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#it makes me sad that I got into fate so late because I know that it would be in the same lane as the others as well if I would’ve gotten
bumblequinn · 7 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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inbarfink · 9 months
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Okay, so here’s the thing….
We are still at a very early point in the narrative of ‘Fionna and Cake’ and therefore at a very early point in Simon’s character arc. It’s pretty clear that “I need to become Ice King again” is not the end point by any meaning of the word. But I am wondering where we’re going to go with this, cause… The series has yet to really tackle how miserable Ice King himself was a lot of the time. And how often he hurt people. 
Like, yes, I was an advent advocates for 'trying to bring back Simon Petrikov was a really really Bad Idea on Betty's part, it was more healthy to focus on making sure Ice King was as happy and healthy and harmless as he could be', but I am also fully aware that he started the show being both extremely lonely and extremely sad and also a serial kidnapper who was very much a danger to those around him. And as much progress as he made during the show, getting Ice King to that point was a very serious struggle with a lot of backslidings and problems.
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'Friends Forever' is, for example, an episode that stuck with me for a long time as a really heart-wrenching demonstration how even in that late stage, when he has buddies and people trying to seriously take care of him - Ice King was still very capable of seriously sabotaging his own relationships and hurting others and himself.
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And it does make sense narratively that, like, characters like Astrid and Fionna and Cake, all of whom lack the full context of what Ice King's life was like (Fionna and Cake really just saw Simon at his worst and only got snippets of clips of Ice King and since Astrid was born after Humans came to Ooo that means she was also born after the events of ‘Come Along With Me’) all see Simon as a downgrade. Because they really don’t understand how bad Ice King was beforehand. 
And thus is does make sense that with Simon's current mental state, and how he is surrounded lately with these kinda people who never really knew Ice King and don’t really understand how terrible and miserable he could be, and now hearing that his ‘sanity’ just took away magic and whimsy from some else’s whole universe, and how it feels like the actual gods of the multiverse are telling him that he should be Ice King, that he's supposed to be Ice King....
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It makes sense that he might start kinda... romanticizing that time in his life again. 
You know, the big thing about the outlook that Betty should’ve accepted Ice King as who he is rather than basically destroy herself to bring Simon back wasn't about whatever Ice King or Simon Petrikov were better or 'cooler' than the other. It was about, like, embracing change. Not obsessing about a past where things were ‘Better’ but seeing what is the best you can do with things as they are. Moving forwards.
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And we all know how Simon feels about moving forwards right now…
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And obviously that's a pretty bad mindset, even if it's understandable how he got there...
And honestly, if we do explicitly acknowledge that, hey! Ice King’s life was often just as much of a depressive spiral as Simon's is right now! There might be an element of… resignation in Simon’s decision. 
Because Simon's downward spiral since getting cured is not a demonstration that he was better off under the Ice Crown's curse.... But, to him, more a demonstration that he doesn't need the Crown to screw up his own life anymore.
‘Cause as both as Ice King and as good ol’ ‘sane’ Simon Petrikov he is just as capable of being lonely and depressed.
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And just as capable of losing his own identity.
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And just as capable of pushing his loved ones away and ruining his own life.
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And just as capable of becoming a weirdo obsessive.
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And just as capable of making little girls cry.
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He even started kidnapping people again! That’s the Ice King Classic!
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So on some level, maybe Simon is resigned to the fact he’s always going to be SOME sort of screwed up lonely sadman who hurts others. And if that is his fate, he might as well be the screwed up lonely sadman who is mostly oblivious to how sad he really is and can shoot ice from his fingertips. And his arc is going to be about realizing that, whether he is Ice King or Simon Petrikov, healing and change ARE always possible for him.
But we’re gonna have to see where it goes…
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misguidedasgardian · 6 months
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The price of war, part 2
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Part 1
Summary: You are getting accustomed to your new life as the Lady of Winterfell
Warnings: it is implied that reader has a "midsize" body or rather she is plus size, cursing, forced marriage, a bit of humiliation and degradation (just between them both), talks about body shaming (not towards reader), reader is concern her body will change, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy, body changing, SMUT, body worship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation I think, might miss some warnings but you know me.
Notes: no please this will not become a story, I just felt kinky
This happens a couple of months after the first part, but BEFORE that little flash-forward
This wasn’t easy, not at all
Cregan was not going to support your brother, but he has decided to kept you with him
You married him a couple of days later after he had you, Jace even gave you away to him with a mocking stance after he himself took his liberties with you once in Cregan’s chambers
Only once
Because the wolf didn’t want to share you, he said so himself…
The trace of Jace’s hands vanished quickly from your body, Cregan had made sure of it
Now two months had passed and even though you were the lady of Winterfell, you barely left the castle, you barely did anything…
Your days consisted of rising up with Cregan inside of you, he would fuck you tired, when you’d come to your senses he would be finishing breaking his fast, leaving you with a small feast as he went away to deals with matters of importance to the biggest of the 7 Kingdoms. He wouldn’t tell you what he’d do… you thought because they were preparing for marching…
Against your family.
You’d spend your short days… as winter was coming… sewing, reading northerners history, and chatting with servants maids and people of the castle.
They were becoming… softer towards you.
They were sweet and nice but… there was a secret arrangement between the servants and soldiers of Winterfell… you were not to leave…
Nobody would physically stop you, but those days you dared go outside to the courtyard, you felt the soldiers sting you nervously, how the maids would never leave you alone…
So you’d return inside, it was chilly anyways
At night when Cregan returned, no matter how much you’d try to initiate conversation, he would quiet you with kisses and caresses, he would take you once and again, and those sweet times when you would lay over him, your head in his chest… you try to ask him about his day…
And he would imply, annoyed, that you didn’t need to know it…
He thought you were trying to spy on him
And that made you sad
Three full moons had passed since that fateful day you landed your dragon outside the double walls of Winterfell…
And all that time alone with yourself.. had make you more aware… self aware
Something was off, as you broke your fast… alone… the sole smell of those wild boar sausages made your stomach do somersaults inside of you…
You had been feeling.. heavier lately.. more sensitive, and now you wanted to throw up
Perhaps you were dying
Catched some desease that only southerners in the north could catch…
But oh you knew the truth, deep inside
You weren’t an idiot
The maid catched you with your hands in your sensitive breasts…
The maester was called, and your doubts dissipated
You were with child
Cregan was coming home tonight and you were waiting for him with a small feast and candles lighten
You… we’re conflicted about Cregan, he was gruff, a bit wild, but he never mistreated you, he was gentle and sensual with you, and wether you had liked it or not, he was your husband…
You just wanted to melt the ice around him…
So when he entered his chambers he found you waiting for him with a soft smile
He smirked
Now you were changing tactics… he thought… you were trying to soften him, get him to lower his guards… he found it endearing
“What’s all this my sweet lady wife?”, he asked, you got nervous all of a sudden
“I wanted to tell you something…”
The child you were expecting… it was not Cregan’s first born, he already had a son, Rickon, who he wouldn’t let you meet yet… he had no need of a heir, he already had one… so you’d imagine he didn’t care much, but if he didn’t want more children… he wouldn’t have bed you as much…
You only hope this could bring you both together
“Go ahead”, he encouraged
You knew he didn’t trust you
You had this plan to ease him into it, to start dining, to chat a bit about his day, and then finally you'd tell him about your condition, but his piercing gray eyes were drilling into your nervous stare, and he seemed impatient, so you guessed it was better to just tell him.
"I'm with child", you said with a small smile.
You were happy, you always wanted to have your own family, you did, perhaps it was your father's neglect, or your mother's stern interactions with you all, but you wanted to have children of your own, just so you could love them as much and as best as you could, because you knew you could do better than what you had
Cregan chuckled darkly
"Oh my sweet, innocent little wife, I had noticed already", he purred, with his usual smirk
"Uh?", you muttered, one of your hands in your yet somewhat flat belly
"Your tits are bigger, you get all whiny when I touch them, and your waist and thighs are thicker...", he said with a mocking tone, "So I already noticed, I just wanted you to tell me"
"Oh", you whispered. You didn't see a change in his attitude towards you, perhaps he wasn't extremely happy, maybe this was what he expected from you, so that's why he wasn't particularly excited
You looked down as your nose tickled, a tell tell sign that you were about to start crying
...and your waist and thighs are thicker...
You ahd noticed how your sisters' bodies changed, both of them, Rhaenyra had lost the figure she had, you don't remember her young and thin, but older, as your mother, and thicker, but you did remember Helaena, her body, after having the twins, became softer, rounder... Aegon had made sure to point it out shortly after she gave birth... while in his cups he mocked of how he didn't desire her now with her new body
He made her cry, Aemond had grabbed him and smacked his head against the stone floor of the dinning room until Alicent cried to stop him
"I'm sorry", you muttered, and now he looked confused, "I'm afraid is a thing Targaryen women suffer while carrying a child... they loose their figure..."
"You have nothing to be sorry for", he didn't mean it like that, he thought, alarmed, when he saw you were about to cry.
You thought he had insulted you, when for him was the opposite
He took two long steps and grab you softly
"I can't wait for you to get fat with my child", he growled, you looked up into his eyes to find his pupils enlarged, ready to pounce on you, "more for me to grab, to caress, to kiss..."
"Really?", you asked, suddenly embarrassed, not really believing him
"You don't believe me little one?", he growled, his big hands, even over your dress, surrounded your and grabbed you under your ass cheeks, making you whine in surprise, "you are even more beautiful than the day you arrived here, and each passing week you'll be even more", he leaned in and kissed you then, more like... he devoured you
You completely gave in as he trapped your lips with his, you already know how it went, but this time felt different
Before you even knew it, you heard it, he ripped your dress with one tug, in a second leaving naked to his eyes
"You are so fucking delicious... can't fucking wait till' you are all round for me", he whispered adoringly, made you want to cry but this time from happiness
Still with his hands on the back of your thighs, he managed to get you off the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist, as he took you to the bed
"It seems I wasn't clear enough", he said softly, "It appears that no matter all the times I've bedded you, you still think I'm not attracted to you, that I don't take you seriously as my wife"
He placed you softly to the bed, he accommodated between your thighs. He looked down at you, admired your form, and you wanted to cover your breasts at least, feeling watched so intently...
"ah ah ah", he chided, grabbing yours arms, preventing you from covering, "you are mine to see, remember?", he took his own clothes very quickly, until he was as naked as you were.
He was a magnificent creature, his muscles visible under his beautiful skin, his body thick, his chest ample, hsi arms and legs thick as logs... his... manhood... thick, generous, you had nothing to compare it with, but it was so big... thick as almost your wrist
"You like what you see too, don't you?", that devilish smirk that made your knees tremble
You were feeling more confident, now more desired so you nodded strongly
"Yes husband" you admitted, his smirk grew even more, and his big rough hands grabbed your soft thighs, squishing them, admiring them
"Who does this thighs belong to?", he asked then, looking down at you
"To you", you answered without even thinking
"And who does this belly belong to?", he asked grabbing your sides, squeezing a bit too
"To you", you repeated, a smirk of your own appearing in your mouth, his thick but nimble fingers sneaked between your thighs then, you jumped, buckling your hips when they teased your entrance, his thumb in your clit
"And this cunt?", he teased, "that will bear me many children"
"It's yours", you moaned, spreading your legs even further, asking for more... and he indulged you sinking in another finger, to tease your insides.
"Ah", you almost lost it when he found that special spot inside of you and bullied it relentlessly until you could hear the squelching sounds you were making
"All wet for me too", he teased, "so precious, my beautiful, desired little wife, all mine to breed"
You didn't know why his words turned you on so much but they did.
"Please...", you begged buckling your hips once his fingers abandoned your inside
"Please what?", he teased
"Please... I need you inside me", you begged, not caring anymore, he was your husband, you wanted him and he wanted you, there was no power play, no more no between you.
"I shall indulge you then", he said, pleased, his hands would not leaving your soft thighs, squeezing them, caressing them, his eyes never leaving your form... his pupils enlarged making his eyes seem all black, his teeth... in his mouth hunger for you...
"But firt", it happened fast, he layed on his belly between your thighs and sunk in your cunt
It made you scream the contact of his wet tongue between your tongues, your hand went to his wild hairs, the other to the sheets under you
You herd him, rather, you felt him chuckle between you, making goosebumps blossom in your skin. His rough hands in your thighs, his mouth, his wet large tongue. He devoured you like a man starved.
It was not the first time he'd done it, the first time you felt akward, he could sense it, it was less intense than this, more tense rather...
But not now, when you were coming undone for the second time, and he lapped at your juices like it was water and he was parched
He finally released you when he was satted and your legs were shaking around him.
He ludely wiped his mouth with his naked arm, smiling birghtly at you from above
"Fucking delicious", he but as moaned, "now that you indulged me, love, I'll indulge you"
"Wait... wait i can't"
"Yes you can, just take it my love", he teased, he took his hand wet with your arousal to his cock, stroking it. You whimpered, your senses heightened.
You whimpered again, but you welcomed him spreading your legs wider.
He entered you slowly but steadily, you melted under him as you felt every centimeter of his thick cock.
"Oh gods", you whined your head falling back
"It's not your gods, my love, it's me", he growled, "your loving husband"
He wasted no time in moving, retrieving himself until his very tip, making you whine and then he sank himself back inside you to the hilt, with more purpose this time
"You look so beautiful like this", he teased, "taking my cock, so full of it"
"I like it", its the only thing you were able to mutter, your mind clouded
"Of course you do", his strong arms were placed by the side of your face, you could see his muscles working as he kept himself from crushing you under his weight
His thrusts were deep and strong, you could swear the tip of his cock reached your belly every time.
"You are going to look so beautiful", he said, "more than you already do, but don't think this is going to end", he promised with a dark smile, "it will only get more frequent, I won't be able to keep myself from you", he kept ramming into you
The bed make dangerous sounds under you, threatening to break, you you didn't care
"Are you well?", he had to ask, your eye had rolled almost to the back of your head, you were shaking and moaning without restraint
"Please don't stop", you begged making him chuckled darkly
"I love you", he promised in the middle of his grunts, keeping his rhythm steady, just as you needed.
That did managed to slip in your mind
"You do?", you asked, grabbing onto his arms, looking into his eyes
"I fucking do, from the moment I saw you enter that room I knew, you belonged with me", he promised, as he resumed his thrusts, "I needed to have you, breed you", you moaned, feeling your orgasm building again, "and turn you into my little slut", you whined in protest but he quieted you down with a dark chuckle, "now here you are, desperate for my cock, aren't you?", you nodded quickly, "of course you are you little thing"
"Please", you begged
"Admit it", he teased, fucking you slowly
"I am, I love it", you whispered, giving up so easily, there was no reason to hide it
"Good girl", his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressed your cheek
"I love you too", you whispered, he fucked you harder, finally cuming inside of you
That triggered your own climax
You almost lost consciusness
You certainly missed your husband chuckling at you, leaving your form, and cuddling you next to him, after bringing you water
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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month
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✨New Beginnings✨
Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist Part 1
A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷
Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.
Word Count: 2.9k
Rating: 18+ Only
Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur. 
   You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.
   So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.
   After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them. 
   You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.
   You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive. 
   You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again. 
   “You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”
   You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him. 
   “Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second. 
   Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers. 
   “Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face. 
   “I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel. 
   He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good. 
   He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate. 
   “Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight. 
   “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face. 
   Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?
   “It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.
   “Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?” 
   “Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”
   You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?
   “You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.
   “Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present. 
   “Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back. 
   “Yeah, I really have.”
   “That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin. 
   Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him. 
   “You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what. 
   “Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat. 
   “I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. 
   “Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun. 
   “Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”
   He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”
   Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly. 
   “Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”
   You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”
   He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”
   “Yeah,” you whisper out. 
   “Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”
   Darlin’.  He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest. 
   You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?
   He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand. 
   You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up. 
   He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”
   “Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be. 
   “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows. 
   “Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”
   “I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”
   He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”
   “Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”
   “Me too.” 
   You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him. 
   He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous. 
   “Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation. 
   “Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow. 
   He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”
   You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”
   “Great.” 
   You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel. 
   As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward. 
   “Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet. 
   “Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new. 
   You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”
   “Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly. 
   You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be. 
   Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response. 
   “Yeah, it really has…”
   Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”
   Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?” 
   He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”
   You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.
   “Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”
   You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”
   He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”
   Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”
   Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”
   And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another. 
   And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours. 
   This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it. 
   When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”
   “Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you. 
   “Thank you for staying.”
   He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”
   You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him. 
   Your forever. 
Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox
@orcasoul @thundermartini @solllaris @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @vie-is-punk
@hoeruiner @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @amyispxnk @morallyinept @milla-frenchy
@laramc-02 @keylimebeag
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sugurufic · 4 months
Text
The Girl at the Cafe
Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader
(megumi is such a babygirl and i love the violin scene so here it is)
Word Count: almost 1k
Content Warnings: none, just fluff
masterlist
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Megumi has been seeing this girl daily now, sitting in the corner with a tea in her hands, looking out the window. Megumi sees you daily, and you see him too, but he has never had the courage to ask your name. He thinks you look beautiful, and now he has been looking forward to seeing you in your spot rather than his black coffee.
Today is no different, he enters the cafe and sits down in his unassigned-assigned place and turns to catch a glimpse of you. But today, you aren't there. He checks the time on his phone, he is there at the usual time. Maybe you were running late, a hopeful part of him thinks. Maybe you have already left, the pessimist in him thinks.
He orders his usual coffee and a pastry to pass the time, but it's been over half an hour and there is still no sign of you. After an hour, he leaves the coffee not tasting the same without having you to steal glances at.
Right as he steps out, he spots Yuji and turns away, not wanting him to see his usually antsy face upset over nothing. 
He is glad he does, because he bumps into you - well you run into him - but he is delighted to see you though his face still has the signature frown.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” you say, and Megumi is mesmerised by your voice, already feeling it seeping into his dreams. 
“It's alright,” He says, hands involuntarily reaching out to steady you. 
“Isn't it later than your usual time?” You ask. He can see the curiosity in your eyes and he is delighted that you recognize him - else he'd be making a complete fool of himself.
“Yeah, school,” He says with a sad sigh. “You're late too, what a coincidence.” Megumi opens the door for you, letting you pass before entering again.
“Fushiguro, Megumi,” He says when you give him your name. He tries saying it out once, loving the way it rolls off his tongue.
Megumi takes another pastry and his black coffee, not worrying about the sleep it is going to steal from him. It's not like he could sleep tonight either. The barista gives a knowing smile but she doesn't say anything. 
Conversation flows easily between you two, and you are quickly done with your beverages and pastries. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door again as you exit a shy smile on your face.
He's asking how you are going to go just as two pairs of arms are swung around him, embarrassment filling his whole body.
“Fushiguro-kyun!” Yuji and Nobora smother him with embarrassing questions about things that never happened, about the nights they shared together about the nice things he has said to them. He wishes the earth would split open and swallow him, he's sure he's red in the face and cannot bear to look you in the eyes. What kind of man would you take him for, after these idiots? He's fuming and ready to lash out at his friends only to be beaten to it again. By Gojo Sensei, of all people.
“Could you not touch him so casually, please?” Gojo says in a soft voice, before yelling, “You homewreckers!”
“Ah, well,” Megumi accepts his fate, ready to never show up in this cafe again, ready to disappear out of your sight and never seek anyone else out.
Gojo is standing elegantly, his blindfold gone and sunglasses in their place - his glowing blue eye teasing from under a lens. “Megumi-chan has violin practice with me now.” He says with all the dramatic flair he is known for. “Let’s go home, Megumi-chan. Today I will have you master Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
He is ready to split the sky and fly away, but then you start giggling at their theatrics. He thinks it is the prettiest sight he has ever seen, seeing you giggle like that, he wants to make that sound come from you all the time. It's a strange feeling, for he has never had the urge to make people laugh.
“You've got wonderful friends, Fushiguro.” You say, sounding out of breath. Your eyes twinkle with laughter and he knows he will never forget it.
An embarrassed smile makes its way to his face, and Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all step back, staring at him in horror.
“Megumi?” They whisper under their breath, eyes dancing between the two of you.
“Same time, tomorrow?” You ask, holding your hand out. Megumi is a little confused, but Gojo says, “Phone number, Megumi-chan,”
“Oh, right!” Megumi takes your phone and dials his number, a shy smile on his face. “Same place?”
“Do you have any better suggestions?” You ask, eyes sparkling. He cannot bring himself to look away, wanting to drink in each second he has with you.
Megumi watches you walk away, he thinks you have an amazing walk - taking the runway straight to his heart. He's so blissed he's even forgotten his embarrassing friends, who had been suspiciously quiet all this time. The satisfied smile on his face quickly turns to a scowl as he turns, Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all with wide grins on their faces. And suddenly he can feel all his fury returning.
“What the hell was all of that?” He demands, not quite loud, but still sounding outraged. And he's surprisingly vocal about it too. “Gojo-Sensei, violin?  Really? Do you even play violin?”
“Fushiguro's got a girlfriend!” Yuji ignores all of that, right back to his bubbly self. Megumi hates Yuji so much at the moment, and his resting face reflects that, but he also thinks, if you two were to date - you’d better get used to his friends' antics.
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kishibe-kisser · 7 months
Text
"I like to think Yuji is ours in another life." Your words were soft and gentle, speaking so quiet almost in fear that Nanami heard it. It had been plaguing your mind since you had met the boy, how he sparked that parental instinct in you both. However the last few weeks it was all you could think about when him and Nanami were out on a job.
You felt relief thinking the boy had someone like Nanami to look up to and that Nanami had someone to dote on. They both deserved it, the happiness of a family. Yuji only had his grandfather growing up and Nanami yearned for nothing more than a family. It was only natural that when you packed and extra lunch for Yuji that the thoughts crossed your mind.
You watched Nanami shift, turning his head on your chest to look at you. He looked tired, with slight bags under his eyes. The stress was from work, not Yuji. If anything the boy made him feel younger again... he reminded him so much of Haibara.
"They're all just kids. They need someone looking out for them." He replied shortly... wrapping his arms around you tightly, feeling the sheets around you shift. You mussed your fingers through his unstyled hair, nodding in agreement. "And Yuji..." He trailed off, his eyes looking past you rather than at you. He didn't like talking about him much, out of anger and out of sadness for the boy's inevitable fate. It upset the sorcerer more than he wanted to admit. He loved and hated the boy's sunny disposition despite it all.
"He's a kid, put into a position where he can't be one." You trailed your fingers over the lines on his face, sighing at his words. He too was just a kid once, him, Gojo, Geto... Haibara, all just kids in unfortunate positions. You would have been lying if you said you hadn't shed a tear thinking about the things Nanami had went through, the things he had shared at least. It was clear the topic of Yuji struck him deeply.
"It's silly of me, I know. But I sometimes imagine what he was like when he was a child." You smiled, trying to make the conversation lighter. "Boys like him are always such a handful as kids. So curious." You added on and Nanami stifled a laugh. "I imagine with Yuji's personality. He definitely got into trouble." Nanami surprised you, not thinking he would indulge this fantasy of yours. He tended to be the realist between the both of you, but even a realist needs to dream every now and again.
"He probably got into everything he wasn't supposed to because he still does." He laughed and you felt a weight sit on your stomach. It was a combination of joy and sorrow for both Nanami and Yuji. "It's good to dream." Nanami said, taking note of your sudden somber expression. His hands finding your face to wipe away tears you didn't even know had slipped.
"It is." You agreed and released a shaky breath. He never realized quite how much you had thought about this or how much he had. "He's a good kid..." You laughed, shaking off how ridiculous you were being and wiping the tears away. "He is." His laugh was sympathetic, maybe towards you or maybe towards Yuji, maybe even to himself. "You're working together again tomorrow right? I'll pack him a lunch too." You said, feigning a smile as Nanami stroked your hair.
It was indeed good to dream and for kids to be kids, he'd protect them to the best of his abilities. For their sake and the sake of himself, because he too was young once.
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A/N: I'll get over Nanami soon (no i won't) and I'll write less for him (no I won't) eventually. No but seriously I'll write something else soon, it's just that this is stuck in my head so it's easy to put down on paper. I don't have time lately to write alot because it's exam season the next weeks. But after that! I will try my best to update my lists!
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lxclerc · 11 months
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
summary... charles' lonely call breaks your heart further requested... yes! warning... angst pairing... charles leclerc x reader
note... a little drabble requested back in november 2022. i'm so sorry for it being super super super late but if whoever requested it is still here then i hope you enjoy it! feedbacks are very much appreciated and encourages me to write more! extra note... also i'm taking a semester gap year so i will be trying to post more and get through requests so let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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you’re exhausted, having just got home from a forty eight hour shift. being a surgical resident is absolute hell and you’re not quite sure how you’re managing but somehow you’d manage to drag yourself back home, frowning as you reach for the light switch only to find the wall empty. 
right. you’re in your own apartment, a place you hadn’t really lived at for months. mostly you’d come here when you needed something but more times than not, you go home to his apartment. it had been your home rather than this sad, lonely place void of his laughter. 
you sigh, letting your bag drop to your thrifted couch. you suddenly wished you’d stayed in the hospital on call room instead of here. being back in this place reminds you of all the things you no longer have, of the person you no longer call yours. 
god the self pity is getting tiring and you’re far too tired for another midnight crying session and so after washing the grime off your skin, you’d settled on your sofa with a bag of chips, flipping on the TV to some trashy american series to drown out your loneliness. 
however, as fate would unfortunately have it, you hadn’t even reached the second episode before your phone started ringing, his smiling face displayed on the screen. you’d frozen on your spot. you remember the exact date you’d taken that photo of him and you still had the ringtone you specifically chose for him. 
you’re haunted, your body full of memories and his fingerprints imprinted in your soul. even now, three weeks, two days and twelve hours since he’d called it off, he still haunts. you wanted to let out a bitter laugh as the ringing stopped. who’s counting right?
you refused to be his lonely call. you might be absolutely miserable and pathetic but you respect yourself enough for that. you won’t be his lonely call just because his friends and his girls are gone. you’d been his six am good morning but you will never be his midnight number whenever he starts wondering if he’d made the wrong choice. 
your phone lights up again but you let it ring. if he had more things to say to you then he can say it after the beep. 
he calls more times after that, keeping you awake as you stare at your ringing phone. a few times, you catch yourself reaching for it, reminding yourself that he’d been the one to make this choice. he’d been the one to make excuses about both your schedules being too much. and it was so unfair how he tormented you for it. this entire thing was unfair. you were willing to give everything to charles. you loved him far too much and you’d been under the impression that he felt the same but if he was willing to give you up so easily, did he really love you as much as he claimed he did?
he’d made his bed and now he needed to get used to sleeping on it. 
it was around two am when he finally stopped calling and you’re sure you’ll have a headache come tomorrow morning from staying up too late. you decide to call it a night and end your self inflicted torture, putting your phone on silent as you turned off the TV and chucked your empty bag of chips in the trash. you were just about to turn off the light when the knock came and you knew without checking exactly who it was. 
you sigh, frozen in your tracks as the knocks became more and more insistent. 
“y/n,” his voice is rough, scratchy as though he’d spent the entire night screaming at the top of his lungs and you felt a tear slip down your cheeks. he sounded so broken. maybe as broken as you felt. “s'il te plaît, mon amour.” please, my love.
you stay rooted to your place. this is unfair. this is so fucking unfair. he’d been the one to give up. charles gave you up. how dare he come crawling to you now? 
“Je suis désolé. Je suis désolé. Je pensais que je pourrais apprendre à moins t'aimer. Tu me manques,” he rambles. “i miss you so fucking much i didn’t even think it was possible, baby.” I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought I could learn to love you less. I miss you.
a sob rocks your body as you fall to the floor, clutching yourself as though you’re trying to hold yourself together. 
“please, baby,” he begs and you can hear the way he’s crying too. “J'ai besoin de toi.” i need you.
and then you open the door. because you loved him too much. because you could never give up on him. 
taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @writing-about-current-obsessions @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerr @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr
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ispelexists · 3 months
Text
SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'
"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"
The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.
(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)
This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3
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🎭
The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH
English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these
Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:
💙 1. 💙
🎭) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.
He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.
🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.
🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)
🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)
💙 2. 💙
🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.
🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')
🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him
🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)
💙 3. 💙
🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.
🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):
a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry
(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))
anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.
b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.
🎭
The art without the text 😘
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ash5monster01 · 6 months
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hii!! could you write something for charlie dalton and an insecure reader (they are already dating)? ive been feeling kind of ugly lately😭😭 tysm
I’m so sorry this has taken me so long, I hope everything has been going okay. Insecurities can really suck sometimes, but we just have to remember we’re all beautiful in our own way <3
Perfectly Me
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Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, self doubt, insecurities, anxiety
Summary: Dating cool and confident Charlie is proven to be hard when most of the time you’re insecure about everything about yourself.
word count: 1.1k
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Charlie had always been Charlie. You weren’t entirely sure where he got it from. Somehow after all these years in boarding school he had found a confidence that set him apart from the others. You had never met anyone else that had lived life with their chin so high and smile so wide. He was confident, fun, popular, and you felt everything but. When he had chosen you it was shocking. How could daring and brave Charlie seek out the only girl that kept her head ducked and mouth shut. Yet somehow he did and everyday since you had been questioning why.
Especially on days like today. Days where Charlie’s laugh bellowed loudly through the lunch room as you sat quiet as a mouse beside him. Girls looked on with adoring looks and boys laughed after every sentence that left his mouth. His presence was large, everyone saw him, everyone liked him. It was so intense that as you sat beside the boy you loved you felt more invisible then ever, especially to him. He didn’t see you, there is no way he could have. You were nothing but an inanimate object beside him and you had only ended up in this position from a cruel trick of fate. Not only were you now invisible but humiliated because you couldn’t compare to him. You never could.
When the bell sounds you’re the first out the door. You didn’t want to wait and see if Charlie even acknowledged you, it would hurt too much if he didn’t. You barely went noticed as you left anyway so it would be no surprise if he didn’t notice either. But he did. His proud look turning into one of confusion as he spotted your form rushing away. He had wanted to kiss you, stare into your pretty eyes for a moment longer, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered why, it almost feeling like you were trying to escape him. This very thought plagued him the rest of the day as he awaited a moment to see you again.
Once classes were over it took him forever to find you. He felt like he had turned Welton upside down in search of you until he finally found you curled up on a window seat in the library. Your eyes were cast downward at the book in your hands, your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window where you sat. You were so beautiful and his heart yearned deeply for you in that very moment. He wished you didn’t feel so far away. He just wanted you two to be okay. As much as he talked about always having a girlfriend he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have one, especially you.
“Found you” you jump slightly at the sound of his husky voice. He’s lifting your feet and sliding beside you before you can react. He doesn’t make any notion that the window is cold against his back as he finally looks at you.
“I wasn’t hiding” you finally say, a bit nervous in his presence which you hated.
“Felt like it” the sad way he drops his gaze from you makes your heart clench. You hadn’t meant to hurt him but he had unintentionally been hurting you.
“I know” you whisper and Charlie looks up to see the sad expression you wear, one that matched his own.
“Can you tell me why?” he asks and you notice how small he seems here. He isn’t loud and proud Charlie, he’s your boyfriend who’s afraid you’re going to say something that hurts him and even worse you know what you have to say is going too.
“I don’t know why you’re with me Charlie” you say, officially closing your book and giving him your full attention.
“What do you mean?” he asks and you bring your hands to your face, sighing into them before looking up again.
“I’m not like you Charlie. You’re good looking, popular, outgoing. I’m just not” you say, exasperated and tired of not only being insecure about everything else in your life but about this too.
“Yes you are!” and this has you chuckling dryly, so tired of being lied to.
“No Charlie, I know it, you know it, and the rest of these imbeciles do too” you say, arms crossing over you chest and Charlie sighs as he presses a hand to his forehead.
“You are to me” he says calmly and you feel your heart rate accelerate at the confession. Charlie dares a glance at you to see your face flooded with sadness and confusion. He had never meant to make you feel small. “You’re the only girl for me. Maybe you’re not all that outgoing but that’s okay. I need someone who is going to bring me down to earth. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend today before she left after lunch and instead I watched her run away from me. I don’t try to make you feel worthless, I’m just so used to being loud and bold to hide the fact that I’m terrified my life won’t turn out the way I want it to. The only thing I’m sure of is you”
“Is that true?” you ask and Charlie chuckles even though none of this conversation is meant to be funny.
“It’s the most true thing I’ve said all week” he tells you and finally you take a good look at your doe eyed boyfriend. His floppy brown hair hangs in his eyes and the crooked smile on his face is still only ever directed at you. He loves you the way you love him, for all the things neither of you are. So you scoot forward and wrap your arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you” you tell him and he gives you a tight lipped smile that you happily lean forward and kiss.
“I’m sorry I expected too much of you” Charlie apologizes in return and you smile before locking your lips with his own again. Pulling yourself closer to him your book slides from your lap and lands with a loud thud that has you both giggling quietly in the back corner of the library. Charlie doesn’t care about the attention it might’ve brought and kisses you good and hard again.
The best thing about Charlie is no matter how insecure you are, at least he will always be there for you. You balanced each other out and balance was the most important key to life. Balance love, balance work and art, and you shall be free.
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gojoidyll · 16 days
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Infinity
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Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader
Part 13 | sukuna and a crush
Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.
Warnings | none
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RYOMEN SUKUNA held her fiercely. His four arms never seemed to let her go. Anywhere he went, he made sure to have her follow. Be it behind him, beside him, or sitting atop his shoulders, or held in his arms.
He was always so cautious even when he was strongest back then.
"Where are you going?"
It was one of his lives where he had her all to himself.
"Nowhere..."
He knew when she was lying, when she was sad, happy, mad. It didn't matter how she hid her emotions. He could tell. He had many of her lives to practice after all.
"Is that so?"
She nodded, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze.
"Maybe i should force it out of you then."
Her eyes widened at that, which was when she decided to turn and run. Poor choice.
"Running away," he caught her easily, "you know you can't get away."
She pushed at his hands, his many many hands, "let go! I have to go somewhere!"
"Where? Why?"
She shook her head, refusing to answer.
"You leave me no choice, brat."
She grabbed one of his wrists, "Please! Anything but tickling! Anything but that!"
"Foolish woman, you resigned to your fate!"
"No! Hahaha! Stop! Stop it! If you tickle me I'm going to pee! Sukunaaaa!"
It wasn't everyday that other curses or servants witness THE King of Curses get into a tickle fight with his wife, and when it does happen? All one can do is look away and never speak of it. Because Sukuna may be soft with her, but with anyone else? It will mean death.
"Al- alright, alright! I'll tell you, just hah no more!"
Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes as she struggled within his grip. Her body withering as he finally stopped his assault.
He looked at her expectantly, but was obviously prepared to tickle her again if need be.
"That new cursed blade...the- hah- the blacksmith who made it was traveling to the town closest to hear today and tomorrow and I wanted him to make that blade for you."
She was still trying to catch her breath as her lungs finally got the air they needed and she no longer felt that ticklish feeling.
"Foolish woman..., we can just go together."
She pouted at him, arms crossed and everything, "it was supposed to be a surprise."
He rolled both sets of his eyes, spoiled, taken care of, doted on. Y/n was a handful even as his wife. But at least she was here. Alive.
"You'll get over it. Where I go, you go. Where you go, I go. That's the promise we made, and I expect you to keep, brat."
She huffed, "fine... but I still plan to wrap it for you and give it to you as present! And you better act surprised when you receive it!"
"Whatever."
"Hey!"
"Ughhh, what the? A dream?"
Itadori Yuji woke unceremoniously in the dead of night, the dream unfinished and his heart aching uncontrollably.
"Am I sick or something?"
Despite his inner turmoil and the questions that popped up into his mind, Sukuna didn't say anything. The last thing the King of Curses was going to do was explain to the brat was that he was dreaming of Sukuna's past.
Itadori decided to ignore the uneasy feeling in the end, and tried his best to go back to sleep, but he did admit that it was hard to.
I mean, he did dream of you, after all, which felt wrong to him.
[...]
"You're up late."
She felt someone gently flick her forehead, causing her to look up from her paperwork.
"Oh! Gojo! Yeah, I am. I just wanted to get some assignments ready for tomorrow- er," she glanced at the clock her desk, "I mean today," she said while amending her sentence. Her clock read 2:01 a.m. she honestly didn't realize how late she stayed.
"Why don't I take you home?"
She shook her head as she stood up from her desk and neatly stacked the papers before gathering up her belongings, "don't worry, Gojo! You don't have to."
"But I want to."
He gave her the best smile he could muster. Disarming, trustworthy, lighthearted. He didn't want to scare her away, but he also didn't want her to go away too soon. If she was going home, then he obviously wanted to go to.
"Well,... I guess a walking partner wouldn't be so bad," she relented, and he grinned.
"Who said anything about walking?"
"Wha-"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, "ever tried teleporting before?"
A rhetorical question. Of course she hasn't.
"G- gojo, I heard you could teleport, but I don't think I want to-"
He held her close, gently, "don't you trust me?"
She gave him a look, her mind working fast, "well, yes, but-"
"No buts! You said yes, and that's all I need."
He held her hand with his free one, "tell me where you live and you'll be there in flash."
She couldn't help her nerves, they were going haywire. Though, deep down, she did have to admit that she was curious to see how teleportation worked. She heard the rumors that Gojo could do it, so... maybe she should just give it a try? Once surely won't hurt.
So she gave him her address.
He grinned down at her when she relented, "then hold on tight."
She did as she was told and clung to the front of his uniform, her fingers twisted into the fabric as she screwed her eyes shut. Despite wanting to try, she still couldn't deny the fear that ebbed away at her.
There's a first for everything after all.
"And, we're here."
He was so close. His breath tickled her ear, it made her face feel hot all of a sudden as she let go of him and back away a bit. Though, her legs still felt a little wobbly, but luckily as she fell back, she landed on her couch which cushioned her fall.
"Oh wow."
The feeling was indescribable. It definitely felt weird from shifting from one place and then being in another so quickly.
"Pretty cool, right?"
"Mmm."
She still couldn't form many words even as she sat there.
"Hey, you good?"
She finally focused on Gojo then as he crouched in front of her, his blindfold was off and his bright, blue eyes were filled with concern that she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I'm good... just next time... let's just walk together, ok?"
He smiled then and patted her knee, the sensation sending a jolt through her entire leg, "deal!"
He was excited for when next time would come by.
She cleared her throat then as she went to stand up, Gojo immediately helping her as he took her hands and pulled her. Her bag falling to the couch cushions.
"An- anyway, even though it's late, do you want anything? Something to drink or eat?"
He let go of her hands and stuffed them into his pockets, "nah, I'm good. Just wanted to get you home and safe was all."
She couldn’t deny how her face felt hot all of sudden and she wondered if he did this with all his female coworkers, "well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Always."
And even as she bid him goodnight and showed him to her front door of her apartment, she found that she wanted him to stay and talk a little longer.
But she wasn't stupid. He was good-looking, nice, a total catch. She knew he would never see her like that and that he probably has a totally hot and rich girlfriend warming his bed right now.
"Yeah," she said with a chuckle, "I have no chance with him. Best to toss this little crush of mine out the window," her sheepish laugh echoed a little in her empty hallway when she shut and locked the door.
The exhaustion from the days events finally hitting her as she made her way to her room so she could finally crash in her bed.
"Though, crushing on him a little won't hurt, right?"
Infinity taglist, please note that for some it says "no blogs found" so I wasn't able to tag you.
@whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant @carvelcakes @itzmeme @nervouschocolatecat @aspiring-bookworm @babyorphanstastegood @lilacskyly @ilovethegold @mythicalsongbird
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juvenillia · 7 months
Text
~ tangled series ~ part 2
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish
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summary: Simon needs some distraction after Johnny is away on a mission for a longer time. So he finds him a casual ons, but just like his partner before he found something different and things become even more complicated.
a/n: Welcome back to part 2 of the tangled series. This time I got a bit carried away but I hope you like it. So yeah still porn with plot, but this time more plot.
cw/tw: suggestive content, pure smut , bi!Soap, bi!Ghost, Ghoap, flirting, petnames, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, drinking, open relationship/situationship, catcalling,
worcount: 5.5k
》Masterlist《 》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《
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Everything turned out to be easier with Johnny at his side. Sure, as hell, that missions became somehow more strained. Simon always wanted to protect all his teammates, no matter the fact that he knew fairly well that every one of the 141 were extremely capable of their tasks. Still, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing even one of them. And as soon as Johnny and him reached an agreement on their relationship terms, Simon became more restless considering the thought of getting the Scot injured. Everyone he ever let get close to him had to follow the sad fate of dying sooner than expected. Always too soon. Maybe that was the reason that Ghost didn’t accept on a serious relationship with him. Maybe that’s why they sorted things out and agreed on a kind of ‘friends with benefits situationship’, with no strings attached. Even if they were more attached than both actually saw.
That’s also the reason he wasn’t feeling alright. He felt more anxious, more at edge lately. Usually, he would drop by that specific Scot to keep his demons at bay. Simon could simply search out for his presence to make himself feel better, but since Soap needed to head out three weeks ago, there was simply no possibility to do so. The radio silence only exacerbated the tension and his nightmares. He couldn’t stay relaxed on leave when he didn’t know how his not-boyfriend was doing right now. What if Simon could change something about the situation? No, Price wanted him to rest after the last operation that took way longer than it was planned.
Maybe all that lead him to this situation. He was seated at a bar he frequented a lot of times when on leave. It wasn’t too far away from the base, just in case. He booked a hotel nearby because drinking and driving is irresponsible. And just like this he spent the nights in the ‘Downunder’. A pub that was run by Steven. Steven was a bit older than him, the owner, and bartender. He did know a lot about good whisky’s, always had a joke at hand, and most important he granted Simon his peace. He could sit there the whole night, listening to talks from strangers, sometimes some good live music, and just sit in silence. Sure, he got approached by some woman and dudes, mostly asking him about the mask, the black skull balaclava he always wore. But most of the times it was calm, and he could drown his thoughts with alcohol, and the best about it, nobody knew him here. Sure, there were some regulars that remembered his mask, but they went after their business and left the Brit alone. Nobody knew his name, or what he was doing for a living.
It was a usual Saturday when he found himself in these familiar surroundings. His glance was on the screen of his phone as he sat at the bar. Pinned on the little last seen status from Johnny that still told him a date about three weeks ago. A deep sigh left his throat. “Tough night?” an unfamiliar voice dragged his attention up. It wasn’t the usual bearded man greeting him behind the bar, it was a younger woman wearing a gentle smile, just polishing a whisky glass. His brows furrowed at the sight, what earned him a quite chuckle from you. “Stevie had a family emergency, so he asked me to fill in for tonight.” You simply placed the glass in front of him. Simon only nodded, somehow annoyed for need to get used to a new person, especially while he was in such an unsettled mood right now. “So, Dalmore Port or Craigellachie?” You placed your palm flat on the wooden counter, next to the still empty glass.
Simon tilted his head slightly and his brows arched even more. “Dalmore Port,” he answered stern, as you turned on your heel with a sweet hum to pull out the bottle and pour him a good glass of the desired drink.
“Not quite the chatter, huh?” you said while shoving the glass over in front of him, your soft smile never leaving your features.
He pulled his mask up only the slightest to reveal the perfect shaped jawline covered in a subtle stubble. Only high enough that the glass could meet his lips, as he shook his head no. “What a shame. Usually, people that sit at the bar are up to talks. But that’s your loss then,” you chimed teasingly throwing him a wink, as you turned your attention to another customer approaching the bar. Simon watched your every movement and something about you got him hooked. The way you talked so melodic, the way you gracefully moved along the bar to prepare the desired drinks. Maybe it wasn’t that bad that Steven wasn’t here. Maybe you were a fresh breeze of distraction for his mind.
From time to time, you tried to start an easy chat with him, but he only shortcut the answers. Somehow distant, still not so fond of the getting to know you part. Still, your features never even faltered a bit, like a natural beam of sunshine. Simon started to ask himself, how a fragile, soft, and pretty figure like you could work in such a place. Stevie entrusted you with the place he called his second child, but what would happen if things escalated? You wouldn’t be able to handle a bar fight, so Simon made sure to spend the whole night here. Just in case, and definitely not for any other reason than that. He knew better than that. Did he though?
That way it was already about one in the morning when the band packed up and left the bar and most of the customers left with them. Only a biker squad at one of the larger tables, something that looked like a bachelor party of some businessmen at another table and some random lonely dudes were left. Simon was one of them. That’s when the bachelor party demanded a larger order for shots and beers and asked if you’d bring them over. The pure nature you were you agreed on it. Nothing unusual to be honest. So, you grabbed a tablet and placed everything on it and made your way over the table. It was the very first time Simon were able to get a concrete look at your whole statue. A pair of black skinny jeans paired with a tight turtleneck that left nothing to the imagination. The little apron wrapped around your waist hugged your curves perfectly fine, as you swayed your hips naturally while walking over the table. Eventually Simon drowned his drink at the sight, before quickly adjusting his mask again.
As you crossed the table from the biker squad, one of the bulky tattooed men whistled after you. It made Simon’s jaw clench, but you just turned gracefully around, not spilling even a drop of liquor in the turn. “I know you like what you see, no need to remind me, Marcus,” you chimed while turning back to your actual direction. Simon’s jaw was still locked. You bend down to the table from the already quite drunken bachelor party and placed the glasses around for each member, before straightening up again. “There you go.” You still wore that same sweet smile.
Just as you turned once more to head back to the bar as one of those men took grip of your wrist. “Why don’t cha stay here, sweetheart.” One of them whined while pulling you back. Tension built in the back of Simon’s muscles, as he watched the scene. Preparing himself to step in.
A sigh left your throat as you tried to keep the happy face up. “Feeling honored, but I still have other customers to serve,” you stated soft. Not moving an inch.
“Nah, they can rot. Stay here.” He pulled you closer that you needed to bend over again, being on eyelevel with the drunken man.
That was the moment when Simon stood up from his place. Eyes glaring at the situation in front of him. But before he stepped in, he noticed the sudden change in your voice. “Sit,” you ordered with such a stoic voice that the man in front of you loosen the grip around your wrist and you straightened your back once more. Such an unexpected tone for your sunshine nature. Simon didn’t know if your order was aimed at him, but he also didn’t realize that the guy from earlier, Marcus was his name, also stood up. Who now slowly sat down again. Simon still stood there, not averting his gaze from you. Your posture was different to before, tense but not frightened. “Listen hun…” Your arms folded over your chest. “I don’t care who you think you are, but you’re nothing more than a cockroach here. If you get on my nerves, you’ll be escorted and not in the way you’d like to.” Your voice was so cold. The man in front of you only gulped. A mischievous grin growing on your lips, your hand slowly moved alongside your curves. “Besides, that’s nothing you could ever afford,” you remarked with more cockiness laying in your tone, before heading back to the bar again.
Simon sat back at his place before you returned. “Impressive…” he stated as he still watched every move you made. It earned him a soft chuckle, as you once more winked at him.
“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” With that statement he felt his cheeks burn. He was really glad that his mask was neatly in place, but still, he couldn’t suppress a low laugh escaping his throat. You reminded him so much of something he missed too much. Just a bit softer, a bit more elegant but as much of a tease and flirt as the Scot.
The rest of the night went on without any more incidents. All customers left the bar sometime after, and that’s how Simon found himself in the cold and dark night in front of the pub. It took you about forty-five minutes to close and clean up. During those forty-five minutes he could’ve walked away, he could’ve simply decided to leave. And still he found himself leaned against a streetlamp, as he decided to insist to walk you home. Making sure you’d arrive save at home. It was an urge he couldn’t fight. He ignited a fag and waited those minutes until he recognized your figure. A smile crept on your face as you took notice of him.
You slowly approached him. “No Mrs. waiting for you?” you asked jokingly while closing your jacket.
“Nah.” That’s the first time he gave some information about him away. His mouth was quicker than his mind. Your intoxicating smile made it hard for him to contain himself, the alcohol rushing through his veins did the rest. His answer made your smile grew.
“I see.” You reached out to steal the fag from his grip to take a drag yourself. The smile never leaving your features as you could feel his intense glance onto you. Eventually you could witness a low growl escaping his throat before he shook his mind clear.
“So, what’s the plan mysterious stranger?” You teased while exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “You gonna drag me to an alley and kill me?” You passed the cigarette back to him and the corner of his lips tugged up.
“Thought ‘f walking ya home, to prevent that exact incident.” He took another drag of the cigarette and could feel a slight burn in his abdomen as he tasted your sweet lip balm on the cigarette.
“A true gentleman, huh?” You grinned “Or a serial killer.”
“Up to ya to find out.” Now it was his time to tease, and it only ignited something within you.
“Good then that I don’t actual live here.” You winked at him as you started to walk into the direction of your temporally home. Simon trailed close behind.
You walked in completely silence, somehow you were too tense to speak right now. He indeed made you nervous now. It wasn’t like you never brought someone over after a long shift or hooked up with someone in a bar. It wasn’t that regular, only guys that somehow really caught your attention. What didn’t happen so often. But this masked man had something on him, that pulled you under his spell. Something you didn’t feel so often.  Rounding a few corners before your stood in front of a not so cozy motel. He insisted to guide you up to your door, and you didn’t argue. How could you when his eyes already burned themselves into your brain.
That way you found yourself in front of the door to your room. “Thanks. Mind to tell me your name, that I can show my gratitude?” You smiled while facing him. Looking in those deep dark orbs his eyes were. He didn’t answer, instead he placed his index finger and thumb under your chin to tilt it up only the slightest. His eyes never leaving yours. The breath got caught into your throat while your lips slightly parted.
Usually he would pull back, call it a night, and give in to his demons. But not tonight. Tonight, he found a soul that could distract him as much as only Johnny could. And he needed that. It was selfish, it was something he didn’t like to do. But what could possibly go wrong? Nothing? Johnny himself did hook up with a girl at some time in their relationship – no situationship. They were okay with it, so why shouldn’t Simon for once have something good for himself.
He stepped forward, invading your personal space while leaning in. His glance still pinned onto yours. “No names,” he breathed out, while his free hand pulled at the hem of his mask. Once more only the slightest to reveal his lips. His eyes checking onto your glance, only to look for hint of hesitation.
“That comes at a price.” Your lips were formed into a smile as you closed the gap. He didn’t care about a price to pay, right now he only wanted this, he wanted you. His grip on your chin tightened as his other hand found your back to pull you closer to deepen the kiss. The sensation in his guts literally burning himself as he tasted your lips, while he already felt his pants tighten. It wasn’t a rough, sloppy kiss, but so passionate. It left you breathless as you parted to open the door. You walked backwards, eyes never leaving the intense glance from the behemoth of a man in front of you. He kicked the door shut as he followed you in.
Both of you removed your jackets as it turned too hot in here anyways. And in an instant, he was back on you. His calloused hands gripping on your waist while you clung around his neck. Slightly slipping under the mask to feel some strains of his hair, while your kisses turned more heated. Until you caught his lower lips between your teeth, and he let out a deep groan that sent shivers down your spine. Back was the grin full of mischief on your lips.
“Mask stays on, I suppose,” you teased while pulling away from him. Slowly walking over to the bed and pulling your turtleneck over your head to reveal your upper body, left only in an all-black laced bra.
“Affirmative,” he stated trailing behind you. A slight giggle run over your lips as you sat on the bed. Reaching out to him to pull him on top of you as you laid down. He followed your lead without hesitation. He was huge, you could feel the bulge in his trousers brushed over your sensitive spot as he leaned down to let his tongue slip into your mouth. You let out a moan at his demanding movements as his hands roamed down your body. His beefy hands felt so rough against your soft skin, and still it was a feeling you somehow missed a lot. He couldn’t help himself but started to grind his hips against your clothed crotch. “’m gonna take ma time with ya.” His hot breath brushed over your skin as he leaned down to place open mouthed kisses along your neck. Your hands found his brawn shoulders as your nails dig in.
Another deep moan escaped your throat as he suddenly stopped. You looked with lust blown pupils and a raised pair brow at him. His lips curled up in a cocky smile. He pulled his hoodie over his head, without disturbing the mask, which stayed magically neatly in place. Just to reveal a tight compression shirt, that clung to his toned body just perfectly. Revealing a tattoo sleeve at one arm and some scars across his skin. One of his hands cupped your breast, when you could hear his deep voice once more. “Ya know the traffic light system.” His hands squeezed your breast as the other took grip of your hip. You nodded eagerly. “Use ya words, luv,” he teased with his thumb along your waistband.
 “Green keep going. Yellow break. Red stop.”, Your breath hitched in the back of your lungs as you felt your body filling with anticipation.
“Good gurl,” he praised, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked over his lips at the sight.
As he fumbled with your trousers to free you, you got a good sight of his hardened member that would await you later. You raised your hips to make it easier for him to took them off, and instant of lowering them again, he pressed your legs up, placing his mouth onto your panties. It earned him another sweet moan. He was way too turned on from the way you reacted to him as he held your legs in place.
“So wet f’ me already.” He pulled your panties aside to let his tongue run through your folds, while one of his fingers circled around your hole.
“Fuck,” you cried out and he once more stopped.
He placed another finger next to your hole, let them get soaked with your liquid. “Color, luv,” he said with such an endearing and at the same time demanding tone, it made your hips thrust.
“Green.” You quickly answered to finally feel the needed friction. And without hesitation he pushed inside while his mouth started to suck at your clit. It made your back arch. It was ridiculous how fast a familiar burn built up in your stomach. The combination of his sucking and his fingers pushing and curling inside you already brought you so close.
Your hands wandering down to grip onto his hair, but you only found the fabric of his mask. “Nuhuh. Be a good gurl f’ me.” It made you moan out as he stopped his movement again. Edging you when you were already out of breath. From the grin he wore you assumed he know fairly well what he did to you. You nodded, as your hands trailed to the sides of you gripping on the sheets. “Better,” he said while he placed his mouth onto you again. “Taste so bloody fuckin’ delicious,” he moaned against your clit while he added another of his beefy fingers to your insides. He could feel how your whole body trembled and how your walls started to clench around his digits. “Cum f’ me, luv.” he groaned while the pace of his digits picked up. And just as he demanded you did, without hesitation. His fingers slowed down as he guided you through your first orgasm. “Gonna be a long bloody night,” he said while sitting back, sucking his fingers clean from your cum. Letting your legs down as you caught your breath.
The now free hand stroked over his clothed cock, that already started twitching at the delicate sight in front of him. You sit carefully up to face him properly. A smile planted on your face. A smile full of mischief. “I hope so,” you stated while moving to sit on your knees. Fumbling with his belt. He instantly pulled you into a deep kiss again and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His mask was soaked in your liquids as much as your panties. A little souvenir you’d grant him. Something he was already grateful for, because he literal could grow addicted to your scent, to your taste. Something he wouldn’t let happen, but right now it was alright. Right now, in the heat of the moment he let it happen and enjoyed it.
Kneeling before him on the mattress you reached out to free his cock, distracted from the dizzying kisses he continued to assault you with. When he finally sprang free you leant down to take him in your mouth, only to startle as he laid down, tugging you with him. His strong arms maneuvering you to sit backwards on his face, letting you brace your hands against his abdomen as he mouthed at your cunt. Licking the drops of pre up from his glossy tip made the behemoth of a man moan deeply beneath you. He instantly started to eat you out once more as you carefully placed your lips around his length. Taking in as much as your throat granted you. Gagging a few times, what only made his member twitch and his mouth groan against your sensitive spot. It didn’t take long until you started to grind yourself over his mouth.
His hands firmly placed onto your ass, squeezing it all so often while one of his fingers circled around the hole that wasn’t occupied by his mouth. He only pulled away for a second when you already spoke up. “Green, god damn.”Before taking his dick back into your throat. Your reaction made him laugh, before he returned to his task. Completely ruining his face with your cum. It was the second time when he pushed you over the edge so effortlessly, it made tears build up in the corner of your eyes from pure pleasure. You needed more; you needed him.
You turned around to place you above his dripping cock, but before you could lower yourself, he switched places with you. Manhandling you like you weighted nothing, and he was between your legs on top of you. “ ‘m not finished with ya.,” he growled while his mouth found yours again. Wiggling his trousers completely of him when his length brushed over your folds.
“Need that. Please,” you whined as the desperate demand in you grew higher. The deep chuckle could be heard once more.
“Such a needy pretty thing.” He let his hard cock once more slide over your cunt. “Ya think ya ready to take me.” One of his hands stroke over your hair, that was slightly dump from the sweat.
You nodded, before you remembered what he wanted to hear. “Green,” you said with a smile. And he looked down at you. His eyes filled with so much lust but at the same time there was adoration hidden behind the darkness of his pupils.
He placed a soft kiss onto your forehead. “That’s ma gurl,” he praised while his teeth locked around your earlobe. He slowly pushed the tip inside and immediately could feel your back arch. He kept him steady on top of you, not lowering himself completely. “Gonna ruin ya f’ any other man out there,” he committed as he pushed deeper and deeper. You whined out at his thickness. “Hush. Ya can take it. I know it.” His soft tone with the lustful deep voice sent you into an addictive haze.
It took him some time to button out, and as soon as you adjusted and gave him another green light he started with an unforgettable pace. “That’s it, luv.” His hands were still on your head, keeping you to face him while he thrusted inside you until you started to see stars. You felt so god damn full and good. The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin smacking against each other combined with his sweet praises. You didn’t know how long it took till you felt his thrusts grew sloppy; you didn’t know how many more orgasms he pulled out of you until then. But the moment came, and you could feel how his body started to give in. Clinging onto yours for the sake of his own life.
That’s when you started to trace lazy circled around his neck. “Just let go,” you said softly with the rest of energy your body held. “Cum inside of me, darling.” Your voice pushing him closer, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Arms slung around you, holding you steady as his thrusts grew slower, but deeper than before. Pushing the spongy spot inside of you. Completely overstimulated you didn’t know if you could just come another time, but it didn’t matter to you. “I wanna feel it.” You assured him one more time, before he completely let go and painted your walls with his cum. Your head falling further back into the pillow as you felt his release.
He collapsed onto you, while your hands stroked over his sweaty body. He needed to pull out, still he couldn’t bring himself to. It was too comfortable, too warm. He could still feel your walls clenching around him. Your voice was the only thing that made him pull back. “Yellow, darling. I think I can’t take anymore.” Your words were filled with so much endearment. It let his stomach turn as he started to clean you and himself up. Not caring about anything, before collapsing onto bed once more.
His head laying onto your bare chest, while his hand took grip around your waist. ”Ya did so good f’ me, luv”. You placed a kiss onto the sweaty fabric of his balaclava.
“Thank you, mysterious stranger.” You giggled when he couldn’t suppress a small laugh. Why did it feel so good and familiar? It was what scared him a bit, but as soon as darkness washed over his sight, he couldn’t care about it anymore. After three weeks he finally found some peace and rest again. Laying here in your arms, where no nightmare could bring him any harm. He was safe.
Simon wasn’t used to one night stands, well not to those ones where he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Usually, he would stay awake till his hook up fell asleep to sneak out of the apartment. But with you? He couldn’t leave. So just like that he woke up the next morning, or better said late afternoon. He couldn’t remember when he slept this long, apart from the time the both of you went to sleep anyway. The scent of freshly brewed coffee woke him up. You stood into the little kitchenette, only a fresh pair of panties and an oversized hoodie.
“Good mornin’ darling,” you chimed while bringing a coffee over to him. As he took the mug, he realized how fucked up this whole situation was. What was if that lead to something wrong? Something he couldn’t provide you with. Something that he swore to Johnny he couldn’t agree on. You could literally see the turns in his head, and just placed another kiss on the stained mask. “Don’t worry. This can stay a casual fling between two strangers,” you cooed with a soft giggle, and he nodded.
Still, when he arrived at his hotel later that day, his head hurt as much as his heart ached. Not because of the alcohol, nor because of the guilt he slept with you. It was of the fact that something in him wanted it to be more. Just like Simon wanted it to be more with Johnny than just a casual fling. But he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t corrupt you into the mess his life was. And he wouldn’t break Johnny’s heart. With you it was easier. He would always hold tight to that night in his memory. Especially when he didn’t have so many memories to think back in happiness. But he hadn’t to face you again, he didn’t even know your name. He could easily return to his life. With this mental note he spent the last few days of his leave alone in a hotel room with the sheer memory of your breathtaking smile and that intoxicating scent, and how good this one would mix with the scent of his beloved Scot.
It was now about two months ago when things settled again. Johnny came back together with their Captain, and everything was alright. Simon’s mind could finally calm down. Even if his dreams often sent him back to that night with you. But right now, there were more important things to do. Price got back with an injury that didn’t allow him to get back to work. So, Ghost had to fill in his position for some time. Nothing he wasn’t used to. But what he wasn’t used to is when this time passed the four-week mark and the three members of the 141 started to worry about their Captain. So, Kyle reached out to him to ask about his status and was somehow surprised when John did invite the three men over for a dinner at his home. Just to catch up about the important things and plan a bit ahead.
That’s how Simon pulled the car into a driveway of a cozy looking home. The drive to their Captain home was filled with heavy assumptions from Kyle and Johnny how he would live, if there would be kids running around and stuff like that. But they had lost all their assumptions as soon as the door opened and they saw a weak looking John, a cast around his left arm and a loop to hold it steady in place. “Come on in boys,” he said while guiding them into a warm living room which also served as dining room. Everyone took a place at the table and soon the three were kind of confused, because the table was prepared for five people, not only for the four of them.
“Is Kate coming?” Kyle asked with a teasing tone, as he took the chair at the head of the table. Simon and Johnny sat down next to each other at the window side, while John sat next to an empty chair, who only shook his head no.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he sighed a bit tense.
Simon pulled out some papers and maps as they chatted a bit about some reports and the last operations until they heard a door open another time. John tilted his head into the direction of the sound. “Need a helping a hand, sunshine?”
“One doesn’t quite do the job.” A muffled female voice echoed through the hallway.
“I have six more to lend now,” he said jokingly as the steps grew louder. The anticipation within the boys only growing. But the image in front of them let their blood run cold. Never had they expected the sight of you walking over to the dining table with your usual sweet smile. Simon could feel a rope lacing around his throat as he was unable to breath. Kyle blinked in utter confusion as you bend over John's shoulder and greeted the men in front of you.
“You’re a bad host John. Not even offering them drinks?” You punched his healthy shoulder playfully. Johnny could’ve sworn he needed to throw up. He never thought he would be able to see you again. The chances were so low, and he was sure if the fates were in his favor, he would be thrilled about it, but now he was only nauseous. Your glance wandered over the table and sigh left your throat. “John…” You straightened, and he mirrored your concerned filled face. “You promised me, no work tonight.”
“Yeah, sunny, you’re right.” The smile growing back on your face as your glance trailed over the boys. “We put it away, right boys?”, the be said men only nodded tense as you winked at them.
“So, three whiskeys, I suppose?” You ruffled through John’s short hair teasingly. Before turning back to the head of the table. “And a beer?” A mischievous smile on your lips before you turned on your heel to get said drinks.
The boys only stared after you, mouths slightly agape. “Stop it.” John had to clear his throat to drag them back into the here and now. Kyle and Johnny only exchanged some quick glances, as Simon sat there in completely silence, his glance still pinned onto you from the corner of his eyes. Nobody thought that things got to be this tangled, but right now, they eventually started to regret a few things, because you were right. Things always had a price.
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amaya-writes · 7 months
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rewatched black clover then saw your event and now i'm thinking how would Finral, Gauche and Leo introduce their fiance to their siblings. for the sake of this req let's say their siblings had no idea they were getting engaged (for Leo maybe his sis knew but brother didn't? idk i cant imagine neither of them knowing)
Ringtober Masterlist
Notes: sorry for the delay!
Warnings: n/a just fluff
Characters involved: Finral Roulacase, Gauche Adlai, Leopold Vermillion
Fem reader, you/yours
Finral Roulacase
His brother needs a minute.
Literally just points at Finral then you and goes you actually managed to convice her to fall for you?
Might make fun of Finral a bit but Finral can tell he's secretly happy for him.
Langris is more interested in the ring than you, he is glad to say that his brother has good taste in jewellery.
They end up discussing family matters after that and what's going to happen with certain pre established marriage agreements.
Overall Langris doesn't really care much, sure he's happy his brother found someone but it's kind of a 'meh' moment for him.
He isn't interested in getting to know you either, in his head you're like the Black Bulls—someone his brother likes but he doesn't particularly care for.
Don't expect to see much of him around either, although he does expect a wedding invite even if he might snark on about not attending.
He does in fact attend.
Gauche Adlai
His sister is so excited it's honestly adorable.
You've already met in the past since Gauche had to introduce the two most important girls in his life to each other, but she gets very excited at the prospect of having you as her future sister.
Gauche has to roam around with tissues because he keeps getting nosebleeds at the idea of the three of you living together like a happy lil family.
Once she finds our you're going to be her future sister in law his sister constantly asks about you when Gauche visits. He almost can't visit her without you because she sometimes seems sad and then Gauche feels very bad.
This one time the two of you got into a fight and she asked about you and told Gauche something along the lines of you better not take my sister away from me and to this day he does his best to never argue with you.
Overall your relationship is really sweet. Since Gauche is kind of like her father figure anyways you sort of become a maternal figure for her.
Leopold Vermillion
Fuegoleon is so genuinely surprised he doesn't even know how to react.
Their parents called all three children to the house for dinner which was surprising in itself, so when he sees you there he is pretty confused.
You're a close family friend, and ever since you were children it was sort of a given that Leo was yours and you were his. You two were just fated to be together.
But Fuegoleon presumed that his parents would at least give him of all people some forewarning before an engagement.
He ends up finding out that Leo actually proposed out of nowhere, you accepted and told both families a few days ago.
So why was Fuegoleon so late to the party?
His sister finds the entire situation funny and doesn't miss a beat before teasing Fuegoleon for being slow and not seeing the signs. Like how Leo suddenly decided to visit their grandfather (for a ring that was pre decided) the day he proposed.
Fuegoleon is honestly very pleased with the entire ordeal. You were always like a little sister to him anyways, but now that relationship is just solidified.
He does however tease Leo quite a bit about being a man and the responsibilities that come with marriage.
He's kind of surprised that Leo is going to be the first of the three of them to be married. That's Fuegoleon biggest concern rather than the sudden announcement.
Mereoleona definitely teases him about how their little brother has a better love life than him.
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bradshawsbaby · 5 months
Text
Letters to My Love // Part X
Rosie the Riveter
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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?
Word Count: 2.9k
Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this story! One of my goals for 2024 is to get this series completed. Although it's taken me so long to update, Bobby and Peach are never far from my mind and are always in my heart. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of their story!
Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.
The title of this chapter is obviously a tribute to the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. But it was also inspired by the song of the same name by The Four Vagabonds, which you can listen to here!
Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, Clara (@luminousnotmatter). She was the first person to listen to all my endless ramblings about this universe, and she has never stopped supporting me or believing that I can get it finished. Thank you, Clara!
Warnings: Alternating POV, references to casualties of war and grief, slight angst, lots and lots of fluff.
July 8, 1943
My Dearest Peach,
I want to start by saying that I’m terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to your last letter. I think I’ve worn down the paper to nearly nothing with how many times I’ve read it, but it’s been hard to get a free moment to sit and write you the response you deserve. Things are really heating up over here, and we have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to start a new letter, only for us to be called up just as I set my pen to the paper.
To set your mind at ease, I want you to know that I’m alright. I’m not sure how much information they’re sharing with you all back home, but I know one of the fellas got a letter from his wife recently and she told him that three different families on their street got notified that their boys had been killed in action in just one week. It made her real scared that she was going to be the next one getting a knock on the door. I won’t lie to you, Peach, because I don’t think that’s fair—we’re losing a lot of men over here. It’s scary to think that any day now, it could be me they’re sending a flag home for.
I hate to start this letter off so morbidly, but there’s been something weighing on my mind lately, especially since my buddy got that letter from his wife. If anything happens to me over here, you won’t know. They’ll tell my family, sure, but not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you waiting for another letter that isn’t going to come. So I’ve spoken to Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny about it. If anything happens to me over here, Peach, they’re going to write to you and let you know. It gives me some comfort to think that their words will be a little softer and kinder than the formality of Uncle Sam.
I hope this doesn’t make you sad, Peach, although I admit it makes me a bit sad to write. The truth is, I’m quite alright right now, like I said, and I don’t plan on letting anything happen to me over here. We have to take that drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier, after all. I tell you, that thought alone is enough to get me through even the hardest days over here.
Alright, enough of all this. Time to get back to your lovely letter. They’re calling us for dinner right now, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m coming right back to continue this letter. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting it to you.
I’m back, Peach. All the fellas were teasing me in the galley because of how quickly I scarfed down my dinner, but I didn’t care because I knew I was getting back to you and your sweet words, and that means a whole lot more than the crummy food they’re serving over here. Boy, I tell you, I sure do miss home-cooked meals. They even had—I’m not lying, I promise—they even had peach cobbler for dessert tonight. It made me think of you, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as the cobbler your family makes, so I didn’t even bother giving it a taste.
Now I do have to say that you’re right, of course. I hate hearing you call yourself shy and mousey. If that’s the way you feel when I call myself boring, then I certainly promise I won’t ever do it again. It’s a deal—neither of us will talk about ourselves like that anymore.
Nothing you say could ever sound silly to me, Peach. Even though we only got to spend a few hours in each other’s company, your letters have made me feel like we’ve known each other for years and years. I’m honored that I’ve been able to make you feel seen. I do see you, Peach. You’re the most beautiful, interesting, intelligent girl I’ve ever known, and I hope you can see that in yourself. For what it’s worth, you’ve helped me to come out of my shell, too. Paul was just saying the other day that I look like a new man—that I’m standing taller and seem more confident than he’s ever seen in all the years he’s known me. I had just finished reading one of your letters when he said that. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You’re turning me into a new man, Peach, and I like it. I like it a lot.
I’m glad that you passed along my well wishes to Emily. Even though part of me still thinks her fiancé is a dunce, I do wish them all the best. Has she heard from Eddie? I don’t know where he’s stationed, but if you’d like to find out and send the information to me, I can try to keep an ear out. How has the wedding planning been going? I’m still confident you’re going to make the prettiest bridesmaid.
I did pass along your invitation in my last letter home to my family, and my mother said she would certainly inquire after the Sheridan residence should she ever happen to find herself in Charleston. I think she’s happy that you and I are still writing to each other. She’s even happier about the thought of swapping recipes with you. Watch out—if the two of you ever do meet, I think she’ll hold you hostage in the kitchen all day.
Now I am very proud to hear about all the fine work you and Dottie have been doing with your Victory Garden. I’m sure there must have been a lot of progress since you last wrote to me! I eagerly await news about the beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. I’m sure you’ve been able to make lots of hearty soups and healthy salads. My mouth is watering at the notion. Like I said, the food in the galley has been pretty crummy lately.
I’m sorry to hear there’s been some trouble back home. I’m sure it can’t be easy for anyone, with all the rationing and the fear and the worry. I promise that we’re doing our best over here to bring this war to an end quickly so that life can return to normal for all of you over there. For us, too. We really can’t wait to be home again.
Peach, I want you to know that it is our duty, our honor, and, quite frankly, our privilege to be fighting for you over here. I know the other fellas would agree with me saying so. So I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything at home to “earn” us fighting for you. That said, I think it’s incredible that you want to contribute to the war effort in that way. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for my response or my approval—which you shouldn’t, by the way—but I give a wholehearted yes to you applying for that position at the air station. We just recently saw Mr. Norman Rockwell’s illustration of Rosie the Riveter on the cover of the Post, and I have to say that I think you’d wear those coveralls a hundred times better.
I’m so proud of you, Peach. I want you to know that.
Speaking of the war effort, we have a couple big campaigns coming up very soon. I can’t say much more than that, but your well wishes and prayers for success would be very much appreciated. I’m always thankful for them.
Until next time, Peach! I’m already counting down the days until your next letter arrives.
Most Truly Yours,
Bobby
P.S. I almost forgot! I told Paul how much you loved the fact that he sends drawings home to Clara and Paul, Jr.—by the way, that reminds me, how is little Frankie doing?—and he was more than happy to create a few illustrations for you. He did a couple portraits—one of me and one of you, based off your beautiful photograph. He said to apologize that he’s too much of an amateur to capture all of your beauty. He did say that he thought he did a fine enough job capturing my likeness—I’m telling you, Peach, I think my friends officially like you better than they like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
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July 31, 1943
My Dearest Bobby,
Please don’t ever feel like you need to apologize for how long it takes you to write back to me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to find the time to write with everything that must be happening over there, and yet you always find the time to pen the most thoughtful and wonderful letters. I cherish each and every one of them, and I promise that I’m more than content to read your old letters as I await the new ones.
I’m so sorry to hear about how many of our boys we’re losing. Just last week, our neighbors, the Pattersons—you remember I mentioned Mrs. Patterson had helped me and Dottie with our Victory Garden?—received news that their son, Clarence was killed in action in France. It was devastating. Dottie and I had just been coming home from the grocery store when we saw the officer standing on their front steps with a telegram in hand. We knew what that meant. Mrs. Patterson has been inconsolable since. Mr. Patterson is equally devastated, but I think he’s trying to be strong for her. Dottie and I have been taking turns cooking meals for them and spending some time over at their house. We just want them to know that they’re not alone.
I admit, Bobby, that every time I hear news of someone else being lost in this war, I immediately think of you. It feels selfish, but I’m always so relieved when the news is about someone else and not you. I don’t know how I would bear it. I pray every day that I never have to receive that letter from Paul or Tommy Boy or Benny, but I am touched that you’ve thought about how I could be notified. Oh, Bobby, I hope more than anything that your parents never have to experience what the Pattersons are going through.
But you’re right—you’re going to come home safely. We have too many plans for you to do otherwise!
I’m sorry to hear that the food aboard your carrier has been so crummy lately. I wish that I could whip up a home-cooked feast and send it in the mail with my letters. Every time I sit down to dinner now, I think of all of you, and I count my blessings. Things aren’t perfect on the homefront, but I know that we certainly have no room to complain with all you boys are going through. I promise to have a peach cobbler waiting for you when you come home—and a pumpkin pie, for good measure.
If I’m turning you into a new man, Bobby, then you simply must know that you’re turning me into a new woman as well. I hardly remember the girl that I was before I met you. Can you believe that it’s been over a year now since our paths first crossed? I feel like my life is totally different now. The way that I see myself, the way I interact with others, the way that I’m not so terrified to step out of my comfort zone anymore—so much of that is thanks to you, Bobby. I’m still me, of course. But I feel like I’m a stronger, braver version of myself now. I like it, too.
It’s so kind of you to offer to keep an ear out for Eddie’s infantry! Emily received a letter from him around the same time that I received my letter from you, and he seems to be doing well, same as you, thank goodness. Eddie is part of the 1st Infantry Division. Emily said that last she knew, he was stationed somewhere near the Rhineland. The wedding planning has been going very well. Pretty much everything is set now—all we need is the groom. Emily can’t wait for Eddie to come home for good. Once he does, they’ll be able to officially set the date. Us bridesmaids are going to be wearing lilac-colored dresses. Dottie says she already knows how she’s going to style my hair. I hope that you’re home, too, when the wedding finally happens. Emily said that I could invite you to be my date. Only if you’d like that, of course.
I would be very happy to be kept hostage in the kitchen with your mother! I’m sure there’s so much I could learn from her, and it sounds like a splendid way to spend the day. I look forward to meeting her one of these days!
Oh, the Victory Garden, Bobby! You wouldn’t believe how it’s grown! Trust me, no one is more shocked than me and Dottie. Well, maybe Paddy. He knows firsthand what brown thumbs my sister and I normally have. At first, we weren’t so sure what was going to happen—the cucumbers seemed a bit small and some of the tomatoes didn’t really take. But by the end of June, everything was thriving! It’s been such a joy to watch, and I have to admit, both Dottie and I are feeling extremely accomplished. Frankie loves to spend time in the garden with us, although he spends a bit more time digging in the dirt than helping us pick vegetables, I’m afraid. Now that we’re in the middle of summer, we’re experimenting with zucchini and eggplant. We might also try radishes and turnips. We’re turning into quite the farmers! If your mother has any recipes to share, we’d be more than grateful and happy to try them out!
Now I admit that I’ve saved the most exciting news for last. At the beginning of June, I decided to go for it and I applied for the position at the air station in Goose Creek, the one Paddy told me about. I’m sure being his sister-in-law gave me a bit of an advantage, but it only took a couple days for me to hear back from them. I got the job! I’ve officially been working on the assembly line since the middle of June. It’s hard work, and I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but I have to say that I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. It’s funny that you mention Rosie the Riveter—my job these past few weeks has actually been to fasten pieces of the planes we’re assembling with rivets! So I guess you could call me Peach the Riveter. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though, does it?
I know that the chances are small that anything I’m helping to build is going to reach you specifically, Bobby, but I can’t help but smile every time we finish a new part, or get a new plane put together. I imagine you and Paul, or Tommy Boy or Benny hopping inside and it brings me more pleasure and pride than I could possibly explain. I feel like I’m doing something important, something meaningful and special. If spending hours riveting until my fingers turn numb brings you home even a day faster, then it will all have been worth it. And it gives me a real sense of purpose, driving to work each day with Paddy. I feel proud of myself.
I’ve made some new friends at work, too! Florence and Virginia—we call them Florie and Ginny—are the loveliest, kindest girls. They had already been working on the assembly line for a few months before I got the job, so they’ve been showing me the ropes and teaching me everything they know. They’ve made me feel so welcome, so a part of things. I have to admit that I was terrified my first week or so, terrified that I was going to mess something up or make a fool of myself. But I’ve settled in quite well, thankfully.
It means a lot to me to know that I have your support, Bobby. Truly, it does. Thinking of you and all that you’re doing to protect us is what really motivated me to take this job, so thank you.
Of course I’m sending all my best wishes for the campaigns you have coming up! Wherever you are right now, I pray that you’re safe and that your missions are successful.
You’re so brave, Bobby. Have I told you that lately? Even if I have, you deserve to hear it again. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re my hero.
I hope this letter gets to you soon. I wish it could grow wings and fly to you. I know time is going to pass so slowly until I’m holding a new letter from you in my hands. But until then, Bobby, I’m thinking of you and holding you in my heart.
Most Truly and Affectionately Yours,
Peach
P.S. Paul is quite the artist!!! I now have his portraits hanging right beside the photographs you sent me. Please tell him how talented I think he is, and how much I love the drawings he made for me! I was especially touched by the little note he wrote me on the back of your portrait. I hope he’s doing well. Send my best to him and Tommy Boy and Benny!
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TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @cadencebeat2662 @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos @callsign-magnolia @the-wayward-daughter @becks-things @jostyriggslover96 @solo-pitstop-vibes @wretchedmo @muddwheelz123 @ryebecca @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts
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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
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HI HI it’s me (i’m the problem, it’s me) the sugu romance is dead anon back craving more angst 🥺
Can I have some Suguru, Insecurity, “We’re better off as friends.”
I’ve been in your blog since your birthday and I just wanna thank you for writing all these, they have become my bedtime stories. Love, sugu anon 🫶🫶🫶
HAI SUGU ANON HOW ARE YOU?! I'm so sorry this is so late, I got preoccupied with Better off as Lovers and the page refresh, along with trying to survive in capitalism (boo, lol). But I didn't forget about you! And I am so excited to present you with this!
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featuring: an insecure Suguru Geto, making the worst mistake of his life.
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Suguru loved you more than he thought was possible to love another human. He didn’t even love himself as much as he loved you. And it terrified him. You were everything he wasn’t, but tried to be. You were caring, considerate, creative, and so warm to everyone you ever met. He tired to embody those traits with you, but he just..couldn’t. It was like you were golden, but he was just golden plated.
He’d spent the last six months trying to get over these feelings of inadequacy. To remind himself that it was all in his head. You had to see something in him, right? Some shimmer of something good. You wouldn’t be with him otherwise, right? That thought would comfort him for all of two seconds before he would remember he was a con man at heart, and that he simply had you fooled; the same way he had everyone else fooled. 
He held these feelings since the two of you started this relationship, but he had them mostly under control. He had himself convinced that while he had these feelings, it ultimately didn’t matter because you two were meant to be together. It was why the two of you clicked to easily when you first met, why it felt so right to hold you in his arms, why the two of you were put into such close proximity in the first place! The universe had put the two of you together for a reason. Who else would you even be with?
Then Gojo just had to go and open his fucking mouth. Drunken one night in “Casa Gojo” while the two of them watched some shitty movie. Suguru didn’t even remember the name of the film anymore. But he did remember the glassy haze in his best friends eyes as he slurred his confession, like a sinner begging for forgiveness. 
“I think I’ve had a crush on her since I first looked at her,” Gojo mumbled, looking at Geto with sad, sleepy eyes. “But, you guys got along so well, and she seemed so into you, I just…I didn't pursue anything. I didn’t want to steal her from you, I guess.” He laughed, but there was no humor. Suguru wasn’t laughing.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, voice coming out as more of a forced whisper than much else. Gojo just shrugged.
“I don’t know. Get it off my chest, I guess?”
That night hadn’t left Sugurus head. He had justified your relationship by it all being fate, something that was inevitable; it had to happen. But what if he had gotten in the way of his best friends fate? Gojo was better than him in every conceivable way, and he got along with you just as well. Who’s to say Suguru wasn’t the one holding you back all this time? He was an anchor for everyone he had ever loved, and it wasn’t fair for him to keep insisting you drown with him. Something had to give. 
All of this had led him here: sitting back to back with you on opposite sides of his bed; trying to pretend he didn’t hear the sobs wreaking your body. Pretending like he wasn’t fighting off his own tears.
“I’m sorry Y/n, I just think were better off as friends-” 
“Yea, I heard you the first time!” You snapped at him, shutting him up instantly as you wrapped his hoodie tighter around your shoulders. You hated the comfort you found in it now. “I’m still waiting for your real reason. Did I do something wrong?” You begged him for explanations he couldn’t give, explanations he didn’t have.
“No!” He sighed, “No, it’s not you, you’re perfect. I just…I’m not in love with you anymore.” He forced himself to say. The words tasted bitter on his tongue, like vomit and battery acid. Truth be told, he was sure he’d love you for the rest of his life. As far as he was concerned, the sun rises in the morning just for you, and the stars dazzle the night sky solely in the hopes you’d glance at them. Knowing he was holding you back from those stars made him feel like he was made of sludge. He couldn’t keep holding you back like this.
“What do you mean you’re not in love with me?!” You sobbed, feeling your heart shatter into a million more pieces, “How do you just fall out of love with someone Suguru, I don’t understand! Is there someone else?” Is that what you needed to believe to accept this? Fine. He could be the villain.
“I didn't mean for it to end up this way Y/n.” He muttered, his voice little more that a choked whisper, “It’s just…we met for drinks one night, one thing led to another-”
“Oh my god.” You cut him off, looking as sick as he felt. “Who is she?!” You demanded.
“No one you know.” He couldn't give you the name of someone who didn’t exist. He could give you someone to blame for all this, some tangible reason why it was happening, but for some reason his heart drew the line at naming the imaginary woman he gave up everything for.
“How long?”
“Three weeks I think?” He mumbled, running a shaky hand through his hair. He hated lying to you. You suddenly stood up, taking his hoodie off and throwing it at him with enough force for it to hurt. You walked to stand in front of him.
“You fucking disgust me Suguru Geto,” You hissed, letting your rage overtake your heartbreak.
“I know.” He disgust himself.
“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking letting myself fall in love with you! I don’t know who I’m more mad at, me for having the gaul to imagine a life with you, or you for throwing it all away. You are so fucking-” sobs cut off your words, you covered your mouth as you took your time to try and regain your composure. “I can’t believe you’d so this to me..”
Suguru felt his soul crumble. He wanted to wipe your tears away, hold you close and tell you about his lie. To tell you there was no other woman- just him and his insecurities- through a myriad of apologies. He wanted to fall to his knees before you and beg for forgiveness, some way to make it right and go back to how the two of you were an hour ago.
He couldn’t do that though. He couldn’t keep asking you to drown with him. You were meant for stars, not the bottom of the ocean. “I’m sorry Y/n.” was all he could say.
“Like that does shit now.” You scoffed, “Thanks for ruining me asshole.” You hissed, the vitriol in your voice hurting more than any physical attack ever could. You stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door hard enough to shake his walls. He fought the urge to chase after you. To hold you again. He took a deep breath and mentally tried to end the best chapter in his life. He called Gojo.
“Geto? It’s like 2 Am dude, what’s going on?” He asked through a tired yawn.
“Y/n and I broke up. She probably shouldn’t be alone. I hope you two are happy together.” That last part came out with way more disgust than he meant it to.
“Wait, what? Du-” Geto hung up before Gojo could finish his sentence. He ignored the next 5 calls that came through before finally just turning off his phone.
He laid in bed staring at his ceiling. In his soul he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. His bones already ached for your familiar comfort, and his heart felt like it couldn’t find it’s rhythm again. Still, it would be worth it if the two best people he knew could find happiness together. He sighed, feeling his lungs collapse with the breath. He could swear he felt his gold plating rubbing off.
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munsons-maiden · 2 years
Text
𝐀 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
Here’s the Orpheus & Eurydice AU oneshot I promised - it’s angst WITH a happy ending though because Eddie Munson deserves all the happy endings. I hope you enjoy it! - Love, Kiki ♡
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Eddie Munson x female reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | With the love of your life dead in your arms and your heart shattered to pieces, you’re ready to make that deal with God and swap places. Everything to bring Eddie back. But the only God in this dark place, frozen in time and filled with monsters, is not a benevolent one. And when you agree to his deal to play the game of gods and monsters and bring Eddie back, you know you it might be a losing game. You heard that story before - and it never has a happy ending. Now it’s on you to trick the fates and rewrite Eddie’s stars.
Inspired by this ask I got ♡  
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, a bit of smut
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k 
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | death but not permanent (I mean he has to die first if we want to bring him back from the dead), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence, contains traces of SMUT as a treat (not explicit but definitely implied so 18+ only please!)
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.  
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
*whispers* This is for you, Eddie.
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You’d known you were too late when you raced towards the swarm of bats pouncing from the sky, a maelstrom of wings and talons and teeth, the air pierced by their blood-curdling shrieks – and Eddie’s scream.
A battle cry fading into a howl of pain that bled into the air.
You’d known you were too late when you finally reached him, tearing and ripping at the beasts pinning him to the ground, devouring him alive while the first of them started to falling from the skies.
Known you were too late when you fell to your knees with a cry of his name, and his dark eyes found yours.
When flashes of lightning bled through the thunderclouds above to paint the skies a deep, dark crimson. The same deep, dark crimson that bloomed on the white fabric of Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, like red roses on fresh snow.
Running from his lips as Eddie’s dark eyes found yours while you pressed your hands over his wounds, a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding, buy more time –
But there were too many wounds.
Too much blood.
Coating your hands, sticky and warm like the tears that ran down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
It wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
You both knew it.
The smile curving Eddie’s blood-smeared lips was a real one. Sad and proud and loving and bittersweet all at the same time. It was an unspoken farewell.
“I didn’t run this time,” he breathed.
It took everything in you to suppress the sob clawing at your throat. “No. No, you didn’t. You’re a hero, Eddie.”
“Told ya it’s gonna be my year.”
“It is. It is, okay?”, you breathed, “It’ll be. It will –“
“When you walk that stage…,” Eddie choked, “And grab your diploma…flip Higgins the bird for me, yeah?”
“You’ll flip him the bird yourself, Eddie. When…when you snatch your own diploma, okay? You’re gonna do it, and then we’re going to run like Hell out of there. Out of this fucking school, this fucking town. Just…away. Together.”
“Hey, sweetheart?”
The sob ripped free at the sound of the term of endearment, so beautifully familiar. “Yeah?”
“I love you. You know that, right?”, Eddie whispered, and the tenderness in his gaze even in death was so him, so Eddie, “I always loved you. It’s always been you.”
“Please don’t say goodbye, Eddie,” you whimpered, the flood of tears choking you, “Please. You…I need you to stay with me. Okay? Stay with me. Stay with me –“
But like the flame of a candle snuffed out by the wind, the light vanished from Eddie’s beautiful umber eyes, still trained on you as if he’d wanted to make sure you’d be the last thing he would see.
For a heartbeat, time froze.
The world stood still as more and more of the bats fell from the skies, hailing down all around you, the whirr of their wings and the thuds of their bodies hitting the ground the only sound to fill the silence.
And something broke.
Shattered.
Deep within your chest, your heart, your very soul.
It took you a moment to realize that the anguished scream piercing the cold air of this forlorn realm was your own.
Because the moment the life had been snuffed out of Eddie’s eyes, stolen, his body going limp in your arms…everything in you turned as cold and dark and dead as this realm around you.
You didn’t feel the cold anymore, the pain in your own body where the dying creatures had hacked teeth and claws into your own skin as you’d started to rip them away from Eddie. You didn’t care anymore why they were dying, or what would happen to Hawkins. To the rest of the world.
Why would you? A world without Eddie was as empty and forlorn as this one.
With the blur of tears veiling your vision, Eddie’s limp form in your arms and his blood coating your hands, you squeezed your eyes shut.
“You took him.” Your voice was broken, barely a whisper, while the shards of your shattered heart were piercing and tearing at your insides as everything in you was falling apart. The words weren’t a plea, but a command as you breathed, “Take me too.”
You waited.
For your bones to snap like twigs.
For the God of this forsaken realm to claim you like he’d claimed the love of your life.
The bats kept falling from the skies, fewer and fewer of them, their tails trailing behind them like lonely paper streamers at the end of a party.
The spores kept floating through the air, like the slow flurry of snow trapped in a snow globe, with you sobbing over Eddie’s body, a nightmare forever frozen in time behind polished glass.
But Vecna didn’t deign to take you as well, out of this world that had lost all its light and all its reasons to be saved because it had turned into a world without Eddie, without his sunshine smiles and warmth and kindness, his singing and his weirdness and his laughter.
The tears kept falling from your eyes while your body went numb with the agony of your overwhelming grief as you bent over, your forehead resting against Eddie’s, and wept.
For the boy who’d always fought the odds with the cards the fates had dealt him.
Who’d chosen kindness over and over again when it would have been so much easier to let the scorn and bullying he’d faced for being different turn his heart hard and cold.
Who’d dreamed of leaving this small-minded little town behind with you. Of walking that stage, and finally snatching that diploma.
For the boy you’d always love more than everything in this world.
You’d sell your soul to turn back the clocks, to unravel the tapestry of time, grasp the frayed ends and weave the threads back together into a happy ending.
Or simply to rewind time like a VHS tape, and press pause in one of the countless happy moments. Maybe to be frozen in a tiny little snow globe world wasn’t bad if the moment was a good one.
And there had been so, so many good ones.
You would have followed Eddie Munson out of this cursed town. You’d have followed him everywhere.
You didn’t know how long you’d wept – but it couldn’t have been long. Eddie’s blood had yet to dry on your hands, the warmth yet to fad e from his skin.
And with grim determination, at the frayed dark edges of the grief pulling you under, an idea took root in your mind.
The lyrics of Max’s song echoed through your memory.
And if I only could make deal with God, I’d get him to swap our places.
You would. Without a second of hesitation. Trade your soul for Eddie’s, bring him back, put the life back into his beautiful umber eyes.
If only there was a god.
If only, among all the monsters, there was a god who would listen.
But…there was.
You just needed to make him hear you.
Grim determination flooding you, you slowly raised your head.
Eddie’s gaze, unseeing, was trained on the skies above, the ghost of his smile lingering on his blood-stained lips. His dark hair formed a midnight-black halo around his head, the white particles settling in his curls like tiny snowflakes. Like stars in a night sky.
“No matter how this story ends…I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson,” you breathed, before you leaned down to place one last kiss on his forehead, the soft curls spilling from the black bandana tickling your cheeks.
And with all this love and grief flooding you, sweeping you away, a newfound determination, grim and fierce, blazed through your veins as you slowly rose to your feet.
Where you would go, you couldn’t take him.
Your voice was steeled with the force of your blinding wrath at the unfairness of it all, of loss and grief and that wild, desperate flutter of hope as it rang through the still air of this dark place.
“VECNA! COME AND GET ME!”
The bats had stopped falling.
There was no wind in the air, no noise apart from the thunder in the distance, crimson lightning bleeding through the clouds, the exact shade as Eddie’s blood coating your hands, slowly drying.
“DO YOU HEAR ME?! COME AND GET ME, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”
You grabbed the discarded makeshift-spear from the ground. It had fallen out of Eddie’s grip when the bats had sunken their teeth into his skin, forced him down.
“IS THAT ALL YOU CAN DO?!”, you screamed into this frozen void. You didn’t care if it would draw in more monsters. You didn’t care for the monsters of this realm anymore – all you wanted was to face their god. “IS THAT IT?! SENDING YOUR BEASTS WHILE YOU STAY IN HIDING LIKE A FUCKING COWARD?! COME AND FIGHT ME!”
You felt him before you saw him.
There was a shift in the air like ripples across a lake, raising the hair on your necks, a tingle like a swarm of spiders skittering down along your spine.
Max had described him to all of you, after she’d escaped him in the graveyard.
Rotten flesh, covered by writhing creeping vines.
Eyes as cold as the realm he’d made his home.
But nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you as you whirled around, your fist tightening around the makeshift-spear – because the eyes staring back at you weren’t the icy blue you’d come to expect.
They were dark, a beautiful, familiar shade of umber so opposing to the hollow coldness within them, sharp and hard as the edge of a knife. So out of place in Eddie’s eyes.
“No,” you breathed, shrinking back, away from this monster which dared to wear the face of the love it had just ripped from you.
“Is this not what you wanted, girl?”
The voice filling the air as he spoke wasn’t Eddie’s. It was the thunder in the bleeding crimson skies and the shriek of distant monsters in the air. It was the writhing of creeping vines on the ground, the vibration of the earth; an echo of a thousand voices that had become one.
He wasn’t here, not really. You knew how you looked like right now, outside of this illusion Vecna was creating – your body rigid, eyes white, frozen in place beside Eddie’s lifeless form on the cold ground. You’d seen it once, when he’d nearly gotten Max.
Vecna tilted his head, his face – the face he’d stolen – a frozen mask as white spores settled in his dark curls, the lack of light turning the dark chocolate brown into a deep inky black; curls you’d run your hands through countless times, playing with the strands, Eddie’s head in your lap as he read The Lord Of The Rings to you. Curls tangling around your fingers as you drew him closer to deepen a kiss, to whisper confessions of love.
Bile rose in your throat, bitter and burning and acidic, at the cruelty of Vecna’s mask.
Eddie’s eyes – but void of the warmth and kindness and humor they’d been brimming with. Eddie’s lips, void of the tender smile which had always played them when he’d looked at you.
Vecna had taken what you loved the most and twisted it into a nightmare to drive the blade deeper into an already fatal wound, simply because he could.
He was watching you; that predatory, icy gleam shining so horribly misplaced in Eddie’s gentle eyes that you wanted to break down and weep all over again.
“I want him back,” you breathed. “Take me instead. I won’t fight you. I won’t try to escape. Give him back, and I’ll follow you willingly.”
Vecna stepped closer, the expression in his eyes the sharp gleam of a bird of prey ready to pounce, to hack its talons into his squealing, writhing prey as he drew every last drop of anguish from their minds, feeding on their pain like a leech sucking blood.
Your grip around the makeshift spear was so tight that you feared your knuckles might pop with the strain as you refused to shy away any farther.
“I have no need for you to follow me willingly. I can take whatever I want to take.”
Vecna’s hand came up, slowly – the gesture of someone who knew he had all the time in the world – and nausea churned in your guts as the pad of his thumb caught one of your tears, his eyes, these beautiful dark eyes stolen from Eddie, locked firmly on yours.
“You already have,” you whispered. “You can’t take anything else from me because you’ve already taken everything. And I’ll take it back.”
I ran, Max’s words echoed in your mind. I ran, and then I was in that…that place. Where he’d put all the others before me.
Every realm had its god, and every Underworld its king. And every king…had a castle. You only needed to find it.
With a swift motion, you thrust out the spear, the red face of the demon glaring on his Hellfire Club shirt turning into the bulls-eye for your blade.
And with Vecna’s howl – not of pain but fury – booming through the air, you whirled around and ran.
Stumbling over writhing vines, not looking back whether Vecna was following behind, you raced into the looming woods at the edge of the trailer park, towards the fog in the distance, the crimson light seeping through the swirls and wisps like blood.
And when you reached it, hands outstretched, the edge of this illusion Vecna had created in your mind, the ground shifted, sending you stumbling to the floor, the skin on your palms tearing open as you caught yourself and pushed back to your feet to face your new surroundings.
It was just like Max had described. Crimson light, the hollow, distorted ticking of a clock, floating debris. The door with the red flowers made of stained glass like a heart at the center of Vecna’s lair.
Doors and stairs leading into nowhere.
Pillars reaching into the low, crimson skies – and on these pillars…
Vecna’s victims.
All of them.
Their bodies disfigured, limbs broken; hollow sockets where their eyes had been, mouths agape in frozen screams, forever muted in death. Like a horrid assortment of butterflies, their fragile wings pinned and preserved beneath eternal glass cases to decorate a lepidopterist’s walls.
That’s what Vecna was.
A collector of souls and horror.
The scream lodged at the back of your throat ripped free to form his name, Eddie’s name, as you fought for your feet to move, fought your body’s urge to bend over and retch as if somehow, magically, it would chase the cruel images away.
But there was no time.
And so, you stood still, feet anchored to the ground as you spun in a slow circle, eyes scanning the collection of horrors preserved all around you.
The Creels; mother and daughter side by side. Chrissy and Fred and Patrick.
And –
“Eddie.”
Your voice was less than a whisper as you stumbled the last few steps towards him, tears streaming down your eyes in hot rivulets as you reached him.
Eddie was bound to the pillar closest to the solitary stained-glass door; thick, writing creepers wrapped around his wrists to hold him in place, curling around his throat in a deadly chokehold.
Another beautiful butterfly trapped in Vecna’s collection.
But unlike the others, Eddie’s limbs weren’t broken; his eyes not amiss but closed, his features serene as his dark curls spilled around his face. A horrid, twisted version of sleeping beauty.
And in this story, true love might not be be enough to break the curse.
“Eddie,” you breathed, your hands reaching out, thumbs caressing his cheeks. “Eddie, I’m here. I’m going to get you out of here. Just hold on. Hold on a bit longer. Please, please hold on, do you hear me?”
There was the softest of flutters of his eyelids, fleeting and ephemeral enough to make you wonder if you’d simply imagined it.
With a barely suppressed howl of rage, you ripped at the vines around Eddie’s throat, tearing them away as your fingertips dug into the gooey black tissue of the creepers.
They came away writhing and hissing, their black blood seeping over your hands, mingling with the crimson stains of Eddie’s blood on your palms as screeches and hisses rose like a chorus of echoes in the air.
He knew. If Vecna hadn’t already known you were here, he would, now.
And time was running out like sand slipping through your fingers.
One by one, the vines came away beneath your hands, revealing angry red marks crisscrossing the pale skin of Eddie’s neck that only fueled your rage, this blinding, white-hot wrath that felt like it was burning you alive.
You wanted to hurt Vecna, hurt every last thing in this forsaken realm.
When the last of the creepers around Eddie’s throat came lose, his head lolled forward, against your shoulder, and a tremor ran through his body as you moved on to free his wrists, the black blood of the vines cold as it ran over your down your arms while you dug your nails into the creepers to shred them beneath your hands like paper.
It was easy, you realized when they came loose, Eddie’s wrists slipping free as he fell forwards, a limp weight in your arms.
Too easy.
“Do you truly think you can save him?”
There was mock in Vecna’s voice as it boomed through the air from behind you while you sunk to your knees in an attempt to support Eddie’s weight, keep him from falling over as, with a weak susurration, Eddie pleaded, “Go. Leave.”
“Not without you.”
Eddie’s hands came up to cradle your face, his skin cool, colder with every second that ticked by as the life drained out of him, and the tears – of despair, this time – started flowing as he rested his forehead against yours.
“I didn’t die for you to die for me, ya know,” he breathed, his nose brushing against yours as his eyes – his eyes, so warm and gentle and brimming with love – found yours, the ghost of his old humor laced in his voice. “Go. Live.”
“Not without you,” you echoed your own words once more.
Vecna’s chuckle rose in the air like a horrid echo. “You are a fighter for sure.”
A cry ripped from you as something cold and wet wrapped around your left ankle, dragging you backwards, away from Eddie as Vecna mused, “Stay with me, and you stay with him.”
“No,” Eddie’s weak whisper floated through the air as he reached out for you, a desperate attempt to grab you as he sunk to the ground, his mess of black curls spilling around his pale features.
You fought with every last ounce of strength left in you, every remaining dreg of willpower as you thrashed against Vecna’s creepers as they curled around your ankles, your wrists, pulling you away from Eddie and backwards to one of the still empty pillars, rendering you so utterly, utterly helpless as desperate sobs ripped from your throat.
Not for yourself, but for Eddie, cowering on the ground.
“Your suffering,” Vecna droned, stepping closer, the façade of his stolen face crumbling, the pale skin on his cheeks rotting away to reveal tendons and muscle beneath as those stolen umber eyes watched you intently while he drew closer, a predator stalking its prey, “Is almost at an end.”
The vines had reached your throat, cold and slippery, squeezing as your back met the pillar while Vecna’s mask melted away, wilted away, his form decaying in a gruesome, cruel promise of what would happen to Eddie’s body if your desperate attempt to save him failed.
And failing, it was.
Once again, Vecna’s hand found its way to your face, a long, sharp fingernail dragging along the side of your cheek, tracing the glittering streaks of tears as Eddie hissed, “Stay. Away. From her.”
Over Vecna’s shoulder, you could see how Eddie fought himself to his knees, ringed fingers digging into the dirt for purchase as he pushed himself off the ground with every last ounce of strength left in him while the creepers and your own tears choked your voice.
“Don’t try to put up a fight you cannot win, boy,” Vecna crooned, his eyes still watching you and his voice almost gentle as his other hand raised in the air, a flick of his index finger enough to make more creepers sprout from the ground, wrap around Eddie’s ankles to rip him off his feet again – but Eddie didn’t surrender. His dark eyes locked on you, the bandana slipping off his head to release the mess of his wild curls as he struggled and fought against the creepers, he hissed, “I said. Don’t. Touch. Her. You ugly. Fucking. Boogeyman.”
For a split second…Vecna flinched as Eddie called him Boogeyman. As if the insult had actually hit home.
Of course it had, it dawned on you.
All this doling out judgement, deciding who lived and who died, his message for the little girl which had defeated and banished him here – in his own eyes, Vecna was the god of this mirror realm as much as he was in yours.
A banished god, but a god nonetheless.
And if the stories humankind had been telling since the beginning of history had taught you one thing…it was that gods got bored.
Before the creepers slithering up your throat, your chin, could reach your lips to mute you, you spat, “Let’s play a game.”
Your eyes found Vecna’s, icy blue seeping through the warm umber of his irises as his mask kept melting away.
“I don’t play games.”
“Don’t you get bored?”, you choked out, the creepers’ grip around your throat tightening further, “Banished by a little girl. Banished over and over again. Don’t you want revenge? Don’t you want to hurt us all for what we keep doing to you?”
“Yup, um,” Eddie choked, “Sweetheart…you’re not…helping –“
“I am hurting you right now,” Vecna crooned, Eddie’s voice dying with the tightening of creepers around his throat, and rage burned in your chest as Vecna dragged the back of his index finger along your jaw.
“Not as much as you could,” you breathed, oxygen running out. You could see the gleam of cruelty, of interest, in those eyes, fully blue now, like a lake frozen in eternal winter. He was listening.
You needed to make it count.
“Let us go,” you forced out, “And see how far we can run. If you’re as powerful as you think you are – there’s nothing left for you to lose and a lot of entertainment to win.”
The smirk playing on this creature’s rotting lips was sickening, when he crooned his reply. “I have a better idea.”
You waited for the vines to squeeze your windpipe, throttle you, snap your bones – but their grip…loosened.
You fell to the ground, on your knees in front of Vecna’s decaying, mutated form, your teeth gritted as a claw-tipped index finger locked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to force you to meet his cold eyes when he drawled, “You wanted to make a deal. To stay with me in his stead.”
“Yes,” you whispered.
“NO!”, Eddie howled, but the vines clamped over his mouth, his eyes wide as tears of panic and terror and despair streamed down his face, smearing the soot and the blood on his cheeks.
“Here is my deal, girl,” Vecna cooed. “Run. Run away and leave him here with me and don’t look back. Not once. If you look back before you’ve reached the edge of my realm, I will keep both of you. If you don’t, and if you make it past my army – I will give him back to you.”
You knew what Vecna was doing. You knew the story and you knew it didn’t have a happy ending.
A tale as old as time.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”, you hissed.
Vecna tilted his head, the skin on his cheek shriveling away with the movement to reveal pale bone and teeth beneath.
“You won’t. I might be many things – but I am no liar. But you better hurry if you want to save him,” Vecna droned, trailing his finger down your throat, over the vines that heeded his command, loosening, slithering down to the ground, “Because time is running out. There is only so much even I can do when a heart has ceased beating for long enough.”
With these parting words hanging in the air of his lair, Vecna stepped away from you, and the rest of the vines retreated to set you free.
As if on cue, there was a last deep, distorted tick of the grandfather clock floating in the distance.
With a last glance at Eddie, his eyes screaming at you to run, you did exactly that.
You turned heel, and you ran.
At first, nothing happened.
You’d anticipated monsters, another swarm of bats, vines, something.
The absence of all these things could only mean that Vecna had something else in store for you.
Something worse than his vines and his monsters.
But the one thing you could do right now was continue to run.
And you did.
Breaking through the wall of mist, you were back in the woods, beneath the crimson thunderclouds glaring through the naked branches of the trees, your pants echoing through the air as your legs carried you faster than you’d ever run, the edge of the woods already in sight –
A scream pierced the air. Laced with raw, primal anguish.
Eddie’s scream, calling out for you.
You froze dead in your tracks.
A trick. It was a trick. Eddie was with Vecna. Eddie was still there, left behind because that was the deal, and this was nothing but a trick to make you turn around and lose the bargain.
To condemn Eddie and yourself to eternal Hell in Vecna’s lair.
A second scream rang through the air of the woods, even more tormented than the first one.
“HE TRICKED YOU! VECNA TRICKED YOU!”
No. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t –
Why couldn’t he?
It was the game of gods and monsters you were playing.
You’d left Eddie behind, in this horrible place, among the rotting souls of Vecna’s victims, his collection of butterflies, all for a monster’s promise?
“MAKE IT STOP!”, Eddie’s screams filled the air, “PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP! HELP ME!”
“It’s a trick,” you whimpered. You knew the story. Vecna sure as Hell knew it, too. Orpheus turns, Eurydice stays damned, they both die in the end.
But these screams, the pictures they painted in your mind…they were made from the fabric of nightmares.
He had Eddie. He still had your sweet, gentle Eddie, locked up in this place of horrors.
And with a glance at the trailer park in the distance, the trailers dark silhouettes against the crimson skies, you realized that Vecna hadn’t needed to trick you. You’d done that all on your won.
Because of course you were still trapped in Vecna’s vision.
Without music.
Oh god.
In all your grief and despair, so hellbent on bringing Eddie back…not once had you thought about bringing yourself back as well.
You didn’t have music to break the curse. And Dustin – Dustin was with the others, having sought them out because you and Eddie had sent him there, out of harm’s way.
There was no one left to put a pair of headphones over your ears.
And Vecna had known it all along.
That’s why he’d agreed.
It had been a losing game all along.
“No,” you whispered, slowly sinking to your knees while the tears started falling again, Eddie’s screams filling the air, and your hands pressed over your eyes as if there was any chance to keep the flood of images at bay of all the horrible things Vecna could be doing to Eddie right now, doing to him because you’d left him there. “No, no, nonononono NO! STOP!”
But it didn’t stop.
“MAKE IT STOP!”, Eddie’s scream laced with your own, “PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! HELP ME! PLEASE, COME BACK!”
Your head snapped up at these words, breath catching in your throat.
These screams couldn’t belong to Eddie.
It was his voice, but these weren’t his words – because Eddie wouldn’t scream for you to come back. No matter the torture Vecna could concoct for him, Eddie would want you to run, to leave him in that place, because he’d wanted you safe. That’s why he’d cut the rope, had darted out of the safety of the trailer and right into certain death to buy more time. Not for the others, but for you.
Which meant Vecna was trying to trick you right now.
Which, again, meant he knew there was a way out, other than with music.
A hidden path to break the spell from within.
And he was distracting you so you wouldn’t find it.
Hands pressing over your ears to drown out the screams, your mind was going a mile a minute.
What had Max told you?
The red realm, the pillars, Vecna’s victims. The remains of Creel House, the floating clock, the light seeping through the red petals of the flowers in the stained-glass window.
Music, Kate Bush’s voice ripping the fabric of Vecna’s curse, opening a window back to reality.
I thought of when I was happy.
Happy.
Happy memories.
If Max was sure she could hide in a happy memory – maybe a happy memory would be the key to unlock the door even without music.
Your eyes squeezing shut, the screams that weren’t Eddie’s in the air, you thought of him.
How you’d always watched him in English Lit class, the movement of his hands as he drew little doodles to the pages of his books, all over his notes. Bats and guitars and random chords, little demon faces and monsters. Admiring him from afar, this dangerous looking guy with the mane of dark curls that wasn’t black but the soft brown of dark chocolate, with his tattoos and rings and ripped jeans and leather jacket, the guy most people steered well clear of because he was a freak dealing drugs.
How one day, he’d caught you watching him in class – and had given you the most timid yet dazzling smile you’d ever seen.
How with that first smile, you’d known you’d fall for him.
How, a few days later, there had been a little doodle of a vampire bat waving a wing in greeting slipped through the slits in your locker door, the word “hi” scrawled at the bottom with black sharpie. The answering “hi” with a rendition of a waving bat of your own you’d slipped through his locker door – and all the little doodles and notes which had followed.
The first time these clandestinely swapped slips of paper had turned into a real conversation.
Fleeting touches and lingering glances, until one day, there had been one of his doodles of a bat playing the guitar, with a note inviting you to one of his band’s gigs at The Hideout.
The first kiss in the moonlight outside of the bar, and all the kisses since.
Eddie Munson, who was your first kiss, your first love, your first everything, and who’d always be the last because you knew with all your heart that there never could be anyone you loved as much as you loved Eddie.
And with this burst of happiness as these memories flitted to you, like a swarm of fireflies lighting up this eternal night of pain and grief and loss and fear, you grabbed one.
The newest one.
Yesterday night.
His dark curls were tousled, even messier than usual with the way you’d raked your hand through the soft strands as he’d kissed you, both of you breathless. A fresh wave of need flooded you as Eddie’s fingertips wandered down along your spine, the warm, smooth metal of his rings a beautiful contrast to his hands, calloused from years and years of playing his guitar.
His breath ghosted over your collarbone to elicit sparks in its wake; your body turned into a live wire beneath his caresses as his soft lips trailed kisses down the column of your throat. Another moan tumbled from your lips, and you could feel his smile against your sweat-soaked skin as you mused, “Don’t you think they’ll know what’s up if we stay away any longer?”
Eddie chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body with a pleasant shiver that seemed to travel straight to your core, stoking the need for him once more. God, you would never get enough of this. Of him. All of him.
“We’re a couple,” Eddie breathed, teeth grazing the sensitive skin above your racing pulse point as he pressed closer against you, his thigh creating enough friction against your heat to send your senses spinning all over again, and one of his hands came up to gently tilt your chin, granting him even better access to the sensitive skin below your ear. “We snuck away half an hour ago. I’m pretty sure they know exactly what we’re doing.”
“Have been doing.”
“Are still doing,” he corrected mischievously.
“Is this a radio show or a secret make-out session?”, you teased, and Eddie snickered in reply, before he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, those beautiful umber eyes brimming with warmth, his pupils still dilated with arousal as he whispered, “I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
“I love you too,” you breathed, and Eddie’s expression changed as he saw the tears brimming in your own eyes, his hands coming up to gently cup your face.
“What is it?”, he asked softly. His voice was a dark croon, still laced with his afterglow, his breathing ragged, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared to lose you, Eddie.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded, overwhelmed with his own emotions as your words burst the happy little bubble the two of you had created, reality catching up with you again. Of the plan for tomorrow. And the thoughts of everything that could go wrong.
“I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your voice breaking with the strain of tears.
“You won’t,” Eddie crooned. His breath was warm as it fanned over your lips, his scent wrapping around you like a blanket. “I promise you won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
There was a beat of silence, before Eddie’s hands left your cheeks and he reached up to remove his necklace, a few stray curls tangling in the tiny links as he pulled it over his head.
“Wait, let me –“ you breathed, already moving to help untangle the strands from the necklace, “What are you even doing?”
The last few of his curls were freed beneath your fingertips, and with another of his sunshine-smiles, Eddie gently put the necklace over your head, the guitar pick dangling from the band warm against the skin below your collarbone as your hand flew up you grasp it, eyes widening in surprise.
“You –“
“Keep it safe for me, sweetheart, will ya?”, Eddie smiled softly, pulling you closer before he nuzzled his nose against yours. “And when we’re out of there, safe and sound, and that goddamn son of a bitch is six feet under, you can give it back.”
The lump in your throat was growing, throttling you. “And what if we don’t?”
The expression in Eddie’s dark eyes was stern when he breathed, “Then you’ll have to find me in the next life to give it back.”
“I can do that. I’ll find you in every life. I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson.”
“Good,” he replied, the softest of smiles on his lips as he gently tilted your head, “Because you won’t get rid of me again, sweetheart. Promise.”
And his lips met yours, to kiss away the fear and the sorrows once again.
Tears running down your face, your hand flew up, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s guitar pick charm resting over your heart, its surface smooth and warm against your skin, love flooding every cell of your body, every corner of your soul, like sunlight piercing through thunderclouds.
And when you lifted your head, it was there, at the edge of the woods, where the trees stopped and the trailer park began.
A rip in the fabric of Vecna’s curse.
The way out.
The screams that weren’t Eddie’s behind you, you climbed to your feet and started to run.
You didn’t turn around.
You were winning, you realized as you drew closer, your ragged breaths filling the air, blood rushing in your ears.
You were winning this twisted game of gods and monsters.
There, beyond the veil of Vecna’s curse, was your silhouette, still as a statue, head raised to the skies. And there was Eddie, his lifeless body on the ground beside you, his heart still as frozen and still as this cursed mirror realm.
Not much longer.
You were close, so close –
There was a shriek in the air, blood-curdling and high-pitched, a million voices forming one.
And then they were upon you.
Bats; hundreds and hundreds of them.
A sea of claws and wings and teeth.
You screamed as they reached you, leathery wings slapping your face, talons scratching and tearing at every inch of your skin, drawing blood, pain shooting through your body as you fought to keep going, to keep pushing forwards.
This was what it had felt like for Eddie, you realized. The last minutes of his life.
Panic and pain, drowning in a sea of monsters because he wanted to draw them away from you.
Only that for him, it had been real while this, right now, was nothing but an illusion.
They weren’t real.
They couldn’t kill you.
Only Vecna could do that.
With a howl of fury and anguish, you darted forwards, towards the rip, towards Eddie, the real Eddie.
Who needed you to run.
To make it, for the both of you, before he was so far gone that not even Vecna could bring him back.
A final cry ripping from the back of your throat, you leapt through the torn, frayed edges of Vecna’s spell.
With a gasp, your eyes flew open the moment your knees hit the ground, hands splayed in the dirt to catch your fall, body racked by tremors as you fought for your lungs to fill with the Upside Down’s toxic air.
The bats were gone, vanished. So were the screams.
You’d made it. You’d actually made it.
“EDDIE!”, you cried out, voice breaking as you scrambled to your feet, towards his lifeless form.
“Eddie”, you sobbed, falling to your knees beside him, your hands shooting out to grasp his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “I made it out. You need to wake up now, okay? You gotta wake up.”
Any second now. He would tilt his head and smile at you and everything would be okay, the rip in your own chest mended, the pain chased away by joy.
You waited.
For Eddie’s chest to rise with an intake of breath.
For the warmth and light and life to return to his umber eyes.
For his lips to tug into one of his sunshine-smiles as he realized that you’d done it, that you’d brought him back.
But nothing happened.
His chest didn’t move.
His umber eyes stayed fixed on the bleeding skies, hollow and unseeing and dull.
“Eddie?”, you breathed. Pleaded. “Eddie, you need to wake up.”
You shuffled closer, your hands running through his dark curls, the strands coated with dried blood as you cradled his head, the pad of your thumb caressing his cheek to swipe away some of the soot and dried blood.
His skin was cold beneath your touch.
“Wake up, Eddie. Wake up. Come back –“
But he didn’t.
It felt like breaking all over again.
Your head thrown back, you screamed at the skies, voice shrill as it rang through this eerie new quiet.
“YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED TO BRING HIM BACK YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
There is only so much even I can do when a heart has ceased beating for long enough.
You’d been too late, you realized.
And Eddie…he would stay in this horrible place.
Alone and scared, another beautiful dead butterfly pinned to Vecna’s wall of horrors.
You had left him there.
“No,” you sobbed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his curls tickling your tearstained cheeks.
This couldn’t be the end. Not in this cold, dark realm frozen in time. Not now, when there would have been a whole lifetime ahead; when there were so many dreams to live, memories to make.
It wasn’t fair –
There was a sharp intake of breath, a soft shudder running through his body.
Followed by a muted, “Jesus H. CHRIST.”
Your head snapped up – and your eyes met Eddie’s.
Warm and brimming with life and relief and tears as you stared at each other in utter shock and disbelief before his lips found yours, his fingers gently grasping your chin to tilt your head up and deepen the desperate, greedy kiss, so fierce and full of everything neither of you had the words to phrase right now, of heartbreak and relief and happiness and love.
Tell me this is real, your lips moving against his seemed to beg, tell me it’s not just another of Vecna’s cruel tricks.
The kiss tasted of blood, of your tears mingling with his own, of him, and a suppressed sob of relief ripped from your throat as Eddie’s hands settled on your back, trembling when he pulled you closer against him as if he, too, wanted to be sure that this was real.
The dark realm of the Upside Down blurred around you like watercolours running over a canvas while every fibre of your being was filled with raw, radiant happiness.  
Because no matter what would happen now, with Vecna, with Hawkins…everything would be okay. Eddie was back. That was all that counted.
Nothing else mattered but this, right here. Eddie’s lips on yours, his skin warm against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he held you close.
Your hands found their way beneath the remains of his torn Hellfire shirt, roaming up his chest – careful not to graze the bite wounds, his skin coated with dried blood beneath your searching fingertips – and Eddie pulled away, a little bewildered. “Um, like…right now?”, he panted, “I mean – here?”
“Your heartbeat,” you breathed, dumbfounded. “I want to feel your heartbeat.”
There was a second of silence before you both burst into tear-stained, relieved laughter.
You’d thought you’d never hear that sound again, the beautiful melody of Eddie’s laugh.
Your favorite sound in the world. It made sobs rack your body all over again as Eddie shuffled closer, his arms coming around you once more to pull you against him as he cooed, “It’s okay. I’m fine. You did it.” With your cheek pressed against his collarbone, you could feel the soft, incredulous laugh rumbling through him as he added, “You fucking did it.”
He moved, one of his hands finding yours underneath his shirt to gently guide your own hand upwards, placing your palm over the warm skin of his chest, right above the steady pounding of his heart.
“See? You made it,” he whispered, a half-sob, half-laugh bubbling from his lips, “You fucking made it. You fucking brought me back. We’re gonna need to have a talk about your crisis discussion with the undead eldritch entity ‘cause I was pretty sure my soul left my body for a second time in a row when you recounted how we all repeatedly sat his ass on fire but you fucking made it.”
“That was pretty metal of me, huh?” you whispered.
“Hell yeah. You totally stole my thunder, sweetheart. Just when I thought my guitar solo was the moment of the day you drag my ass out of the goddamn Underworld.”
You sniveled, the tears still rushing down the sides of your face – of relief this time.
Your free hand, the one that wasn’t resting over Eddie’s heart, flew up to grasp the guitar pick dangling around your neck and pull the necklace over your head, but Eddie’s hand folded over yours to stop you. “Keep it,” he said softly, “Just…I…you went in there for me. You did that.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t saved me first,” you breathed, a smile on your lips. “That was pretty damn heroic yourself, Munson.”
There was a beat of silence, before Eddie said quietly, “I’d do it again to save you. Not a second of hesitation.”
“I know. So would I.”
His hands came up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears from your face as he whispered, “I love you, sweetheart. I love you so fucking much.”
“And I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson.”
---
𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩  𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 ♡
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bleach-your-panties · 6 months
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:・゚✧:・゚→˚₊· 🤎black-coded reader if you squint, but anyone can read!
✨️warnings: modern university au (4years), jealous sex, degradation, dirty talk, oral (f! receiving), messy sex, kinda angsty, but happy ending. y'all should know by now, 18+ and mdni; it's nnn for pete's sake (who's pete?)
・゚✧:・゚→˚₊·🤎first time writing for geto!
✨️banner made by me in pic collage. ✨divider: unknown via picgifs
:・゚✧:・゚→˚₊· 🤎5.1k words
▶️addiction - ryan leslie ft. cassie, fabulous
▶️my boo - usher ft. alicia keys
▶️who booty - john hart ft.iamsu
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You and Suguru have been best friends since high school. 
Getting introduced to him by a certain, snow-haired, crystalline-eyed troublemaker in your first year at Jujutsu Tech had to have been the highlight of your life at the time.
He was in stark contrast to his other best friend, Satoru Gojo, but that may be why the two of you got along so well.
Gojo and Shoko joked around about how similar the two of you acted and that you should drop the 'best friend' facade and just date already. 
Your tight-lipped presentation paired with Suguru's quiet reticence allowed the two of you to shrug off their suggestions fairly easily and keep it pushing.
All that began to change though once the four of you graduated high school and started college.
Gojo, with his lovable loud-mouthed self, continued his relentless teasing  of Suguru throughout the first two years of college. Shoko effectively took over with teasing you, but you continued to just laugh them off.
“Really, you two? If Sugu and I wanted to date each other, we could have done that ages ago! Since you’re both so invested in love, why don’t the two of you go on a date, huh?”
That shut them up pretty quick.
Thankfully, because you didn’t know how much more of their sad attempts at matchmaking you’d be able to handle.
—-
When the third year of university rolled around, there was a drastic change to you and Suguru's dynamic.
It started off innocent: late-night study sessions in the library that ended with you spending the night in his dorm room.
He didn't want you walking across campus to the women's dormitories in the dark by yourself (why didn't he offer to walk you?), so staying over with him was obviously the only option.
With the two of you having been friends for years, initially, there was no awkwardness; only warm, comfortable silences while the both of you studied together.
Suguru had decided to major in religious ministry and planned to pursue a Ph.D. in the subject once he finished his undergraduate studies. His logical and emotional intelligence are both above average, so you know that he'll excel in his chosen program. 
With you always having had a love for science and medicine, much like Shoko, you opted to pursue a degree in biology with a pre-medicine concentration, though you haven't quite made your mind up about whether you'd rather pursue medical school or another type of graduate school.
No awkwardness, right?
That was true until one fateful night in his dorm room.
The two of you were studying, per usual, but something in the air seemed off. Finally, Suguru spoke up.
"You know, Y/N, I think that Satoru and Shoko are partially right."
You were nose-deep in an anatomy book before his smooth voice broke through the silence in the room.
"Huh, partially? About what?"
The book closed with a soft plunk and your e/c eyes were now focused on Suguru's face.
He looked pensive like he was trying to put his full thoughts into words before expressing them to you. His black square-framed glasses slipped down and rested on the bridge of his nose. You wanted to lean forward and push them back up.
"About us. How we should date or whatever." 
"Oh, and what makes them right after what, nearly 6 years, now?" You asked in an amused tone.
Suguru chuckled softly and then began to rise from his black leather desk chair. His slipper-clad feet padded towards you until he was kneeling on his bed, his left knee situated right between your thighs.
"Su..?" You asked breathlessly as he steadily moved closer to you. His taller frame enclosed around you, like a massive tree hiding a small bird within its branches.
He leaned down until his cowlick was touching your forehead.
"Sugu.."
Then in the next moment he was kissing you.
He tasted exactly how you expected: like black tea and mint.
A startled gasp left your lips as he pressed his harder into yours, smearing your Chapstick. 
With shaky hands, you carefully brought them to rest on his neck. 
Suguru smirked against your lips, sucked your bottom one into his mouth and gave it a harsh suckle.
Suddenly, you were pushed onto your back with Suguru sitting up on his knees, your thighs on either side of his hips.
"Mmm, Su, wait…what's all this about?" You peered up at him through lidded eyes with mink lashes attached. Bottom lip red and swollen from his urgent kisses.
He swiped his tongue over his teeth, revealing the head of that sinful tiger eye tongue bar.
"I just want to…test a hypothesis if you will indulge me, pretty girl…" 
You felt your face beginning to burn from bashfulness at his insinuations as well as the use of the scientific jargon.
He moved back so you could fully sit up. 
"Okay, I'm listening." 
"Well, I don't know if you've felt it, but there's an undeniable amount of chemistry and sexual tension between us."
"There is?" You made your face look surprised, your brows furrowing and your mouth contorting into a small "o"
Suguru rolled his dark onyx eyes at your obliviousness.
"I just had my tongue tickling your palatines while you reciprocated eagerly, yet you think there's no sexual tension there?"
You scoffed a laugh. "You have really got to stop reading my anatomy texts." 
"But why? They're quite interesting." He smirked. 
"Yeah, but quoting them while we're getting hot and heavy? So not sexy, Su." 
He gripped your thigh, squeezing the fat of it through your spandex shorts before rubbing his hand down your leg to your pedicured foot.
Suguru massaged your toes gently, rubbing his rough palm over the sensitive soles; it felt so good, especially since you'd been up and down the campus all day, trying to locate your new classes for the semester. 
A deep sigh/moan escaped your still-wet lips and you ran your tongue over them to savor the lingering flavor of Suguru's kiss.
He put both hands on your thighs and wrapped them around his lower back before continuing to massage your legs and feet. 
"Huh, you like that, baby?" He asked with an air of arrogance in his tone,  eyes crinkling in mirth through his glasses as he stared down at you.
"Gosh, yes, Sugu. My feet were killing me. Thank you."
Suguru only chuckled softly before grabbing both your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on his shoulders, just to watch the expression on your face change from relaxed to surprised.
"Su!"
"Hmm, don't start screaming my name just yet, little one."  
And that was the very first night that you two fucked.
—-
Throughout the rest of the year, that was how the two of you continued on.
Those late-night study sessions in Suguru's dorm room turned into late-night sex sessions.
He still gave you those foot massages followed by eating you out until your voice was hoarse from calling his name.
Whenever Suguru had a rough day in class, he'd text your phone and you'd know to immediately head to his room after your evening classes.
He'd waste no time grabbing your throat and pinning you against the small armoire, throwing one leg on his hip and slotting himself in between so you could feel his angry hard-on.
The one that only fucking you could satiate.
Or some days he'd come to your dorm to help you study for your lab exams and memorize organic molecule configurations.
He'd reward you for correct answers with long drags of his tongue through your folds and hard sucks on your clit while you gazed down at him from under your notebooks, hands trembling and slipping from the pages.
As the year dragged along, you found yourself falling deeper in, whatever this was, with Suguru.
You once asked him exactly what 'this' was and where the two of you were going and he simply replied:
"We're just having fun. No pressure, no labels."
So you left it at that.
Third year ended and now the two of you are finally seniors.
It's that midpoint between fall and winter, mid-November, and the holidays are fastly approaching. 
Which for you means end-of-term lab exams.
Luckily, you and your lab partner are meeting up today to study for the organic chem lab.
You'd met him on your first day of the dreaded class, a credit required in order for you to graduate with all the prerequisites needed for med school. 
At first glance, he seemed like someone who'd drop the class in the first couple weeks and change their entire major just like you'd seen many of your former classmates do.
As you got to know each other throughout the semester, you warmed up to him and grew a small crush on the intelligent male.
Intelligence, a trait that you quite admire in your men.
To be honest, he reminded you of Suguru a bit.
Suguru, who you haven't really talked to or hung out with since your little falling out at the end of third year.
You didn't know if you'd both silently agreed to break off your little arrangement or if you were just avoiding him. 
Probably the latter.
It wasn't hard to do since you're both in different majors and have no classes in common; you can just write it off as you being extremely busy, which isn't actually a lie.
Continuing on to your dorm room after last class, you made yourself some instant ramen in your microwave before you started getting dressed for your lab review session. 
You sit at your little vanity table to do your makeup. Soft, pastel eyeshadow to compliment your beautiful e/c eyes and to match the pastel-colored cardigan laid across your bed. 
Despite the chilly weather outside, you opted to dress cute in your cardigan with a white turtleneck sweater underneath, black leather miniskirt, white thigh-high thick socks, and black Mary-Jane style slanted wedge heels.
Your fashion sense often earns you many sneers from your peers and questioning looks from your professors, but ask if you give a fuck.
To top off your look, you added some dainty silver jewelry before grabbing your bags and leaving for the chemistry building.
—-
Suguru sighed and stuck his phone back into his pants pocket.
He's a coward.
He can't even bring himself to click on your contact name to draft a simple 
'can we talk?' text.
The biting cold in the air made him hurry along to the campus coffee shop where Satoru had asked to meet him. 
—-
I was hopin' you'd notice 
The way that I like to have you around 
Around, yeah
Listen and you will find that your heart beats for me
Girl, I hear the sound, and it only gets better 
It started off with a kiss (uh huh)
Never expectin' this (uh huh)
And now I'm here copin' with
My addiction, addiction
—-
The little bell over the door jingled and Satoru's snow-white head shot up from where he was almost asleep (and drooling) on his class notes.
"About time you got here! I was beginning to think you'd stood me up!" He perked right up and swiped his sleeve over his mouth, putting on a bright smile.
Suguru just sighed and pulled back the wooden chair before plopping unceremoniously down into it. His backpack clunked to the floor.
"What's wrong with you? I mean aside from your usual aloof asshole tendencies. Something is actually going on, I can feel it." The blue-eyed male asked in concern.
"Nothing is wrong, Satoru. I'm just tired and stressed about midterms, graduation, and a whole lot of other shit."
Like you.
He didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make you feel unimportant when he said that the two of you were just having fun.
'What a fucking idiot I am. Of course no girl worth her salt wants to hear that she's just a nutty buddy.'
He lamented in his head before slamming it into the table. He groaned when the elastic keeping his hair in a bun snapped, covering his face completely in inky, blue-black locks.
Surprisingly, his glasses didn't break. 
"Oh damn, that bad, huh?" Satoru asked. "Hey, can I get a triple shot of espresso on that frappe, please! I think you're gonna need it to get through the rest of the day." He murmured as the waitress walked over.
—-
And Satoru was right. He did need that coffee to make it through his last few classes, but he still felt like shit and now he was wired and not to mention completely pent up and horny.
After you two fell out, Suguru fell into a pit of despair. You stopped talking to him, studying with him, and even stopped responding to his texts.
Of course he missed hiking your legs up and eating you out, fucking you on every surface in his room, and then making you take his cumshots all over your makeup, but honestly right now…
He just missed your presence in his life.
To pour even more salt in his wounds, his two other best friends had begun dating people on campus, which often made him the fifth wheel when it came to hangouts.
Usually, Satoru would always have Shoko attached to his hip and Suguru would have you, but now that was all  over because of his wreckless choice of words.
"Fuck!"
He kicked one of the flimsy metal chairs outside of the library over with the toe of his boot causing some freshmen students to give him frightened looks.
"Got something to say?"
They shook their heads.
"Thought so."
He hoisted his backpack up higher on his shoulders so he could begin his trek across campus to get to the warmth of his dorm room when he saw you moving quite urgently towards the chemistry building.
He knew that you were likely heading to prepare for one of your lab exams, but the outfit that you had on alluded to this being much more than just a casual meet-up to study. 
Oh no, with the way that skirt was gripping your hips and just barely covering your ass, you had to be meeting up with someone special.
And the fact of knowing that it isn't him lit his entire soul on fire.
"Oh, hell no."
So he followed you.
—-
There's always that one person 
That will always have your heart
You'll never see it comin'
'Cause you're blinded from the start
Know that you're that one for me
It's clear for everyone to see
Ooo baby…
You will always be my boo…
—-
You hummed softly to yourself as your heels clicked along the tiled hallway floor of your least-favorite building on campus.
Your partner had texted you to let you know that he'd be running late, as he had a test to make up that he'd forgotten about. 
That made you roll your eyes, but nevertheless you carried on to the empty lab room so you could start studying by yourself. 
Once inside, you set up your materials on the desk and began to work. 
After only a few minutes of you working, you heard the door to the lab room creak open.
Thinking it was your partner finally having finished up, you lifted your head with a smile only for it to drop once you saw Suguru's tall frame lingering there at the door like a nervous ghost.
"What are you doing here?"
He froze at the ice in your tone; yep, you're definitely still mad. 
Almost shyly, he moved into the room, making sure that he shut the heavy door behind himself. It closed with an echoing 'boom'. 
"What, am I not allowed within twenty feet of you now? Did you file a restraining order on me, too?" He bit with more than a hint of sarcasm. 
"Very funny, Suguru. So what-
“Suguru?” He cut in. 
You never called him Suguru. Only 'Sugu' or 'Su'. Never Suguru.
You looked up as he began stalking towards you, the thud of his boots much louder in your ears than they should have been. 
He now hovered over you, a mean and irritated look plastered across his normally cool, stoic features.
(a/n: the pic in the banner is how he's looking at you🙈)
You only continued with your original thought, though your tone was a bit less sassy now.
"So you came here in search of me because why? Couldn't get your nut off by yourself?" You sneered, making his jaw tense.
A large hand slammed down on the table, making you flinch. 
"Stop with the attitude, Y/N. I'm already fucking pissed." 
Now you were confused because, who is he talking to?
"Okay and what does that have to do with me, Suguru? You-"
His other hand gripped the wide collar of your cardigan and pulled you up out of the chair you were seated in. 
Your face smashed against his chest and you were engulfed in the deep scent of his woodsy cologne.  He pushed you back slightly to examine your face up close. 
"Stop calling me that." 
"Your name?" 
He gazed down at you with his black eyes hardened.
They slowly roamed over your body, taking you in as a whole since he hasn't seen you up close in so long.
“So you wore this for him?”
"Him?" You put a hand on his chest and he allowed you to push him back so you could have space.
His eyes shifted from your face to your thigh-highs.
"Your boyfriend. The one you're waiting here for."
Is this really happening right now? It couldn't be. 
Shaking your head with a chuckle, you regarded Suguru with an incredulous look.
"My boyfriend, oh right, you mean my chemistry lab partner."
You crossed your arms underneath your bust and his breath hitched as the movement caused your breasts to shift upwards and strain against the material.
"If that's what you want to call it, you don't have to hide it from me." He shrugged and stuck his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. 
“Well don’t let me interrupt your little date.”
“It’s not a date, Suguru, we’re just studying for our lab exam. He is my lab partner, after all. We've worked together for this entire semester."
His jaw clenched. So this guy had been around you and not only within school grounds, most likely.
In a split second, you were flying backwards, with your back rubbing against the cold surface of the lab table.
Suguru was back between your legs, the position mirroring the one from your first ever sexual encounter last school year.
"You let him fuck you?" He asked with a hard edge to his voice.
"W-what?" 
"You heard me, Y/N. Did you give him a taste of what belongs to me?"
He lowered himself to a kneeling position right between your spread thighs. 
"Knees up."
Immediately, you complied, making Suguru smile and show all of his perfectly straight white teeth. He then grabbed hold to the sides of your panties and began shimmying them down ever so slowly.
"My favorite panties, too. What a shame; you're really showing out now, aren't you, darling? Trying to get daddy's attention?"
You pressed your lips together causing him to click his tongue in annoyance.
"Huh, you want my attention, so you parade yourself around campus dressed like how you are? Answer me." 
He spanked your pussy hard with the back of his hand, making your back arch off the table.
"Suguru, please!"
"I said to stop fucking calling me that. Now lay your ass back down."
You obeyed but your lower lip quivered just slightly. He was mad and when Suguru was mad and sexually frustrated, you knew it wouldn't be a short night for you.
"I'm going to ask you again, Y/N. Did you let him fuck?"
You quickly shook your head side to side.
"But you wanted to, right? You were going to, right? Answer right now or I'll leave you here with a wet cunt and no orgasm."
"No, Su, I promise. We're just partners, I swear!" 
"Hmm, lying slut…" He murmured, eyes transfixed on how your pussy lips were sucking in the damp material of your underwear. He was ecstatic that you had stopped calling him Suguru, though.
With two fingers, he hooked them under your panties, right on top of your mound. The backs of his knuckles scraped against your throbbing clit, causing your left knee to shake.
"Such a sensitive bitch, you've got to be telling the truth then, because you only tremble like this when you're needy. Right, baby?" 
You whimpered out a weak 'yes' and 'please' 
—-
Lil' mama, I know what you want
Begging me to beat it 
Like the bass in my trunk
I'm a lil' nasty, I ain't even gotta front
Lick you from your head
Down down to your butt
—-
Suguru decided to finally indulge you, but first he ripped your panties off in one swift movement, fully exposing you to his greedy eyes. 
He spat a thick, wet glob of saliva onto your pussy, the sound making your face warm with shame.
"You don't have to act so shy, love. I know I'm the only one who knows how to eat this shit just the way you like it." 
His long fingers slid through your folds, collecting your creamy, translucent cum on them. 
He scissored his fingers apart, watching the strings stretch but never break. 
"Fuck."
His dick is as hard as a brick, but he'll take care of that in a minute.
Next, his mouth was completely covering the bottom of your cunt while those two fingers worked your clit, rubbing your mess back and forth over the pulsating bud.
The ball of his tongue ring poked at your asshole periodically as he ate you out and you clenched everytime, fearing that he'd stick it in.
French-polished nails reached for his hair and Suguru, whose eyes never left yours, grabbed your hand with his free one to tangle yours in his navy blue locks.
"Su! Su! Su!" You chanted like a cheer, cheering him on as he ate your pussy so sloppily and made a mess of you and the table. 
Juices leaked down your legs and his chin from his combined saliva, your slick, and your cum from the multiple times that he had you squirting, just from his tongue and two fingers.
He could eat you out like this for hours, but he doubted he'd have that much time before someone discovered the two of you. 
Rising back to his full height, Suguru looked down at you and admired the shaking, wet mess that you'd become.
You were covered from your lower abdomen down to your knees in a mixture of your own squirt, cum, and his saliva. Even your socks were soaked and now sticking to your skin.
He never thought you looked more beautiful.
"Su…" You whined up at him, body growing cold from the waist down and aching to have him fill you up and make you warm.
"What, bitch? Want my dick now? You think you've earned it after ignoring me for damn near the whole semester?"
Your eyes drooped sadly and he stopped, cursing himself for not knowing when enough was enough.
"No, no, no…I'm sorry, baby…look, listen to me. I…"
"I'm sorry, Sugu. I'm sorry for ignoring you instead of just coming out and telling you how I really felt." 
He stopped completely then and rested his hands on your hips, right above the top of your skirt and massaged small circles into the pudge that poked out there.
Dark, slanted eyes locked onto your e/c ones to let you know that you had his full attention. 
—-
I was in love with you when we were younger, you were mine (my boo)
And I see it from time to time
I still feel like (my boo)
And I can see it no matter how I try to hide (my boo)
And even though there's another man Who's in my life, you will always be my boo
My oh, my oh 
My oh, my oh, my 
My boo
My oh, my oh 
My oh, my oh
My boo
—-
"I knew the moment you kissed my lips in your room that day. That you were the one I could put my entire trust in and spend the rest of my life with. There's no one that I trust to have my heart more than you, Sugu. I love you."
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He fucked up.
'I fucked up'
"I fucked up." He finally said out loud. Your eyes raised to meet his again.
"I fucked everything up when I said that stupid shit that I said." 
You wrapped your arms around his neck while he stood between your legs.
"Every day that I couldn't be around you was fucking hell. You consumed nearly every waking thought. School, hanging with friends, work; hell, even jacking off became torturous knowing that I wouldn't be hearing from you throughout any part of my day."
He chuckled lowly.
"Do you forgive me, baby? You have nothing to apologize for here, and I love you, too.." 
You nodded slowly and he pressed his forehead against yours before tilting his head to capture your lips in his.
The tangy taste of your cum covered your taste buds as Suguru began exploring every inch of your mouth with his expert tongue.
His tongue bar clinked against your teeth ever so slightly with his rushed and hasty movements; it was like he was trying to savor every bit of that sweet confession that you'd just spoken to him.
"Mmm, Sugu…" You breathed once he parted for air.
His hands moved to your waist and he flipped you over, pressing you back into the table with both of your wrists trapped in one of his strong hands.
The sight of that tight, black leather hiked up over your ass cheeks had him in a frenzy to undo his belt and drop his pants.
Once his cock was free, he tapped the leaking head on both cheeks.
He couldn't help himself, he just had to ask:
"Whose pussy is this?" 
Your reply was immediate: 
"I-It's yours, Sugu'..f-fuck! Please put it in!"
"Hmm, not good enough. Fucking convince me."
Even though he said that, he was already sliding his thick ass dickhead between the messy folds of your cunt.
"Please, Su…it's yours, baby, all yours. Please fuck me." 
"Shit…!" He almost collapsed on top of you and sent the whole table crashing to the ground.
You let out a collective moan when he finally slid in, sheathing his dick deep inside you.
Grabbing your hair and twisting it around his hand, he pulled you up into a perfect arch with your ass flush against his thighs.
"Again. Whose is it?" 
—-
Slide in that thang, real deep game
Bust it so good, girl, what's my name? 
Hit it from the back, headboard swag
When I talk shit, shawty answer right back
I be on her like:
Who booty is it?
Who booty is it?
Who booty, who booty, who booty is it?
Who booty is it?
Who booty is it?
Who booty, who booty, who booty is it?
—-
Usually Suguru was a rough, fast thruster, but right now he had you confused because he'd start out with a few quick hard thrusts that had you face-planting into the table, then he'd switch it up and slow grind you, pressing his hips so far into your backside that you'd have imprints of his hip bones.
"Su…S-s-u…SU! Fuck fuck fuckkkk!" You screeched while your nails scratched the surface of the table that was sliding back and forth but hadn't broken down.
He only thrusted harder and faster. It wouldn't be long before he came all over that dirty pussy.
“Sturdy ass table.” He chuckled. “Perfect for whores like you to get fucked on.” A groan from deep within his chest emerged as his thighs shook.
"I'm…fuck…I'm going to ask you one last time, Y/N. Whose. Fucking. Pussy. Is. It. Y/N?"
Each word was punctuated with a deep, brutal thrust.
Your breasts were sore from being pushed so hard against the cold surface of the table and your thighs sticky and wet from Suguru eating you out.
"I- GOD, I…y-yours!" You managed before your orgasm took over.
It was so strong you almost blacked out, no doubt the strongest one you'd ever had thus far.
But Suguru wasn't quite done yet.
He pulled out and slapped your ass hard with his palm while the other fisted his dick furiously. 
"Turn over. Open your legs for me, wide, like a slut. There you go." 
He came with a shattered groan, ropes of white hot cum splattering against your already bruised and messy folds.
When his balls were completely empty and you were covered in white, he scooped some onto his fingers and brought them up to your lips.
"Suck." 
You sucked.
"Good fucking girl, fucking slut. Whore." He attached his mouth to yours and dipped his tongue in to taste your sweetness combined with his essence. 
You both made out sloppily, swapping cum until he pulled back and spat the snowballed cum back into your mouth followed by patting your cheek lovingly. 
"Now swallow."
And you swallowed.
With a deep sigh and a satisfied smile displayed over his handsome features, he began searching the room for paper towels to clean the two of you up.
Once you'd gotten your bearings, you locked the door behind yourselves. 
Suguru pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head.
"I wonder what happened to my partner? I guess I got stood up after all!"
The man beside you couldn't resist rolling his eyes and then answering in a smug tone.
"Or, he heard you screaming my name from all the way down the hallway and decided to just fuck off." He snorted.
You giggled and elbowed his side, but he was dead serious. 
"No, really, baby. I saw him peek through the window on the door when I was giving you backshots. The look on his face was fucking priceless." You gasped.
"Sugu, you didn't!" He only laughed harder.
"I mean, really. I didn't even have to ask who it belongs to. Lucky for you that I showed up, or you could've started dating that guy and been screaming out SU everytime he fucked you."
----
*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!
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