it took you to disappear around the corner before going back to his grim work. He stripped off his mask to rinse the blood from that as well.

This was treated with wax, the blood and water sliding from it much easier than it did his calloused hands. He could never get all the blood off on his first attempt. Maybe he should wear gloves, but he could never feel the ax as well and leather stained. He ran one short fingernail under another to clean the congealing blood out and stopped. König turned to look down at you, your hands clasped together tightly, your eyes still sparkling with fright.

You held your hand out to him, and he tilt his head to look down at it curiously. The familiar scent and off-white color of soap, just a little piece of it resting on your palm. He was careful taking it from you, shaking the water off his hand before plucking it from your palm. Despite his best efforts to prevent you the displeasure a small puddle of red tinged water formed where the soap previously sat.

"Thank you," He mumbled, turning back to his work so he didn't have to see you wipe your hand off.

"I'm sorry," You told him, in so unfamiliar a tone he didn't think he'd ever heard one like it. Pity was something he was used to, executioners were often looked on with some form of it, but this- this wasn't pity. He turned to ask what you were sorry for, but you were already gone. Quick on your feet. Like a little rabbit.

You're jumpy like a rabbit too. Cute. Actually that part might be on him. You may have forgotten your kindness --did you forget? he hopes you didn't-- but König certainly didn't. He's keeping an eye on you. Moving unseen isn't exactly König's strong suit, but he can do it with the right motivation. Motivation like following you around town. He just wants to see you. Wants to see you smile and laugh and hear your sweet voice. Wants to see you interact with normal people without fear in your eyes.

He has to be careful though, the last few times you noticed him you tensed up. Breath held and hands clenched like that might prevent him from seeing you. Sweet scared little thing. Was it the blood on his hands that scared you? The violence he enacted? Was it his size, his strength, the heat of his gaze? Do you imagine his hands on your soft skin like he does?

Well, maybe not like he does. Your imagination is likely less... appreciative than his, more violent. Too bad.

That's exactly why he has to steal these glimpses of you. He doesn't want to frighten you, although you are beautiful even when you look on his in fear. You're so much more without him. To think music could ever sound as sweet as your laughter, that the sun could ever shine as bright as your smile. He tips his head to watch you, a wonder of divine creation, terribly kind in your every movement.

You crouch to help an older woman pick up a basket of heavy produce, wave off her thanks with a smile and settle the goods on a nearby stall. You pull a child out of the way of a cart, and wave at the driver without a speck of malice. Your kindness is rewarded in turn, an extra few apples for your coin, a warm slice of fresh bread for your walk, people stop you to chat with friendly smiles and kind words.

And yet. And yet he never sees you with anyone. Never sees you walking arm in arm with a friend or a lover, even a parent. You're alone in your crowd of kind acquaintances.

He can't follow you when you leave town. There aren't enough places to hide, not enough corners to stay shadowed behind. That doesn't stop him from watching you as you walk down the road. You don't go far, just far enough to find a comfortable place on the stone wall lining one side of the dirt path. You settle your shopping basket on the ground beside your feet and finally look back at him.

König's breath seizes in his chest. You're still so tense as you stare at him, as you unclench one of your tight fists and pat the wall next to you. He glances behind him to see if there's perhaps a friend of yours he'd missed. No, when he looks back you're still staring just as fiercely determined at him as you had been.

He's cautious with his approach, nervous as the way your eyes track his, your head tipping to accommodate his height the closer he gets. Until he's stood in front of you, your wide eyes still blinking up at him. You pat the wall again, wordlessly asking for his company.

"Are you hungry?" You ask when before he's barely sat down. König pauses, watches you bend to pull an apple from your basket. "You've been following me all day, you must be." You pull a knife from your pocket to slice the fruit and König holds out his hand.

"Let me," He tells you. You hesitate, staring at his -clean, he swears they're clean, he'll never dirty yours again- hands. You settle the apple in his rough palm and offer him the knife. König shakes his head, and grips the apple between his hands, twisting it sharply to break it neatly in half. He offers you one.

"Thank you," You offer him half of a smile, take the offered half and bite into it. Clean enough to touch your lips, König thinks. Or maybe you just don't care about the stains. "It's lovely out isn't it?" You make quiet conversation.

"You are," He breathes, and you bite your lip, your smile blossoming around your best intentions to stop it.

Maybe you were alone for him, to give him the space to get close to you. A rabbit baiting the big bad wolf.

#Spec is that you #könig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #executioner!König #medieval au #Reader absolutely scared shitless of König: I gotta be nice to this guy so he doesn't kill me #König delusional: they're in love with me #cod x reader #x reader #könig mw2

[braimin]

More nesting Sanji? Perhaps?

Of course dearest ! But thinking about nesting Sanji now has me thinking about omega!Sanji in general lol✨

When Sanji first joined the crew he did tell them he was an omega but he was very adamant that he wasn't one of 'those' omegas (he's a total pick me who doesn't wanna seem like other omegas lol) who were clingy or needed a pack nest and he definitely did not need anyone during a heat. He tries to keep himself away from the rest of the crew out of fear for a while because he's not sure how they treat omegas and he doesn't want to show any weakness.

Luffy fully intends to force Sanji into their pack regardless of what kind of omega he says he is, but he refuses to get into their pack nest for like the first few months. Sanji just can't bring himself to get close to them, he's never had a healthy pack dynamic before. His mom and Zeff gave him a lot of parental comfort but he's never been around people his age who engage in good pack behavior. He'll hiss when one of the boys tries to scent him and even with Nami he avoids pack behavior. Everyone is a little sad about it, but they know he'll come around eventually so they let him do his thing until he gets comfortable.

But the problem is, Sanji doesn't know how to do that. So instead of slowly integrating himself into the pack, he starts doing the normal omega stuff close by them while avoiding eye contact. He refuses to put his scent on anyone and he'd rather die than let one of them scent him, so he starts stealing little things they use often so he can have their smell. Usopp is the first to notice because his bag keeps going missing and then he'll find it in the kitchen. Luffy and Zoro never really notice because they wear the same thing for like six days in a row so Sanji can sneak into their laundry and take one of the few items of clothing they own and if anyone asks then he can say he's just taking it to clean it. Nami does get a little weirded out that her hair ties and headbands go missing but her and Usopp figure out who the culprit is pretty quickly and it's honestly too cute to tell him to stop.

It gets out of hand after a while though. He's too scared to reach out to them, so he goes from borrowing their stuff for a few hours to snatching things permanently. He builds his own little nest separately from them with all their stuff. Nami and Usopp aren't really sure how to broach the subject until Luffy finally realizes someone's been steeling his clothes. He asks really loudly during lunch and Zoro is like 'Hey wait a minute, I think I'm missing clothes too. When they look over to a completely silent, beet red Sanji, they also figure out what's happening. Luffy doesn't mind, he happily tells Sanji he's glad that he feels comfortable with their scents now, but that Sanji should just go to their nest if he wants to smell them. But going into that nest means he's apart of their pack so he refuses. He returns everyone's stuff after they finish eating; and Luffy and Usopp feel really bad for making him feel like he has to do that. So they get together and come up with an idea.

They make a smaller, identical nest across the room from the pack one and the offer it to Sanji. Who shuts it down as soon as he sees it, this feels worse than taking their stuff. It feels like they're doing out of pity and the fact that it's away from their nest makes him feel like they don't actually want him. Even though he knows that's not true. The smaller nest stays there though, none of the pack takes their stuff back. And after a week, they notice that slowly all that stuff disappears. No one makes a comment on it, but after they feel like the scents have worn off from that stuff, they put out a new pile of stuff with fresh scents. That one disappears way faster than the last.

It goes on like that for a little while longer. The crew has no idea where Sanji's little nest is, they don't look for it, but they have a suspicion it's somewhere in the kitchen or in a storage room below. When Chopper joins their crew everyone notices that he'll go missing for a few hours, and then come back holding something sweet and is covered in Sanji's scent. Everyone gets low key jealous, because he's only known Sanji for a few weeks and they've known him for months, how come Chopper is the only one that gets to see his nest?

It's probably not until a little bit after Alabasta that Sanji finally gets the courage to join in on pack stuff. He doesn't saying anything though. Just at some point when he's the only one on the ship on watch he goes and rearranges the whole pack nest and takes a nap in it. When everyone gets back they notice how strong his scent is in it and they accept that as his way of saying he's ready. So then Luffy goes and snatches him up and smothers him until he smells like his captain.

After he starts regularly joining the pack and helping with nesting everyone realizes that in typical omega fashion, he's really good at organizing their nest and since he also does their laundry, they appoint him as the main nest maker. It's a job he takes very seriously. He makes rules for the nest and everything. Most of it is hygiene because his boys are gross; so no shoes in the nest (Zoro), no bringing mechanical grease into it (Usopp), and no eating in it (Luffy).

They also discover that he's a liar and is like other omegas; meaning he's actually super clingy and is very particular about his pack nest. If anyone takes something from it they have to put something in to replace it because if there isn't enough of someone's smell in it Sanji will have a breakdown. All new blankets and pillows bought for it must be approved by him because if you put a pillow in there and it doesn't have the right texture you're going to be listening to a thirty minute rant/lecture on what is and isn't okay to put in the nest.

He is even more particular about his personal and heat nests. When Zoro gets in he isn't allowed to go anywhere unless Sanji has told him it's okay. Usually Sanji will make him sit and then direct him around like a doll and then once he's in the right place, Zoro is not allowed to move for the nest four hours.

And he has very specific pieces of clothing he needs from the crew when he goes into heat. He has to argue with Usopp every time for his bandanna. Luffy tries to offer him a new thing every heat because he thinks Sanji will get bored of the same vest and Sanji has to tell him that no, he's not tired of it. And actually, if you don't hand that over right now, I'm going to kick your ass into the ocean.

His heat nests are really small and in the tiniest storage closet that's the farthest away from everyone. Even after he feels comfortable enough to let Zoro in, he still feels too vulnerable to be around anyone else. It makes Zoro super protective of him, he growls at everyone and scents everything so heavily you can barely smell the other scents in the nest. Sanji likes that he's wants to protect him, it makes him feel okay with being weak since he knows Zoro's right there. But he hates that his scent is clogging up the nest, so they usually fight about and Zoro has to settle for scenting the door way right outside so it doesn't conflict with the smells in his nest.

#zosan #sanji #zoro #one piece #omegaverse #omega!sanji #i feel like i said nest too many times lol

[pix3lplays]

I've seen Drunk Ratio being portrayed as a goofball but what about a weepy and sad drunk Ratio?

After having one to many drinks, the man starts talking about how much he hates himself and how, no matter how intelligent he is, he'll never be good enough for the Genius Society. After letting out a humourless laugh, he starts silently weeping. But he immediately wipes his tears away when you walk in, concerned.

After cleaning up the kitchen, you drag Veritas to the bathroom and, after making sure he's no longer feeling sick, bathe him and dress him in comfortable clothes.

As you get ready for bed, he asks you if his existence matters. If all his hard work matters. Suddenly, he felt like throwing up again, not because of the alcohol but because of the amount of coffee he drank while working tirelessly for hours and hours on end.

Gently, you caress his face and tell him "Even if an Aeon or the Genius Society won't gaze upon you with favor, I'll always know that you work harder than anyone else, Veritas. You're someone who refuses to let anyone deter you from your goals. You want to see people become the best versions of themselves without relying on geniuses. Everything that makes you you are why I chose you, my love. You're handsome, intelligent, and hard-working, no doubt you'll achieve your goals, no matter how impossible they may seem. You're more precious to me than any crystal and gemstone in the universe. "

Though your little speech was short, it, along with your smile, made Veritas' eyes fill with tears of joy and his heart swell with love. You were really too good for him. Of course, just to save face, he decides to tease you a bit.

"For your information, crystals and gemstones are completely different things. Gemstones are crude and rare pieces of minerals, organic matter, and rock stones that are excavated, cut, and polished to perfection for use in jewelry production. In contrast, crystals are pure substances composed of atoms, molecules, or ions arranged in three-dimensional lattices." He says without fail and a barely concealed smirk.

"Hey! I was comforting you, Mister!" You say, playfully smacking him while pouting.

It then turns into you two playfully insulting each other before your insults turn to joyous laughter. As you lay in the comfort of each other's arms, Veritas felt like he had the best sleep in his entire life.

INSECURE DR. RATIO IS SOOOO IMPORTANT TO ME ANON, but the man HIDES it, he HIDES it so well. Because let’s be real. Everyone wonders why a man like him isn’t in the Genius Society. HE wonders why he isn’t in the Genius Society. After all his work, all his achievements…he’s just…not good enough??

But he’d never OPENLY admit he considers himself a failure of sorts. But a few too many drinks and suddenly the true feelings come out.

You know he doesn’t want your pity. But you just speak your mind.

Maybe it makes him feel a little bit better, but, he can’t let you know you have such a strong effect on him so…teasing it is.

Bratty man, I love him.

You know him well enough though. He’s just protecting himself. Be easy on him and…maybe eventually he’ll be able to open up to you completely, no alcohol required.

#drinking #tw drinking #cw drinking #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dr Ratio #Dr Ratio x reader #Hsr Dr Ratio x reader #honkai star rail Dr Ratio x reader

[sokka-simp]

Violent

Bakugo x reader

inspired by Violent by carolesdaughter

A/N: not me listening to this song on repeat for like 4 hours 🤠

Updated A/N: This was in my drafts from like 3 years ago or something and I'm bored rn so I decided to finish it even though it's shitty..

Warnings: cussing, divorce

Don’t make me run away out the back door

Katsuki constantly came home late or missed dates because of hero work. Which is ok, you know he loves his job and you’re going to support him in every way you can. But today was different, today was your first anniversary of being married. He swore that he would come home this time, that he already told people at his agency to have a different hero take over his patrol. But he obviously didn’t.

Because here you sat, alone, in the restaurant that Katsuki wanted to go to. Everyone in the fancy restaurant stared at you with pity or intrigued looks as if your life was a show. Your fingers dug into your other hand, desperately trying to cease the threatening tears as you got stood up—by your husband—again. You couldn’t do this anymore. This was the only time you thought Katsu was finally going to show up; he was finally going to put you first. You thought you could handle his absence but you just can’t. Not anymore. Your ever-growing tears blurred the soft lights from the diamond chandeliers above your head; your body trembled slightly, causing the intricately carved chair you were sitting on to shake on the polished, mahogany floor.

“Um, excuse me. Are you ok? Do you need anything?” A soft hand tapped your shoulder, and you turned to your waiter.

Your hand came up and wiped at your eyes before you smiled sadly up at her and shaking your head no. You mumbled out a ‘one minute’ before taking out your card and giving it to her, going to pay for your two full glasses of wine. Eyes pointed forward as you waited, you stared at the empty chair, a sight you were more used to than not. And then you realized something: Katsuki doesn’t love you, not the way you love him; Not enough to make you feel happy.

I want my clothes back

When Katsuki finally got home you were already undressed and lying on the couch. Sleeping next to Katsuki after everything he had consistently put you through seemed too hard; pretending everything was ok seemed too hard so you decided you'd demote yourself to the living room. You heard him when he got home since the tears hadn't been able to send you to sleep like usual. The realization tonight had caused pain unlike the other nights he had shown you he didn't care. Tonight the emptiness and anger kept you awake despite your best attempts to fall asleep. Katsuki moved from the front door and through the kitchen, then through the living room past you, and to the bedroom. He didn't bother to stop and check on you, he didn't bother to give a half-hearted apology like usual, he didn't bother to do anything. He doesn't care; he doesn't love you. That was it: you got up and grabbed your keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before moving towards the door and slipping your shoes on. You were being as loud as possible in hopes--unlikely as it would be--that Katsuki would come out and try to stop you. His wife, someone who loves him, someone who cooks for him and washes his hero suits, someone who cleans for him since he doesn't have enough time with all his work. But none of that truly matters to him and you were shown that tonight. He didn't come out, didn't even yell out a "y/n," he just ignored it. So you kept going; you grabbed your coat, and shed off Katsuki's hoodie, not wanting anything to do with him at the moment, and left your shared apartment.

You say you miss me, so then I drive back to you

It had been a few weeks since you had left the apartment. Katsuki had tried to get in touch the first few days but it was a pointless endeavor. You ignored him and had Mina stop him from visiting you at her house. It wasn't something you could handle; it wasn't something you could deal with after a year of pleading for effort and being ignored again and again. However, after a week or so you caved; he was your husband; 'your' Katsuki. You couldn't stay away for too long, which is why you stayed so long in the first place. The texts were full of promises: "I love you, I had to cover someone else's shift. I promise," "I'll do better, I promise," "It's the last time, I promise." They weren't working, you knew they weren't sincere. But after a while, you were broken down, and when he sent his last text you knew hoped it could change: "I miss you, y/n, please come home."

Don’t make me get violent

The first week or so you were back Katsuki showered you in kisses, cuddles, gifts, whatever you could name. But it quickly went away. It quickly turned back into "I have work," "I'll male it next time," "I told you our date wasn't confirmed, I have work and there's nothing I can do about it." After all his promises you were naive enough to believe him, but you wouldn't sit back and beg anymore. When he got home after another cancelled date you knew it was over.

"Katsuki, I can't do this anymore," you say solemnly "You promised it would be different, but this past year you've never changed. You leave me to sit and wait. To beg for your attention. I waited for hours on our fucking anniversary just for you not to show."

"I-" Katsuki started but you cut him off.

"No! You don't get to talk. I'm tired of your half-assed apologies, I'm tired of your little "I'll be better"s! It's not fair. And I'm done." You yell before taking a moment to calm your breathing. "We're done." You finish.

Katsuki looks shocked, annoyed even, but he doesn't look hurt. He doesn't look sad, remorseful, or even remotely upset. He just squares his jaw and looks at you. "We're done?" His voice is steady and it's obvious he doesn't care, he's just tired of this conversation after a long day of work.

"Yes" you mumble, shocked by his reaction and hurt by how obvious it is he doesn't care.

"I want my ring back" Katsuki grunts out, holding his hand out.

You pause in absolute disbelief and take it off before walking out. Katsuki doesn't deserve a reaction anymore.

You don’t listen anyways, I’ll be quiet

I don’t really feel like fighting

A/N: This is genuinely bad but I don't care, I just got bored and wanted to write. I also didn't proof read just a heads up.

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader angst #mha angst #mha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katuski #my hero academia

[auroreliis]

Hiya,can you please write a fic for yandere batfam with a teen reader they ‘adopted’ who’s really mean to all of them and tries to ignore them all together but the second a bug/animal is coming near them they cling to whoevers nearest? Thank you💕

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're very mean, unless there is a spider to kill.

CW: no warnings

(not edited or proofread)

It was early in the morning when a scream echoed through the manor. The residents immediately recognised the voice and after figuring out it belonged to you, they rushed towards the source.

Tim had dropped everything he was doing just to be your knight in shining armour. He had been watching you through the cameras in the manor and knew you would need saving. It just so happens that he had found a few bugs in his free time. They looked intimidating enough, so he brought them back to the manor. Of course, he would never tell you that. He obviously knew everything about you, that includes your fear of insects and spiders. When he had first discovered it, he was more than ready to use your fear against you. He would never harm you, of course, but a little fear can work wonders.

His plan was for him to come up to you, kill the bug, lift you off the kitchen island and carry you to his room, where you would thank him with cuddles. That was his plan, at least. And he was so excited about it, too.

So you can imagine how dumbfounded he was when he entered the kitchen only to find Jason, crouching with a frying pan in his hand, hitting the same spot on the floor over and over again. "What are you doing?", he spoke, disbelief and irritation evident in his tone. "Just doing my little sibling a favour", Jason said, not turning to Tim.

"Again. Hit it again. You have to make sure it's dead", you spoke, your voice shaking. "Trust me, I know dead when I see it, and I say this pancake of a bug is definitely dead", Jason spoke, attempting to ease your nerves.

Tim was disappointed that he wasn't fast enough to save you.

He just stood there, zoning out.

After delivering a few more hits to the unrecognisable spot on the floor, Jason turned to you and decided it was enough. "Can you carry me?" Your sudden question suprised him. He froze for a second before composing himself. "Yeah. Sure. Why though?", he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. "I saw a centipede earlier, but I lost it. I don't want it to crawl up my leg. Please." Your request made him snicker, although he obviously agreed. Who wouldn't?

Tim watched in agony as Jason carried you around the house bridal style. That was supposed to be him. He planned it all out. He made all the preparations. Why was Jason getting the prize? He went to his room with a pitiful expression.

It was around three in the morning when Tim re-entered the kitchen. He was still working, but he also couldn't focus. He almost had the chance to make you like him and Jason ruined it. He walked around the large kitchen island you were standing on earlier that day, when he suddenly stepped on something. It was quite large and after a few moments, it started buzzing. Tim tried his best not to scream or wake anyone as he sprinted back to his room.

A few people had learned very important things that day.

You learned to spend more time in Jasons room, because it was so clean that no bugs could possibly be in there.

Jason learned to start cleaning his room twice a day, so you would feel safe, knowing there were no bugs in there.

Dick learned that he should spend more time at the manor, in order to see cute scenes, like you clinging to Jason.

And Tim learned to never walk around the manor barefoot again.

#dick grayson #yandere dick grayson #jason todd #yandere jason todd #tim drake #yandere tim drake #batfam #yandere batfam #platonic batfam #platonic yandere #dc comics #x reader

[wordstome]

now that we don't talk

I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost And what it cost Now that we don't talk

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization

2.2k words

tw: none

I swear to God one day I'll write something that doesn't involve that big hooded freak. But today is not that day.

Shoutout to loganlermanstanaccount here on Tumblr, who I won't tag. The bullet point headcanons with written parts interspersed format is from their excellent college roommate Miguel O'Hara post, which became their fic Rigor Mortis. I highly recommend both!

Also, excuse the absolutely butchered military content. I'm sure none of this is how it works in real life, but alas, this is fanfiction, not a research paper. Reader serves a Laswell-like role, but I refrained from labeling her as CIA even though I do call her a station chief. For the purposes of this fic, she's the voice in the operatives' ear during ops. We're playing a bit fast and loose with the terminology here.

You’re a highly skilled intelligence agent and operative handler.

You’ve spent most of your life dedicated to your career: moving through the ranks, proving yourself, refusing to let anything stand in the way of your ambitions.

You’ve done some things you aren’t proud of, but always for the right reason. Or the reason that made the most cold, logical sense. Even when your heart tells you otherwise. Nobody in this line of work has clean hands, after all.

You’ve always done what needs to be done. For everyone’s best interest.

Today marks the first day of your collaboration with a PMC called KorTac. You’re hunting down a homegrown cult turned out-of-control terrorist cell.

You haven’t had much experience working with mercenaries, but in terms of hardened war criminals, KorTac’s people are quite well mannered.

Not that you had expected them to be rude and discourteous, but, well. You are an outsider. They haven’t necessarily embraced you, but their reception was nice enough.

You’ve got a meeting with their commander, but you can’t quite find the room you’re supposed to be meeting in. Not a great first impression to make, but luckily, someone takes pity on you.

He introduces himself. Korean. Callsign Horangi.

“You’ll get used to the layout of the base,” he says as you follow him through winding hallways.

“I hope so,” you reply. “I’ll be here for a while." You study the walls, the signs and numbers on the doors, trying your best to memorize everything.

"Do you know your commander well?" you ask. You're not the world's biggest fan of small talk, but you may as well know what you're walking into.

"König? Yeah, we've been close ever since he joined up." Horangi says, leading you into a long hallway. "He's a good guy. A little intense, but don't let that get to you. He's just getting the job done."

"We'll get along if he's competent." You can respect a man who forgoes pleasantries for making sure the shit gets shoveled.

"You don't have to worry about that." Horangi stops and holds the door open for you. "After you."

You study him for just a moment before entering the room. He's curt and to the point. Not bad-looking, either. Hopefully you'll get more chances to—

Your heart nearly stops.

KorTac's commander is facing away from the doorway, shuffling through some papers by the looks of it. But you would know him from any angle. The set of his shoulders, the way his stance is at ease but never truly relaxed, the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck.

You have to force yourself to step into the room. And when you do, he turns around.

You're vaguely aware of Horangi stepping around you to get into the room, but that's happening somewhere far away from the headspace you occupy right now. By the way König's eyes widen as they meet yours, he's in the same place too.

He hasn't aged so much as he's gotten more tired. He never did sleep enough, but now he looks like he hasn't gotten a sound night's rest in a long time. He's put-together, but there's a haggardness to him that probably wouldn't be noticeable to anybody but you. Someone who knew him when he was younger, and in the prime of his life. Someone who used to know every scar on his body, every crease of his brow, and now hasn't seen him in more than a decade.

The man who broke your heart stands on the other end of the room, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost.

The two of you stand there for a while before Horangi's voice shakes you back to reality. "Brought the station chief, sir."

"I...see." König—you suppose that's what he calls himself nowadays, the arrogant prick—clears his throat. "Thank you, Hong-jin."

"No problem." Horangi takes a seat. "The others will be in soon."

Horangi seems like a perceptive enough guy. Can he tell that the room feels several degrees colder? You pull a chair out, the furthest one from König's position possible, and ignore the hurt that briefly flashes across his face as you sit down.

The meeting goes well. It's just an opportunity for you to formally introduce yourself to the KorTac operators you'll primarily be working with for the next few months.

You can tell they're a close knit group by the easy way they interact with each other: they've worked together for a while.

König, too, is part of them, which must be how they pick up on the chilly dynamic between the two of you. Some of them are just puzzled. For most of them, it raises their hackles.

It doesn't matter to you. You can barely focus on getting through the meeting without feeling like you're going to faint.

It's absurd. You're not some delicate Regency-era lady. You're a hardened military officer. But it makes no difference.

It doesn't matter how long it's been, it seems. He's still the only one who can make you feel like this.

You can't get out of there fast enough after the meeting has concluded. Not only are the others shooting you suspicious looks, but you've spent too long in his presence. Any longer, and you don't know how you're going to keep your composure.

But you can't escape him. Of course not. Why did you ever think otherwise? You hear him call for you, and you walk faster. But it's futile.

This hallway is smaller, narrower, less open. Nobody's around to watch when he slams you against the wall to stop your hasty retreat. Nobody's around to see the way you sway in his hold, overwhelmed by the smell of him all around you. You're bathed in it, the overpowering presence of him.

"We need to talk." he demands.

"We just did. Meeting's over," you shoot back, making a paltry attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. He loosens his hold on you, but you're still trapped between him and the wall. No exit.

"I didn't plan this, in case you're wondering."

"That much was obvious." He's let his hair grow out longer, you notice at the most inopportune time possible. It suits him, you think.

He sighs in frustration. "If we're going to work together, we have to be civil."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't expose how much of a scoundrel you are in front of your precious squad," you bite.

You feel a twinge of smug satisfaction as regret settles into his expression. Too little, too late.

"I don't want it to be like this, either," he murmurs. "Ignoring and avoiding each other."

"You don't get to tell me how to act."

"You're right. But it's been a long time. Can't we try to get along? Not for my sake, but...yours."

"Well that's not condescending at all."

"That's not what I meant. I know my team. If you're walking around resenting me openly like that, they won't trust you. And they need to, if you're working with us."

He's right, and you know it. But there's that deep instinct inside you, older than your bloodline, waking up after a long slumber. It wants him, snapping at the bit to give into him and do whatever he asks of you. The urge will consume you if you don't fight it every step of the way.

You glare up at him, hoping you come off as brimming with resentment instead of desire. "As long as you and your team stay professional, I can too."

He's not satisfied with that answer, but it's all you're going to give him.

"Fine." He steps away from you, and you pour all your willpower into commanding your body to stay still. To not chase after his closeness. You sway on the spot, dizzy with his scent after having gone so long without it.

"This hallway is a dead end, by the way."

You try, you really do. But it's hard to be around him without feeling the urge to touch him, to press yourself against him and inhale him like the most destructive drug possible.

Your only recourse is to stay as physically far away from him as possible.

You do your best to ingratiate yourself with the other operators. You and Calisto are fast friends: she's got a breezy confidence to her that's quite refreshing. It also doesn't hurt that you speak French, as well. There's a bit of kinship felt whenever the two of you are holding a conversation none of the others can understand.

Horangi's a different story, though. The initial courtesy he showed you is a bit more clipped, now that it's clear something is up between you and König.

You can't believe you missed it the first time, the way König's smell is all over him. It really has been too long.

The two of them must be pretty close. You give up trying not to fixate on the idea.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop on them, but you were curious. Even more curious when you hear your name mentioned.

"It's pretty clear you and Eden know each other. None of us are stupid."

You freeze in your tracks. The door is closed, but you can hear Horangi's voice, loud and clear in the room behind it.

"It's not relevant. She's just here to do a job."

"I think it's pretty relevant that she gets up and leaves whenever you enter a room, regardless of what she's doing. She can't get away from you fast enough."

You give a surreptitious look at your surroundings, then lean down slightly, pressing your ear to the door.

"You're not going to give this up, are you?"

"Hell fucking no."

You hear König sigh. "Fine. We knew each other before I joined KorTac. Back when I was in the Jagdkommando."

Do you want to hear this? Your painful history, relayed to a near stranger? Horangi's not a stranger to him, that's for sure.

"And?"

"We were...involved."

"You and a beta? Never took you for the type."

"Well, neither did I. But she was...special. Smart, pretty, deadeye with a knife. Wouldn't give me the time of day, of course. I was obsessed with her."

"Naturally."

"Give me a fucking break, okay?"

"Can't wait to hear how this ended."

"Not...great. I was a total dick."

You can say that again, you think.

"I was young. Real dumbass who thought he was hot shit."

"You still aren't."

"Shut the fuck up." Something twinges inside you at the hearty laughter the two of them share. You missed that laugh.

"Despite everything, it was the most stable relationship I've ever been in. We looked out for each other. She knew me better than some of my family does."

"How did you fuck that up, then?"

"I got too comfortable. Started thinking I could do better. God, what a fucking idiot I was. I loved her like crazy, but I didn't realize how good I had it until it was gone."

"She left you?"

"No. I was the one who ended things. In the worst way possible, too. I told her the relationship wasn't going to go anywhere, that we were never going to be a serious thing."

"Ouch. Why not?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. You remember that night, like a shard of glass buried in your chest. As hard as you tried to forget, you'll never forget the way you felt. Like the world was ending.

You'll never forget the decision you had to make.

"I told her I couldn't see myself with a beta long-term."

"...that's fucked up."

"I know. I know. I was too caught up in that shitty macho alpha mindset. I was fucking ravenous back then, and I thought only an omega could give me what I needed."

"I get it now. If I were her, I would have quit on the spot seeing you in that meeting room."

"Yeah. She's a better person than I can ever imagine being."

Well. It's nice to know he regrets it, you think. Not that it does you much good now. Quiet as a mouse, you make a quick exit before you can get caught.

You make it back to the the room you've been assigned to. They were nice enough to give you your own private quarters, something you deeply appreciate when you need to be alone with your own thoughts. Like right now.

It's a strange feeling, to sort of get closure like this. Not at the end, but at the beginning of something new. You still have to see each other. Does it help that you know how he feels? Maybe, but it doesn't ease your own guilt. In fact, it makes it worse.

You're not mad at him for telling Horangi. You're glad he did, actually. There are some secrets that cause more harm to keep than not.

You open a drawer and pull out the pill bottle, hidden underneath your other possessions, and stare at the label.

WARNING - SUPPRESSANTS. NOT TO BE USED BY ALPHAS. ONLY CONSUME UNDER PHYSICIAN SUPERVISION.

You would know.

BOOM! There you have it. (In case it wasn't clear, the suppressants are for omegas.)

@sprout-fics's omegaverse 141 headcanons series inspired me to write something based off the idea of an omega disguising themselves as a beta in the military. Please check out her series, it's great.

I was really into exploring how omegaverse dynamics can make complicated relationships even messier. I did consider writing this story without the omegaverse, but I think now it's kind of an essential element. (I also just. Want them to have crazy nasty omegaverse sex. Sue me) I can't picture König ever breaking up with someone he deeply loved and was obsessed with, unless he had a reason like that. Still not a great reason, but a little bit understandable. Eden being a disguised omega also adds a bit of spice to the exes-to-lovers arc, too: she could have just come out and told him she's not actually a beta, but she chose not to for the sake of her career. Oof. Ruthless judgement calls were made on both sides.

I put this out because this idea had me in a STRANGLEHOLD, and I just had to get it out before I burst. Hopefully my writing's still up to par 😅 As for Kingdom Come, part iii may take a little while longer because a lot is going to happen in it, so I hope this can tide you guys over until then.

As usual, comments and feedback are always appreciated! I would love to talk about this au more. And again, if you'd like to be tagged, drop a reply. And if you're in the taglist and would like to be removed/only tagged for Kingdom Come, please let me know!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria

#könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #fic: now that we don't talk

[idiaa-shroxd]

while working on reqs. here’s a little brainrot bubble. I think it’s be funny if instead of us getting Isekai’d the twenty two boys at entrance ceremony find themselves Isekai’d into your “mysterious” house that you inherited from a grandparent after you touch a mirror that had a cloth covering. Imagine teaching them about technology and try to convince these people to stay sane while in each other’s faces for almost twenty four hours a day, especially since some of them just met and got sorted into dorms. I just had the thought of do these men have airplanes in their world? and it kind of evolved to this.

Like Diasomnia on edge at first with Silver and Sebek trying to guard Malleus as Lilia listens to you and your explanation deeming you no threat. Malleus is simply happy he was invited or included with everyone when they were teleported. In Savanaclaw they all still have their beastmen features so you’re pleading with this stranger to not leave and go outside and cause trouble and this lion man is like… if you insist, while being smug. Totally acts like he is pitiful if you ask for help because he is stuck indoors. Floyd is having the time of his life, he will gnaw on furniture, as Jade is a bit more grounded but follow’s Azul’s lead as he tries to convince you to turn your house into a business as you deny.

Ignihyde has Idia and his brother and you’re thinking what a cute robot before he shoots a laser at a bug and you think that is enough for today. You eventually let all the boys live in your grandpa’s old home since it were rather large.. and magic is convenient. They can easily clean up the place and some are eager to learn about your world. You went from a normal life alone to living a life with a whole lot of boys.

Some of them do chores, like Trey, Jade, Jamil, who are the main chefs, while others such as Ruggie and Rook handle the laundry. Azul, Jade and Floyd handle your budgeting and monthly finances. You are not sure how but the money they give as “rent” increases per month. Vil and Idia have picked up youtube and streaming respectively, Idia being a vtuber and Vil having a channel that does a variety of content. Both are surprisingly popular. Vil also helps you renovate the interior design and Idia + Ortho handle all the machines and wifi. Some do odd jobs on occasion around the place like Ace, Epel, Lilia, some do hard lifting and collecting firewood like Jack and Sebek. Others such as Riddle and Cater can set the table, sweep up and check in on you. Some are freeloaders such as Leona, Malleus, and Kalim.

You figured things would be dysfunctional at first since your newfound boys weren’t allowed outside of your house, in fact are physically incapable of leaving your property, but they all managed to fit right in snuggly. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine just how hard life would be without them. You start working from home as your grandpa’s business is also passed down to you, even though you are a grossly underqualified child- claiming to be told old to keep up as he leaves to traveling the world after meeting the boys once. He doesn’t freak out and just go “:P forgot to tell you.”

You find their magic interesting. You also find out your grandpa has a lot of secrets. He can’t return them (much to their disappoint but later they could not care less they won’t return) but he can at least help out with some ancient books passed down about the great seven themselves, helping the Octatrio stay in human form. You also find some of them demanding, Floyd and Kalim almost always clinging to your arms as you try to work.

Sometimes you wake up to arguments, a chair may be flying, literally. Another time you awoke to a crying grey cat with ears of fire, trying to scratch at you. Hearing your scream Riddle and Azul came to your rescue, but you quickly told them not to be mean to a kitty, keeping him and naming him Grim.. seems like your home has gotten a new member, again.

Idia seems much more willing to leave his room when you mention getting a cat. Ace looks slight annoyed that you get to keep a fire producing cat but he could not keep a bear that Rook found? You were completely unfair. Meanwhile Riddle is ready to collar the cat for existing because he found a tart of his being eaten by the cat. You barely contained his rage, everyone lived another day.

Overall a chaotic household you now have.

a fun concept to play with? I’m a fan of the “inherits some mysterious magic object” trope and wanted to toy around with it a bit. i also had thoughts like my yuu would 100% be nicer to them than they are to us and give them a place to actually stay than kicking them to the curb like a certain Ramshackle building.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

#questions of styx. #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

[loveysloveclub]

dress - luca fantilli

in which, you’ve always been in love with your best friend, but he’s never felt the same.

you couldn't remember life before loving luca fantilli. he had been your best friend before you liked him, but even then, you loved him. the two of you grew up together and did everything together, so it was no surprise to anyone when you joined him and his little brother, adam, in moving to michigan for college.

your crush on the boy, while mind numbingly severe, was painfully kept a secret. you watched girlfriends and flings come and go, even having a few boyfriends yourself (though they never lasted long). you sat idly by for the majority of your life and watched him fall in and out of love with every girl but you. but even during this, he still made time for you.

your college roommate, a short brunette girl named charlotte, zipped up the zipper of your little black dress. the two of you were getting ready for another college party, one that luca had invited you to. he invited you to all of them, you not having many friends throughout the campus.

"girl, you look gorgeous. fantilli won't know what hit him." charlotte winked before disappearing into the small bathroom the two girls shared. you smiled at her words, but still tugged down at the fabric unsurely. luca would do the same dance he always did, he would greet you once arriving and then after an hour or two of clinging to your side, a nice, pretty girl would catch his attention and you wouldn't see him until the next day.

the college party, being held at the house all the sophomores on the hockey team resided at, was in full swing by the time you showed up. the house was overly crowded, and pushing passed people in the hallways to get to the main part of the house proved to be a mission. your hand clung on for dear life as charlotte guided you through the masses, mumbling small apologies to people you bumped into along the way.

your eyes immediately searched the crowds for luca, but you couldn't seem to find him.

"sofia! charlotte!" your eyes snapped towards dylan duke, who was charging towards you and your roommate with open arms. a small smile tugged at your lips as you laughed, allowing the drunk boy to wrap you both up in a group hug.

"holy drunkeness." charlotte mumbled as she pulled away, a teasing smile rested on her lips. "how you doing, duker?" you asked the clearly intoxicated boy, who spent the next two minutes drunkenly rambling on about how he had never been better.

"where's luca?" you hated how you asked, how you had to know, but dylan paid no mind to it as he responded. "disappeared outside with some girl from msu, total catch. sucks she's interested in luca of all people." dylan snorted before wondering off.

catching your face before you fell, you turned to charlotte, who was looking at you with a pitiful glance, "i'm gonna go get a drink."

you didn't give her a chance to respond before you were shoving through the masses once more, arriving at a table with a bunch of drinks. picking what seemed to be a clean red solo cup, you began to make the strongest drink you knew you could handle, chugging it before making another.

"sof?"

great, the man of the hour.

pretending you didn't hear the fantilli boy, you began making a third drink before a hand stopped you. "what's wrong?'

"nothings wrong." you mumbled as you freed your hand from his grip and turned to leave, but either he didn't get the hint or simply didn't care as he followed you. "i think somethings wrong."

"don't you have somewhere to be? someone to see?" and with that, you lost him in the crowd.

for the rest of the night, you did a good job at pretending to have fun, avoiding luca and getting drunk. you were a light weight, so it didn't take much for you to be to the point where you were stumbling out the back door, into the quietness of the night.

only a few people lingered outside, but none even spared a glance at the stumbling girl as she took a seat on a random chair. you watched from afar as people laughed with each other and whispered sweet nothings, a small and alcohol induced smile tugging at your lips.

"i've been looking for you all night." you jumped at the sound of his voice, turning your head to glance at the blonde boy. even though you were mad at him, for reasons you didn't have the right to be angry at him for, your drunken state couldn't help but smile up at him.

"hi lulu."

the boy scoffed, "you're drunk."

"no, i'm having fun."

"no, you're drunk and you've been avoiding me all night."

you let out a groan, rolling your eyes as you angled your head to look at the sky above you. "why are you mad at me?"

this conversation seemed to be a common occurence between you and luca lately, but he got under your skin like no other. especially when there was another girl involved.

"i'm not mad at you."

"yes, you are."

"maybe you're the drunk one, cause i'm perfectly fine." you shot back. you could see him visibly tense, which means he was getting annoyed and you knew you should just apologise and everything would go back to normal. but you were torturing yourself with normal, you were sick of normal.

"i think you forget that i know you. you're my best friend, i know when you're upset."

if he knew you so well, then he should know that you hated that word. 'best friend'. it only reminded you of all the things you wanted but would never be able to have.

sighing once, you glanced away from the boy. "i don't want to be your best friend anymore." slurring your words slightly, you braced yourself for the impact of the rejection you was sure to come. what you didn't expect was for his entire face to drop and for him to begin walking off in the other direction.

noticing your mistake, you jumped to your feet quickly. the suddenness of your movements mixed with the amount of alcohol you had drunken in the passed two hours making your head spin and your feet to trip over one another. catching yourself before you made a bigger fool out of yourself, you called out to luca. "wait!"

the boy stopped in his pace to get away from you, turning to look at you with angry eyes. "that's not what i meant. i-"

here was your chance, but you couldn't get it out.

"i don't want you like a best friend."

the anger in his face was replaced by confusion in an instant and you suddenly felt ill. you wanted to crawl up in a ball and die because either way tonight, you were losing your best friend. he either left thinking you didn't want him in your life or he rejected you and the humiliation would be enough to sever your friendship. your hands shook as you rocked back and forth, anxiety thawed at your insides as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

why was he just standing there? why isn't he saying anything? does he not understand? god, this is humiliat-

"sof?"

and suddenly everything stopped. you glanced up from your feet as he made his way over to you before stopping in front of you.

"i don't want you like a best friend, either."

upon realising what he was referring to, a smile tugged at your lips and a laugh escaped you. "you couldn't have said that like three minutes ago, you scared the shit out of me!" wacking him in the arm, the movement disrupting your still body and sending you stumbling. luca grabbed you by your waist, rolling his eyes playfully. "yeah, let's get you home."

digging your feet into the ground, you glanced up at him, "one more thing."

standing on your tippy toes you connected your lips with his, the boy smiling into the kiss.

seven year old you was currently dying of a heart attack.

#luca fantilli #umich hockey #umich #luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli imagine

[writing-for-marvel]

Every Step of the Way

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: After struggling through the entire week, Steve’s there to comfort you when you need him the most.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: severe depression is depicted, Steve and reader being naked in a shower together but nothing sexual, major hurt comfort vibes

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: this is 1000% self indulgent, I wrote this when I was in a really dark place, struggling to even just get out of bed every day and I needed Stevie there to comfort me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Opening your eyes seems like an effort too great for the amount of energy in your reserves.

Every breath is a heave, as if trying to gasp for air with an anvil sitting on your chest.

The backs of your eyes sting with tears at the thought of needing to get out of bed. You don’t want to face the day, don’t want to be the early bird catching the worm. You want to stay under the covers and sleep, that’s all you have the motivation to do.

Dirty dishes are stacked next to your sink, they’ve been accumulating since early in the week and you’ve just not had the energy after working and making dinner each night to actually wash them yet.

Clothes litter the floor of your bedroom, but you’ve put off going down to the laundry room for the past few days, with each new sunrise promising it’ll be tomorrow you’ll find time to do it, but that tomorrow never comes.

The bathrooms need cleaning, the floor needs vacuuming, surfaces need dusting - you put off doing them last weekend to focus on other household chores, but this weekend has come around and you’re not any more inspired to complete them.

You hear keys rattle in your front door, the sound startling you enough to finally open your eyes, but not sufficiently concerning to warrant leaving your bed. The only person who owned keys to your place was your boyfriend and though you didn’t want him to see the mess you were living in, there wasn’t anything you could do in the two seconds it would take for him to open your door.

As if instinctually he knows you’re still snuggled up in bed, you hear his heavy footsteps striding steadily towards your door.

Bracing for the furious displeasure you have been conditioned to receive from ex partners when they discovered you in a relapse, you pull the covers tighter around yourself as if to shield you from what was about to happen.

“Stevie…” Your voice is soft, vulnerable as he enters the room, but it’s not pity nor annoyance you see in his eyes, which you had been expecting, but instead they are brimming with concern.

“Hey darling.” His honey voice is slow and smooth, soothing the jittery anxiety ricocheting through your mind and chest. “Not feeling too good?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head anyway, clutching the duvet closer to your chin. Steve pulls his shirt over his head, rounds the bed and climbs in next to you.

“C’mere.” His strong arms envelop you and pull you into his strong chest, the weight of them on your back and his musky scent, which now consumes your senses, is the secure reassurance you’ve been needing all week that you’re not completely alone in this brutal world.

He doesn’t ask what’s the matter with you, doesn’t ask why you’ve barely answered his messages all week, why your home is a complete mess or why you’re laying in the dark at noon on a weekend. He doesn’t make you justify your change in behaviour, why you kept him at arm's length, doesn’t scold you for your absence as other people have done in the past. Instead, he kisses your forehead, whispers that you’re safe with him as he gently rubs his hand up and down your back.

He could have easily chastised you for withdrawing into yourself and not seeking help, could have pointed out the state your home was in, or mentioned that you smelled in need of a shower, but he does none of that. Rather, he tells you over and over again that you’re loved, ingraining the notion in your mind so that you won’t ever forget, placing kisses over every inch of your face he can reach while still holding your body close.

The sound of his beating heart lulls you to a peaceful sleep, feeling safe and treasured, and for the first time this week like you don’t have to carry the weight of expectation and hollow desolation all on your own.

* * *

When you wake, the warmth provided by your sturdy boyfriend is missing. Distress fills your chest for a moment, thinking perhaps Steve coming to soothe you to sleep was a figment of your imagination, until you hear the faint sound of movement from the main living area.

With an effort you believe rivals running an entire marathon, you push the sheets off yourself, heave yourself out of bed and trudge into your kitchen, but not before noticing that the clothes that were strewn over your bedroom floor this morning were no longer there.

Once your eyes adjust to the light you notice Steve hunched over your sink, elbows deep in soapy water doing your dishes. Part of you is thankful, you’ve been needing to do them all week and just hadn’t found the energy or motivation. But another part of you, deep in your chest, feels ashamed - you have to rely on your boyfriend, who has a hectic enough life of his own, to do something as simple as washing your dishes. How pathetic.

“Steve, I can do them.” You declare, lumbering over to the counter, feeling somewhat relieved to see there’s only half the number of dirty pots and pans as was there when you left them last night.

“It’s okay darling, I’ve already got my hands wet…”

“I don’t want you doing my dishes for me, Steven.” You don’t know why those particular words leave your mouth, because seeing the dishes you had failed to clean the last few days finally have the grime scrubbed off them alleviates some of the hefty gravity pushing you chest so tight you almost can’t breathe. But it also makes you feel incapable, worthless and weak.

You’re not sure what quality it is in your voice that indicates it, but Steve immediately removes his hands from the bubbly water, dries them quickly on the back of his pants and pulls you into his chest just as tears you didn’t realise were coming start silently streaming down your cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s okay, deep breaths for me baby.” His large hands rub soothing circles around your back as your tears dampen his shirt. You try your best to follow his instruction, slowly take deep breaths and calm the flow of untameable misery pouring out the corners of your eyes, but your throat starts constricting and each new tear running down your cheeks evokes two more.

You just want it to end. You want to be able to function like a regular human being without exhausting all of your energy reserves by simply getting out of bed.

You just want to be normal. Be someone Steve can be proud to call his girl. Not someone who struggles to do the simplest of tasks.

When Steve senses that your flood of emotions isn’t subsiding, he shuffles with you in his arms towards your bathroom, whispering that the warm water of your shower will help refresh you.

He helps lift you onto your bathroom countertop, kissing away the stray tears on your cheeks before turning on the shower. While he tests the temperature of the water with one hand, his other maintains hold on yours - even just the connection to him helps in your attempts to calm yourself down. He’s here for you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

When the temperature is just how you like it, Steve helps you strip off your clothes and directs you under the stream. You let the water wash over your face, taking some of your worries with them, as Steve steps in behind you.

You can’t tell the difference between your own teardrops and drizzle of the shower as you look up at your boyfriend, grateful for the care and tenderness he’s shown you while you’re at your lowest. No one else has stuck around when they’ve seen you like this, but in this moment you feel nothing but pure love.

You place a gentle kiss to a scar on his bare chest and Steve kisses your forehead in return - a silent message to thank him for being there for you, and him to acknowledge that though you’re unable to voice your gratitude at the present moment, he understands it’s there.

Once Steve washes your hair, knowing the steps of your routine perfectly, and the rest of your body, you step out of the shower feeling like the load you’ve been carrying for the past few weeks has been washed off your back.

Steve smiles as he pulls his own shirt over your head, kissing your nose once your head pops through the hole. Now your tears have settled, you can appreciate the affection overflowing in his baby blues, fondness you don’t believe you deserve, but cherish nonetheless.

Forgetting all about the dirty dishes in the cold, soapy sink, Steve directs you back to your bedroom, climbing in after you and pulling you once again into his strapping chest.

“Darling, you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you, and I love you, you don’t ever have to face this by yourself again.” Steve speaks softly into your hairline, the intent and conviction in his voice enough to drive you to tears again.

“But it’s not like I have that much on my plate, I should be able to do simple things like housework. I just… I just can’t. I can’t explain it, my brain just doesn’t allow me to.”

Steve pulls away from you slightly so he has an angle to look at you directly in the eye. It looks like it physically pains him to see you struggling so much.

“My love, you are the strongest person I have ever met. I am so proud of you everyday that you are here with me, that you keep battling your own mind. You’re my fighter, my best girl, and I’m here to help you through this difficult patch. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, I love you.” He punctuates his declaration with a sweet kiss, reinforcing his words.

“We’re not married Stevie.” You point out, but he simply smirks at you.

“Not yet.”

Before Steve Rogers you believed love was tumultuous and torture, that it was meant to tear you in half, because you cared about the other person so ardently it left you bloodied and bruised. But Steve proved to you that wasn’t love - love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re going to war, instead it’s comfort, it’s a reassuring embrace of someone who has seen your battle scars and tells you it’s time to rest.

Love is solace.

And Steve Rogers is certainly your solace.

#em writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #Captain America #captain america imagine #captain america oneshot #captain america x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #marvel #mcu

[nnnyxie]

oh no! a mistletoe!?

itadori and gojo are never up to any good. especially during the holiday season. (nanami kento)

warnings; one mention of alcohol, a swear word or two

sfw, gender neutral

nanami never liked parties— especially ones thrown by gojo. it always ended in some sort of disaster. like last year, when he celebrated shoko’s birthday. he got ‘dynamite’ candles. you know… the kind you only ever see in cartoons? he somehow got those— that exploded cake everywhere. nanami was kind enough to help clean afterwards (though it was mostly because he sort of pitied shoko in the moment).

but yeah. he really doesn’t like gojo’s parties.

yet, he’s at one.

now— nanami would be resting on his recliner while reading books if he could— he really would. but, you and itadori begged him to come. no— bribed him to come. you had baked all sorts of sweet breads for him (it’s his only weakness). itadori even baked him something!! it was awful and his talents lie in cooking but— it was appreciated and was enough to convince nanami to go.

now he stood behind gojo’s kitchen island, surrounded by his friends, coworkers, and students. he held a glass of eggnog that gojo ‘secretly’ spiked. it wasn’t as sneaky as gojo hoped— nanami literally watched gojo put fireball into his cup. he doesn’t mind the alcohol but, he has to drive tonight so he’d rather not drink at all.

“why so antisocial, kento?” you stood close to him, despite having all the room behind the counter. “i don’t care for these, you know i only came because of yuji and y— the bread.” you gave a simple hum and nod, a bit sad that you weren’t explicitly part of the reason. “well uh, was the bread good?” “of course. you were the one who made it after all.” he cracked a small, very tiny, smile that you were lucky enough to catch. it made your heart soar. “thank y—” “hey~ look what we got~” gojo interrupted you with a smirk— while holding a stick (?). itadori trailed behind him. “uh… what?” you just looked at him weirdly, confused as to why he had a stick in his hands and why itadori’s own hands were behind his back and not in his sweatshirt pocket.

“okay now!” itadori quickly handed something to gojo and he hooked it on the stick.

he dangled whatever was on the stick above your heads— you slowly looked up, still very confused.

oh.

“look! it’s a mistletoe! you gotta kiss!” itadori said excitedly. he was quite fond of the thought of you and nanami becoming a couple. he looked up to the both of you. almost like parental figures. “yep~ that’s the rules~” gojo gave a teasing smirk— you wanted to punch him. ruin his life, even.

you see— somehow… someway… gojo caught on to your feelings for nanami. which was quite annoying and you had to make him take a legal oath to keep it a secret from him. especially since he’s a loud mouth.

you supposed this was his sad attempt at hinting your affection towards nanami… and with itadori being here— he definitely knew. either that or gojo just got him wrapped up in another dumbass prank.

“satoru wh—” he shushes you. like— the librarian type of shush. “c’mon it’s a tradition! and you’re a traditional guy, aren’t you nami~?” now it was nanami’s turn to get frustrated— he is traditional but, the situation is just embarrassing. not because it’s you! but, because there’s people around. “stop being weird…” nanami grumbled, very quietly. “come on you two!” itadori took the stick from gojo and waved it all around you. “kiss kiss!”

you were so happy the music was up and everyone was busy— otherwise, this situation would’ve been worse than it is now. “uhm— i… what?” your voice was quiet. this interaction has been rather embarrassing. “i— well, are you… fine with it..?” he whispered, his voice became as quiet as yours. gojo couldn’t hear— but he happily assumed that you both would follow the tradition. “if you are then… yeah. i am…” your cheeks grew warm.

was he really gonna kiss you?

nanami spun the other two around and pushed them away. “we aren’t going to, so stop being ridiculous and leave.”

huh?

nanami turned back to you and gestured towards gojo’s balcony— the two of you snuck past everyone, happily leaving unnoticed.

“so uh… that was interesting,” nanami closed the balcony door. “yeah… very…” you felt awkward and slightly confused. “i wouldn’t mind by the way. kiss you, i mean. i do want to uhm… yeah,” nanami was blushing— it was a rare and pretty sight. “i’d like to as well… to kiss you.”

you both stood awkwardly, it was silent. he stared at the ground, you noticed his drink was no longer in his hand. and— he felt like a teenager again. his heart was racing, his face was flushed, and there was that awkward silence. the kind that happens after a confession where both teens know they like one another but they aren’t sure what to do next.

“why are we acting like this? like… you know— teenagers. i mean, we’re adults. we should… take the next step. shouldn’t we?” you looked at him, waiting for a reaction or response.

he shyly turns to you— it was cute to see.

he cups your face— he had a very gentle hold. and he gulps as he pulls you towards him— you know this because, you saw how his adam’s apple bobbed.

you weren’t sure where to place your hands. on his hips? his arms? around his neck? around his waist? maybe even grabbed his shirt? you didn’t know.

though— you supposed you didn’t need to know. because, as soon as his lips touched yours, they shot to his wrists.

the kiss wasn’t very long, just a 5 second one. but, it held passion and all his pent up feelings for you. it held his longing and adoration. it was electrifying— it was as if your body had been shocked. in the good way, of course.

when he pulled away, all he could do was stare at you— “thank you,” you whispered and he chuckled. “what for?” “you know… that.” he smiled and shook his head, silently laughing. “can you do it again?”

the first story of the christmas event!

please follow along ‘lynx’s christmas event’ for more!!

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #ᓚᘏᗢ events ᗢᘏᓗ #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ works — ♡︎

[literatecowboy]

The King With No Name

8. Do You Trust Me?

Part 1

Next part

Summary: König - the king of Caldera - has been called upon by your father to choose a bride from his daughters in order to establish an alliance to keep peace over the lands they rule. When he arrives, he is enraptured by you, your father’s eldest child - an unconventional woman by all standards. He pursues your hand in marriage, doing his best to make you fall in love with him like he has fallen in love with you - much to your dismay Author's Notes: fucking finally. Also this is long sorry. Also, would people be interested in reading a kidnapper!konig fic? Warnings: Arranged marriage, SMUT, betrayal, pining, ultimate wingmanship

-----

You wasted away slowly as you sat in König’s castle.

Each day dragged on but the weeks seemed to fly by. You were allowed to do nothing alone - soldiers stood outside your door and on the balcony as you slept, forever vigilant. They remained outside of the bathroom as you bathed, the maids entrusted with your care keeping a watchful eye on you as you washed.

You ate with others watching too, though they did not eat with you. You were no longer allowed into the barracks or onto the training grounds, no longer allowed to leave the castle at all, and the silence warped your dreams into nightmares. 

Some of the men who guarded you looked upon you with pity, others neutrality, some kindness. The ones you loathed the most were the ones who stared at you with fear behind their eyes - it was not fear of you, but rather, what your husband would do to them if you were to escape. 

You watched out the windows during the day as the world bustled around you, as others lived their lives in normalcy. You coveted any news that reached your ears about the conflict - König was winning, of course, beating back his enemies and pushing them out of his lands. But there was no word of your family - of Sadie, of Lydia, of mother or father or even Henry. 

Ferdinand was a common figure in your nightmares. 

—

König hadn’t shown his face back at his castle, but he had returned to the city several times. It was Wilhelm who visited you one evening as you sat by the fire, cleaning the bow you hadn’t used in what felt like forever. 

“My lady,” he called softly as he approached your seat. You didn’t react, not bothering to look up at him. 

“My lady, I’d like to speak with you about König,” he attempted cautiously, sitting down across from you with a sigh. You looked up sharply. 

“I have no words for my jailer. That is all. Go,” you demanded, looking back down at your bow. Wilhelm sighed quietly. 

“What would you do to help your people?” he asked after a moment, fixing his gaze heavily on you. 

“More than just sitting here, rotting away in a castle that doesn’t belong to me,” you spat, glaring at Wilhelm. 

“I’d like to give you that opportunity if you’d only hear me out,” he said. You sat stock still, not having to think it over for long. 

“Then speak.”

“Come away from this castle with me to see König. Lay with him again,” Wilhelm said, his cheeks turning pink. Your mouth fell open. 

“You’ve come all this way, lied to me about being able to help my people, and dangled freedom over my head so you could demand that I have sex with König? You’re a bastard and König is worse. I have never lain with him and I never will. Leave me alone!” you snarled, rising from your seat and stalking towards the door. 

“Wait! Please, I should have explained myself. König misses you, misses your touch. He hasn’t said it but I can see it in him. He’s more violent, more angry, more impatient. He’s starting to become reckless. I need your help to focus him!” Wilhelm yelled. You picked a book off of a shelf and hurled it at him. He ducked it just in time. 

“Fuck off!” you shrieked, snatching your bow from where it lay and storming out of the room and toward your bedroom, your guards following close behind. 

—

That night was hot, and after returning from your bath, you noticed that your maids had not built a fire in your fireplace. Once the bustle around you had settled and you had been confined to your bed, the guards had left to stand watch around the entrances to your room, leaving you alone. 

You blew out the candles one at a time as you did each night, and after waiting some time under the covers, the castle quieted. As the moon rose outside you dressed as quickly and as quietly as you could, tightening the straps on your armor and pulling a hooded cloak on over your clothing to hide yourself. 

With your weapons by your side, you stepped into the fireplace, gazing up the chimney and catching sight of the stars above. The climb wouldn’t be far, and judging by the roughness of the stone walls, it wouldn’t be that difficult either. 

As you hauled yourself out of the chimney and found your footing on the roof minutes later, you dusted the soot from your cloak and looked around. 

There were no guards on the sloped roof so you crept forward, moving as quickly and silently as you could across the tiles and to one of the tall towers near the outward edge of the castle. 

As you climbed down the ivy and landed on the ground, the tower door swung open and you nearly ran right into Sheriff Klein. He gasped but you clapped a hand over his mouth, your other hand finding your knife in it’s sheath. 

“Shh. It’s me,” you hissed, glancing around. Klein nodded, his eyes wide. 

“Stay quiet,” you murmured, pulling your hand from his mouth slowly. 

“How did you escape?” he hissed, glancing around and checking to see if you were followed by any guards. 

“That’s not important. I need you to get me outside of the walls. You owe me, Klein,” you whispered, pointing at the hitched prison wagon that waited just beyond the shadow of the castle. He sighed. 

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To save my family.”

—

Sheriff Klein stopped the wagon in the trees not far outside of the city and unlocked the back, tugging the iron door open and offering his hand to help you out. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. 

“Thank you, sir. I believe we’re even,” you said, pulling back and offering him a smile. He returned it. 

“Come back to us when this is all over. I could use a woman resourceful as you helping me keep the city safe,” he said, unhitching one of the horses from the wagon and offering you his reins. 

And then you were off, riding bareback with only your bow and the knife on your belt, heading for home. 

—

Several days of riding took you through the carnage of war and past burnt-out villages and farms, their survivors hardly sparing you a glance as you headed deeper for the grassy plains of your homeland. As you rode, you passed the thicket where you and König had spent your first nights together, where he had slain the wolf and saved your life. 

Soldiers passed you occasionally but none seemed to recognize you as you blurred past them on your horse. As night fell on the day you reached the outskirts of your home, you set up camp, hitching your horse to a tree and building a small fire. You’d hunted a rabbit and ate the leftover meat for dinner and laid out on a bedroll you’d taken from a dead soldier as the fire died out slowly. The woods were quiet when it happened. 

König pounced on you from out of the darkness, terrifying your horse and sending it kicking and tugging until the lead broke and it took off like a shot. 

You screamed and thrashed as he pinned you to the ground, forcing your arms above your head as he buried his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. He slotted his hips between your legs, grinding himself against you roughly as he kissed at your collarbone. 

“Oh maus, how exhilarating it has been to chase you across my lands. I have missed you,” he groaned. 

“Get off of me you fucking psycho!” you screeched, kicking at him and thrashing in his hold. He drew back as if wounded and you scrambled away from him. 

“Maus, have you not missed me? I am sorry for what I have done but–”

“But nothing! You kept me caged like some pet bird! Is that all I was to you? A pet? A decoration? Just a pretty thing to distract you and put down when you get bored?” you shouted, drawing your knife from your belt and thrusting it at his throat. 

“Oh, liebling, you are my heart, my reason to live,” König said breathily, gazing up at you from his knees. You were struck by the memory of the first time he’d come into your bedroom and your heart thundered at the thought as you pushed the blade forward. 

“Go away. I’m going to go save my family because you clearly aren’t capable,” you hissed, tears starting to flow freely down your cheeks. 

“Not capable?” König barked out a laugh, looking taken aback. “I have killed hundreds for you, maus. I near your castle each day. My men rip through the enemy with ease. All of this I do for you, for your honor,” he breathed.

“My honor is my own to forge, and you locked me in that dreadful castle!” you shouted, punctuating your words with wild stabs from your blade. He caught it in an armored hand and took it from you with ease, throwing it aside.

“Maus, I must do what I must to keep you safe,” he said, rising to his feet and taking your hands. You looked deep into his eyes. 

“Do you trust me?” you asked. 

“Of course, maus.”

“Do you want me to love you?” you breathed. He stiffened, his grip tightening. 

“Yes.”

“Then trust me, König.”

—

You rode into the war camp on the back of König’s stallion just as proud as the horse was. König trailed behind you on foot, watching with stars in his eyes as you shouted a greeting to his men, a great cheer splitting the night air as they caught sight of you in your battered, road-weary, armored glory.

As you dismounted in front of the largest tent, Wilhelm came to greet you, a smug look on his face. You froze. 

“You madman. You planned this, didn’t you? Riled me up at the castle so I’d break from my chains and ride out on my own?” you asked. He raised his hands and laughed, shaking his head. 

“I’d like to apologize, my lady, truly. I was doing only what needed to be done. But in all seriousness…have you never lain with König?” You laughed and smacked him in the chest before you hugged him, shaking your head. 

“The poor Sheriff must think so oddly of me now,” you chuckled. Wilhelm quirked an eyebrow. 

“He wasn’t in on it, my lady. I figured I’d leave the details up to you.”

You passed into the tent to collapse into a proper bed a moment later, the tent flap falling shut behind you. König approached Wilhelm, watching as you disappeared. 

“Does she hate me?” he asked, his gaze unfocused as his mind raced. 

“Hard to say. I wouldn’t push your luck though.”

—

König came into the tent a little while after you’d settled into bed and sat down on the end of it, working at the straps of his armor. It was quiet. 

“I…I am sorry. What I did was not right,” he said after a moment, setting his armor aside and turning to make eye contact with you. 

“Thank you for apologizing,” you said softly, rubbing your eyes and yawning. 

“I would like to sleep with you, maus. To embrace you. I will not touch you inappropriately. I…I have missed you,” he admitted. You thought it over, biting your lip and sighing. 

“I missed you too, König, but I don’t know. You scared me in the woods…” you admitted, curling up into a ball and shivering. He dipped his head respectfully. 

“I trust you, maus. I will sleep outside,” he said, rising and heading for the tent flap. Your heart sank slightly and you surprised yourself by calling out.

“Wait. I changed my mind. Sleep here,” you called out as his hand met the canvas. He paused and turned to you, his eyes wide. 

“Anything you wish, maus. I…give me one moment.” He stepped further away from the bed, taking his shirt off and letting it rest over the back of a chair before pausing. 

With a deep breath, he took his hood off and let it fall. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you, his eyes brimming with worry and uncertainty. You sat up slowly, silent as you took him in. He was beautiful. 

—

The next morning you woke up nestled against König’s chest, his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. You watched him sleep for a time, tracing his facial features with your eyes and his scars with your fingertips. 

When he stirred and his eyes cracked open, you encouraged him with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then he was awake and kissing him back, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer to him. He grasped at your hips and pulled you up so that you could straddle his lap. You could feel his erection throbbing against your core and you groaned softly into the kiss. He slid his hands up your shirt slowly, breaking away from your lips and looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Maus, I do not want to make love to you for the first time in this place where my men might hear you,” he cooed, squeezing your breasts gently before his hands dropped back to your hips. 

“I wasn’t planning on it. I’m still mad at you,” you murmured teasingly, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled him in for another kiss. 

“You are making it difficult to resist you,” he admitted with a laugh, laying you down gently on your back and climbing on top of you. Your lips met again and you slid your hands up his bare chest, teasing at the hem of his trousers before pulling away. 

“Consider how difficult it will be to resist me once you’ve proven your love to me and this fighting is over,” you purred, pushing gently against his chest. He backed away from you with a soft groan, watching as you got up and undressed. His breathing got heavier as he watched you dress and he got up, hugging you from behind and nipping at your neck. You laughed and shooed him away before leaving the tent and his view. 

—

It was cold outside and the morning was foggy. You armed yourself and headed to the edge of the camp to meet Wilhelm, looking out over the cliff and down upon the city and the castle you’d once called home. 

The city seemed deserted - villagers had been imbued with the good sense to flee as König’s armies marched closer. Ferdinand no doubt paced in the castle, plotting his resistance. Little hope was left for him now, and you were determined that he’d be dead by the time the week was over. 

You wondered about your sisters, your parents. Were they alive? Were they being cared for? Had your father resisted at all when Ferdinand had seized power?

“You want to sneak in. I can see it in your eyes,” Wilhelm said as you approached, his arms folded across his armored chest. 

“I grew up in that castle. I snuck out nearly every night. I know more nooks and crannies and passageways that could lead me inside than even the rats,” you admitted, sitting on a large rock and watching the guards on the walls. 

Had any resisted? Were any still loyal to you? You knew these men, their families. Would they kill you on sight or be loyal to your cause?

König approached, his armor clanking as he came to stand beside you and rested a gloved hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you closer to him. 

“Would anyone be able to detect you if you went in?” Wilhelm asked. König stiffened but said nothing, he merely rubbed your shoulder gently. 

“Not unless I wanted them to detect me. I suspect that once the men can see me I might be able to sway some of them to my side. I think that I can take down Ferdinand from within,” you said. 

“I think it’s worth the attempt. It’ll be faster than a full-out siege and do less damage to your castle so there’s less damage to be rebuilt when you take it back. The only danger would be if they were to take you captive,” Wilhelm said cautiously, watching his hooded king for a response. 

“They would not kill me, at least, I do not think that they would. If they have my family in there, I have to try to get them back,” you said. 

“Maus, will you ride with me?” König cut in, taking your hand and helping you rise. You nodded and shot an apologetic look to Wilhelm as you followed him out of camp and to the area where the horses were kept. He lifted you onto his horse and climbed on behind you and you rode off into the woods. 

“If this is what you wish to do, I will not stop you,” he began. You rode together for a little while in silence until you found a little clearing filled with flowers far off the beaten path. He laid out his cape for you and sat down, opening his arms to you.

“I wish that you would not, but you are a capable little maus. You can scurry quietly,” he said with a small smile. “But you must have a plan for when you go in, and you must allow me to charge in with force should anything go wrong.”

“It would be good to have a failsafe,” you admitted, stepping closer to him as he wrapped his arms around you and sat you on one of his massive thighs. 

“Then you should go tonight after the sun sets. I will bring men along the sides of the castle and should there be a commotion inside, we will storm it. Where will you go in?” he asked. 

“There are some catacombs far beneath the castle that open near the river. I can creep in there and nobody will disturb me. I will be let out into the dungeon, where hopefully I can find my family,” you said. 

“I trust you, maus. I love you. You must promise to me that you will come back to me safely,” he murmured. You rested your head against his chest plate and nodded. 

“König?” you asked softly after a moment, gazing up at him. He looked down at you curiously, and you slid your hand under his hood, cupping his cheek gently. 

“Make love to me.”

—

He was gentle as he helped you out of your armor and laid you on your back, leaning over to kiss you as he fumbled with the straps of his own and let it fall into the grass beside you. He only broke the kiss to tug his shirt and hood off in one motion. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he crawled on top of you, locking your lips together and gently tracing his fingers against the skin under your shirt. 

You pulled it off as he reached your breast and leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as they hardened, caressing and kissing your breasts as he drowned himself in you. 

You pushed your hips up to grind your core against his erection with a groan, feeling him grow even harder as he leaned up and kissed your neck, his gentle, teasing touches making you writhe. 

He paused to tug his pants down, allowing you to sit up and do the same. You crawled on top of him as he tossed both pairs to the side, straddling him and moaning as he gripped your hips and ground you against his erection, grunting into your ear softly. 

You moaned as he bit your neck and sucked at the mark he’d made feverishly, lapping at the bruise with his tongue as it formed. Your core throbbed and pulsed and he laid you back down gently, carefully pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them away. 

He pushed your knees apart gently, hunger in his eyes as he gazed upon your core. In an instant he surged forward, kissing up your leg and inner thighs before licking a long stripe up your entrance, making you toss your head back as your back arched, crying out in pleasure. 

König grasped you by the hips and pulled you forward, shoving his tongue deep into you and rubbing his nose against your clit. You throbbed against him, your arousal coating his face as he devoured you like a starving man, palming himself through his boxers as he listened to your moans and gasps of pleasure. 

“Oh, König!” you cried, your back arching and your toes curling as he kept going, his eyes flickering open to hold your gaze. Your entire body was hot as if his touch was a flame and you shivered as you saw the desire and love in his eyes, feeling your stomach tighten. 

König pulled his tongue from you with a groan and gently inserted one of his long, thick fingers. It felt better than anything you’d ever felt before - the sensation was alien and overwhelming, and as he pumped the finger in and out slowly, he brushed against a spot that made you mewl loudly, whimpering as you angled your hips so he might brush against it again. 

“Do I make you feel good, maus? Tell me how you feel,” he purred, inserting a second finger and pumping them faster, angling them so they just barely brushed against that spot with each thrust. 

“So good! Oh my god!” you cried, gasping for breath as you felt your orgasm building. König leaned down and sucked on your clit slowly, pushing his fingers directly into the spot you wanted him to hit so much. 

“Fuck!” you came loudly, crying out, moaning and whimpering and panting as your body spasmed. König gently pulled away from you as you came down, crawling over you, kissing you and wrapping you tightly in his arms. He’d freed himself from his boxers and you glanced down, your eyes widening. 

“Are you…are you going to fit inside of me?” you asked in a small voice, heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked up at him. He cooed, kissing your collarbone and running his fingers through your hair. 

“We can wait, maus,” he murmured in your ear. The tip of his cock brushed between your folds and bumped against your clit and you gasped, pleasure rushing through your body again. 

“No, no, no more waiting,” you gasped, pushing your hips up to meet his. He groaned as he ground his cock against your wetness, eventually guiding the tip into place and pushing in just a little bit. 

You cried out as he slid into you slowly, stretching your walls and making your eyes water from pleasure as you adapted to his size, panting softly as you watched him enter you. 

“I love you so much, maus,” he moaned, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he bottomed out, staying in place as he wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently as he kissed you. 

You deepened the kiss, wrapping your legs around him gently and holding onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you adjusted to his size. His first thrust was slow and experimental - he watched your face for any expression other than pleasure as he pulled out slowly and pushed back in. 

“Give me more,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head as he took you, bucking your hips up into his thrusts encouragingly. 

He buried his face in your neck and moaned, setting an even pace as he thrusted in and out of you, gently cupping one of your breasts in his hand as the other held your hip steady. 

“I’m not going to - not going to break!” you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming as you reached down to rub your clit while he fucked you. He looked up at you, his eyes hazy with pleasure and love as he picked up the pace, slamming his hips into yours more roughly and with greater speed. 

Morning light burst through the clearing and turned you golden as you made love, the slapping of skin on skin and moans mingling with birdsong echoing through the beautiful clearing. 

“I want to make you feel so good, maus,” he growled into your ear as he picked up the pace yet again, kissing you roughly before leaning down and biting your neck to mark you. 

“Fuck, you are!” you cried, feeling another orgasm building in your stomach. 

“Cum for me, my pretty wife. Tell this forest who loves you, who is making you feel so good,” he growled, biting your breast as his thrusts lost their rhythm and he moved wildly against you. 

“König!” you cried as you came, your back arching as your body spasmed, clenching tightly around him. He moaned your name as he came at the same time as you, his last, sloppy thrusts burying his cock deep inside of you as he filled you. 

You caught your breath together, embracing and kissing before König slowly pulled out, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side to snuggle. He pulled his cape around your body to shield you as he held you, stroking your hair gently as you rested against his chest. 

“I love you, maus,” he whispered as he watched you doze off. You could only mumble something in assent as you drifted to sleep.

-----

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