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#i want to hold his hand i want to have a picnic with him i want to talk about gardens with him my dear dear friend cas
miguelhugger2099 · 22 hours
Note
HIII tehehe
so imagine this, miggy and wifey reader coming home from a date and reader is just giggling as she remembers him being kind to all the kids who came up to him wanting to play with him. and reader is just like 'what if i just gave him one instead'
miggy notices his wifey reader giggling to himself, mini fluff moment happens. then reader exposes herself and then
~smut~
Baby Maker
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long overdue and was very much in the accidentally deleted category like everything in this ask was written it just needed an ending before POOF gone. so, a thousand apologies i could not say sorry enough nonie. i tried to write down everything i remembered so i could get it out as soon as possible. as always, if you're not satisfied, this ask can be rewritten for a third time Art: feminine.999 on instagram
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After a long and tiring winter, Miguel was eager to take you out for a picnic date in the warm sun again. It was always a sweet reminder of your time as young lovers and just having the simplicity of being in each others presence along with some food. So whenever the time was right and the temperature was warm enough, Miguel would plan and whisk you away to the park at the same hill you two have decided would be your spot. "Miguel just hand me something." You smile at him and stick your hands out, the picnic blanket hanging lightly on your forearm. Miguel carries both the cooler and basket as well as your purse on his shoulder. He had only asked you to fold the blanket but you wanted to help so you held onto it instead while he insisted he had everything else. "Ah-ah." He says, shaking his head. "Tengo todo, mama. I'm okay." Obviously, he was. He could carry several more things if he wanted to but you felt really bad watching him. "Give me the keys then. I'll drive." You cross your arms. In truth, he didn't want you to drive- he's a little traditional when it comes to handling things on his own while you rested freely from responsibilities. But, he sighed and instead of protesting, he nodded. "Keys are in my back pocket." He pouts dejectedly. You found it cute and rolled your eyes. You reached around him to grab the keys from his pocket, giving a teasing squeeze to his ass which he jumped at. "Oye." He says with a playful warning tone, squinting his eyes down at you. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as well as a spark in his eyes. "C'mon." You shrug and skip in front of him, pretending to be innocent. At the car, Miguel was finishing up putting everything in the trunk, massaging the palms of his hands to ease the strain of holding onto the handles of the cooler and basket. You place the blanket over everything, feeling Miguel kiss your temple and his hand sneaking around your waist. "Good?" You ask him, looking up and cupping his cheeks. Miguel leans into you, his hands on your hips to keep him steady. "Mhm." He hums as he looks back down at you. Miguel kisses your forehead then each of your cheeks before finishing it off with a long smooch to your lips. "Let's go home." He murmurs.
Before you could move, Miguel looks down after feeling something tap the side of his leg. A soccer ball rolled a bit before he skillfully rolled it under his foot and kicked it into the air so it landed in his hand. “Whoa!” A chorus of young high-pitched voices shouted in unison. A group of kids huddled by you two, marveling at Miguel. “How did you do that?” One boy gasps, his eyes lighting up in admiration. Miguel chuckles nervously, bashful of the attention of ten-year olds. “Ah–it’s a little tricky.” He hands the ball to a little girl and she waves it high above her head. “Can you show me?” She squeals and Miguel blinks, looking back at you. You covered your mouth to hide your giggles and smile. “Go.” You tilt your head at the group of kiddies and Miguel stumbles over his words but the kids already took your approval and began tugging on Miguel’s arm back to the grassy fields to play.
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As you got home, you couldn’t bring down the smile on your face, cheeks hurting with how long you’ve grinned to yourself. You let out a couple of giggles remembering how the children flocked to him and how Miguel looked carrying two grown kids in his arms when his little team scored a goal. Not only had you felt warmth in your cheeks but in other places as well. “Why do you look like that?” Miguel asks after placing the bags down near the door. He’d organize things later. “Like what?” Miguel brings his hand to the side of his face and bunches his shoulders up, looking up at the ceiling with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Like this!” You punch his shoulder and Miguel laughs, bringing his arms around you from behind and leaves little apology kisses along your neck. “I did not look like that.” You defend yourself. “Mmm, you did. You always look like that anyway. At least when it comes to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his breath tickling your senses and you squeal to move away from him but he just holds you closer. “So what is it this time? Was I extra good-looking today? Did I sweep my favorite girl, my wife, off her feet?” Miguel presses his lips on your cheek with a loud smooch. He couldn’t help teasing you a bit. “No, it was different!”
“Hmm, different?” “The kids at the park.” You feel Miguel pause and he lifts his head up and tilts it to the side after turning you around. “What about the kids at the park?” He asks, confusion swirling in his eyes. “You looked…good with them.” He huffs a quick laugh. “Okay?” “And I was thinking, y’know,” You giggle at the thought of Miguel picking you up, filling you up, carrying a baby–making him a father. He wanted to pick your brain. “What?” He squints down at you. “What if we had a baby?” Miguel’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. “H-huh?” His voice went up an octave as his cheeks had gotten a little redder. You felt his hands tense around your hips and you secure your arms around his neck. “What if..I just gave you a baby?” You repeat in a hushed whisper. “With your help, of course.” You giggled and your flirting sent shivers down his spine. Subconsciously, Miguel’s eyes turn downwards to your stomach–imagining it swollen and growing with each passing day with just a few pumps of his cum. His eyes dilate and he feels the blood in his body rush straight down to his groin. “O-oh, God…” He groans, his breathing already getting heavy. “Are you sure? You want a baby? You want my baby?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hands gripping your sundress. It fell just above your knees so Miguel was already sliding his hand up under it to feel the skin of your thigh, skin still a little warm from being in the sun. “Mhm, yes, please.” You whine, feeling the rush of arousal drench into your panties from hearing Miguel hold onto his last remaining self-restraint before he fucks you silly. At your plea, Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you up towards him to kiss you deeply. His lips devour yours, tongue slipping past your defenses to tangle in a dance with your own tongue. One hand pushes your head closer while his other hand runs down to grip the plump fat of your ass through the fabric of your dress. Tapping it twice, he signals you to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and he hurriedly enters the bedroom. Miguel falls on top of you, bodies bouncing on the mattress but it does nothing to stop Miguel’s desire for you.
Miguel separates from your lips, dragging his wet mouth down to your jawline and neck while his hands bunch up your dress at your waist. He brings a hand up to pull down the top half of your dress and begins to leave small love bites across your breasts before licking your nipple into his mouth. With your head rolled back, your fingers run through his hair, hips attempting to grind up for some friction but with his weight on top of you–you’re helpless. “Want me to make you a mama, huh?” He growls huskily, lifting his head up and using his fingers to flick and tweak your nipples so he could watch you screw your eyes shut and your mouth parted open as you moan his name into the air. “Want me to make you all pretty and swollen with my cum, hm? Fuck…” “Oh, God–Miggy..!” Your hands at his shoulders, arching your back off the bed and writhing underneath him in a desperate attempt to make him focus on your wet pussy. Miguel can’t help but play with your tits, groping them in his hands and squishing them. He pulls your dress further down, tracing your curves and worshiping them to engrave it in his memory. Your dress now on the floor, you lay bare with just your panties. Miguel presses down on the soaking patch between your legs and you shiver. “No me jodas, Miguel. Just fuck me.” You groan and buck your hips to grind on his fingers but he chuckles and pulls away. “Dale paciencia, mi amor.” He says even though he feels the same, his cock straining against his jeans and leaving a wet spot in his boxers from dripping precum. Miguel leans back down to kiss you, hands fumbling with the zipper and he hastily shoves his boxers and pants down his legs. Deciding he was also impatient, Miguel rips your underwear apart and he bites down hard on his lips to stop him from moaning loudly at the sight of your glistening folds. Mind cluttered with lust, you don’t even notice the tear but you do feel his hard cock rubbing between your puffy pussy lips. He sighs while he collects your slick onto his shaft, his leaking tip mixing with your juices. “Mmm, fuck yes…” He shudders, thighs flexing as his muscles tensed up. Goosebumps litter his skin and he looks down at your body. Sprawled nude on the mattress while you’re already looking fucked out of your mind when he’s barely put the tip in. His cockhead catches inside and he teasingly enters. His hand places itself on your stomach, pupils blown wide open.
“Qué pasa, mi amor? Te sientes bien? Ay, que linda eres...” He purrs as he pushes inside you. “Feel me, mama.” Each inch is slow and he makes you feel the growing stretch of his cock, veins pulsing against your throbbing walls–your cunt convulses around him to suck him deeper inside your warmth. “Mine, mine, mine. So pretty, you’ll look gorgeous when I fuck a baby into this tight pussy.” Miguel whispers against your neck. His cock twitches when you claw at his back, choking out your moans as your face flushes with a warm blush. He could feel his balls aching but he held back as best as he could. His palm feels his cock from inside you, poking through your stomach and his eyes roll back. Fuck, he’s deep. “Tell me you want it. Dímelo otra vez.” He moans, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. Your mouth had been drooling since he teased your entrance with his cock, mind blank with nothing but the desire to be bred by your husband. With a weak and broken whimper, you begged. “Wan’ it,” You squirmed. “Breed me.” Miguel’s forehead landed on your shoulder, his body hunched over as his hand went to pull your thigh on his hip and slammed into you. You screamed and held onto him before he started pounding ruthlessly into you. You could’ve flown off the bed with just how fast and hard Miguel decided to pace at. He wraps his hands to your ass and pulls your bottom half up for easier access, dragging your wet folds up and down his cock. He pants, breathing shakily as his arms tense up–veins protruding and running down all the way to his hands. Miguel then lets go, grabbing both your legs and pushes them to your chest. He folds you in half, displaying your cunt to his eyes as his main priority. He bites his lip, grunting with every pounding he gives you. His knees dig into the mattress to anchor himself as he jackhammers his twitching cock into your warm wetness. The arousal gushing out of you and rolling down between your asscheeks and onto the bed. “You’ll be such a good mama.” He moans, curling his hips so his cock arches right into your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly, head thrown back while your nails rake his back in streaks of red, imprinting yourself on him. You’re a squealing mess, tears in your eyes and you could barely feel your legs anymore. Face morphed with pure ecstasy as you feel each drag of his cock empty and refill you over and over again. His bulbous tip nudges against your cervix and twitches against your velvety walls and your moans turn shamelessly pornographic-like. Meanwhile Miguel gets himself off to the thought of you creaming on his cock, his balls unleashing his cum straight into your womb and getting you pregnant. He huffs, ears ringing as his mind only focuses on breeding you. He thinks to himself that once isn’t enough. Just one measly pump of his seed won’t be enough to bear you with his child. He’d have to do it more than once. He had to see his thick load seeping out of your puffy pussy folds. He wanted to see you filled to the brim, pumped full to make sure you’ll carry. He wanted to see your belly grow, creating a being that was the perfect combination of you and him.
His mind spurs him on, mouth open as he spews his own moans and  praising your tight cunt at how well it takes him. He’s pussy drunk, hips smacking and his balls slapping against you, his body pressing your legs tighter against yourself and ravaging himself into you with heavy thrusts. He grits his teeth when you scream and clench around him, pussy fluttering as you feel the release of an orgasm shoot through your body. Your legs quiver as Miguel holds onto you, eyes rolling back and drool escaping off the side of your mouth. Your cum drips into a puddled mess below you and Miguel’s orgasm follows right after you, drilling his cock until he’s balls deep. His cock twitches with each spurt of warm cum shooting out his tip, plugging into your womb. You take deep breaths but it seems impossible when Miguel keeps your legs up. His head is hung while he waits until your cunt milks every last drop of his seed. You weakly reach up and cup his cheek to catch his attention. He meets your gaze and you give a tired smile and pull him down for a kiss. Miguel eases your legs down and kisses you back. His hands rubs comfortingly around the dip of your waist. For a moment you feel at peace, a bliss of entering a new era with him. The peace lasts for just a moment. Miguel leaves your lips and twirls your body on your stomach, lifting your bottom half up so your ass hangs in the air. In the process, his dick leaves your warmth and it leaves you feeling empty. You gasp and grip onto the sheets, head turning to try and see Miguel. “‘M not done.” He mumbles. “You wanted me to breed you so I’ll fuckin’ breed you.” His words are slurred but his mind is made up. He angles his cock to your wet cunt again, smearing the combined arousal around with his tip as if painting on a canvas. Instinctively, you moan and wiggle your hips back, pussy swelling up with desire again. Miguel smirks and pushes back inside and the stretch is familiar and comforting. Shuddering, your pussy welcomes him back by squeezing tightly, sucking him in, and he hisses. “Uyy, fuck…” He sighs. He starts off slow, bumping you forward with easy and short thrusts, feeling himself slowly grow hard again inside you. Your eyes flutter close, face smushed into the pillow and drooling on the case of it as your body lurches forward. Miguel increases his speed, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip to bring your ass back onto his cock. His balls smack your clit for added stimulation and it makes you jump from the electric pleasure zipping straight to your core. “Oh my God! Miguel!” You whine, heat flushing on your cheeks, Miguel’s dick reaching different places in a different position. The pain of sensitivity washes away, your pussy now craving the hot sticky liquid of your husband. Miguel looms over you, bending one leg to keep him steady as he keeps drilling deeper into you. His lips leave wet and sloppy kisses to your shoulder, panting and sharing warm breaths with you while your bodies buck up against one another.
“That feel good, mama? Hm?” He moans, burying himself in your neck while his hips snap up against yours, ass slapping and rippling with each thrust.
“Yes! Yes! Mhm!” Your voice turns high pitched, eyes glassy and unfocused while being bred like a bitch in heat. Still, you took pride in it to be the one to carry his child, to have him use your hole as his cumdump and take him however many times as long as you keep feeling like this. You’d gladly take him over and over again.
“You’ll give me another baby after this one, right mama?” He hums, tongue licking your neck and nipping at your skin. “Say you will, querida. Say you’ll let me put a baby in you again–we’ll have a big family.” He whines, humping your ass in quick strokes. “Say it, say it, say it, please, please.”
Miguel could feel himself getting closer. He could feel you getting close too with the familiar pulse and clench of your walls around his throbbing cock. His balls are wet with your slick, your wetness never ending.
“Yes! I will! Promise! Just–please!” Your words are barely audible with your face pushed into the pillow but Miguel is satisfied with your cockdrunk state. His cock engorges with the thought of a big family, you giving him as many kids as he wants and him watching it all happen once he spills as much as he wants in your willing cunt.
His hips go out of rhythm, he chases his high of impregnating you for a second time and his cock twitches violently before squirting ropes of cum to paint your walls white. He doesn’t stop pumping, wanting to feel you cream on his cock so badly even when the overstimulation makes him whimper.
With a cry of his name, your pussy pulses around him and you feel his previous load drip out of you to make space for his new one. The liquid trickles down your thighs and your shake as the orgasm is ripped out of you. When you stiffen, Miguel drags his cock out from you and flips you on your back again.
Barely giving you time to recover, Miguel lifts you up from the bed and your back makes contact with the cool wall. He holds you securely under your ass and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist once more. Your arms are around his neck, hands in his hair and Miguel captures your lips in a messy kiss. His hips rut into you to slide his dick back inside which resounds out in rapid smacks of skin on skin contact.
You’re bouncing on his dick, hair tangled and becoming staticy from your head rubbing on the wall. His thrusts slow to a stop as he focuses on making out with you, tongue dancing with yours and exploring your mouth with a low moan of pleasure.
Teeth clack against each other and you roll your pelvis to regain the friction. Pussy clenches around him desperately and Miguel lets out a guttural groan, separating from your lips to bite your chest. Your back lifts off the wall and you push your tits to his mouth, Miguel eagerly sucking your nipples and switching between left and right.
He angles up and up, feeling your walls slide on him like some silicon dildo. He gropes your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading them apart while your slick sounds out with a sloppy, dirty and wet mess. Miguel shoves you harder against the wall, pounding your body in rhythmic thrusts that bang loud enough for a passerby to hear. His back is covered with your nails marks.
You’re screaming, you’re so fucking sensitive but it’s just so hot how he just keeps going. There’s a fire that’s ignited in you–some sick form of pleasure that you get off on your husband pumping you full of semen. It gave you pleasure just how badly he wanted this–wanted you. You can’t help but squeeze around him, pussy unable to handle the bundle of overstimulated nerves so it spasms.
Jaw slacked and spit dribbling down your chin with your tongue lolled out your mouth–you can barely form a thought when Miguel’s fucking them out of you. You didn’t expect for Miguel to jump at the chance at having a baby but right now, it felt so worth it. His teeth bites at your nipple, tongue rolling around the bud and devouring it like you were the sweetest thing he’s tasted.
“Miguell…! I’m so–mmph!–fuck, I’m close!” You pull on his strands of hair and he lets go of your nipple. Miguel leaves his forehead on your chest, breath fanning your skin while he bucks into you. He cums first, his essence spilling out and dribbling back down on his cock and he grunts with annoyance. His annoyance doesn’t last long when you climax just a few seconds after with a squeal. You ankles lock tightly around his waist to push him to the hilt to keep the rest of his cum–old and new–plugged inside. Miguel shudders and moves you off the wall and back to the edge of the bed.
Miguel lays you down on the mattress with a huff of exhaustion, becoming sleepy after three orgasms. Still, he turns you on your side, lifting your leg up so he could slide in his cock between your twitching and sensitive folds.
You strangle out a whine, eyes blinking in a dazed haze. You reach around you to grip his hair and plead for mercy. You don’t know how you even lasted this long.
“Thought you wanted a baby. I’m making sure we’re having that baby.” He mumbles against your neck, humming when he sheathes inside you again. Your cunt spasms, fluttering and pulsating from overstimulation. However, Miguel is gentle this time.
He grinds behind you in easy thrusts. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, turning your head around with your mouth slightly parted, whining out your moans. Miguel kisses you, his hand gripping your thigh tightly to uphold it while his cock slips in and out of you. The evidence of his essence drips out of you and leaves a shiny coat and the milky white circle at the base of his shaft prominent from previous orgasms.
You weakly buck your ass back to go in time with his thrusting. You break from the kiss, string of spit connecting on your wet lips before you rest your head back on the pillow, heart thumping wildly. Miguel goes back to kissing your neck and shoulders.
“Asi es, mami,” He whispers huskily. “One more. Can you do that for me? Jus’ one more.” His hips roll in circles and his hand goes underneath you to reach around to your front, fingers finding your clit. He rolls it between his fingers and circles around it softly with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your hips stutter and feel another climax coming, but this time a little weaker than the rest.
“Mig…Miggy…” You whine and he shushes you gently. His fingers leave your clit and he rests his hand on your stomach, thumb rubbing up and down the small pudge of tummy where his baby will grow inside you.
“I know, mi reina, I know. I love you so much. I love you. I love you so damn much.” He whispers sweetly, Miguel kissing behind your ear. His words of affection make you whimper.
“I love you too.”
Miguel winds up cumming inside you for the final time, emptying out all of his energy and hugging you tight to his chest while you squeal and cum right after him. He keeps you close, putting your leg down and curling his arms around your waist to spoon you.
Your breathing slowly evens out, exhaustion catching up to you. Miguel pulls out, each drag shocking your nerves until he leaves with a wet plop, strings of cum connecting you both together until it breaks. He turns you around to face him and brings your head against his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage and you weakly hug him back. You feel full just like he told you he would do to you.
You can’t help but feel content, excitement blooming in your chest for the next chapter in your life with your husband. He's warm.
“We’re gonna be parents.” You whisper softly. Miguel’s lips kiss your hair and he lifts your face up to him. He continues to pepper your cheeks and forehead with kisses.
“We’re gonna be parents.” He echos. “Thank you.”
You couldn’t ask for a better man to start a family with.
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A/N: me when i enforce my breeding kink miguel agenda
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doodle-pops · 3 days
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Dating Galdor Would Include...
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𑁍 First of all, I don’t think or believe that there will ever be a problem in dating this soft elf. He’s not a people pleaser, but he does his best to put you first and ensure that all your needs and wants are met.
𑁍 He adores it when you show interest in his work which leads to him grabbing you by the hand and leading you to his garden to show you all about his plants and flowers, giving you a private tour.
𑁍 One of the best parts about dating Galdor is that you receive lots of plants he spent years nurturing before gifting them to you. You will be taught all the best ways to care for agriculture and learn how to make the best teas. If you wish to become a healer, you’re also in the right place.
𑁍 He is an excellent cook, so do expect to receive hand-cooked meals for your lunch and dinner dates, even for breakfast. There are times he’d invite you over to cook with him, it’s okay if you don’t know how to cook, he’d teach you with a kind smile on his face, patiently.
𑁍 All your walks are done in the gardens as well as picnics. He has probably built a stream/pool in his private gardens so that you two can go for an impromptu dip when the day is hot.
𑁍 He enjoys taking you to balls so he can dance with you the entire night. He won’t even let anyone else have a chance to dance with you—it’s not done out of jealousy—it’s just that he loves the feeling he gets when he’s holding you in his arms.
𑁍 He isn’t strict on rules and society like a few other people, so he’s willing to be silly and wild with you without worrying about what others will say. In his thoughts “If it makes you happy, it makes him happy”.
𑁍 He’s a funny elf, not on the same level as Glorfindel or Egalmoth, but he’s ever funny. He loves to make you laugh when the moment calls for it, he does behave when it’s serious events and the moment doesn’t call for it though.
𑁍 Cuddling is a must for him, he enjoys it more than you’ll even believe. Because he isn’t that energetic, it’s easy to catch him anytime for a cuddling session. He’s always down for being wrapped up in your arms. Most of the time, 9 out of 10, he has fallen asleep to you petting his hair.
𑁍 His kisses are to die for because you had never pinned him as the type to be passionate about them. At first, he’ll cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing them gently before one hand snakes downwards to snake around your waist and the other cups your nape. Gingerly he’ll tilt your head upwards and tease you with the brush of his lips against yours before swooping in for a breathtaking kiss. I mean it. He will take your breath away.
𑁍 Not someone overly stylish but does ensure that he is well dressed, he loves it when you braid his hair for him or sometimes pick out his attire. He doesn’t complain if the braids are mismatched or uneven, it’s the thoughts that count, and he’ll proudly wear them to court meetings. If anyone mentions them, he’d just look at them questioningly and carry about his day.
𑁍 That was perhaps the first time anyone had ever seen him displeased in a long time and for you, he’s very protective of you. He doesn’t appreciate when people bad-mouth you either to your face or behind, he doesn’t tolerate it.
𑁍 He does go about dealing with the situation calmly, too calmly, which is what scares people. He just wants to love and protect and keep you safe at all times and cherish you.
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Masterlist
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narcissarina · 11 hours
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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰
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જ⁀➴Previous chapter
Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader
Word count: 2,041
Tw: reader overthinking, stalking, an attempt kidnap.
Summary: After Leon left to his mission, you find yourself alone in an empty room and home. You invite a company over and decided to go out late at night to buy foods you crave it eat. Never thinking that dangers lurk ahead and waiting for it's prey.
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𝚅𝙸𝙸.
It has been a couple of days after Leon left, you lay like a lifeless corpse in your bed as you stare blankly at your door. Are you waiting for a miracle to happen? Waiting for him to come opening your door and greet you with a smile, “bought you something, princess.”
This room felt empty, your body feels cold—seeking his warmth. Even if been only a couple of days, you hate that you miss his presence—hate how he would delivery you your comfort drink, how he would stare back at you when you keep staring at his eyes. How you miss the warm and softness of his lips when he kiss your forehead good morning and goodnight.
You hate how you feel like shit without him, never thought if you and Leon were official, it’ll be hard when he’s out because of his mission. You’d constantly get worried, overthink and cry at the fake scenarios in your head. You were alone, your parents are out and Leon is at his mission. Well, at least the servants are here to keep you company, right?
You hate waking up to see an empty bed, you hate going to school when he’s not here to talk about his work and day, you hate seeing your driver pick you up without Leon—it felt wrong and empty, and mostly. You hate coming home to an empty house, and step on to your empty room.
You hope that he’ll come back after a week or two. Well, you can’t do much—you can’t ma him come home, he can’t use his phone while in a mission.
You check the time, it’s 10:30 in the morning. You gave all your strength to sit down and walk in this cold empty room with no warmth lingering, you take a shower that took about 30 minutes or so, you got dress and head downstairs and ate a few bites of your breakfast before heading out.
The ride was silent, you didn’t dare utter a word and only look out of the window. Your driver dropped you off as you enter school grounds with such a depressing atmosphere, you’re looming as you walk like a lifeless corpse.
Sarina’s eyes followed your figured and walk beside you, “you good?” you only hum, “you know first period just finished, right? And the profs are absent for the second and third.” You hum again, acknowledging her words as you don’t have the energy to say one single word.
“you look as dead as a corpse, what happened?” She asked, you didn’t answer and just lie down to the grassy field of the school, where most students study and have a little picnic. “Where’s Leon, by the way?” Sarina asked, looking her behind to spot your bodyguard but found none.
“Out.” You mumble, looking up to the clear blue sky, it reminds you of his eyes. You brought your fingers where you could see them and slightly reach for the sky, wanting to hold on to his gaze for a while. “Melodramatic much?” Sarina said, slapping you hand down, “I just want to say that you’re not in a TV show or that you’re a book character.”
Exhaling, you roll to your side to turn your back at your friend. “He’s out on a mission?” you nodded at her question slightly, “dear,” she coos and scoot over beside you. Her leg touching your back, “look, he’s an agent. He’s experience and the possibility of him not coming back is slim.”
Yeah, like that would make you feel better. You felt sick, what if he didn’t come back?
“There’s no class, right?” you asked in a hush weak tone, Sarina hums as she look at the sky with you. “He’ll come home,” she gave it a long good pause, “to you.” Then look down at your figure.
“You need some sleep, girl.” She then stood up and offer a helping hand which you gladly took as she helps you up. “Give me a call when you get home, or do you want me to come home with you?” she suggested, you smiled at the thought. It was getting quite lonely at home since you’re parents and Leon was out.
“I would love some company…”
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Leon arrived and starts to get to work, he puts his finger to his earpiece to talk, “what kind of item you guys want to retrieve?” he asked, a voice was heard from it, “it’s shaped like a cube, they say it’s glowing and can’t be touch with only your bare hands.” Leon nodded and investigate his area, rummaging to the wastes—how this place had turned to ruins.
“Be careful with it and stay safe from it,” Leon could hint of her tone being worried, “no worries.” He answers, “that thing is a very valuable item, but could also be a dangerous weapon.”
He walks around with caution, taking in his surroundings and pointing his gun whenever he hears sounds of metal clicking or bushes. “Got it.” Said Leon before dropping the call, he turns his head to the side and found a mansion.
“Great, a haunted mansion.” A hint of mock in his tone, “just my luck.” He said before entering and disappearing to the darkness, as the door closes—Leon was embraced by the cold air inside the mansion. Quit and the dim light only surrounds him.
Clung—
He hears a metal click, he turns and shot the blanket that’s been covered and a cockroach emerges from it, “huh.” Leon scoff and proceed to find leads where to find that stupid cube so he can go home to you, feel your hands over his hair and hear the sound of your breathing and heartbeat. Because there, he found peace and solace—where he can call his own home.
He finds himself smiling at the thought, your hand around his bicep or when you intertwined your hands to his—which he very much prefer to see every single day rather than the crimson in his hands that very reminds him of taking a life.
Leon is very much aware that in a house like this, it’s full of puzzles and mysteries that you got to solve if he wanted to retrieve the item back to the D.S.O, why does he have a gut feeling that he’s stealing something he shouldn’t?
He won’t question it, even if he did—they won’t give him an answer. As usual, always treating their best men the silent treatment when they’re onto something.
Leon brushed it off and went to the library, there’s always something hidden away in the library, right? Since in a place where knowledge is, might be where the clue is.
You went home with your friend here to keep you company, so you wouldn’t be lonely and that the house wouldn’t feel empty for a while.
Sarina has been talking about her book boyfriends and the plot of the book she just finish reading in your room, “no, girl! ‘cause like…” her words were like a mutter, you just nodded and can’t understand a thing but pretended that you’re actually listening.
It's late, you check the time and it’s already 1:11 AM. You feel kind of silly and hungry, so you want to buy some Korean ramen from the convenience store, “really? This late?” Sarina raised a brow, “you could just eat in the morning,” she groans and held your hand in your bed, “it’s dark and something might happen to you.” Sarina frowns in worry, you smiled and took your hand away, “I’ll be fine, Leon taught me new things. Don’t worry.”
You try assuring Sarina but she’s not having it, she doesn’t want to go outside since it’s dark, but she also doesn’t want to leave you be and get in danger. She has no choice but to trust your words, “get a pepper spray or a knife.” Sarina mumbled, you nodded and take your small sling bag with you, which insides contains your needs to defend yourself.
“Be quick, okay!” Sarina yelled, hugging a pillow as she flop down, worrying thoughts swirling in her head as she look out your window and saw your figure from the streetlights and began to walk to the nearest convenience store—which was only a few blocks away from your home.
Before leaving the house, your fathers trusted butler asked you where you’re going this late and that he offered you company so you would be safe. You assured him as how you assured Sarina, he could only nod and sigh in worry mixed with defeat.
“Be careful.” He says and escorting you to the door and watch your silhouette enter the store from the distance.
Store is empty, no people. Just you and the cashier, you greet her with a smile, “hello,” you spoke as she smiled and nod to you, “welcome!”
You look around and think of what kind of ramen flavor you want. You said you only craved ramen, why did you also get a corndog, rice-cake, and a chocolate drink? The cashier happily checks out your item for you before starting a conversation, “time sure flies, no?” she starts, you nodded and hand her your card. Paying by card, she took it and type in her touchscreen.
“Sure did,” you answered, pulling your sling bag closely. You felt a sudden chill down your spine and the hair at the back of your neck stood up, “be careful, I saw someone lurking outside… Waiting.” The cashier whispered, giving me a smile to not alert someone outside the store. Fuck, you don’t have your phone with you.
You whispered back, “Thank you.” And took your bags, as she waves farewell as you left the store.
The streetlight across the road was always flickering, that what makes this ten times scarier—you hate this dark, but you hate it more when someone warned you someone’s presence in the dark.
Your walk picking up speed, but trying to not alert that you’re running away. You’re speed-walking and trying your best, your hand gripping on to the plastic bag and the other on the strap of your sling bag.
Feeling someone’s presence behind you, you didn’t turn—not risking that you knew they were there and that they should know that you feel their shadow following you. Panic sets in, your hand gripping tightly to both your bag and plastic, you hear a sinister yet horrifying and distorted laugh.
You made a run for it.
You bump into someone, you thought you were safe—you were ranting and panicking to the person who you bump into, “p-please help me! Someone’s following me, and—”
“Shh, calm down, girl.” The man said, looking up to see who’s behind you. “Pretty thing like you shouldn’t wander this late at night.” The man said, but his eyes were fixated to someone that’s been following you.
You nodded, agreeing to his remark. “I know, but I was hungry and bought myself something to eat and for my friend too!” you starts to stammer and mix your words up. “I should’ve listen to my best friend.” You hard the man chuckle and nodded, his voice dropping, “yeah… you should have.”
You feel someone towering behind you, that same distorted laugh now tickles right to your ear. You went pale, colors draining from your face as you turn around to see the person who’s been in the shadows. You wanted to scream, run and call for help or use your self-defense keychain but you were to scared and frozen in place.
“Now, what made you think that I will help you?”
The doorbell rang, the butler was waiting by the door—standing there for an hour. He felt relieved when you finally came back, “finally, miss. You have made me worried and kept me waiting. I—” he cuts himself off when he open his eyes and you weren’t in front of him, suppose to be smiling because you bought food and made it safe.
He steps out, taking his flashlight out and turning from left to right. He look down and saw the plastic bags that contain the foods you just purchased, a note was attached to it.
“We would like to borrow her for a while ;)”
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Next Chapter>>>
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stveharringtn · 2 days
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You ask for kurt, I will give you kurt.
Imagine you haven't been your best self lately, maybe just stressed bc of work ro whatever, and he gets super anxious bc why are you not like super happy to be with him, do you want to break up? Did he do something wrong? He plans to do like a big date to "win you back" but everything just goes wrong, maybe he wanted to do a picnic but it started raining, or go to a amusement Park but its closed for renovation. He ends up having a breakdown bc it's as if the world is telling him that the relationship is doomed and it doesn't matter what he does hecant fix it but ofc no one wants to break up, he's just overthinking it
oh he for sure is an overthinker <333 thank you for sending something in for kurt !!! i love the requests for him <3 w; overthinking </3
kurt has been anxiously tip-toeing around you lately. he’s noticed a change in behavior and it leaves him unsettled, honestly.
the way your moods have been low around him, the agreeing to whatever he wants to do, getting easily agitated - it was clear.
you wanted to break up with kurt.
in reality, it wasn’t even that. you had been tired - taking extra shifts and working overtime for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.
and being bombarded with questions as soon as you walk home from kurt made you a little irritated, even if he didn't mean to make you feel that way.
but today was your day off and kurt had made it a mission for you both to get ready and go have a picnic, something you usually loved and were excited about, now just seemed draining when all you wanted to do was catch up on sleep.
but apparently he had some other plans.
you’d feel asleep accidentally in the car, head resting against the window, barely moving when a bump would make your head hit the window. it made kurt wince.
parking, his hand hesitantly reaches out, shaking your arm. “w-we’re here.” he says.
you stir, arms stretching above your head as you yawn, blinking as you stare out the window. he immediately gets out, walking around to your side, opening your door.
he needed to be more gentlemanly.
your brows lift slightly, slipping out of the car. he pops open the trunk, grabbing the folded blanket and lunch he had packed before stumbling towards a area he figured was nice enough.
you help him spread out the blanket before sitting down, slipping off your shoes.
he sits in front of you, giving you a nervous smile before opening the top of the basket, reaching in.
he stops when he feels a cool drop on his freckled cheek, eyes slowly lifting towards the sky. he flinches slightly when a couple more hit his skin before a down pour starts.
his shoulders slump and he stares down pathetically in the basket.
he hears your giggles, and his eyes burn with unshed tears. he rarely cries, but hearing you laugh and the downpour that soaks both of your clothes and the blanket underneath.
“you… you think t-this is funny?” he looks at you. your laughter slowly dies down and you look over at him, tilting your head as you notice his watery eyes. you sit up and frown.
“why are you-”
“you’re going to break up with me! everything is going wrong! i-i was trying to… to make up for whatever i did wrong!”
your frown deepens and your immediately crawling towards him, holding his cheeks in your hands. “honey…” the rain makes his hair stick to his forehead, you smile softly and push it back. “i’m not breaking up with you?”
“y-your not?”
you shake your head. “no. i’ve been overworked and i’m tired. that’s all. i’m sorry if i made you feel like i was going to break up with you, that wasn’t my intentions. but next time… cuddles are nice enough instead of just going out to do something, okay?”
he nods, sniffling. his nose is red from the cold.
“you know… i’ve always wanted to kiss in the rain.” your eyes peek up to the sky before looking back at you.
“oh…. we could… we could do that now.”
you smile and nod, nudging your noses against his softly, pressing your lips against his.
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the-gayest-sky-kid · 5 months
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i have normal feelings about him
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sitarawrites · 4 months
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Y/n in the multiverse of Gojo
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Synopsis : A curse brings back teen , kid and baby Gojo to the present timeline , all of them obsessed with y/n
Warning : Suggestive at end
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Gojo could swear he had never met a curse more annoying than this one . For the past 10 minutes he had been waiting for the curse to evaporate but all it did was silly dances as if mocking him. 
He was annoyed , very displeased when Yaga on such a beautiful Saturday morning when his beloved wife y/n and his students were going to have a picnic, asked Gojo to take on a mission and kill the special grade curse that was troubling the sorcerers for the past few weeks.
Thus here he was in front of a curse trying to wait until it completely evaporated after exorcising it. When Yaga told him about the curse he thought it was a very strong dangerous looking curse that could even function in broad daylight.
He was surprised to see a jelly like midget dancing and spraying some sort of perfume in the forest while singing nursery rhymes
Of course he easily exorcised it , being the strongest , but while the curse was moments away from completely evaporating he started laughing
“ You have stepped into this forest and let your guard down , I have cursed you for a day , he he he he. Get ready to share someone you don’t want to” and with that stupid laugh he evaporated completely .
 What the hell was he even talking about? Paying no attention to it, Satoru went to the car and asked Ijichi to drive him to his estate. He had to get there on time or y/n would leave him and go to Jujutsu Tech with the students and enjoy her time. 
So mean of her right ? To leave her husband of 3 years for the students. He reached his estate entering the main gate in his garden. He was surprised to see shoes outside his door.
A pair of shoes that he wore in high school that he had discarded way back and a pair of Pikachu printed sneakers that were very small that he wore when he was 5. What was going on ? 
Curious, he went inside, into the living room only to find something that was so unbelievable that he had to take his blindfold off . Y/n was standing near the sofa dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a  pink tank top with the one year old version of himself cuddling in her arms ,smiling in his sleep.
 Not only that , the five year old version of him was hugging one of her legs , sticking out his tongue towards the 18 year old version of him who was standing on her left side while he wrapped an arm around y/n’s waist. 
What was going on ? Satoru couldn’t believe his eyes. How can he see younger versions of him , wait was it the curse’s doing .Now did he realise what that curse meant , the curse brought him back from the past years and the person he had to share was you.
“ Toru , what is going on here ? I came into the living room to get the picnic basket and all I see is you from different ages” 
As soon as the word "Toru" left your lips , everyone’s ears perked up. They looked at the 28 year old Gojo and literally tightened their hold on you. 
The one year old started to cry to get your attention whereas the 5 year old started staring at Satoru with such a look of disgust as if he had just seen some piece of shit.
 The 18 year old version of him who was the cockiest of them all ; actually kissed your cheek leaving you there all shocked and red faced whereas he looked at the 28 year old with a shit eating grin.
Gojo could swear he felt his blood boil. He went straight towards you as he took the one year old from your arm and placed him on the sofa while pulling you away from the hold of the other two.
Wrapping an arm around your waist and another just around your shoulders he declared , kissing the spot that was just kissed by the 18 year old “ Stay away from my wife”. 
“ Aren’t you getting too full of yourself , Mr Oldman , that was my girlfriend before your wife . Hands off her” the 17 year old Satoru replied with  arrogance
The 5 year old declared “ No you two get away from her , I promised to marry her just a few days back” 
Even you were surprised at how those 3 were bickering over you. The three of them tried pulling you towards them . The 18 year old and 5 year old on one side and present Satoru on the other.
 You were pulled once to your left ,then to your right , then left, then right. Having enough of them you yelled “ Hands off me now , you three !”
Instantly all 3 of them released you .
All three of them felt betrayed when you went to the sofa and picked up baby Satoru who was crying and held him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder as he smirked at the other three
“ Baby Toru in my arms is Toru 1 , you little brat are Toru 2” you looked at the 5 year old
“ You are Toru 3” you looked at highschool Gojo and then at present Gojo “ you are Satoru ” 
“ No fair , I want to be Satoru ” the 5 year old yelled stomping his feet while he was pushed back by the high school one “ No I’m Satoru  because you were mine first” he declared
 28 year Gojo made a beeline towards you and again wrapped an arm around you “ Nah I am Satoru because she is my wife”
All three of them started arguing again while the little one rested in your arms. You pecked his cheek which caught the attention of the other three , jealous of him.
“ All three of you , silence ! Listen here now. What I said is final , now Satoru and i’ll be leaving and Toru 3 , 2 and 1 will stay back at home until we come back” 
Satoru flashed them his signature cocky grin as he suddenly grabbed your waist and kissed your lips , to show them that you were his. This infuriated the others and baby Satoru, displeased by him, bit his arm to which he winced in pain. 
“ You know I can just throw you in trash , you already are compact size”
“ As if y/n will let you” kid Gojo looked at you with puppy eyes “ He is bullying baby Satoru”
“ Me too “ teen Gojo who was standing near the window gave you puppy eyes too
“ All three of you just leave , go outside and wait until I come” now you were frustrated. You were supposed to reach at 10 am and it was already 9: 40 am 
“ Carry the stuff and keep it in the car , if I see anyone slacking off I’ll leave you in the middle of nowhere during the car ride” .
With that you went upstairs to take some stuff with baby Gojo in your arms , resting his head on your shoulders. He looked at the 3 and smiled as if telling them ‘ she is mine , losers’. 
 Of course he was the younger version of Satoru and if compared the most clingy version of him
“ Why does he get to be so close to y/n and not me , I’m young too” kid Gojo pouted 
“ Because you’re stupid” teen Gojo mocked him and then looked at Satoru and smirked “ Carry the stuff , I’m not doing it”
“ You dare refuse y/n , well let us see how highly she’ll think of you if she finds out your lazy ass doesn’t want to work” . He called your name “ Y/n-” 
“ Ok Ok , I’m doing it. You little brat , with me now” he looked at the 5 year old.
It seemed like Teen Gojo and kid Gojo were teaming up against him
After even more arguing it was decided where one would sit. Satoru sat on the co driver seat with baby Satoru in his lap , near you, who was driving and much to their displeasure the other two sat in the backseat
The whole drive the 3 kept arguing whereas baby Satoru kept looking at you and you only with his bright blue eyes, with a gaze of love. He kept looking at you to which Satoru smiled internally. Well it's justified that all three versions of him want you , ever since he was a child he had loved you.
He still remembers how he would look forward to clan meetings so he could meet you , even though he hated them. He was so happy when you came to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. You were the one who was by his side all this time.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when kid Gojo yelled “ Stop staring at her !” to which he replied with his signature cocky tone “ Yeah and what will you do if I don’t , you little brat”
“ Toru keep quiet , he is a kid but should you also behave like a 5 year old ?” you interrupted them , eyes still on the road
“ Oooooooooooh , Toru got scolded by his wife” teen Gojo mocked him which earned him your death glare through the rear view mirror to which he silenced. 
“ Toru number 2 , no, don’t lean out of the window” but that little brat didn’t listen. Typical behaviour of his since childhood. You pulled the window up and locked it to which he looked towards you and pouted
“ I want to look outside”
“ You can without leaning out of the window”
“ No I can’t”
“ Want me to give your sweets to Toru no. 3” to which teen Gojo grinned at kid Gojo.
“ Fine but only because you said”
“ Good” 
Satoru was observing everything. The way kid and teen and even the baby version of him acted around you. All of them were obsessed with you , which was justified because ever since he has his memory he has always loved you. 
He would purposefully try to act stronger and smarter around you and still you would never pay much attention to him. God knows how many times he went to those boring clan meetings just to be able to see your face and spend time with you. Every gift that you gave him on his birthday is still kept in a box neatly. 
 When you were at jujutsu tech he’d always try to get you to hangout with him. Almost everyone around you knew that he had a crush on you, even Yaga. Suguru and Shoko would literally get tired of him ranting about his fictional romantic scenarios with you. 
When you and Satoru started dating Shoko was like “ At least he got somewhere. I was thinking he would never be able to confess to you and you’d probably marry someone else and he’ll just spend his whole life like Snape from Harry Potter” 
As if Satoru would let that happen. Deep down he always knew that someone would steal you away from him and make you theirs if he didn't, that’s why he always wanted your attention so desperately ever since he was a child. And after losing Suguru you were the only one who understood him.
This is what he was seeing in the younger versions of himself now from the perspective of adult Satoru who is lucky enough to have you as his wife. The desperation to be yours and to make you his was visible in the younger versions of himself. If you’re not there with him he feels like a lost puppy. 
He looked at you as you were driving , your eyes on the road. You glanced at him for a brief moment and then again focused on the road
“ Is there something on my face ?”
“ Yes, its beauty”
“ You’re really cheesy”
“ You married this cheesy person” he lifted his hand to show the wedding ring
“ I don’t regret marrying a cheesy idiot like you” you smiled
Teen Gojo looked at you two. So this was his future. He was going to marry you , his beloved girlfriend. He didn’t act like it but deep inside he was really happy to come into the future and know that one day you were going to marry him.
He was relieved to know that you’d actually survive till this day in this dangerous Jujutsu world and not leave him. He made a mental note to treat you like a princess , no , like his queen so that  the future doesn’t change and you still stay by his side . Because at the end of the day all he wanted was you, to be yours.
You reach Jujutsu Tech. Kid Gojo hops from the car , his shoelaces untied now. You also got out of the car and noticed it . Crouching down in front of him you tied his shoelace. You very well remember that even at the age of 5 Satoru was not able to tie his shoe lace. You noticed the shoes he was wearing. The Pokemon printed sneakers that you gifted him on his fifth birthday.
“ These are my favourite shoes” he told you 
“ Why so ? Because it has Pokemon” you smiled at him
“ No , it's because you gifted it me . Your mother told me that you actually searched a lot of stores to get me this one. They were limited edition and hard to find but you found them for me” he smiled at you back , his cheeks visibly red.
Oh , you just remembered. When you were 5 Satoru had invited you to his birthday. You wanted to gift him something he liked and you remembered how he wanted Pokemon sneakers with Pikachu on it. You went to multiple stores with your mother and finally found them. You had gifted them to Satoru and he kissed your cheek as a thank you and you giggled.
Now that you think about it , you really never thought that he kissed you because he loved you. You were always oblivious to your own feelings and very bad at taking hints. Until you guys were practically adults you hadn’t ever taken Satoru’s flirtings and his efforts as something he did because he loved you , instead he was the guy who you had permanently kept in your friend zone.
The guy who you never thought of as a romantic interest. Now that you think about it , how much it would’ve hurt him when you’d clearly ignore his romantic attempts and keep him on hold for so many years.
You gently patted kid Gojo’s head and went to the trunk to get the basket where you found Satoru already taking it out with baby Satoru in his arm. Baby Satoru made grabby hands towards you and you took him in your arms.
You stood there admiring Satoru. Just how effortlessly handsome he looked. His black shirt perfectly showing his broad shoulders , his muscular arms flexing and his sunglasses low on his nose showing a peek of his gorgeous blue eyes. Suddenly you went towards him
“ Love , are you sure this is….” he was cut off by you grabbing his collar and putting your lips against his. Satoru was surprised for a  split second but he returned the kiss  holding you close with an arm around your waist. 
Baby Toru in your arms didn’t like it at all. You were supposed to give him attention , not that old man. He started to whine in your arms which led you to break the kiss.
“ What happened , love ? Couldn’t resist me ?” he teased
“ Can’t deny it , you’re hot” and with that you grabbed the sunscreen from the basket and went under the shade of a tree where teen Gojo had spread the blanket.
You sat there as you placed baby Gojo in your lap and applied some sunscreen on his face and arms. He started giggling and tried calling your name in his baby voice. You placed him on the blanket and when you turned to another side you saw teen Gojo sitting in front you 
“ Me too”
“ Me too, what ?” you asked
“ Put sunscreen on my face too” he demanded
“ Aren’t you old enough to do it yourself”
“ But I want you to do it” 
You sighed “ Fine , you big baby”
You took the sunscreen and gently dotted it all over his face and gently rubbed it. This was the year Satoru was the most depressed you had ever seen him. It was when Satoru matured a lot. It wasn’t much visible to others but as his girlfriend and as someone who knew him as a child , he had matured. 
You were happy that he matured but at the same time he didn’t have to. He was just a high schooler who should’ve enjoyed his youth , rather than be burdened with the duty of protecting others.
You squished his cheeks to which he got flustered. His slightly shy expression was always something that made your heart skip a beat. How could you be so oblivious in your younger days? 
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the first and second years coming. All 6 of them visibly confused when they saw 4 Gojo
“ Y/n sensei I’m not hallucinating right ?” Nobara asked
Yuji pinched Megumi’s hand “ Oii idiot , you’re supposed to pinch yourself not others”
The second years looked at the situation in front of them with an expression that even you didn’t understand. 
“ Don’t worry I’ll explain”
Satoru said while sitting down on the blanket close to you.
Teen Gojo also sat next to you whereas baby Gojo crawled into your arms and kid Gojo sat in front of you. This really overwhelmed you.
Satoru had his arm around your waist while Teen Gojo was trying to remove his arm but he didn’t budge. 
As Gojo explained the situation he had his usual smile on his face but you could tell how badly he was itching to throw all other versions of him out this universe. You found it quite funny , how he was jealous of his own younger self. 
If your younger versions came and went after Satoru you’d probably let them get close to him , just to see his flustered expression.
“ So this all happened because Gojo was reckless on his mission , nothing new” Megumi remarked. One Gojo was already annoying for him but now 3 extra Gojo , ugh he hated it. Especially that teen version of him , the cockiest of them all.
As if teen Gojo sensed his discomfort he went and patted Megumi’s head just like he did when he was a child “ Oii ! hands off me” Megumi pushed his hands off
“ You’ve grown taller Megumi , I thought you’d stay a midget” he laughed
“ I’m out” Megumi grabbed a sandwich and went somewhere else , not wanting to stay in his presence. Having to deal with not one , not two, but a total of 4 Gojo is not something he can do.
When teen Gojo turned around he saw your displeased expression and he raised his brows questioningly “ Did I do something wrong ?”
“ Well yes ! You chased away my students with your jackass behaviour” 
Teen Gojo turned around to look at them and yes , he did chase them away. Yuji left with Megumi and Nobara joined Maki , even those two not strong enough to deal with his insufferable ass. Inumaki poked a stick into Panda’s belly as Panda lay down on the grass.
“ Now go get them back and if you don’t , I’ll give this homemade Kikufuku mochi to Satoru”
 “ As much as I love you y/n , you should know you can’t cook or bake. It's me who cooks and bakes so those Kikufuku mochi probably taste……" This earned Satoru a smack on his head to which his overdramatic ass made him act as if he got a concussion from that light hit.
Well it was true though. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t cook very well and it was Satoru who did the cooking. But at least you could drive properly unlike him who was your passenger princess. God forbid he ever drives. You both would end up damaging your cars.
Finally after a lot of threatening from you to make them behave you brought all your students back.All of them sat on the blanket while snacking on the delicacies that were prepared by you , actually by the chef in your house but it doesn’t harm anyone to say that you made it , right ?
Almost everyone felt sleepy after eating like they have been hungry for years. Yuji felt sleepy and leaned on Nobara and Nobara leaned on Megumi. Megumi shifted causing both of them to fall on the blanket but they were too sleepy to react.
Panda laid on the blanket flat and on his belly slept Maki , Inumaki and kid Gojo. Baby Gojo slept in the big picnic basket that was empty.
You felt sleepy too . You leaned against teen Gojo. His face got red , even though you were his girlfriend back in his timeline he couldn’t stop feeling that way. He was going to caress your hair until adult Gojo pulled your head gently over his shoulder.
“ Brat , you already have your gf , don’t you think you’re cheating on her ?” Gojo remarked.
He knew that this statement of his would definitely make teen Gojo back off. Gojo knew himself very well. Any action that would make you question his loyalty , he wouldn’t do that. 
It actually worked and teen Gojo did back off but in his defence he said “ I’m not cheating on her , they’re literally the same person. I’d never cheat on y/n. I love her way too much to ever hurt her”
The sunlight directly falling on your face irritated you so you laid down on the blanket and buried your face in Satoru’s lap , which made both of them smile. Satoru stroked your hair gently.
“ Take care of her ok ? She might have been too oblivious to understand your feelings earlier but now that you guys are dating , she’d not leave you till the end. Yeah she might be less clingy compared to you but her love is true. Just make sure to stay by her side. She might not say it often but she loves us way more than we think”
“ I will , you don’t have to tell me. I love her very much and I’ll always take care of her. I will also marry her when the right time comes. You don’t have to worry.  But will I have memories of this future trip ?”
“ Probably not , because it can alter the timeline which is not good for any of us”
Teen Satoru hesitated a bit but Satoru noticed his expression which made him finally ask his question
“ Did Suguru change ? Did he come back to us ?”
Satoru smiled sadly “ I can’t tell you that , but wherever he is , he's at least in peace”
Satoru laid on the blanket cuddling you into his chest , closing his eyes. He couldn’t tell him that he’d have to kill Suguru in the future . It would be too painful for him to bear. Satoru remembers how he couldn't sleep for many days after that incident. His 18 year old self would get affected even more deeply .
Teen Gojo also laid next to you. 
“ I’ll always be by your side” he whispered before dozing off.
After sometime Baby Gojo got up , searching for you . He got out of the basket and crawled towards you , getting between your arms as he also fell asleep again.
Kid Gojo got off Panda and seeing all others near you he slept close to you hugging your leg.
Everyone was asleep for hours. Well the jujutsu world is stressful and days like this are probably one of the few days where one can relax.
You felt the weather getting slightly cold and woke up. The sky was in a beautiful shade of red and orange , it was probably evening.
You looked around and didn’t see the other Gojos.
Satoru also woke up as he stretched . He looked at your sad face and noticed that the younger versions of him were gone.
“ Looks like they went back”
“ But I liked their presence. It was as if I got all those beautiful memories of our youth back in real life” you looked at him and smiled sadly
Satoru hugged you “I’m still here you know”
You hugged him back tightly “ Don’t you dare try to leave me”
You two stayed in that position , your hug not even loosening slightly
“ Now as much I’d like to be hugged by you , you need to realize that your hugs are very strong and I might break a rib”
" Then break one , you can do that much for your wife"
You pulled back seeing the others wake up.
You got up from the blanket and stretched as everyone else packed the stuff back into the basket.
Looking at the sunset and everything so peaceful around you , you wished for everything to stay just like how it is. Your students and your husband , safe and happy.
Everyone got back to their respective dorms while you and Satoru went to your car.
“ You look sleepy , shall I drive? Don’t worry I’m not that much of a bad driver , that you think”
“ And I’m not that much of a bad cook that you think” you tossed him your car keys as you sat in the co driver seat
Satoru sat on the driver seat and buckled your seat belt while leaning close to you “ Well you just need some tutoring from your husband with great culinary skills”
“ Just say that you want to fuck me in the kitchen”
He pulled your cheeks “ Naughty girl ! Such talks only in the bedroom”
With that he started the engine and started driving. You were halfway to your home when he said“ I love you y/n”
He glanced at you and found you asleep. Well it was tiring for you to deal with 3 menaces today. 
“ Sleep well love” he said with a smile driving back home.
( you guys reached home safely , you and the car both safe )
Meanwhile Teen Gojo in his timeline
“Y/n likes Tatsu from the anime ‘The way of the househusband’ . I must also learn how to cook for her since she can’t cook” said Gojo while chopping some onions 
“ See your mean comments everyday made me cry Y/n” he said as he wiped his tears
“ You idiot , wash them in cold water before cutting and who said I can’t cook !” you yelled
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Part 2 Gojo in multiverse of y/n
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3
im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭
ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k
cw for sexual harassment
"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 
"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 
"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 
"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 
"Top of your thigh." 
"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 
"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 
"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 
"Do you want my jacket?" 
"Don't cover it up, toots." 
You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 
"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 
"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 
Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 
"We were just messing around," one says. 
"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 
"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."
His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 
"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 
Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 
"You okay?" he asks. 
"I'm fine." 
"You sure?" His voice fries. 
"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 
Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 
"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 
"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 
"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 
"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 
"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 
"You shouldn't have to." 
"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 
"Right now?" he asks dryly. 
"Are you handsome right now?" 
"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 
"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 
"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 
You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 
He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 
"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 
His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 
"Just a small token," you say. 
He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 
"You sure?" 
He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 
He pulls you closer. 
You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 
"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 
He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 
"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 
"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 
"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 
4K notes · View notes
nctsworld · 7 months
Text
fever pitch
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✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
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Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
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With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
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On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
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The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
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After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
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Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
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As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
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EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
4K notes · View notes
theflowerrooms · 7 months
Note
i have a request (hopefully for some smut) 🙈 youve met Eddie because he was your exs dealer! You want to cop on your own but your shy and don’t know what your doing!
you lost your V card to your ex, and he was a selfish asshole to you, and Eddie could always tell
PLEASEEE and thank You 🥰
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{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {main masterlist}
Treat you right
Eddie Munson x inexperienced!reader
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Summary: you buy weed and smoke it with Eddie for the first time, he doesn’t know you but he knows your ex. He knows how bad he was and he knows how good he could be for you.
wordcount:
Warnings: drug use, smut, cursing, pet names, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), praise, Eddie’s super sweet but also super cocky, dacryphilia, marking, slight dubcon? they’re both high
Thank you so much for requesting baby <3 I loved writing this sm
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You exhaled shakily. Phone in one hand and a piece of paper with a number and Eddie’s last name written sloppily across it. You got lucky, your boyfriend- ex boyfriend Andrew left his dealer’s number on your bedside table. You’d met Eddie on multiple occasions, you really liked him. He was sweet, funny, respectful, incredibly charming. You reminded yourself that as you nervously dialled his number.
“Hello? Munson residence.” You heard his boyish voice from the other side of the line and already you were smiling to yourself.
“Hey Eddie, um, this is-” He cut you off. “I know who this is doll, I could never forget a voice as sweet as yours. What can I do for you?” He chimed and you giggled, blushing.
Andrew really sucked, he never spoke to you so sweet.
You chewed your lip as you tried to form a sentence in your head that wouldn't embarrass yourself. "Um- I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. I'd really like to buy from you, please." You spoke, careful with your words so you wouldn't sound like a complete idiot.
"Awe- y'calling for Andrew?" He asked, as if it wasn't obvious enough that you didn't know what you were doing.
"No- no, um, we broke up a little while ago he uh..." You trailed off, you didn't wanna over share and annoy Eddie. "He left your number at my house and I figured, y'know, I wanna buy some weed- please." You tried and failed to hold in your nervous giggle, you couldn't hear him smiling on the other side of the line at how cute he found you.
"Alright doll, tell you what. Since it's your first time buying from me I'll give you a pretty big discount, just let me know when you're free... and you can meet me, hm?" He offered, voice grainy through the phone.
You nodded, "Sure! I'm free whenever, um, where do you want me to meet you?"
✽-
  The air was chillier than you'd expected, you suddenly regretted forgoing a jacket, and wearing a skirt. You tapped your nails softly against the picnic table where Eddie had asked to meet. You were a bit early, but you didn't mind waiting, and you definitely didn't want to leave him waiting, so you didn't mind sitting there.
  You shivered, and then startled, squeaking as Eddie came up behind you, quiet as ever, and placed his jacket over your shoulders. You blushed and he grinned, rounding the table to sit across from you.
  "Fancy seeing you here, sorry for spookin' you doll." His smile didn't leave his face. The metal of his lunchbox clanged as he put it between you two on the table before opening it. "So. Do you just want what I usually gave to you guys?" He asked, eyes kind and welcoming. You never understood the things you heard people say about Eddie, the things Andrew said about him behind his back.
  "Um..." You trailed off, blushing again. Of course because you always went with your ex to buy weed from Eddie, he'd assumed you smoked it with Andrew. "How- how much did Andrew get usually?"
  You tilted your head and he tilted his in return. "You didn't smoke with him?" He asked and you shook your head. "Have you smoked ever?" You shook your head again.
  "Andrew never let me smoke his stuff. Told me if I wanted to smoke with him I had to find my own dealer, get my own weed." You chewed your lip anxiously as you explained. "And the only people I knew who sell it are you and Tommy Hagan. I don't trust Tommy so..." Eddie nodded, following along as you spoke.
  "And you trust me?" He asked, a lilt of surprise in his tone. You nodded and he smiled. "Well. My van is parked just down that trail over there, let's get out of the cold, hm?"
✽-
  You laughed loudly as Eddie tried, and failed to blow rings with the smoke he exhaled from his joint. You'd never been high before now, and you were loving it. Eddie coached you through it, showed you how to take a hit off of the joint, held it to your lips as you took your first inhale, then rubbing your back through the coughing fit it induced. He even let you drink his water when your throat grew dry.
  Now you sat across from him in the back of his van leaning against the cool metal wall. Your laugh triggered Eddie's laugh and you both doubled over in an intense fit of giggles.
  "I never understood why Andrew laughed so much when he got high." You giggled through your words, you understood now.
  Eddie laughed in response. He coughed and reached out grabbing your ankle, "What uh- what happened with Andrew? Not that it's any of my business but uh- I don't know. I'm nosey." He laughed, straightening himself as he awaited your response.
  You chuckled bitterly under your breath at the thought of your break up. "He sucked at sharing his weed but um, he was great at sharing his time, and his attention... his dick." You snickered and grimaced, watching Eddie's face match yours.
  He scoffed and leaned his head against his shoulder. "That's awful. I'm sorry- what an idiot." He squeezed your ankle in his hand. "I don't see how he could ever hurt you like that... take you for granted like that." He sighed.
  His words had you blushing. "Yeah well, it's okay, I'm mostly over it.  I know that there are other guys out there- better guys." You made eye contact with Eddie for the first time that night, and suddenly the energy of the whole night changed.
  He nodded slowly, mouth just slightly agape. You'd noticed how pretty Eddie was long before you and Andrew broke up. It was silent for a moment, Eddie's hand moved from your ankle to your calf, long fingers wrapping around the underside of it, thumb stroking your skin. "Yeah... there are plenty of guys out there who'll treat you better. You deserve to be treated right." He proclaimed, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Your throat went dry.
  Your legs relaxed, inching apart, calf resting fully in his hand. "I wanna be treated right." Your voice sounded so small and shy. You'd blame it on the weed.
  Eddie's eyebrows rose slightly his pupils wide and eyes glossy. "Let me treat you right." His voice was both domineering and pleading all in one and it filled you with a blooming heat.
  You couldn't find your words, just nodding eagerly, desperately. He didn't hesitate to move onto his knees, leaning over you and gently pulling you to meet his lips by your chin. His lips were warm against yours, you basked in it.
  His tongue glided over your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips before he entered them. It was a beautiful contrast compared to how Andrew would just shove his tongue in your mouth before you were ready, or willing.
One of your hands rested on the back of Eddie's neck lightly, holding him close to you while your other hand gently stroked his jaw. His hands found refuge on your thighs, holding the backs of them gently as he maneuvered his way between them. He didn't grind against you or anything, just kissed you, with his thumbs dragging tenderly against the goosebump ridden skin of your legs that were pressing against his hips. He was only willing to go at your pace, which you appreciated.
  He kissed you until your hips bucked up slightly, panty-covered clit bumping against the bulge in his jeans. The whimper you let out encouraged him to push his hips down to meet yours, he could feel your heat through the denim between you two.
  With the feeling of him rubbing against you, your let your head fall back as you whined softly. The sweet sounds you let out had his cock throbbing, and he soon found himself mouthing at the sensitive skin at your neck. "It okay if I leave marks?" He asked, his voice was dark but his words were kind, and you knew he'd listen if you said no. You also knew that you'd let him do anything to you if he kept making you feel good like this.
  "Yes-" and like that, you could feel him pull the skin below your pulse point past his lips, sucking there softly until he released your skin from his mouth and peppered kisses around it.
  You sighed at the cool air on your slick skin, you sighed as he continued kissing down your neck, sucking another mark just above the collar of your shirt. You looked forward to seeing the bruises he'd leave behind.
  You could feel his breath against your collarbone, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, thumb playing with the hem of your shirt. Before he could even ask you to, you pulled back from him and pulled your shirt off.
He let out a heavy exhale as his eyes fell on your chest, his fingers twitching beside you. “You can take it off.” You spoke shyly, referring to your lace bralette. Your cheeks burned as you felt Eddie’s hand glide up your back, it only took a few seconds before you felt the clasp open and he was helping you remove your bra.
As your bralette fell to the floor of floor of his van next to your shirt, you heard Eddie’s breath hitch. “You are so damn beautiful.” Your heart was racing at his words, racing at how sincere he sounded. You weren’t used to this kind of attention and you were thriving from it
Quickly, Eddie’s tongue found your chest, flicking over your right nipple before he closed his lips around it, sucking softly. His fingers found your other nipple, gently pinching and rolling it until it hardened. The new sensation had your back arching, pushing yourself against him more. Eddie loved the noises you were making because of him, for him.
Eddie’s mouth left a trail of kisses from your breast and down your stomach. His bottom lip pressed against the band of your skirt and he held the fabric between his fingers. “Can I take this off of you darling?” He asked as he tugged lightly. You nodded your head but he didn’t move, “Words, baby.” He encouraged you to speak.
“Yes, please.” Your voice wavered with both nervousness and excitement. The eager smile on his face before he pulled your skirt down had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.
When he pulled your skirt down, your panties came unexpectedly with them, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not but neither you nor Eddie were complaining. What you really didn’t expect, was the audible moan Eddie let out at the sight of your naked body.
You began to sit up slightly, assuming Eddie would want you to ride him, but before you could get up all the way, Eddie was already laying between your legs, hands on your thighs. “What are you doing?” You asked softly and he tilted his head in confusion, tearing his eyes away from your cunt to meet your gaze.
He pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh. “I wanna taste you, that okay?” He asked, his eyes were blown out with lust, cheeks flushed red from arousal; still you knew he wouldn’t go any further if you told him it wasn’t okay.
“Taste me?” You asked, you weren’t sure what he meant. He smirked kindly, another kiss to your thigh. You were grateful he didn’t make you feel embarrassed for not knowing what that meant.
He inched closer to you, you could feel his breath against your opening and it made you dizzy. “I wanna taste your sweet pussy darling, make you feel good. I want you to cum on my mouth sweetheart.” He rasped, laying his head against your thigh. “What? Andrew never use his mouth on you pretty girl?” He was joking, but was both disappointed and pleased when you nodded your head, confirming his statement. He was disappointed that a gorgeous girl like you hasn’t experienced that before, but he was beyond pleased that he would be the first one to get to taste you. If he played his cards right, he’d be the only one.
You spread your legs for Eddie and relaxed back, his large palm squeezed your thighs as he held them open and immediately caught your clit in his mouth, sucking it gently, flicking his tongue over it, forcing moan after moan from your lips.
Andrew had never gone down on you before, despite the fact that you’d gone down on him every time he’d ask or even just every time you felt like making him feel good. He’d never return the favour however. You didn’t spend much time thinking about that- or any time at all. All you we’re capable of focusing on was Eddie and how good he made you feel.
Eddie thrusted his hips against the ground, sucking harder on your clit and moaning against it. Your thighs shook against your hand and you couldn’t speak. You wanted to tell him how good you felt, you wanted to let him know how good he was doing, but all you could manage was to moan and whine as you felt your stomach get tight.
He moved his hand off of your thigh and pushed two fingers inside of you slowly. There was a small stretch, but it didn’t hurt, if anything it felt fantastic.
He wanted to fuck you tonight, and so he’d make sure you were ready to take him, he didn’t want you hurting. Simultaneously, he sucked on your clit and pushed his fingers repeatedly against your g-spot. He revelled in the sensation of you clenching down on his fingers. He looked up at you from between your legs, your stomach flexing and your eyebrows pinched together as you moaned, his cock leaked precum into his boxers.
“Eddie-” you yelped his name, hips jumping and pressing down against his mouth. You could feel an impending orgasm, and you anticipated it with excitement. You’d never had an orgasm given to you by someone else.
He could feel you getting closer, he moaned loudly against your clit and you moaned even louder than him, yelling his name as you came. Your thighs shook and your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging lightly as your eyes teared up from searing hot pleasure.
Eddie rubbed your clit slowly as you came down from your orgasm. He moved up, peppering kisses over your cheeks until you came back to yourself, giggling. “I wanna see you, please.” You whispered, tugging lightly at his shirt.
He nodded, “Anything for you.” He had a sing-song tone that made you smile, and you watched hungrily as he pulled his shirt off. You didn’t have much time to admire his toned body, pretty tattoos, you were distracted almost immediately by the sound of his belt buckle.
Soon, you and Eddie were both naked in the back of his van, the windows of which were already growing steamy.
He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily, hips slotting between your legs once again, only this time no clothes were separating you. “You gonna let me take care of you baby? Show you what it’s like to get fucked by someone who knows how to make a girl feel as good as she deserves?” He nudged his nose against yours, you were growing dizzy with lust and need for him.
You threw your head back as you felt the weight of Eddie’s cock slide against your soaking wet cunt. “Yes, please- please fuck me Eddie.” He loved the way your voice shook.
Within seconds, his balls were pressed flush against you, cock deep inside, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was both thicker and longer than Andrew, not by much, but still the difference was enough to have you sputtering.
“Oh god-” You moaned loudly, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he began to fuck you.
He only laughed softly, “Close, it’s actually Eddie.” He teased, kissing your jaw as he hiked your legs up to rest on his hips as he fucked you harder, perfectly hitting your g-spot with every thrust.
You reached down to rub your clit but Eddie knocked your hand away with his own, rubbing it for you. He grinned wickedly at your broken moan, cock throbbing inside you at the sight of the thick tears pouring down your face. “Poor girl, so sweet and messy. Ever been fucked like this before? Andrew fuck you this good?” He asked.
You could only shake your head and cry for a moment before you found your words. “Never- never been fucked this good. You’re- you’re so g-good, Eddie.” You moaned, cunt clamping down on his cock.
Each of you were both growing closer, your hands and legs shaking, Eddie’s hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy. His head fell down to your shoulder and you rested your cheek against his hair. “Cum inside me, p-please.” You whimpered.
He moaned in response, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The feeling of him cumming inside you and playing with your clit had you arching your back and screaming his name.
You both rested in the back of his van for a while, just holding each other. Heavy breathing, sweat slicked skin, and gentle kisses. “Thank you.” You whispered.
“Thank you.” He answered immediately. “I’m sorry he didn’t take care of you the way you deserve.” He kissed you again.
After you both got dressed again, you grew shy, and Eddie only found it endearing pulling the smile from you that he desperately wanted to see. “I’ll give you a ride home doll, ‘n when you need, or want anything, you give me a call.”
Of course you agreed, thanked him. And as he drove you home and you stared at him with hearts in his eyes, you were so grateful for Andrew. Grateful for him leaving Eddie’s number at your house.
4K notes · View notes
komitomi · 9 months
Note
Hihii!!
Idk if your reqs are open but could you plsplspls make a part 2 of "just ask" with childe, thoma and scara?Thank uuu :3 If they're closed just ignore :)
Oh my god yes! I absolutely thought of doing childe and scara in the first part but I wasn't able to cause of the images limit, I wanted my blog to look pretty HELP, BUT HERE IT IS ALONG WITH THOMA <3
“Just ask.” — childe, thoma, scara (separate) x afab!f!reader
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;; if you feel yourself wanting to community label this, please kindly just block me instead, it's fucking stupid how people ignore the warnings.
NSFW WARNING, MDNI: afab!f!reader, p in v sex, clit stimulation (childe, scara), orgasm denial (childe, scara), teasing (thoma), cock riding (childe), scara is extremely mean, tiddy succin (thoma), dacryphilia(?)(scara), cumming inside (childe, thoma), p*rn without much plot, sexual tension, missionary (thoma), squirting (scara), reader is too shy to ask, I'm not sure if this counts as dubcon because the reader isn't vocal at first but only consents through her actions but be warned. + not proofread cause we die like men. // part one.
By clicking read more you are consenting to view this explicit content, you are responsible for your own experience.
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CHILDE is always gone from home most of the time due to his work with the fatui harbingers, so when he's back you only ever spend time doing normal things like going out on picnics, dates etc, well that left both him and you sexually frustrated yet you can't admit it cause you felt too shy.
You don't know how long it has been since you both had sex, but it was probably too long since each of his small innocent touches is enough to set you alight, the way he lays his head on your lap had you wishing you can't sit over his face.
He noticed, the way you would squirm, gasp at little touches, so what did he decide to do when he noticed? tease you even more, those seemingly innocent touches turned more inappropriate as time passed by, his arm 'accidentally' rubbing against your nipple, the way his hands trail up your skirt from time to time, when you sit on his lap and feel his member rubbing against your ass, but he never acts on it unless you ask.
“C-childe.” you let out a breathy gasp when you feel his fingers rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, so close to your core but so far away, “What's wrong?” he says in a teasing tone, no fucking way he's choosing to be ignorant in this situation.
“I- childe please.” you turn your head to the side to look at him behind you, but he simply rests his head in the crook of your neck and kisses you “please what? what do you want?” his kisses trail down to your shoulder, you shudder when you feel his hand brush against your clothed cunt.
“P-please stop teasing— I can't take it anymore.” you whimper when you feel his hand pushing your panties aside and drags his finger over the length of your core, “what do you want me to do?” he says lowly, in your ear, trying to contain himself when he feels how wet you are, fighting the urge to just turn you around having your legs wrap around him and bury himself in your cunt.
You let out an airy moan when you felt his fingers pressing on your clit, slowly rubbing circles, “I- I want you– inside me.” you manage to say in between gasps, you feel his fingers speed up, rubbing even faster, you felt your stomach tighten, but before it could snap childe quickly retreats his fingers making you whine, he quickly changes your position, having you face him as he unbuttons his pants before giving his hardened cock a few pumps and lining it up against your entrance.
He guides you down it by your hips and you hold on to his shoulders panting, as you seat yourself on his cock, slowly you start to move up and down, bouncing on his cock, his hands remain on your hips as he thrusts upwards into your cunt, trying to set a rhythm. You feel your stomach tighten once again as the tip of his cock hits a certain spot inside you.
One of his hands travels up your body to grope your tits, twirling and flicking your nipple causing you to whimper at the sensation, “Haa— fuck I've waited so long for this.” childe says in between thrusts, you felt yourself near your edge causing you to grab his shoulders for support and set your own rhythm, making his dick hit the sensitive spot inside you.
“F-fuck baby— you gonna cum?” he asks and you nod, “Y-yeah fuck!” you shakily say, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock.” as soon as those words leave his mouth that coil that has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps causing you to moan out loud.
Childe thrusts into you a few more times before he comes undone inside you, painting your walls white with his cum, he groans as he rides his orgasm out watching you scrunch your nose due to overtimulation.
“Speak up next time okay?”
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THOMA is just as flustered as you are, he knows what you want but he's shy to speak up as well, he wants to bury his cock deep inside your cunt but he can't do that, not until you ask him to, not until you tell him that you want it.
And just like childe he decides to feign innocence, yet his way is different, he kept those accidental touches fairly innocent, and it made you more frustrated because you couldn't understand whether he wants to touch you, maybe you were the only one feeling horny from them? it made things worse, you now felt even more embarrassed.
And he caught on, so he decided to become a little bit more bold, his hands lingered a little bit long on you, whenever he would wrap his arm around your shoulder his hand grazed your breast, or when you would hug him he would have you tightly pressed against him, feeling your breasts against his chest, you felt his hard cock rub against you whenever he held you that tightly, so now you knew.
And you started to become impatient.
When was he going to touch you properly? bring you relief from all this pent up sexual frustration, you knew you just had to ask but you were too shy for your own good, and it wasn't until one of the nights, when you finally decided to ask.
“Thoma, I've had enough.” you said, which made him stop his current actions, which were literally just him rubbing himself up against you, he paused his movements, and slight panic began to settle in, were you breaking up with him?
Before it could get worse, you turned to face him, grabbing him by his cheeks, before kissing him passionately, he realises what you had meant and reciprocates your actions by wrapping his hands around you waist, pulling you close.
You pull away panting, “P-please just take me already.” you say, breathing deeply, “Take you where?” thoma teases which makes you groan, “You know what I mean.” you look at him and he shakes his head, “I have no idea.” he continues to tease you, wanting to hear exactly what you wanted.
“Archons— for fucks sake thoma, fuck me.” you say frustrated, and that's all it took for thoma to finally snap, he quickly picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, throwing you on the bed as he undid his pants. You did the same, you removed your clothes, trying to get them off as quickly as possible.
Thoma grabs you by your ankle and pulls you towards the edge of the bed, where he stands, he lines himself against your slit, rubbing his cock against your clit, “Fuck— I wanted this so so much.” he gasps when he pushes his cock inside you.
You moan in pleasure, your cunt was already wet, he didn't even need to prepare you. All that pent up sexual frustration for weeks had driven you insane.
Thoma slowly picks up the pace, parting your legs wider, his thrusts were desperate, needy, and fast, he had been wanting this too, how long had he had to control himself? He groans when you clench around him. He could die like this and he'd be happy.
The bed shakes as he thrusts into you, your breasts bouncing up and down, he grabs one in his hand before leaning down to take it in his mouth, suckling on the skin and biting it as he ruts into you, you grip his hair when his tip hits a rough part inside of you.
“F-fuck! Yes there— oh archons!” you moan as his tip continuously hits the spot, making you arch your back and rut your hips against him as well, all while he's focused on your tits, “I'm cumming! T-thoma I'm cumming!” you inform him, feeling the band in your core tighten and snap, causing your cunt to flutter around his cock which makes him moan with your nipple in his mouth.
That made him come undone as well, shooting ropes of his cum right inside you, he didn't have the time to pull out, but you didn't mind, he pulled back immediately, pulling his cock out from your cunt and watching his cum drip down, mixed with your juices as your cunt fluttered.
“Fuck, I wanted this so badly.” he whimpers.
“Then why didn't you ask?” you say.
“I wanted you to ask first.”
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SCARA is fucking mean, he's so mean towards you, he knows immediately what you want but won't give you it, not until he's satisfied, he knows how shy it makes you, how embarrassed you get, how your expression changes, yet he revels in it.
He will touch you, making you think he won't make you ask because he's aware, oh he doesn't want to make you ask actually, he wants to make you beg for it, everytime he fingers you, eats you out, he stops right when you were about to come undone, earning a frustrating grunt from you.
You thought it would pass and he would eventually make you cum, but he doesn't, he never lets you finish, constantly denying you of your orgasms until you ask, no, beg him to fuck you and make you cum.
“Sc-scara please—!” you yelp, gripping his hair and shoving his face back into your cunt, he stopped his ministrations when you were about to cum, which lead to this moment now, he shut his lips tightly refusing to do anything else, his gripped your hand, which was gripping his hair, tightly, causing you to loosen the hold as he pulled your hand away and crawling on top of you.
He tuts mockingly, “You know darling, this could be easily over if you just asked.” he says and you swallow thickly, “But you won't, will you? You are so stubborn.” he places a sharp kiss against your neck, causing you whimper.
“P-please.” you cry out, “Please what hm?” he pulls away, looking at your face and your expression, the way you bite your lips in preparation, the way your eyebrows furrow as you feel your face heat up at the thought.
He sighs, and tries to get off of you but you grab him and he's taken aback by surprise, and you look him straight in the eyes before you swallow, and push away all the shyness that you felt creeping up your body. “Fuck me.” you whisper.
“Sorry, what did you say? Couldn't hear you.” he says feigning, 'fucking son of a bitch.' you curse inwardly, before once again asking him, “Just fuck me.” you say loudly this time, which causes him to smirk.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks and you nod, frantically shaking your head up and down, “You want me to make you feel good? Bury my cock deep inside of you?” he asks and you nod, “Very well, beg.”
what?
He wants you to beg, and you look at him, his annoying smirk never once having left his face, oh how you wanted to slap it off his face, he lined his cock against your entrance before shoving it in roughly, causing you to groan at the burning intrusion.
You thought maybe he changed his mind, but a moment passes and your cunt adjusts to his cock, but he doesn't move, in fact, he looks at you, waiting for you. You swallow thickly, “P-please fuck me.” you say with your eyes closed.
“No no, look at me, look at me when you beg, tell me how you want me to make you feel good.” he cooes and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, before his slowly pulls his cock out of your cunt and thrusts it into you once again.
“F-fuck- please, please— please make me feel good, want you to make me cum around your cock.” you beg, fighting the urge to close your eyes, tears welling up in your eyes as you cry from embarrassment, he smiles.
“There we go.” he says triumphant, before he thrusts into you roughly, setting a pace at such a brutal speed, your face contorting as he shoves his cock inside and out roughly, he finds joy in your discomfort, trying to adjust to the rhythm.
He pushes your knees to your chest, spreading your legs wider and making him go deeper, he thrusts continue to be violent and rough, it took you few moments to adjust to the rhythm, but when you did, you found pleasure coursing through your veins.
His hand came to stimulate your clit, scooping the slick that leaked from your hole upwards and coat it with it before he rubbed harsh and fast circles.
He moaned when he felt you clench around him, making him go feral and even more faster than he already was, he rubbed fast short circles unto your clit while his cock found your gspot and continued to hit it roughly, the double stimulation drove you crazy.
You felt a coil in your stomach starting to form, you moaned and whimpered below him, before you can process what was happening you came undone, a painful pleasure ripped through you and you felt something wet drip down to the sheets, scara groaned at the sight before he finished with a loud moan as well.
“Fucked you so good that it had you squirting.” he said with a mean chuckle and you felt shy, you just squirted. Of course you did, how could you not? All the pent up orgasms he denied you of was too frustrating.
He propped down next to you on bed and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, gestures like this always confuse you, he's so mean vocally and when he fucks you, but gentle and soft sometimes. You get a mix of everything. But hey you aren't complaining.
“I liked seeing you beg.” he says cheekily, and you look up at him with a playful annoyed face.
“I want you to beg often.”
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6K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 3 months
Text
The Code
Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 
Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 
A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.
6.2k words
Masterlist 
This must be the spot. 
You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 
Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 
A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 
“Hey, you leave me a note?” 
He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 
“Yeah, you OK?” 
He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 
“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 
“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 
He laughs, tipping his head back. 
“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 
Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 
You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 
After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 
“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 
“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 
“So, you got something for me?” 
Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.
Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 
“For you? Of course.” 
He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 
“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 
He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 
“Twenty?” 
Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 
“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”
You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.
“Such a gentleman.” 
Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 
“Here, twenty.” 
He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 
“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 
“Sure, why not.” 
You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 
“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 
“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 
“So, you're new? When did you start?” 
“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 
“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 
“Oh really? What did you do?” 
You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 
“What didn't I do?” 
He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 
You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 
The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 
“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 
He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 
“Huh?” 
“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 
He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 
Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 
“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 
“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 
Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 
“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 
“Yeah?” 
It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 
His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 
“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 
Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 
Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 
Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 
The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 
It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 
“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 
Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 
“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 
You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 
“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 
It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 
“Are you- for real?” 
You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 
“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 
“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 
“Swear? On what?” 
“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 
He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 
“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 
“Alright then, scouts honour?” 
“You were a girl scout?” 
“No.” 
He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 
“I swear on Ozzy.” 
Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 
“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 
You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 
“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 
Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 
“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 
You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 
********************
He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 
In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 
Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 
You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 
“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 
“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 
“And your last name is…?” 
“Henderson.”
“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 
“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 
“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.
“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 
You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 
“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 
“The one and only, sweetheart.” 
“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 
“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 
Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 
“Dustins gonna kill me.” 
Eddie shakes his head. 
“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 
“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 
Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 
“If you want me to go-” 
“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 
“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 
“Nope. You're too hot.” 
Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 
“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 
“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 
Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 
“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 
You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 
“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 
Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 
Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 
“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 
You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 
As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 
“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 
All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 
He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 
You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 
Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 
He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 
This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 
It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 
Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 
He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 
“Please, please, please-” 
The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 
Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 
Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 
He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 
He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 
His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 
“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 
“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 
“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 
He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 
“Fuck, you are a dream.” 
His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 
“Bedroom?” 
“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 
He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 
In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 
Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 
“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 
“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 
Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 
You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 
Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 
His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 
“Fuck stop stop, please.” 
He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 
“You OK there champ?” 
“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 
He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 
Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 
Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 
You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 
“No. Leave them on.” 
It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 
He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 
“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 
“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 
In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 
“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 
His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 
“Do you have protection?”
“I'm on the pill, is that-” 
It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 
Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 
“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 
The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 
Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 
“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 
Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 
“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 
Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 
The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 
Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 
Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 
It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.
“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 
“Please cum in me.”
Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 
“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 
Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 
“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 
You laugh, kissing his cheek.
“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 
“I can take care of you-”
“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 
You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 
Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 
“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 
“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 
Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 
Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 
You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 
“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 
Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 
“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 
Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 
Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 
“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 
“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 
“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 
“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 
“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 
You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 
“Then stay. Stay with me.” 
Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 
“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 
Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 
For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 
********************
Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 
Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 
He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 
So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 
That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 
Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 
“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 
Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 
“Sup, Dust Buster!” 
Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 
“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 
“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 
“Until you were in my fucking house???” 
“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 
‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 
“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 
“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 
Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 
“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 
“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 
“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 
The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 
“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 
Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 
“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 
“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 
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saetoru · 10 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。10:07 PM — AL-HAITHAM.
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al-haitham asks you to marry him before he even realizes himself what he’s just asked. it’s a random tuesday night. you’re in worn out pajamas, he’s still got slight damp hair from his shower, and the both of you are curled up on the couch.
you’re rubbing his chest and his arm’s wrapped around your waist when you murmur, “we should get a place with more windows.”
he raises a brow, turns to look at you and scan over the side of your face. it’s familiar, the way you look so pretty under the dim light, on the same couch against the same walls in the same living room. but it’ll still feel like the first time even if it’ll be his last.
“is the design of our current home not up to your standards?” he asks, making you giggle.
“it’s nice,” you hum, “but it needs more windows. and a bigger kitchen. and maybe a backyard.”
“this home is conveniently close to our place of work,” he argues, fingers creeping up from under your shirt and rubbing circles into your hip. it’s soft—your skin, it’s warm and familiar under the rough pad of his thumb. it’s a touch that’s routine enough that you don’t squirm in surprise anymore when he finds your bare skin, and then he wonders for a moment if there are other routines waiting for him.
maybe he’ll watch you wait for him through the window as he comes home. maybe you’ll dance in the kitchen as coffee’s being made. maybe there’ll be picnics in the backyard as the sun sets. maybe, when you have a new house but the same home, he’ll find more of you in the walls and the corners of every room.
“haitham,” you huff, “a little extra walk won’t kill you. we should find our dream home.”
“our?” he asks after a moment, like he’s shocked. you only nod against his chest.
“of course, silly,” you chuckle, “i certainly won’t be house shopping with the general mahamatra—”
“we should get married,” he blurts.
“what?”
“my grandmother left a ring,” he instantly explains, “it’s a very nice ring, i promise. you won’t have to worry about having a bare finger—”
“that’s not what i meant—”
“and it can be a small ceremony,” he assures, “it shouldn’t take much planning. but if you’d like something fancier, i don’t mind either, it’s your wedding day just as much as it is mine—”
“that’s sweet, but wait—”
“and if you’re worried about time off for the honeymoon, as the former acting grand sage, there’s still a few strings i can pull for us both. i hear inazuma is nice during spring, so that gives us—”
he’s rambling. he’s figuring it out right here and now and it’s the last thing you expect of him, not having an elaborate plan—and it takes you by surprise. but he’s breathless and his eyes are wide and his chest is warm and his arm is still wrapped tightly around your waist.
and you couldn’t dream of saying no.
“you think you want all this?” you ask gently, “with little old me?”
“there’s no one but you,” he mumbles, holding you closer. and if there’s a slight bounce in his knee as he waits for your answer, you pretend you don’t notice.
“so you want to get married?”
“i want to marry you,” he corrects, “i want you. marriage is just the means of how.”
“okay,” you say with a hitch in your throat. after a moment of silence, you let out a shaky chuckle, eyes watery as you meet his. “okay. let’s get married.”
“okay,” he nods slightly, swallowing thickly.
“and we can have a house with more windows,” you add.
“and a bigger kitchen,” he agrees.
“and a backyard.”
“maybe a bigger study,” he adds thoughtfully.
you grab his face at that, with enough desperation that his cheeks are squished in your hands as you turn him, pressing your lips to his. you taste him, feel him pass through you as a breath of air, hear him ring through your ear as a muffled grunt.
he’s a part of you. he’s every inch of you. he lingers on your skin and knits into your bones. he’s yours now and somehow….somehow he’ll be yours forever.
“i’m going to get married,” you sniffle. “how exciting.”
“i’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, like he’s still processing the fact that you’re here, and his, and you’ve said yes.
“i love you,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his.
his eyes close and his arm squeezes you gently. “i’ll always love you.”
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edit: everyone stop fucking commenting about the authors note it was a joke and the comments are getting old :/ why don’t you actually leave feedback on the fic itself for once and show writers some support as you consume content
you people don’t fucking understand how insanely in love with him i am i want to make a fur coat out of his pubic hair and wear it on a cold winter day idc
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star-girl69 · 3 months
Text
I Can See You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!
a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
I Can See You - Taylor Swift
(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)
warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
“What the hell are you all doing?”
You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.
Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.
He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.
He didn’t understand any other kind of power.
The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.
Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.
You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.
“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.
“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”
“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.
You need this.
“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”
You opt to ignore him.
“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”
He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.
“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.
The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.
“Oops,” he says.
He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.
—-
The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.
“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”
“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.
“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”
“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”
You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.
They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.
Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.
Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.
“I have a horrible idea.”
“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”
You and Tyla both gag.
“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”
Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”
You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.
No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”
Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.
“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”
“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.
“I would,” Jackie agrees.
“I mean, it might actually work.”
—-
You corner her the next day.
She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?
Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.
“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.
“What?”
“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.
She squints at you. “How?”
“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”
She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.
You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.
“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”
She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.
“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”
You ignore that.
“So, you’ll do it?”
“When are you gonna spell him?”
“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”
“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.
—-
The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.
Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.
You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.
Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-
“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”
And she is. She is so painfully pretty.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.
When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.
“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.
The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.
Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.
She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”
You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.
“Uh… yeah.”
She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.
“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”
“That’s fine.”
You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.
Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.
“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”
“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.
“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”
Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.
You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.
It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?
Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.
Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.
But you’re too deep in this now.
She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.
She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.
She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”
—-
You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.
There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.
You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.
“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”
He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.
You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.
“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”
You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.
You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.
“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.
His hand lands on your knee.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.
You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.
“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”
Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.
“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”
His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.
“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”
You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”
You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.
Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.
You stand in front of her, smiling softly.
“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”
“Of course I am.”
She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.
Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.
Everyone is staring.
It’s exhilarating.
You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.
Her breath tickles your neck.
“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”
You smile and place your hand over hers.
“I know.”
—-
The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.
How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?
You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.
Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.
You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.
After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.
You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.
“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.
“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”
“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”
“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”
She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.
“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.
None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.
Her smile is really pretty.
You laugh along with her after a second.
“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”
“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”
“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.
You don’t leave until the stars come out.
—-
The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.
You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.
“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”
He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.
“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.
He asks you questions and listens to your answers.
He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.
“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”
You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.
Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.
You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.
“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.
You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”
“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.
“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.
And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.
—-
All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.
The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.
You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.
It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.
—-
The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.
While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.
You’re okay with a bow.
Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.
As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.
“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”
It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.
“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,
“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.
“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”
He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.
He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.
“This one’s fit for a lady.”
You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.
You just need to find Clarisse.
“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.
Where the hell is Clarisse?
You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.
You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.
“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”
You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.
You’ve grown to like it.
He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.
You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.
You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.
You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.
The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.
But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.
She clears her throat and let’s go of you.
You back up.
“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”
You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.
“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”
“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.
—-
After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.
Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.
You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.
Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.
“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”
She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.
“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”
And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.
You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.
But you don’t.
You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.
The bow swings in your hand.
“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”
Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”
You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.
But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.
—-
On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.
Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.
Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.
You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.
Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.
He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.
“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”
Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.
“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”
She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.
Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.
She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.
“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.
Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.
“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.
“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”
“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.
Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.
Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.
Revenge feels to good, and you need this.
As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.
Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.
Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.
“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”
He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.
He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.
He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.
Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.
It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.
“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.
She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.
Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.
Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.
But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.
You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.
She stares pointedly at the distance.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.
—-
You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.
You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”
“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”
“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”
You sit down on the bed next to hers.
“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”
“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”
She slips off her armor.
“I’m not something to you.”
She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.
“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”
You leave silently and you cry in the woods.
—-
When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.
“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.
Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.
Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.
No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.
They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.
When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.
How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?
You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.
But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.
But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.
You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.
Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.
“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.
The words hurt. You say them anyways.
“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”
“Y/N,” Tyla coos.
“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”
—-
You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.
You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.
Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.
You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.
But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.
But you might just be making that up.
Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.
You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.
Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.
You’re alone at the stone table.
Xavier sees that as an opportunity.
Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.
He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.
“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.
“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.
You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.
You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.
—-
There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.
It even makes you feel a little excited.
“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”
“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”
“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.
Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”
“Supportive,” you muse.
Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”
“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.
Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.
You look around the room.
Most of your siblings are wearing worse.
And you need to get your mind off her.
“I’m wearing that.”
Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.
You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.
—-
The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.
You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.
Everything is so funny in the firelight.
Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.
There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.
“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”
Your heels sink into the dirt.
“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.
You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.
“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.
“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.
“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”
Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”
“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”
You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.
“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.
And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.
Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.
“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”
She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.
“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”
She laughs, holding you up.
“Oh, you’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.
Her face falls.
It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.
“Y/N, I-”
You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.
“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.
They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.
You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.
“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.
You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.
You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.
You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.
“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.
“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”
“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”
He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.
His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.
He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.
You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.
When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.
She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.
Good.
You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.
His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.
When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.
His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.
He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.
“N-not here. Not yet.”
His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.
“Maybe later,” you whisper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.
“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.
“So, so beautiful, like you��re a witch-”
He’s ripped away from you.
You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.
You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.
Xavier only seems to find it funny.
“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”
She punches him again. Again.
“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”
One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.
“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”
She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.
“Clarisse-”
“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”
A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.
“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.
You see it fade from his eyes.
It shouldn’t be.
You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.
“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.
He holds his hands to his already red face.
“You’re a fucking witch.”
Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.
Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.
—-
She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.
She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.
“Do you need something?” you mutter.
“I was selfish,” she starts.
You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.
“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”
It wasn’t true.
“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”
You place your hand on the grass next to you.
She sits, you don’t look at each other.
“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”
You smile.
“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”
“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”
“Did you mean it?”
She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.
“Mean what?”
“That it wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t true.”
You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.
“I-I was just angry, and I-”
You’re sick of hearing her talk.
It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.
Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.
The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.
You pull away.
“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.
It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.
When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.
You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.
You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.
—-
y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before
clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl
clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)
—-
y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!
clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!
—-
clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up
—-
clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE
literally everyone: YOUR girl????
clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him
everyone: not a logical solution???
—-
shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM
also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison
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venuslore · 4 months
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𖥔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𖥔
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summary ; you make coriolanus feel like he's losing control.
pairing ; peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader
notes ; nothing just a whole bunch of fluff honestly. and i'm not even going to lie... i loved writing this one. i don't think i've written anything as fast as i wrote this bc it truly just flew out of me. this man really has me acting up and i am so here for it.
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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coriolanus snow was never one to let himself be vulnerable in the eyes of another, and for as long as you had known him there was one thing you were always certain of, he had to be in control. he depended on it. craved it. the thought alone, of everything slipping from his grasp and not going to plan, made his head swirl and his skin crawl. 
so when he met you, he began to question himself. question everything he had been working for, everything he had been fighting for, as you slowly wiggled your way into his heart. he was taken by you, and that scared him. 
you were a breath of fresh air in his carefully curated world, a burst of colour amidst the struggles of his life. your spontaneity and liveliness enchanted him, capturing his attention and leaving him craving more. he had never felt this way about anything before. 
as you sat there in the beauty of the meadow, a gentle breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of the wildflowers. the sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves above, painting a warm hue across everything it touched. the tranquillity of it all enveloped you, filling your heart with a sense of contentment.
you and coriolanus were close together on an old picnic blanket you had found, not needing any words to communicate as you took in the peacefulness. his presence alone was enough to make you feel safe and at ease.
you watch on as his fingers trail through the grass, stopping when he comes across a dandelion, and plucks it from its root, “it certainly doesn’t compare to the roses grandma’am grows.”
“some people think of them as weeds, but not me. i think they’re beautiful all the same,” you add, bringing a smile to each of your faces, and take the flower from his hands. “in some ways, i feel just like them; a weed in a world where i should be seen as more.”
coriolanus observes you as you take a closer look at the small flower, appreciating its simple beauty. the yellow, though not as vibrant as a rose, held its own charm. you don’t hold it for long before he takes it back, twirling it with his thumb and forefinger. 
he stares at the flower for a moment before reaching to brush the stem behind your ear, his fingers then lingering as he trails them along the line of your jaw, sending a surge of emotions down your spine. you smile at him, it’s all you could do. if you spoke you weren’t sure what jumbled mess was sure to spew out. 
you bring your hand up to meet his, intertwining your fingers as you lean into his touch. his eyes bore into you, taking you in, appreciating your features under the sunlight. 
“look what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, as if it were some unspoken secret. which, in your case, it was. 
intrigued by his statement, you perk up, “and what exactly is it that i’ve done to you, coriolanus snow?” 
you watch him intently as he opens his mouth to speak, a thought lingering in his mind before he stops and lets his head fall between his shoulders instead. his silence is heavy, lingering in the air between you. you can almost feel the weight of the unspoken words pressing against your skin. 
you reach out tentatively, your hand hovering just inches from his, wanting desperately to bridge the distance but afraid of intruding. the two of you have always shared a deep connection, but something feels different today. something is weighing him down, and you yearn to understand. 
as he continues to fiddle absentmindedly with a blade of grass, you can see that his mind is working overtime. thoughts and feelings swirl like a whirlwind, causing his brow to furrow and his grip on the grass to tighten. 
eventually, he looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty. two things coriolanus liked to keep to himself. 
it’s then that you decide to break the silence. “what’s wrong, my love?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone, you know.”
he looks at you, gratitude mingling with a wisp of fear in his eyes. whatever it was bothering him, you could see that it was taking its toll, and you simply wanted to take him in your arms and kiss it all away, but you knew that that wouldn’t help. 
“i don’t know what i’m doing anymore,” he finally answers. “i feel like i’m losing track of who i am and what i want, what i’ve always wanted, the longer i’m out here.”
“things can change, coriolanus, and you don’t always have to live up to others' expectations of you. especially, your own. so long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” his gaze falls from yours once again, but you refuse to let him suffer in silence anymore. so you reach for him, gathering his face between your fingers and pull him back towards you. “is it really such a bad thing? you get to be here with me.”
“that’s exactly the problem,” he admits, and your breath hitches momentarily as you wait for him to elaborate. “you make me feel like i’m losing control.”
for so long coriolanus had been bound by societal expectations and concerned with maintaining a pristine reputation. he had become so accustomed to a life ruled by rigid schedules and strict rules, never allowing himself to deviate from the norm. 
but with you, everything changed. 
you were afraid to ask, but you knew you had to, for your own piece of mind. “is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
he reaches to touch your face this time, your hands falling from his, and he pulls you closer towards him until your faces were merely a couple inches apart. “i have never felt so free, and yet, so scared in my life.”
“is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you ask the question a second time, this time with more hesitancy as your voice shakes slightly. 
“it’s the best thing.” tears well up in your eyes as his words sink in. you never imagined that you could have such a profound impact on someone’s life, let alone someone as lost and conflicted as he was. “you’re my wildflower, and while i might not have been looking for you, i certainly found you where i least expected it.”
he smiles, his hands caressing your cheeks, as your heart thrums loudly in your chest, overjoyed and so full of love. leaning forward, you close the space between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, so full of passion that it almost envelopes you completely. 
you had brought coriolanus a sense of newfound freedom, showing him the beauty of embracing life’s uncertainties and every unpredictable moment. your spirit was infectious, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to your untamed soul. 
as he fell deeper in love with you, he realised that his heart yearned for the wildness and unpredictability you offered. he saw the vibrant world through your eyes, letting go of his inhibitions and stepping out of his comfort zone. 
you became his wildflower, a symbol of untamed beauty and unapologetic love. 
as you hold each other close, only pulling away to catch your breath, but not daring to pull away too far, coriolanus runs his thumb across your bottom lip. then, with his voice filled with tenderness and newfound appreciation, he whispers, “my wildflower.”
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Beg You to Love Me
"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.
"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.
The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"
Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."
"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."
Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.
He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"
"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"
Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"
"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.
"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-
"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."
"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"
"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"
"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"
"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"
"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"
"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"
"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"
"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"
"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.
"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.
Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"
"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"
Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"
Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."
Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.
"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.
Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"
Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.
"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."
Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"
Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.
He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.
He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.
He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"
He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."
"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.
"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."
Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."
"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.
Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."
"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.
Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."
They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.
Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"
"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."
The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.
A goddamn miracle.
Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.
They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.
They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.
But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
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pupkashi · 4 months
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gojo can’t wait to marry you, but he will for the sake of one folder in his phone
a/n: i want to marry gojo, sue me!
wordcount: 703
masterlist
satoru would take your engagement ring everywhere he goes with you. he’d have it stuffed in his pants pockets or jacket and you never once suspect a thing.
he’d have so many pictures of you turned around and him holding the ring right behind you, clueless as to what the man you loved was holding a mere foot away from you.
there’s pictures of the two of you at home, making dinner, cuddling in bed, cleaning, teaching the students, at the beach, on a walk, on dates, literally anywhere anytime, and all of them have the beautiful ring in the velvet box, wide open and facing the camera as you stare in the opposite direction, oblivious.
he’d always try his luck, but he was cocky enough to somehow always get away with it, only once almost getting caught when you turned around faster than he thought you would, but you were too amazed with the fireworks to notice him throwing the small box into the bushes next to him (he then had to act like he lost his phone to go and pick the box up again).
there’s a chilly breeze that picks up over the two of you as you scoot closer together under the reds and pinks of the sunset, the grass around the two of you rustling with the wind, clouds floating peacefully.
you’re getting up and grabbing a blanket from the picnic basket, back facing satoru. “thank god we brought these blankets! I didn’t expect it to get so chilly so quickly,” you sighed, fingers melting into the plush fabric of the blanket.
satoru is quick the pull the box out of his sweater pocket, snapping the picture and ready to put it away before you turned around.
time seemed to freeze in the seconds that he took to look at you, radiating and glowing in the suns golden rays, the world painting you in all its colors. maybe it was the sounds of the birds singing or the pair of butterflies that flew past you. or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of love and home that he felt in the moment.
satoru didn’t move, he stayed on one knee, the box wide open and facing you as you turned around.
“i love you, sweetheart,” he smiles, the look on your face knocks the wind out of him as his cheeks begin to hurt a bit from how wide he’s smiling, “i knew after we’d been dating for six months that you were the person i want to spend my life with, that you were all I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever need.”
there’s tears welling in your eyes as he continues to talk, heartfelt words and vulnerability as his hands shake slightly. your mouth is still covered by your hands, mouth slightly agape from shock as your heart beats out of your chest.
maybe it was the swans swimming in the lake besides you, maybe it was the two butterflies from before landing on his shoulder before fluttering off again. or maybe it was the way the sun painted him golden, his blue eyes staring at you, snowy bangs falling perfectly on his forehead, your body warm with love as you nod your head when he finally asks the question.
“will you marry me?” his voice is a lot less confident than usual, a relieved laugh leaving him when you engulf him in a hug, your face burying itself in his neck as before pulling away and crashing your lips onto his.
“of course I’ll marry you angel boy,” you laugh, sniffling a bit as he wipes the tears from your face, taking your hand in his and slipping the ring on.
you can’t help but admire the way it looked on your finger, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. soon enough you’re staring back into satoru’s blue eyes, giggling as you cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours, laughing when he grabs you by the waist and spins your around.
he shows you the folder of pictures later that night, and you can’t even be mad at him. not when you realize he had bought the ring the day after your six months.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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