#I’m not displease but I Do Not Remember | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuluoyi · 8 days

Text

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

4K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

I would loooove Sirius taking care of reader after a GNO like he’s so supportive of girls night and then reader calls him to pick her up or she gets dropped off at his flat/house and she’s just all snuggly and lovey and Siri is just all 🤭😚 “you’re cute when you’re needy”

Thanks for requesting!

cw: drunkenness

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Sirius!” You tear out of Lily’s grasp as soon as the door is open, pitching forward. Sirius scrambles to catch you, his arms compensating for your jelly legs when your face lands just north of his navel.

“Hi,” he says, surprised but not at all displeased. You’re not typically a very tactile creature. You and Sirius have hugged a handful of times, but only when you were feeling in need of comfort or especially overwhelmed by affection. Or, apparently, squiffed. He tries to pick you up to your full height, but you lock your arms around his waist and don’t let go. He looks at Lily. “Is she alright?”

Lily nods, giggling as Mary mumbles something nonsensical (at least to Sirius) into the skin of her shoulder. “Yeah, she’s okay. I think she’s having a great time, actually.” She grins at the way you’re smiling contentedly into the fabric of Sirius’ shirt. “Could you have her call us in the morning? I’m very curious to see what all she remembers from tonight.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “What should she remember?”

“Well, I fucking hope she hasn’t forgotten the part with the bouncer,” Marlene guffaws. “She promised she’d bring him cupcakes, and I think he’s expecting to collect.”

“Just have her call us,” Lily says, dragging the other two girls away. “Thanks, Sirius!”

“I want to be allowed in on the debrief!” he calls after them before shutting the door, careful not to let it hit your ankles.

He looks down at you, still vaguely smiley but otherwise seeming like you might be dozing. Your eyes are closed, one of your cheeks is squished up against his abdomen, and you’ve got your hands bunched in the fabric of Sirius’ shirt at the small of his back. He pets the back of your head, thinking of what to do with you.

“Doing alright, sweet thing?” he asks softly.

You pick your head up, setting your chin against him so that your face is tilted upward at an awkward angle. You look at Sirius, and the sun rises in his chest. Just like always. “Hello,” you say.

Sirius smiles. “Hello, lovely. Did you have fun?”

“Mhm.” You seem to realize that the position you’ve chosen is less than comfortable, slipping down his legs and puddling at his feet. One of his calves still firmly in your grasp. He can feel the cold of your hands through his pajama pants. “Still having fun.” A tiny giggle bubbles out of you, amused with yourself. “The fun never ends.”

“Not with you,” Sirius agrees, deciding to sit on the floor with you. You make it look like the place to be. “Say, doll, Lily’s got me curious. What happened with the bouncer?”

“The bouncer…oh!” Your eyes light up. “He wouldn’t let us into the club, but I got us in.”

“Yeah?” He laughs as you take one of his hands and bring it into your lap as if this is something you do every day, playing with his rings. “How’d you manage that?”

You look at him gravely. “I did what I had to do.”

He blinks, then reminds himself that Marlene had said something about cookies. “And what did you have to do?”

“Nine rounds of rock-paper-scissors.”

Sirius guffaws at the solemnity in your expression, leaning forward to peck you on the cheek when you seem a tad wounded by his levity. “Well, I suppose sacrifices had to be made,” he tells you. “You got your way in the end, hm?”

“I did,” you agree, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Though I did have to promise him baked goods as payment. Bribery, you know.” You lean forward until your forehead lands on his chest, his hand still in yours, and sigh heavily. Sirius brings a hand to your back, rubbing between your shoulder blades.

“Feeling alright, doll?”

“Yeah,” you sigh again, and then you’re shuffling into his lap, setting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

“Well,” he jokes, “it is my flat, so.”

“I love you so much.” You sound vaguely teary, and Sirius’ heart contracts painfully.

“I love you too, baby,” he says back, letting the sappiness you both usually tend to shy away from seep into his tone.

“And I love when you call me that.” Your grip tightens around his ribcage. He presses his palm in between your shoulder blades like he can steady you. “You’re so nice to me, Siri.”

Sirius hums noncommittally, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “If I were really that nice,” he says, “I would have been a better boyfriend and gotten some water in you as soon as you got here. C’mon, sweetness.” He hoists you with him as he stands. “Let’s go have a drink.”

He changes his mind when you seem unwilling to walk by yourself, taking you to bed instead so he can bring you water there. He finds your favorite pajamas and helps you change into them, telling you to close your eyes when he uses the emergency makeup wipes you’ve left at his place to fast-track your skincare routine. You laugh and play-fight him as he manhandles you beneath the covers, but he’s only reminded of your true strength when he goes to get your water and you latch onto his arm in protest.

“Don’t leave,” you beg, looking partly like you’re having fun with this game and partly like you might be genuinely upset if he does. “I don’t need water.”

“Course you do,” he says, working a hand behind your ear so he’s holding your face. You lean into the touch fondly. “All flowers need water.”

To his disappointment, you don’t seem to recognize the compliment, pouting at him. “M’not like other flowers,” you argue. “I need you tons more than I need water, Siri.”

He smiles, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re awfully cute when you need me, you know that?”

You beam in response.

Sirius debates whether he’s going to tell you tomorrow how lovey-dovey you’ve been tonight. On the one hand, it’d be the highlight of his week to watch how flustered you get, but on the other you might very well break up with him out of embarrassment. He’ll have to decide later.

“You’ve still got me,” he reassures you. “I just need you to have some water, too, baby.” He wields his new knowledge of how that particular endearment affects you to his advantage, and it works; you go all soft around the edges. Sirius pushes his advantage. “I won’t be gone more than thirty seconds, promise.”

You seem to deliberate for a few moments before capitulating, giving him your most severe look. It’s adorable. “I’m going to time you,” you threaten.

“Sounds good.” He gives your cheek a little peck and starts for the kitchen, your voice mounting behind him as you count upwards.

He’s back quickly with a tall glass of water and a couple of pain relievers, and you glare at him. “That was more than thirty seconds.”

“Sorry, doll.” He doesn’t mention that you’d skipped the twenties. “Guess I’m not as fast as I thought.”

You make it very clear he’s not yet forgiven, but you still seem to want to hug him. Sirius is delighted, palming the back of your head when you bury it in his shoulder. “Missed you,” you mumble, and he thinks he finally detects some sleepiness in your voice.

“Baby, I was gone for less than a minute.”

You nod as if in agreement. “It was horrible,” you grumble softly, breath warming his skin through his shirt. “Never do that again.”

“Alright.” Sirius lets his palm coast down the line of your spine, back up again. “Alright, I won’t.”

873 notes · View notes

teapartyprincess4two · 1 month

Text

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of Y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Matt has a son and a daughter in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

From the moment Matt met you, he knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children. Both of your children were received with so much love and joy, but Matt still had to learn how to navigate being a boy dad and a girl dad.

☆ Your firstborn is a boy and Matt can’t contain the excitement he feels when he first finds out.

☆ He’s overprotective of you throughout the entire pregnancy, ready to take care of your every need.

☆ Your son is hyper, rambunctious, curious and a force to be reckoned with. He barges into the room with so much energy balled up into his small figure that he’s bouncing off the walls.

☆ When your daughter is born, she’s the complete opposite of your son. She’s calm, quiet, and docile.

☆ It takes Matt some time to adjust to having a baby girl, but as soon as he gets in the groove of it he can’t remember what life was like before having a daughter.

☆ Matt’s playing soccer outside with your son, playing pirates, boxing, and building elaborate Lego sets with him.

☆ “No dad! We’re pirates! We have to steal all the gold!” your son explains, adjusting his make-shift eyepatch.

☆ “I thought we were ninjas?!” Matt’s out of breath, running after a fast toddler was extremely tiring.

☆ “No! We just beat the ninjas! They tried sneaking onto the ship, remember?” Your son’s imagination was too fast for Matt to keep up with.

☆ “Argh matey,” Matt replies, ready to continue with the game.

☆ But when your daughter wants attention he’s playing dress up, attending a tea party, getting his nails and makeup done, and talking to all her stuffed animals.

☆ “Daddy Miss Twinkle is mad at you for eating her cookies!” your daughter whispers, almost like she’s gossiping.

☆ Matt has lost track over which stuffed animal is which, but he’s assuming Miss Twinkle is the unicorn across from him.

☆ “I’m sorry Miss Twinkle,” he apologizes, shaking the toy’s hand.

☆ “Dad that was Lady Unicorn. Miss Twinkle is the teddy bear in the pink dress,” your daughter slaps her forehead. “Oops,” he laughs, taking a fake sip of tea.

☆ Matt has learned to be silly, fatherhood softening him and allowing him to abandon all embarrassment.

☆ “What are you wearing?” you laugh, Matt’s serious face adding to the comedy of the situation.

☆ He’s fully decked out in a pizza costume, trying to make your children laugh. “I’m a piece of pizza,” he replies goofily, putting on his best Italian accent.

☆ “You’re so silly daddy,” your son giggles. In his eyes, Matt is the funniest person on the planet.

☆ Your daughter is not as amused, but she smiles nonetheless.

☆ Matt loves doing domestic things with his little family. He’ll randomly pull out a baking sheet, all the ingredients to make cookies, and throw on an apron.

☆ “You’re doing so good, baby,” he coos, watching as your daughter throws an entire, uncracked egg into the mixing bowl. He wasn’t going to use that batch, but the words of encouragement have her smiling.

☆ Children fight all the time, especially when they’re siblings, and your kids are no exception. The year age gap doesn’t help either, so you’ll often find your kids bickering over the smallest things.

☆ “It’s not your turn to play, though!” your son attempts to reason, yanking the controller out of his sisters hands.

☆ “You played all day bozo!” she replies, sticking her tongue out at him.

☆ Matt hears the fight from his room, reluctantly getting up from his comfortable spot on his bed and walking over to where his children are.

☆ “What’s going on?” he asks, arms crossed and a displeased look etched on his face.

☆ “She’s being so annoying, dad!” your son exclaims, and before Matt knows it his kids are pushing, slapping, and punching each other.

☆ “HEY! BEHAVE!” Matt pulls them off of each other, scolding them both without favoritism. He goes on to lecture them about the importance of siblings and doesn’t leave until they hug and make up.

☆ Matt’s entire camera roll is filled with videos and pictures of his kids. Kindergarten ceremonies, family vacations, first haircuts, candid photos; all of it is being documented by Matt at all times.

☆ If he’s ever away from home for a long time, he’s scrolling through his gallery and reminiscing on all his memories with his babies.

☆ Your son is obsessed with video games, something that he and Matt bond over. And although your daughter isn’t as invested, she’s still really good at them.

☆ Mortal Kombat is a game they all play and enjoy together.

☆ “Move over and watch the queen play,” your daughter jokes, taking the controller from Matt after watching him lose time and time again to her brother.

☆ “Yeah, you wish you could beat me,” your son scoffs, readying up for another round.

☆ Your daughter chooses a girly character, which has your son rolling his eyes, but as soon as the round begins he can’t get a single hit in.

☆ Matt is in shock at her level of expertise, she was using combos he didn’t even know about.

☆ “Okay my turn against you, babygirl,” Matt takes the controller from his son, ready to play all night long if he has to.

☆ Having teenagers is hard and tiring, Matt feels like he ages 10 years in just one day with the amount of stress his kids cause him.

☆ Your daughter’s brain is suddenly occupied with nothing but boys and your son is starting to take girls on dates.

☆ “That skirt is too short,” you warn your daughter.

☆ “It is not,” she fights back, genuinely finding nothing wrong with her provocative outfit.

☆ Matt doesn’t have to say anything, one stern look has her trudging back upstairs to change.

☆ “Dad can I borrow the car?” your son asks nervously, avoiding Matt’s eyes at all costs.

☆ “For?” Matt’s not stupid, he knows what teenagers do.

☆ “Nothing, just hanging with some friends,” your son replies, but it doesn’t take long for Matt to get the truth out of him.

☆ Overall, fatherhood has been extremely rewarding for Matt. He sees it in the way his children love and look out for each other and what a great mom you are.

☆ “I love you guys so much,” Matt gushes, pulling the three of you in for a group hug.

☆ “Dad stop being weird,” your son groans, your daughter seconds his statement, but they don’t pull away from the hug.

☆NSFW

Having two children can take up a lot of personal time, especially when your daughter needs you and your son needs Matt. There’s never really any time for you and Matt to just exist as a couple, but he works hard to make sure you feel special everyday.

☆ You’re cooking lunch, the pure domesticity of your actions being enough to turn Matt on.

☆ The kids are still at school and if he’s convincing enough, you’ll abandon whatever’s on the stove and let him please you.

☆ Sneaky arms are wrapping around your waist, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that plays lowly in the background.

☆ Matt’s lips find your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure.

☆ Before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter and Matt’s balls deep in you. “Take it,” he grunts, his hands gripping your waist so tight there were sure to be bruises.

☆ The food on the stove burns and you end up ordering pizza.

☆ When the kids are old enough, you and Matt leave them at home alone while you run errands.

☆ Something as simple as a quick trip to the grocery store turns into heated, passionate car sex.

☆ The windows are foggy and the car rocks with each thrust, Matt’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you ride him in the front seat.

☆ “You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, falling more in love with you as you whimper out his name. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

☆ Most times you two just do it in the shower. It’s sweet and full of so much love.

☆ He’ll fuck you against the cold tile wall before scrubbing your back and washing your hair you.

☆ It’s the sweet moments like this that both of you cherish. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the warm water running down both your faces. “I love you too,” you reply with a smile, going in for a passionate kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: can I hear some commotion for dad Matt🎤

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

838 notes · View notes

belovedguk · 19 days

Text

price of freedom (jk)

summary: upon learning that your father had arranged for you to marry kim taehyung, heir to the biggest corporation in asia, to secure his win in the presidential election, you sought the help of det. jeon jungkook of the intelligence unit to take him down and attain your freedom. however, you soon realized that freedom had a price and det. jeon’s was the most expensive and dangerous of it all.

pairing: detective!jungkook x professor!fem!reader

genre(s): yandere, heavy angst, dark romance, slow burn, political

author’s note: this is a repost of price of freedom chapters 1-2 from my old account, aikastales. no warnings for this part.

total word count: 7.2k

PART ONE

You were on your way out of the classroom when the familiar voice of your father’s right-hand man, Kim Namjoon, stopped you from your tracks. He was standing in the doorway, hands buried deep into the pockets of his black coat. Namjoon sent you a polite smile, but you kept your lips pressed into a thin line, adjusting the strap of your black leather bag which had fallen off your shoulder. You didn’t know what he was doing at your workplace, and frankly, you didn’t really care. Whenever Kim Namjoon showed up unannounced, it was never good news.

Sensing your displeased aura, Namjoon walked towards you while saying, “It’s no wonder your class is always filled, Y/N. You’re a great teacher.”

There was, once upon a time, that a compliment from Kim Namjoon would have made you grin widely. He was the person that you looked up to the most while you were growing up because he was incredibly smart and the only person who, despite being young, took your insights with great importance, not dismissing it. But you grew up and developed a mind of your own. Suddenly, Kim Namjoon wasn’t the great adult you looked up to anymore.

“Does my father want anything, Namjoon? Because you can tell him the same thing I’ve been telling him for years now: no,” you replied with a sigh. “I’m not going to campaign for him or do anything that makes it seem like I’m campaigning for him.”

“I came here without the knowledge of your father, Y/N. I came here to give you a heads up for what he’s about to do that concerns you,” he took another step towards you. Namjoon didn’t seem to age, you pondered. He looked like he was permanently stuck at 25 his whole life.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and perhaps, concern. When it came to your father, everything was unpredictable. “What?”

Your mind immediately came to the conclusion that your father was going to disown you, publicly, which you really didn’t mind. After the death of your mother, you had been estranged. You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke or even saw each other, in the flesh, at least. Senator Jung Hoseok was always on a television somewhere, for better or for worse.

“He’s arranging your marriage with Kim Taehyung, the heir of V Corporation.”

It was like your entire body had been washed over by ice-cold water. You felt it freeze and then shake. You knew you and your father didn’t see eye-to-eye in many things but you never expected him to meddle with your life in this way. You didn’t have a reason to expect it because he had been pretty good in letting you do whatever you wanted the past few years.

“Why the hell would he do that, Namjoon?” you asked, clenching your fists and feeling your entire body getting hot due to the anger that was quickly forming within you.

“To add machinery in his campaign, to ensure he wins the election. V Corporation is the biggest stockholder in Han Systems, the voting machine that will be used in the election,” Namjoon inhaled deeply then exhaled. “Kim Taehyung marries you and he wins, to put it simply.”

“What the fuck?”

You couldn’t believe the words that came out his mouth. Just how deranged your father had become over the past years that he was willing to have some guy marry his only daughter so that he’d win the election? A guy who was a notorious and infamous womanizer and you deeply hated.

“The marriage is a month away, Y/N. Expect that he’ll have his men take you to the press release of the announcement of your engagement to Kim Taehyung anytime now,” Namjoon said. You glared at him, his gaze softened. “I am sorry, Y/N. Truly. I tried talking him out of it but he was adamant. Kim Taehyung already accepted the proposal.”

You felt your knees getting weak. “This is insane, Namjoon. I’m not going to marry Taehyung or anyone. I won’t marry Taehyung or anyone. There has to be something you can do. Anything.”

He shook his head. “It’s already sealed, Y/N. It’s out of my hands now. I only came as a courtesy because I care about you. I always did and always will. You are like my daughter too.”

You felt like you were back to being a helpless teenager once again. Biting your lower lip, you tilted your head to the side as you shook your head. Placing a hand on your waist, you faced Namjoon once again. “Why does he think he can force me to do this? We haven’t talked for years but I’m sure my father still knows me. I’m not someone he can boss around.”

“Y/N, the freedom he’s given you to do whatever you wanted over the years is not free. He kept his distance from you because he knows, one day, he’ll use it against you. That day has come. You are going to marry Kim Taehyung, one way or another, because if you don’t—he’ll make sure to make your life and those you love suffer,” Namjoon licked his lower lip as he continued. “He knows everything that you’ve been doing. The people you’ve been seeing. The causes you’ve been donating and dedicated to. Everything. What do you think he’s capable of now more than ever? Nothing’s more dangerous than a desperate man.”

A shiver went down your spine. He knew everything. If Namjoon was telling the truth and he knew everything, you had no choice. Your father was a powerful man, an influential man. Whatever he wanted, he would stop at nothing to have it. You thought of Seokjin and the Moon Orphanage and you thought of Christian Yu, your on-again, off-again boyfriend turned closest friend. They became your family throughout the years. You didn’t even want to imagine what your father would do to them if you refused to marry Kim Taehyung.

“I don’t have a choice,” you stated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I never did, didn’t I?”

Namjoon shook his head solemnly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And just like that, the illusion was broken.

Maybe drinking the pain away was a temporary solution to the aching hole in your chest but right now, you honestly didn’t care. Temporary fixes were sometimes the best fixes. You finished your fifth shot in just half an hour and when you were about to call the bartender to ask for another, a figure sat down on the stool beside you. When you took a glance at them, you couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Hey, just a beer,” he said to the bartender before turning to you. “Evening, Professor Jung,” His voice was enough to annoy the living shit out of you. Or maybe, your day was just spoiled and everything annoyed you. “No ‘evening Detective’? I thought we were finally getting along.”

You inhaled sharply. “I’m not in the mood, Jeon. So shut up and leave me alone.”

Jeon Jungkook chuckled. “What got your panties in a twist?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” you snapped, finally facing him. There was an amused smile plastered on his annoyingly handsome face. “I’m serious, Jungkook. Leave me alone.”

Upon sensing your disposition, he asked, without a hint of mischief or teasing, “Do you wanna talk about it? We’re not friends but that should make it easier, right?”

He had a point. Sometimes, it was easier to tell everything to someone that wasn’t your friend. A stranger. But Jeon Jungkook wasn’t exactly a stranger. Not by definition, anyway. He wasn’t an acquaintance either.

Ever since you moved to Seoul to start your professorship at SNU, Jungkook had been there. He was one of the first people you met because of the bar you two were currently at, The Basement. Your co-faculty brought you along after work one night and he and his co-workers were also there. He tried flirting with you but you were with Christian at that time. Still, even if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have flirted back. Jungkook was handsome, yes, but you disliked cops and he was a proud one.

Whenever the two of you would be at The Basement at the same time, Jungkook would playfully flirt with you or just make it a point to annoy you at least once the entire night.

So yes, Jeon Jungkook was not a stranger. He was not a friend. He wasn’t an acquaintance. He was just there.

“Hey, saw your bust on the evening news. Good job, JK, and to the rest of the Intelligence,” the bartender, Hoshi, said as he brought Jungkook’s beer. “This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks Hoshi,” Jungkook said. From what you knew from secondary sources, Jeon Jungkook was a detective in Seoul Police Department’s elite team known as Intelligence Unit. He was the youngest in their team of six.

An idea suddenly popped in your mind. You turned to him. “You work in the Intelligence Unit, correct?”

Jungkook seemed surprised by your inquiry but nodded, nevertheless. “Yeah. I do. Why?”

“What type of cases do you work on? Is it always drug cases?” you asked.

“No. Mostly are drug cases, yes, but it’s usually up to our Sergeant what our next case would be or if we happen to come across one that he approves to take on,” he explained and you nodded slowly. “Why are you suddenly curious about my job, Professor? Don’t you hate what I do?”

You thought hard about your next choice of words. “What if someone goes to you to look into something illegal? Criminal?”

He shifted on his seat to face you, tattooed arm resting on the counter beside him. “If the information is credible and actionable then we look into it. They become CIs—confidential informants.”

“What does that entail? Being a CI?”

Jungkook raised his eyebrow slightly. “What’s with the questions? Do you have something you wanna tell me, Y/N?”

It was this or nothing. It was a risk you were willing to take.

“I have information on the illegal acts of a certain presidential candidate. Can your unit investigate that?”

You assumed Jungkook wasn’t dumb and he could’ve already guessed who the candidate was but he didn’t show it. His expression remained passive. “What information?”

You licked your lower lips. “Vote-buying, fraud, intimidation, and so much more.”

“I’m not sure if my sergeant will take the case, Y/N. The Commission on Elections exists for that purpose. They have jurisdiction.”

“Then, what about murder?”

Jungkook pressed his lips tightly. “Not here, Y/N.”

“I can’t go anywhere with you. I’m being watched,” you told him. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then just act natural, like we’re friends talking.”

You did your best to do so. “I don’t know the specifics. It was never even confirmed. But there was only one person who could kill Congressman Park Jimin—my father, Senator Jung Hoseok.”

“We can’t look into it based on a hunch, Y/N. There has to be something actionable like a message ordering the hit.”

“I can find it,” you told him. “I can find proof that he ordered the murder of Park Jimin.”

“You wanna wear a wire?” he asked incredulously. “Y/N, I am telling you right now: that’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care, Jungkook. It’s either I do this or—,” you shut your eyes tightly.

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or he wins the election. By then, it’ll be impossible for him to be arrested for any of his crimes.”

Jungkook sighed. “Why now? You had plenty of chances to do this but you didn’t. Why now?”

It was the question, wasn’t it? He wasn’t wrong. You had plenty of chances to report your father to the authorities but you didn’t. There was really no other reason why.

“Because I wasn’t strong back then. I was scared of him,” you scoffed, lowering your gaze. “Maybe I also needed him. He provided me with everything. I was scared that if he went to jail, I’d lose all those luxuries.”

“And now you’re ready to lose everything?”

“I already did,” you told him. “Right now, I have nothing else to lose. I also can’t let him do anything he wants so he can get everything that he wants and more. I’m done being his pawn.”

Jungkook was silent for a while. You didn’t say anything more. When he finished his beer, he stood, and as he slipped on his jacket, he told you, “I’ll see what I can do, Y/N. Good night and take care of yourself.”

It was a miracle that you managed to go home despite being hammered. Perhaps, over the years, your alcohol tolerance increased.

You took off your heels, coat, and bag, discarding them on the floor as you proceeded into your apartment. Throwing yourself on the sofa, you sighed deeply. As you stared at your swirling ceiling, you wondered if Jungkook would actually help you. All the cops that you knew were corrupted. You wondered if he was one of them.

But you had to try. He was your only option. You had to gamble on the fact that Detective Jeon Jungkook was one of the good ones.

Then, your mind went to his question: why now? And suddenly, you felt disgusted with yourself. All those years you could’ve spent ensuring your father paid for his crimes but you didn’t. You ignored him.

Yes, you defied him. But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you only did so because you hated him. It wasn’t because of a moral, virtuous reason. It was self-serving. And now that he had taken your freedom, regardless if it was an illusion, you were defying him again for all the same reasons.

Did that make you a bad person? You had no idea. Maybe there were who would think so.

Another sigh escaped your lips and as you closed your eyes, you immediately fell into a deep and troubled slumber.

A week had passed since you learned from Namjoon that your father had essentially sold you out to win the upcoming presidential election. Suffice it to say, you were on the edge the entire time. When you were not conducting your lectures at SNU, you were internally dying as you waited for Namjoon or any of your father’s men to pick you up for the press conference. You were also waiting for Kim Taehyung to reach out. But none of them did.

Instead, it was Jeon Jungkook.

You were unlocking your car when he appeared seemingly out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of you.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” you hissed at him as you picked up your key.

“You said you were being followed? Well, you were right. I found this under your car,” he showed you a small black box. “It’s a tracker. But I already disabled it. I also scouted the university for any undercovers your father might have sent with a couple of my men and we found none. He probably just said that to get into your head.”

“Wait,” you told him. “What are you saying, Jungkook? Are you going to help me?”

He nodded. “I already got the greenlight from my Sergeant. He wants to meet with us now.”

For the first time in a week, you felt hope. A sliver of hope.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay, where do we go?”

“I’ll take us there,” Jungkook said. “Keys.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why can’t I drive?”

“Y/N, if we’re going to do this, you’re gonna need to trust me,” the detective said. He seemed different from the guy who would playfully flirt with you at the bar. Perhaps, this was the Detective persona he had.

With your lips pressed tightly, you gave him your keys and went around to the passenger seat. Simultaneously, the both of you stepped into your vehicle and once the engine started, Jungkook began to drive.

You were pretty familiar with the roads within Seoul. One of the hobbies you picked up when you moved to the city was driving aimlessly whenever you couldn’t sleep. You enjoyed the peace and the excitement that came with not knowing where you’d end up.

“Were you watching me the entire week?” you asked Jungkook after a while.

“It’s standard procedure, whether you believe it or not. I had to make sure you were being truthful,” he explained. “But I mostly did background check. I didn’t watch you the entire week. My men did.”

Fair enough, you thought. “How’s your sergeant like?”

“Hyung is a good cop if that’s what you’re asking,” Jungkook replied, glancing briefly at me. “He taught me how to be one.”

“That’s not—,” you exhaled deeply. “I meant—is he standoffish? You know… How do I present myself to him?”

“Just be yourself, Y/N. Just explain everything to him truthfully.”

“You keep bringing that up—truth,” you said. “You also need to trust me if we’re going to do this, Jungkook.”

“I know and I do,” he answered. “Because if you don’t, if you cross me and my unit, there will be consequences.”

About ten more minutes later, they arrived at an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of the city. Admittedly, you felt nervous but you stepped out of your car and followed Jungkook inside.

Once inside, he immediately stood out. He wore a black suit, his long jet black hair was gelled away from his face. A cigarette was hanging from his lips but what stood out the most about him was the scar on his left eye.

“Sarge, this is Jung Y/N. She’s the daughter of presidential candidate, Jung Hoseok. Y/N, this is Sergeant Min Yoongi—he’s the head of the Intelligence Unit.”

The sergeant blew smoke from his mouth. You extended your hand and he shook it. “Good to meet you, Ms. Jung.”

“Please, just call me Y/N.”

He nodded. “So, let’s cut to the chase. You said your father murdered Park Jimin but you have no proof.”

“I told Jung—detective Jeon that I am willing to be a CI and go undercover to find proof that he did,” you said, licking your lower lip. “I know I can find it.”

“It’s not going to be easy. I’m sure Det. Jeon made you aware of that,” Yoongi said, nodding at Jungkook’s direction.

You nodded. “He did. But like I said, I am willing.”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked at each other. You looked at both of them. Yoongi nodded as he smoked once again.

“From the background check I conducted on you, you’re pretty much estranged from your father, Y/N. If you suddenly come back into your old life and integrate yourself in it to find proof that your father killed or ordered the hit on Park Jimin, it’ll be suspicious,” Jungkook told you, slipping his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket.

You took a deep breath. “It won’t be suspicious. Not when I’m going to marry Kim Taehyung. That’s my way in.”

“Wait—you never said anything about marrying Kim Taehyung. Is he the same Kim Taehyung of the V Corp?” Jungkook asked, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“I didn’t think it mattered at the time. But I do now. The marriage is my way in,” you said to him.

“Sarge?” Jungkook inquired.

Yoongi blew another smoke from his mouth. “If Y/N’s willing to do it, I don’t see any reason not to do it. It’s the fastest way to infiltrate Jung Hoseok’s inner circle.”

You nodded. “I am willing to do it, Sgt. Min.”

“Do you know anything about this arranged marriage?” the sergeant asked.

“Only that it’s in a month and there will be a press conference about it. Will that be enough time?”

A lopsided smirk appeared on Min Yoongi’s face. “That depends on you, Y/N and how fast you can acquire evidence that your father is involved in the murder of Park Jimin.”

What if I can never find proof? Does that mean I’m stuck in a marriage with Kim Taehyung forever?

I felt a cold shiver down my spine. As if sensing it, Jungkook spoke up. “Look, Y/N, we’ll do everything we can to help you and not to brag, we’re pretty good at our job. That’s why we’re the Intelligence Unit. We make the cases that can’t be made. But if we’re going to take down a man as powerful as your father, whose eyes and ears are everywhere, you have to help us. You have to do everything to help us take him down. It all goes down to you.”

You nodded. It all goes down to you.

“We’ll contact you. You don’t contact us. For now, just sit tight and let the arrangement flow. Just act how you normally would. So, if you’re not in favor of this marriage, act like it. Don’t just suddenly act like you’re into it. This is going to be a long game, Y/N. So I ask you this one last time: are you willing to do this?”

Min Yoongi’s gaze was as sharp as a predator hunting for its prey. It penetrated your soul.

“I am.”

PART TWO

Like the last time you saw him, he was wearing a long black coat under his suit and black pointed leather shoes. When you saw him standing outside of your apartment, you knew exactly what he was there for—the day of your press conference had finally arrived.

You took off your earphones as you walked towards him, chest rising heavily as you had just arrived from your jog. “Have you always known where I lived? Don’t tell me you have cameras around my apartment too.”

Namjoon didn’t address your question. Instead, he informed you, “The press conference starts in three hours. I’m here to take you to it.”

“Of course you are,” you scoffed, unlocking your apartment. You entered your place and kept the door open for Namjoon to follow you inside.

“Take a shower and then we'll leave,” Namjoon said, shutting the door behind him. “Taehyung has made arrangements regarding your wardrobe.”

“Don’t I get any say in this matter?” you asked, turning on your heels to face Namjoon.

“He prepared various dresses for you to choose from, Y/N.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you snapped. “Can you tell me I have, even just a little bit, of a say in this marriage?”

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” he said with a deep sigh. “Just get ready, please.”

Shaking your head, you proceeded to your bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to finish getting ready; slipping on a pair of wide leg jeans, a simple white shirt, and throwing on a black coat over it. You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, blow drying your hair. Then, you put on your usual jewelry—except for the necklace Jeon Jungkook had given you days after meeting with him and his sergeant.

It was gold with an engraving of St. Joseph on the circle pendant. It wasn’t eye-catching to say the least, which was the point as it was the “wire” that you needed to wear to capture everything when you were with your father. Because you couldn’t contact Jungkook or Yoongi, the detective told you that you only needed to press the pendant once and it would immediately activate and send them a signal that would alert them that you were under the wire.

After slipping on your white sneakers and putting your phone, wallet, and keys inside your coat pockets, you left your room. Namjoon was looking at your bookshelf. You stared at his back for a moment. Most of the books in there were the books he made you read growing up. They were his copy. You always wanted to get rid of them but when you were about to, you just couldn’t.

“I’m done,” you said.

Namjoon turned to face you. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The ride was quiet. Namjoon was sitting beside the driver while you were seated in the backseat. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing Jungkook’s message.

We’re with you. Do your thing.

It was oddly comforting. You never would’ve thought you’d be feeling that way especially coming from Jungkook. You put your phone back in your pocket and lowered yourself on the chair, resting your head against the window.

It didn’t take long before you reached V Hotel. From your view inside the vehicle, the tall building looked so intimidating. It almost looked like it reached the sky. It wasn’t the first time you had been at the hotel. You remembered this establishment from your childhood. Your family would always stay here when you were in Seoul. The memories were fond because they were memories with your mother—room service, movie nights, trying out your mother’s jewelry and heels even though they were too big on your small feet.

In the hotel room, it felt like you had your own world. The both of you could be as careless as you wanted because there was no husband and father that would restrict you.

Now, you were back and everything had changed. Your mother was dead and you were marrying the heir to this hotel.

Namjoon opened the door for you, cutting off your trance. With a deep sigh, you stepped out of the vehicle. Immediately, you heard screams from everywhere. You didn’t even notice the media behind the barricade from across the street.

“What the hell is that?” you asked Namjoon as he led you inside the hotel.

“It’s a press conference, Y/N. What did you expect?” he returned.

When you were finally in the lobby, what struck you the most was the chilly air conditioned air. The lobby was massive and wide. Everything was grand. You would not deny the beauty of the five-star hotel. The manager greeted you and Namjoon then led you to your suite. Even the elevator was grand. By the time you arrived at your suite, you weren’t surprised at the elegant interior.

“Enjoy your stay. Please let us know if you need anything else.”

You didn’t have time to breathe because as soon as you arrived at the suite, Namjoon immediately instructed everyone in the room to start getting ready. Before you knew it, you were sitting in front of a vanity mirror with bright lights in front of your face and what seemed like dozens of people pressing a million things on your face.

When your make up was done, the stylist helped you put on your dress. During all this preparation, not one of them spoke. You wondered if they were instructed not to.

“No, I want to keep this necklace,” you told the stylist who was on the verge of unclasping the necklace.

The dress you were now wearing was a white silk dress with thin straps and hugged you perfectly in all your curves. When you were finally done, you felt like a completely different person. It felt like you were back into your old lifestyle.

“Thank you everyone,” you said as they were preparing to leave. They just bowed and didn’t say anything back.

When you were finally alone in the suite, you sat down on one of the couches. Unconsciously, your fingers found its way to the pendant of your necklace. You wondered if Jungkook was still watching, listening. You wondered if he was anywhere near the hotel. The nerves had finally set in.

Today, you were going to announce to the entire nation that you were marrying Kim Taehyung.

And speaking of the devil, he arrived in your suite. He wore a tailor-fitted brown-shade three-piece suit. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was back to being black, slicked back, exposing his forehead and handsome face.

“Hi there, Y/N. Long time no see,” Kim Taehyung greeted with a smirk plastered on his lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Wish I could say the same to you,” you told him, rising from your seat. “So, tell me, was this all your idea? A sick fantasy you had?”

Taehyung chuckled. “I hate to break it to you but this is purely a business strategy for me. You can hate your father for this marriage.”

Somehow, that made it worse. Your father really had no regard for you.

“I’m sure you didn’t want to get married this way. You can literally have anyone you want, Taehyung. So, how about we make a run for it? Go on with our lives.”

“Not anyone is the daughter of the future president of this country, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about me getting in the way you live your life, if that’s what’s you’re worried about. You can see other people and I wouldn’t mind. Just don’t do it publicly. We still have appearances to keep up.”

This was not the Kim Taehyung you were expecting. You heard rumors about him. You heard all sorts of unfortunate words that described him: womanizer, notorious, evil, diabolical. Yet he didn’t seem like any of it as he stood in front of you. Perhaps, it was an act?

“Come on. The sooner we finish this press conference, the quicker we get back to our day lives.”

And so, you were on your way.

When you arrived at the hall where the press conference was held, you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest at any moment. The anxiety creeped into your system and suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything that was happening around you. All the bodyguards that surrounded you and their chatters about being in their respective positions, the yelling of the media inside the hall, the sound of their cameras clicking, and your shaky breath.

Taehyung grabbed your hand which, instinctively, you tried to withdraw but his grip was right and he tugged you along with toward the stage where you saw your father and Taehyung’s parents already seated—all smiles and jovial towards each other.

Seeing your father made you tremble in anger. He was the reason behind everything. Seeing him act like he wasn’t cheating his way to the presidency by using her own daughter like a puppet in front of everyone in the hall and to the people who were watching ignited a fiery ball of anger and resentment in your heart. And when your eyes met, you felt like you were a fucking child again. You knew the look all too well—do as I say.

Taehyung greeted his parents by bowing ninety-degrees, letting go of your hand momentarily to clasp it over his stomach. You followed his action. Then, the both of you bowed respectfully to your father. It made you sick.

You sat beside him while Taehyung sat beside his parents. Both of you were in the center. You were now aware of just how vast and how many media were present inside the hall.

“Hello. We’ll now start with the press conference,” an emcee off stage spoke into the microphone. “Everyone, please introduce yourself.”

Taehyung’s parents were the first to introduce themselves, followed by their son, you, and lastly, your father.

“Hello. My name is Jung Hoseok, Y/N’s father. Thank you all for coming.”

Y/N’s father—he always introduced himself that way to the public. Never Mayor Jung Hoseok, Congressman Jung Hoseok, or Senator Jung Hoseok. It was always Y/N’s father. He wanted to be seen as just another father in the country. That made him relatable out of his peers. Even at such a young age, he would use you for his advantage. In hindsight, you probably should’ve seen this coming. But hindsight was indeed 20/20.

“To the members of the media present with us at the hall and to the global viewers of the live broadcast, we want to welcome you to the press conference of the announcement of Kim Taehyung and Jung Y/N’s engagement. To start, we will be entertaining the questions from select media. Upon your arrival at the hall, your seats were randomly put on a red sticker so if you have a sticker on your seat, please rise and we will call your name row by row. Thank you.”

And so, the questioning began. The first ones were basic—how you and Taehyung met which you both answered at ease. It surprised you—how you answered the question at ease, how smoothly you lied in front of the cameras. How you quickly came up with scenarios adding onto Taehyung’s recount of your romance.

Perhaps, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Ms. Go Minji from The Seoul Times.”

A beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a pair of jeans, white blouse underneath a black coat and heels, carrying her thick notebook in one hand and her phone in the other went to the center where the microphone was placed. Despite the charming smile plastered on her lips, her sharp gaze met yours and you immediately knew she wasn’t just some journalist. She was young, probably around your age, and her sharp gaze held a lot of tenacity and passion.

The burning passion of the youth—a catalyst for many things.

“Hello. This question is specifically for Ms. Jung Y/N,” Minji spoke into the mic.

“Yes, please proceed with your question.”

“It’s public knowledge that you and your father had not been in contact for many years, presumably since the passing of your mother. Isn’t it curious that, all of a sudden, you’re back into each other’s lives, and you’re marrying Mr. Kim Taehyung, heir to the V Corporation which is also the largest stockholder of Han Systems, the supplier of this year’s national elections?”

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you but nothing more evident than that of your father’s. He was burning holes in you.

“It’s true. My father and I have been estranged for some time now. We have differences, just like everybody else. We have arguments and misunderstandings that we sweep under the rug rather than confront them immediately and that led to the unfortunate estrangement. But he’s my father and I never stopped loving, caring, and supporting him—,” you took a quick glance to your father and saw him smiling at you.

For everyone else it might be a sweet smile. For you, it was sinister.

You continued, “You know, just because we’ve lived our lives publicly since he became involved with politics doesn’t mean that we have to put everything out there. My father and I have reconciled. As for my marriage to Taehyung—like we said a while ago, we’ve known each other since we were little. We’ve been friends throughout the years. It didn’t occur to us that we share the same romantic feelings for each other until last month. So, when we acknowledged it, there wasn’t really any second guessing—we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. It may be unorthodox to most since our society is very conservative when it comes to dating, but it’s a testament on how true and sincere our feelings are for each other. We are marrying because we love each other.”

“But isn’t that a conflict of interest? Your father is running for president.”

“No, it’s not. Firstly, there are no laws against our union. Secondly, my father is not corrupt. His record can attest to that. Thirdly, Han Systems developed a corruption-proof system. That is why the Commission on Elections approved their license to be the supplier for this election after a thorough investigation on the company and the testing of the machine. It took them six years to reach this decision. That only means Han Systems was the best of the best. Their system worked. I understand how our union may raise speculation but I ask the public to look at the facts and the records of my father’s public service of more than 20 years before they spread malicious comments.”

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom to change back into your own clothes, Jung Hoseok was waiting outside. He was seated in one of the chairs near the room’s balcony.

“You answered well a while ago,” he complimented. “Sounded like a true politician’s daughter.”

“I’m going now. You got what you wanted so let’s just stay out of each other’s way as we’ve been doing the past years,” you told him.

“Stay, Y/N. I’m not done talking to you.”

There was the Jung Hoseok you remembered. All the traces of his public persona were gone. Before you was the true Jung Hoseok—cold, stern, dictatorial. With your fists clenched, you faced your father.

“You will see this through, Y/N. This act doesn’t end after the press conference. In fact, it’s only the beginning. I’m sure Namjoon has told you what the consequences will be if you deliberately try to cross me. It’s not only your life that is at stake. Do you understand?” he raised his eyebrow slightly, challenging you to deviate.

“I do,” you said.

“Good.”

“How can you do this? You’ll sell out your own blood for your own selfish interest. Do you have no conscience?” you asked because it hurt. It still hurts even though you always knew your father was not a good man.

“Y/N, I thought by now you’ve grown up and accepted the realities of the world,” he shook his head as he rose from his seat. “You were always your mother’s daughter. So idealistic, so… hopeful,” you felt your body froze when his fingers traced your jaw. “Look at where that led her. Killed by the very people she stood for,” Hoseok sighed deeply. “Justice, truth, honesty, morality—these are fallacies. Man-made illusions to sell idealists like you into championing causes that do not matter. Made to believe we’re all equal. Y/N, we’re not. There will always be a leader and a follower. And I am born to lead. And I will do everything to make sure I get to lead for a long, long time.”

The sinister smile appeared on his face once more as he continued, “So, don’t get in my way because I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done to push you off it.”

Same place. Take the route we used.

This was the message that you saw after you finished drying the dishes you used when eating. It was from Jungkook, obviously, and even though you wanted nothing more but to stay in and call it a night—you knew this was more important. So, without further ado, you took your keys, wallet, phone, and coat then proceeded to the parking area of your apartment building.

Fortunately, you still remembered the route Jungkook used going to the warehouse. You guessed this was probably the location you would often meet. You wondered how many CIs had driven the same route and what happened to them afterwards.

When Jungkook asked to meet with you to give you the necklace, you had asked the very question.

“What happens after my father is in jail? I imagine I have to testify and all that but what about after that?” you asked as Jungkook put the necklace around your necklace.

“You get your payment for the information you provided us and you’re free to do whatever the hell it is that you wanna do,” Jungkook answered, locking the gold jewelry in place.

“I don’t need money. But freedom sounds nice,” you replied, turning to face him.

Jungkook became a friendly face. You never expected this. It felt like with him came hope that everything would be alright, that the good guys would win this time around.

Moments later, you arrived at the warehouse. It was dark and the street lights didn’t help illuminate the streets clearly. All that you could see was whatever the bright light from your headlights shone upon. Once you had parked and shut the engine off, you stepped out of your vehicle and proceeded inside, using your phone’s flashlight to guide you.

“Y/N.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest again. You turned and your flashlight shone upon Jungkook’s face.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you sneak up like that?” your hand was on your chest, feeling your heartbeat.

“Sorry. Part of the job is to be as sneaky as you can,” Jungkook’s lips formed into a smile. “Come on. Let’s talk somewhere brighter.”

So, you followed him upstairs and inside a room with the lights on but no windows. It was small with only a table and a metal chair. The walls were dirty yellow filled with various graffiti. The floor too.

“What was this place?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“According to Sarge, it used to be a sardines factory. But it was shut down and the local police department took over after it was revealed that the owners were trafficking underage girls and shipping them off to various countries,” Jungkook explained, sitting on the table behind him, and pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighter from his coat pocket. “Intelligence mostly uses it as a safe place to talk to CIs.”

You nodded. Jungkook lit a cigarette between his lips. “So, everything that happened a while ago was captured and recorded. Our tech guy is uploading it to a database for safekeeping. I wanted to let you know that you did great.”

“I lied, Jungkook, about everything,” you told him with a light scoff.

“It was necessary,” he shrugged it off. You frowned a bit. Was lying also ‘part of the job?’ He must have noticed your expression because he chuckled as he blew smoke from his mouth. “Professor, you do realize the world isn’t black and white? Sometimes, to do our jobs, we have to use similar methods as the bad guys.”

You inhaled deeply with your lips pressed tightly. “Why did you wanna meet?”

“I wanted to know if you were okay after everything that happened today.”

“You could’ve asked me over the phone.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you,” Jungkook removed the cigarette from his lips. “You’re my CI, Y/N. You’re my responsibility. Part of my job is to make sure you’re okay every time you’re undercover.”

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Honestly, right now, I just want to sleep. I’m sure after today, I’m gonna be whisked away for God knows what for the wedding.”

“Y/N, you asked us before how long will this take, remember? And Sarge told you that it was a long game. You can’t have this attitude if you wanna take your father down.”

“I’m not—,”

“Yes, you are,” Jungkook rose from his seat. “This defeatist attitude. It’s getting annoying. It’s not going to help you last,” his eyebrows were furrowed and suddenly, he seemed bigger. “You want to see your father pay for his crimes? Then, do everything in your power to do it. Stop second guessing yourself, use your instincts, commit.”

You weren’t sure what to say but everything he said left an impact on you.

“I’m not mad,” he said after a while. “I’m just being direct.”

You nodded slowly. “No, it’s fine. I—I understand. I’ll do my best, really.”

Jungkook smoked again. “Okay. You can go now. Keep your necklace on.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. feel free to send me asks regarding pof and other things. see you in, hopefully, a next fic. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #price of freedom by aikastales #aikastales

391 notes · View notes

freak-accident419 · 4 months

Text

Good Tidings

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh

(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)

You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).

While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.

You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.

But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.

“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.

Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.

“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”

You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?

“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”

“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”

You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.

“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”

“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”

“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”

“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”

You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.

“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.

It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”

“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.

“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”

You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.

“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”

You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.

“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.

“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.

“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.

“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.

***

“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”

“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.

The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.

When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.

Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.

You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.

“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”

“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.

“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”

“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.

“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.

“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.

“Maybe,” he answered smugly.

“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.

“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.

“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”

“Ray told you about that?”

“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”

You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”

He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.

He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”

You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.

“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.

“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”

“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”

“Blowing worms?”

“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”

“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”

“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.

He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”

“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”

“But—”

“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.

“As in—?”

“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.

“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.

Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.

You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.

“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”

“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”

“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”

“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.

Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.

“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.

“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”

“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.

“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”

It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.

“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.

“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”

“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.

You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.

“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.

“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.

“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.

A beat.

“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.

He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.

Then suddenly,

“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”

You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.

“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.

“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”

“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.

“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.

“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.

“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.

The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.

“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”

You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”

624 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 6 months

Text

Remember Me

Hello Shanks fans!

This work was requested by @aishabbbb, which I linked back to here for the full description of the prompt. This is my third (technically fourth because my thoughts ran away with me!) requested work that I've completed.

I'm not currently taking requests, but if you do want to see my writing style depict a specific idea, I will honestly most likely hyper-fixate on it until the idea consumes me if you do ask me nice enough. I do appreciate a good prompt! And seriously, who doesn't love an amnesia trope!

Word Count: 6,636

My Masterlist is here!

Echoes of gruff laughter lingered in the air as tankards of ale clanged against one another. It had been a while since the Red-Hair Pirates had made port and as they viewed a rowdy port full of lively music, contagious laughter and bursting at the seams with a variety of pleasurable company; they could not resist.

This port had been known for some time to be a lawless town, accepting of any journeymen as they resupplied their vessels, sailors selling their wares and even the odd Marine here or there had graced the town with their presence. The World Government paid no mind to the comings or goings, knowing should the port be shut down; their supply of rum would slowly dwindle away.

The Captain of the Red-Hair Pirates sat upon a stool at the rear of the room as he stared into the bottom of his tankard, watching the amber liquid slosh from side to side. He withdrew into himself; his former joy and carefree attitude no longer present on his features this night.

A woman with a painted face sauntered over towards the captain, swaying her hips as she overemphasized her intentions.

“Care for some company, sweetheart?” she asked him in a sultry tone as she took his hand in hers that still clasped the tankard. He made eye contact and smiled from the corner of his mouth before withdrawing the hand from her grip and drew his drinking vessel to his mouth.

“Not today, love,” he said, taking a drink from his tankard, “but I can point you in the direction of someone who would be more than happy to share your time.”

She smiled as Shanks gestured to his senior officer, who had a black bandana featuring a white jolly roger insignia atop his lengthy blonde hair. His expression was one of a displeasing grimace, black glasses concealing more of his irritation behind them.

“See if you can bring a smile to his face, would you?” he laughed slightly as she nodded as she made her way to her next target.

Plonking two fresh pints down on the table before him, Benn Beckman sighed as he sat on a stool facing his Captain; taking one of the pints and gesturing for Shanks to do the same.

“You turned her away?” Beckman questioned his Captain, “I thought you’d enjoy a pretty blonde giving you attention this time.”

“I’m not as open today as I have been any other day to the company of a painted lady,” Shanks laughed in response raising his pint and clanging it against his First-Mate’s, “or any other man or woman you’ve since such sent my way. You know this.”

“Oh,” Beckman uttered, eyes widening before looking down at the table, “I didn’t realise it was today. Sorry Cap’n.”

“Don’t apologise, Beckman,” he smiled at him before drinking from the tankard. He moaned slightly as the cool, bubbling liquid hit his lips and he tasted the bitter flavour of the hoppy amber ale.

“How long has it been since-?” Beckman began, halting his words in search for the more appropriate way of phrasing it.

“How long has it been since my bride was claimed at sea?” Shanks offered to complete his First-Mate’s sentence. Beckman nodded in response, gesturing with his pint for Shanks to offer his answer.

Shanks sighed and leant back in his stool, his back thumping against the small railing at the back.

“This day marks ten years,” he added with a sad smile. A silence fell between them as they reminisced the day the Captain of the Red-Hair Pirate’s wife was lost to him.

After a brief pause, they commenced their drinking as they surveyed the movements of the patrons and crew interacting with one another.

Beckman raised his tankard to his lips and begin to gulp with gusto at the frothing liquid. He trailed his eyes throughout the bar as he did so; looking to Limejuice as he grit his teeth tightly at the blonde woman’s incessant and unrelenting flirtation was thrust upon him.

He continued his assessment of the room before his attention was caught by a group of sailors laughing amongst each other, a woman throwing her had back at the joke uttered by one among them. Benn Beckman spluttered into his tankard, coughing as the amber ale entered into his wind pipe and corrupted his lungs with it. He continued to draw in his breaths while maintaining visual contact on the situation unfolding before him.

“Benn,” Shanks addressed his choking crewman, “you alright?”

The First-Mate continued coughing and spluttering, managing to relieve his lungs of the bitter substance and gasping in a long breath. His pigment all but fled from his face as he continued staring blankly at the bar in horror.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Shanks laughed, placing his tankard down on the table before clapping a hand against the upper arm of Beckman’s shoulder.

“I-I think I have,” Beckman stuttered slightly before bringing his attention to his captain, “look to the bar and tell me if you can see her too, Captain.”

Shanks furrowed his brows in confusion, laughing lightly at the confession of his crewman before turning and immediately having the playful expression pulled from his lips.

“You see her?” Beckman asked him in a voice just above a whisper.

The Captain wordlessly rose to his feet, almost toppling the stool over in the process as he made his way to approach the woman. His bride, his queen. His whole world was carelessly and unaware of his presence as the melodical laugh fell from her lips; a sound Shanks never thought he would once again experience.

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

You tapped the chest of the older sailor in front of you as you continued to laugh at his joke.

“Harold,” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye, “and that’s the reason you only have three toes on your left foot?”

“Honest to goodness, lass,” he continued to rumble laughter, his eyes twinkling with utter mischievousness, “the bloody crab nearly carved the whole lot off, if not for my quick thinking!”

He imitated the pinching movements of a crab’s claw and crooked his head to make himself look as crab-like as he could, prompting another roar of laughter to erupt between the sailors and yourself.

“Alright, I’ll get you that drink then,” you teetered your laughter and turned to address the bartender you had come to know, “Mary, give us a couple schooners of ale- the pale stuff if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Right you are, my love,” she acknowledged your order and began pouring the foamed liquid into two smaller cups.

It had been ten years since you found yourself lying upon the shore with no recollection of who or what you were before your arrival. Thankfully enough, your body was strong. You knew how to hold your own when it came to unwarranted and unreciprocated attention, often brawling with men to assert yourself among them.

As you needed a job to afford food, you managed to bully Captain Harold of the Angelfish Shepherds Fishing Crew and would accompany them out to sea, bringing in several catches a day and selling their many items throughout town. It was only when the sun would disappear behind the horizon, you would come home to the tavern: "Mary’s Resting Track" and make yourself comfortable with your crew at the bar; drinking well into the night.

Just as Mary had finished pouring from the keg, you felt an arm placed upon your left shoulder, prompting you to turn to face it's source.

“My bride,” a tall, red-headed man gasped in a voice above a whisper as he drew you in to place his lips against yours. You squealed at the tender impact, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth at the sudden softness and passion you felt from the unknown man. You pushed on his chest slightly before creasing your brows in confusion.

“Steady on, Sailor. Save it for your wife,” you laughed at him, collecting the two schooners from the bar and placing one into the hands of Captain Harold, “or at least buy me a drink first!”

You laughed, prompting your crew to do the same as they raised their glasses and took a drink. You rose yours to your lips and drank from it, keeping playful eye contact with the sailor before you.

He was handsome, his red hair immediately drawing you in. He had a black cloak shrouding his left arm from view and a three-point claw mark over his left eye. His face held a shocked, sobering expression on it as if he was staring at something extra-terrestrial in make.

“Y-You,” he stuttered out, “Y-You’re.”

The words caught in his throat as he again reached his right hand up to attempt to secure a fallen strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You swatted his hand away from completing the action.

“No,” you said firmly, playfulness leaving your face as your eyebrows collected themselves with a frown, “no one touches my hair. It’s out of bounds to even those who know me, and know me; you do not.”

You swiped his arm away fully away from your face while keeping a warning, reprimanding look on your features. He continued to stare at you, his eyes swelling slightly as they fluttered between your own; pleading with you and searching within them for a small shroud of recognition.

“She’s saving it for her beloved,” your crewman mocked you in a high-pitched tone, bringing humour once again to the room. You laughed at his jest, prompting you to turn away from the red head to scold his imitation.

“I don’t sound like that,” you laughed at him, prompting your crewman to again mock you by wobbling his head from side to side and scrunching up his face.

You turned back around to see the man again gazing with a fierce intensity born deeply into your eyes and managed this time to tuck a strand of your hair behind your left ear with his right hand. At this, you brought your own hand firmly up and struck the side of his face, all humour once again leaving you.

At the crisp strike, chaos erupted at the bar. A crew of pirates drew their pistols, pointing it towards you; while your crew of sailors pulled their own from their belt and aimed it at them in response. You kept your eyes completely fixed on the red-haired pirate as his face continued to hold a yearning expression.

“She gave you a warning, Sailor,” your Captain spat at him, “I don’t care how much ale you consumed, you respect the wishes of a lady.”

This seemed to shatter whatever illusion was held on the redhead in front of you as he looked to the assortment of pirates behind him. He held up his hands in defence of himself, taking a step back from his proximity near you and nodding his head in a deep bow.

“Easy, lads,” he smiled, “put them away. We don’t bring out our guns at one little slap.”

The crew focussed their attention on you as you shook your head and creased your brows at his address. He again turned to you, and bowed his head slightly deeper as an apology.

“You’ll have to excuse me, miss,” he uttered, “I didn’t mean to cross your boundary. It was reactionary, and for that I offer my most sincere apologies.”

Your gaze softened at his words as you gently used your pointer finger to raise his chin to look at you once more.

“Apology accepted on the condition of buying me and my friends a round of drinks,” you scrunched your nose with a small wink. He laughed at your remark, shaking his head and smiling once more.

“I would have to agree, miss. Definitely the next one on me,” he continued to gaze into your eyes as you withdrew your finger from his chin and tapped his nose with it playfully.

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

You didn’t remember him. That must be the only reason you didn’t hoist yourself into his single arm and cling yourself against him. Why you didn’t lean into the kiss and allow him to lace his hand into your hair and relieve your face from it shrouding your vision. The act so intimately solidifying your relationship in the early days, holding onto it as you spoke your wedding vows.

No-one was to ever touch your hair apart from yourself and your beloved were the words you spoke while dressed in your white, lace dress aboard the Red Force; Beckman performing the ceremony all those years ago.

You were married in your youth, relationship blossoming from friendship to something more on the Oro Jackson under the watchful gaze of Gol D. Roger. The subtle glances turned into subtle touches, turning into kisses stolen from within the hidden halls of the Oro Jackson as you would press each other against the walls and roam your hands along your bodies.

He was obsessed with your hair, and with each caress, each embrace, he would find himself absent-mindedly playing with it. You vowed alongside your commitment in matrimony that only he and he alone would be allowed to tuck your hair behind your ear in adoration; and you be the only one permitted to place a kiss atop the crown of his head.

Shanks had to contain himself as his soul screamed within the chasms of his chest to embrace you, to hold you against him and cry out in joy at your return. He didn’t touch another woman in the ten long years it had been since your last departure; the notion turning to ash in his mouth at the mere suggestion. It had only been until recently that Beckman prompted him to seek out someone to relieve his tension, but he felt it would’ve been an insult to the beautiful memories you shared with one another.

You were even in the process of early conversations on what starting a family would look like aboard the Red Force with his assortment of rowdy crew.

You would bicker at having the ship make birth permanently at a port, returning every two weeks to the solid shore as Shanks refused to halt his travels. He wanted you and the children aboard, rearing them alongside his crew; an idea you immediately shot down as you understood infants waking and crying at every interval and the disruption would not be fair to bring to the crew.

Shanks remembered Beckman adding to that conversation with: “We’re already getting sleepless nights from the sounds echoing the halls originating at your quarters!”

He chuckled at the memory before he remembered the fear on your face as the storm threw you overboard in your attempt to raise the sheet from the topmast and secure it in place. The black sky and torrential winds making it impossible to see your form as you struggled against the waves. He didn’t see what happened, only noticing your departure once they successfully made it through the storm and into the central eye of it.

The roar-like scream rumbling throughout the chest of the Red-Haired Captain still reverberating within the ears and memories of the entire crew as they recollect it every year. The pain shared amongst them as their captain bore his grief openly; drowning in rum every night before Beckman pulled him out of his rut with the reprimand: “this is not what she would have wanted.”

It mattered not what happened to him from that point. The pain of loosing you was far greater than any earthly injury could bring forth. He didn’t even bat an eye as his arm was claimed by a great Sea-Beast; consuming his flesh within it’s belly. He was more upset by the fact his golden wedding band perished at its disappearance.

And here you were, not a scratch upon you; laughing as if you had not a care in the world.

You had no memory. That was the only explanation Shanks had as he gazed lovingly at you, drinking your free ale at his expense.

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

You shook your head at a comment made by one of your crewmen as they suggested to hold a drinking competition between the red-haired pirate’s crew and your own.

“I don’t think I have enough booze in the house for that,” Mary laughed from behind the bar.

You smiled at her comment, turning back around to see the far off look in the red-head’s eyes.

“You know,” you nudged him with your shoulder, bringing his attention back towards you, “for someone that leads in lips first, you’re awfully quiet.”

He chuckled at your comment, expression softening but with a hidden depth you couldn’t quite understand.

“I’m not usually like this,” he scrunched his nose up with a smile.

“Rough time at sea, then?” you asked him, gesturing to Mary with two fingers to indicate your intentions of purchasing the next round for you and the red-head.

“Not particularly, its just-,” his words trailed off, prompting you to gaze your eyes; flittering them between his own two deep brown orbs before he took a deep breath and looked forward at his crew interacting with your own.

“You gestured for the good stuff, right?” she asked, placing two short, round glasses down on the counter; spiced rum swishing in the base as she did so.

“That I did, love,” you replied, placing down your berry on the counter and taking the glasses from it. You went to place the glass into the red-head Captain’s hands, noticing it was already occupied with a half-drunk tankard of ale.

“You keen on a rum?” you asked him, bringing his gaze up. He gasped out a quick hum, raising the tankard and downing the remainder of his ale with haste and placing the empty vessel atop the bar. He rose his hand to accept your offer and his fingers brushed against your own as he claimed the drink from your hand.

He looked down to your collar bone and noticed a single gold ring hung from a piece of fine leather around it. He furrowed his brows at it as to inspect it from his great distance.

“The gold band around your neck,” he gestured down to your left hand, “are you married?”

“Not to my knowledge, Sailor,” you laughed at him, “I was found with it.”

You sipped at the rum and creased your brows as the heavy alcohol entered your system.

“I apologise for slapping you,” you uttered, “I, uh. I made a promise, you see. I don’t really know what about or to whom, truthfully.”

He hummed at your comment, fixing his eyes on your face as you spoke. He trailed his eyes over your body, looking at you with an expression completely unreadable. Somewhere between: bewildered, surprised, great sorrow, relief, curiosity and apprehension.

“I don’t actually have a lot of that – knowledge, I mean,” you reiterated with a smile, “For the better part of ten years, I’ve been building back what I think I used to be like. I have no idea, though. I could’ve been some prissy young lass with a string of twelve children; or some standoffish, uptight cow-.”

“-You were never like that,” the red-head interrupted you, prompting you to snap your gaze up to meet with his.

“Do you know me, Sailor?” you asked him, your brows creasing together.

“Shanks,” he corrected you, “my name is Shanks.”

“Alright, Shanks,” you corrected yourself, “Do you know me?”

He sighed, drinking a small amount of liquid from his glass and looking to the rowdy crowd as their boisterous laughter echoed throughout the walls.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m going to need two things,” he said, downing the remainder of alcohol from his glass in one quick swell, “another drink, preferably a bottle this time.”

You laughed at him, before asking; “and the other thing?”

“Privacy,” he uttered with a small hint of sadness. You expressed concern within your eyes before patting him on the back and rubbing small circles in comfort to him.

You weren’t sure why you brought your hand up to comfort him, it seemed almost reactionary. A natural instinct of familiarity; organic.

“Alright, Shanks,” you began, making eye contact with Mary once more, “I’ll buy you a bottle under one condition.”

“And what might that be?” he chuckled warmly.

“That you give me a small glint of information before we proceed to the beach,” Mary placed the bottle on the counter and you placed down more berry in response, “I need to know if you are threatening me with a good time, or if you plan on executing me to reclaim some debt.”

“Were we enemies?” you asked him, bearing your gaze at the wall behind the bar.

“Sometimes,” Shanks shrugged his shoulders, prompting you to snap your gaze back to his. He erupted a full belly laugh from his diaphragm at your reaction. He let out a deep sigh before he suggested; “let’s make to the beach and I’ll fill you in.”

Mary smiled, looking between the two of you before the beckoning of Captain Harold and several bottles of the cheapest rum called her from her place before you.

You nodded, neglecting to collect glassware while you grasped the neck of the bottle; not once removing your eyes from the red-head next to you.

You made your way down towards the beach, walking in step with Captain Shanks, as the crew bid him goodnight. You noticed several members of his crew gawked at you as if they had seen a phantom or something of the make.

Once gazing into the open sea, the Captain plonked himself unceremoniously on the sand, legs spread wide as he sat with his knees bent upwards. You smiled at him before crouching down to sit beside him, uncorking the fresh rum bottle in your hands and offering it to him. He smiled as he took it from your grasp and brought it to his lips.

You trailed your eyes over his form, trying to conjure a whisp of memory from the recesses of your mind. After having no image return to you, you rose up your voice.

“So-,” you began, only to be cut off my Shanks.

“You were – are,” he started to relay, laughing at the fact he spoke over you. You nodded to him to continue.

He paused, sighing before again voicing what he was attempting to confess to you.

“It’s been ten years to the day since I lost you,” he sighed, looking down to the sand near his knees, “and not a day went by that my thoughts were not drawn to you.”

You looked at him, puzzled at what he was telling you.

“Your gold band,” he gestured with his hand towards your neck grasping the bottle, keeping his eyes fixed on the sand below him, “was gifted to us by our former Captain we served under: Gol D. Roger. He had a lot of love for you and I.”

“The King of the Pirates?” you asked him, eyes wide before adding, “and us. What do you mean, us?”

He sighed again, this time bringing his head to slouch back as he gazed at the dark and cloudless sky above you.

“I can’t tell you what happened right now. It’s-,” he paused between the words, prompting you to inch forward and look at his face. He turned his face away from you as you attempted to gaze into his eyes; “-it’s too painful today.”

You frowned and instead reached down to the hand placed upon his hand, and swiftly reclaimed the rum bottle from within his grip. He turned his head towards you at this and trailed his eyes up to yours as you placed the lip of the bottle and downed two large gulps of the liquid. You squeezed your eyes as the strong alcohol burned its way down your throat and into the pit of your belly.

He laughed at your actions, finally the forlorn expression eclipsed by glee.

“You haven’t changed,” he uttered, reaching his hand up to your hair before recoiling it back again. You watched him do this, as processing the boundary you expressed earlier still lingered within his thoughts. Instead of reaching your hair with his hand, he fell his grasp to your hands as they held the rum bottle.

“Is there truly nothing you remember of me?” He asked you, looking down to where his single hand rested upon your own. You furrow your brows and search your mind through closed eyes, willing yourself to remember any aspect about him. You hissed out a growl in frustration as you found no recollection.

“I want to,” you whispered to him, “you seem a decent kind of man, if not a little forward with the kiss and all.”

He chuckled at your comment, his laughter building to a rumble. His shoulders began to quake lightly as his laughter died and morphed into soft sobs. He attempted to conceal them from you by raising his hand up from where it rested atop his knee and turned to face away from you. You were overwhelmed slightly by this man becoming wrecked with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, bringing yourself to rest on your knees as you pulled yourself closer to him.

You opened your arms and shimmied your legs forward, hoisting them over his bent knees and found a comfortable spot on the sand to rest between them. Your arms circled his shoulders as you felt his right arm wrap beneath your waist and hook up your spine. He held his face flush with your stomach and squeezed his hand to grasp at your body as if you were to slip away at any moment. You felt his shoulders begin to relax into your embrace while inhaling your scent. You looked down the top of his head before absentmindedly bringing your lips down to place a chaste kiss against his hair. He flinched slightly at this impact, tension building in his shoulders before he slumped them forward.

You heard him sigh into your diaphragm as you did so, bringing his face away from its hidden position against you and resting his chin atop your chest to bring his sights to look up at you. For some reason, this man as he held you in an intimate proximity did not have you thrusting him away from your with excessive force as you did with so many others.

You unwrapped your left hand from around his shoulders and set it against his cheek. His youthful smile returning as you caressed him. You warmly smiled in response, feeling the gruff of his stubble against the palm of your hand before he turned his head and placed a brief kiss atop your inner hand.

“I am willing to dedicate the rest of my life to getting you to fall in love with me once again,” he whispered against your hand before turning his head to meet your gaze, “this I swear.”

Your eyes widened at the comment with a small smile toying at your mouth.

“I gather my undying devotion is overwhelming for you,” he chuckled, prompting you to move your hand away from his face and place both hands atop his shoulders.

“It is, to be perfectly candid with you,” you giggled at him, smoothing your arms over his shoulders and tracing circles against them with your thumbs, “I have tried everything to bring a small fragment of the person I once was to the forefront of my being.”

He trailed his hand from its place at the small of your back and rested it atop your left hip, grasping it firmly within his palm and kneading the flesh beneath it.

You brought your attention to the gold ring on your leather necklace as you held onto his shoulder, narrowing your eyes at the metal slightly; pleading within your own mind to bring forth any memory of the man cradling himself against you.

“To put myself in your hideous sandals,” you uttered, prompting him to quirk his head slightly to the side, “you found me, and it’s almost as if you did so only to lose me again.”

“Aye, it is,” he nodded, looking down again and meeting his eyes with the flesh of your forearm. He ghosted his lips over your left arm, dragging it higher within the crook of your elbow. Your hair follicles stood on edge under his ministrations, as he continued to not kiss your skin; but rather feel the way your body tasted below his lips.

“And you looked lovely in my highly practical sandals, last time you wore them,” he smirked his lips against your flesh before placing a kiss against it. He trailed kisses varying in intensity back down your forearm and against your wrist, prompting your breath to hitch in your throat.

That comment was it. After a variety of interpersonal and intimate words shared regarding your prior relationship with the man beneath you; it was the ugly sandals that brought a flitter of memory to grace behind your eyes. Any other comment; the hand in your hair from earlier, the wedding ring gifted by Gol D. Roger before he was executed, anything else; it was the ugly sandals he found in the run of the mill town that he purchased and, much to your horror, wore in public.

You remember taking them from his room and fleeing above deck with them in an attempt to throw them overboard to rid yourself of their ugliness forever, only to have your waist caught by your husband as he twirled you around to face the deck again with playful reprimand in the process of doing so.

At the request of your husband, you placed them on your feet and experienced the absolute comfort they bore you; almost shrieking in disgust at yourself for relishing in the feeling; as he belly-laughed at you.

“We’ll get you some at the next port” you heard his voice within your mind, “then we can be matching.”

You remembered him wiggling his eyebrows, prompting you to place your closed fist against his chest and tap him slightly.

“We can even get tiny little ones for when you relent and let me put a child in you,” you remembered his tone, causing a blush to rise presently to your cheeks.

“Something the matter, love?” Shanks' voice brought you from your singular memory and back into the present moment you were sharing so intimately with your husband.

No other memory sprang forward, only a few whispers of certain smells: sea water, spiced rum and stagnant drinking water with the natural smell men aboard a boat. You circled your arms around his shoulders and again pressed him against yourself, smothering his face against your sternum between your breasts. Your mouth fell slack as you pressed your face into his hair and inhaled the aroma of the fragrance he favoured to utilise in his red locks: sandalwood and ginger prominent with his natural scent lingering beneath it.

You began to feel a rough flurry of taps from the man beneath you as he indicated for you to release him. His laughter was unrestrained as his eyes twinkled with mischievousness.

“As happy as I am to once again have my face pressed between your breasts,” he heaved his laughter, “I do require air to sustain me.”

He brought his eyes to meet yours as you stared your eyes on the crashing waves of the beach as the tide began to come in further. Your eyes remained wide as you continued to will a semblance of recollection to come to you.

Once you offered no rebuttal at his comment, he again reached his hand up towards your hair only to halt it once more.

“What is it?” he asked you, now placing his right hand atop your left arm, holding it lovingly.

“I-,” you began, the words now halting between your lips. You brought your eyes down to look down and you continued to flitter them between each of his own.

“I-,” you again said, leaning in closer to him; prompting him to have a sense of seriousness overcome his features, “-will never own a pair of those ugly sandals.”

Immediately his seriousness fell away and his face split into a wide grin as his laughter rumbled within his chest one more.

“Yes, you always hated them. I think they’re wonderful,” he gasped while stifling his laughter. You continued to hold his shoulders as his laughter teetered off into a dull rumble.

“I tried to throw them overboard,” you uttered almost inaudibly, “and you threatened me with buying more of them.”

“You remember,” he gasped out a breathy sigh, “you remember me.”

He brought his torso up further to bring your foreheads to rest against each other. He nuzzled your nose slightly at the impact and squeezed his eyes shut with delight. He began to lean in to graze your lips with his, only to be halted by your gentle touch to bring him back.

“I don’t remember anything else aside from your disgusting sandals,” you whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them again and looking at him half-lidded, “and the way you looked at me when you suggested we begin trying for a child.”

A small gasp left his lips as a single tear fell from his right eye. Immediately he pulled your head against his further, seeking out your lips with his own. He moved his hand from its place at your hip to snake around your waist and hold you firmly against his lap. You felt him moan against your lips as you reciprocated his enthusiasm by lacing your fingers into his hair and tugging lightly at the new growth at the back of his neck.

As your proximity was so flush against one another, you had no choice but to press your full weight against him as he laid with his back against the sand; his hair sprawling out atop the course surface. He expertly maneuvered his right leg beneath yours without breaking the kiss, gasping into it as he darted his tongue out to meet with your own.

A soft whimper flung itself from your lips as he relentlessly attacked your mouth with his own; flittering deep and hungry kisses while trying to taste as much of you as he could with his tongue. You unlaced your fingers from his hair and raked them down his shoulders to his chest, massaging the hard muscle beneath them as you continued in your exploration. He gently rose his hand from its place around your waist and drew itself beneath your shirt and groaned when he felt your tender flesh beneath the material.

Placing your right hand below his cloak, you raked your fingers further along his ribcage and drew them up towards his left arm – halting your movement as you found none residing there.

You squealed into his mouth, feeling him smirk against your lips. You attempted to break from the kiss, only to feel his hand climb higher beneath your blouse and lie flat against your spine between your shoulder blades and continue passionately exploring your lips.

“Shanks,” you murmured a warning reprimand against his lips. He smiled while maintaining his lips against your own, feeling the soft pearls of his teeth as they made contact with your mouth. He continued to chase your lips each time you attempted to flee from his embrace.

You brought your hands up to ball the material of his white shirt within your fists and held him further against yourself, prompting him to let down his guard as he whimpered into your lips at your sudden domination. As soon as you felt him relinquish a small spectrum of control, you pushed hard on his collar bones and pried him from your lips. He first groaned in frustration before his body was wracked with uncontrollable laughter. He collapsed against the ground, prompting you to roll your body from above him to onto your own back in the sand as his laughter became contagious.

And as earlier, the heaving of your shoulders in fits of laughter evolved into heavy sobs from the both of you as you mourned the time lost between you.

“My bride,” Shanks called from beside you as he placed his right hand upon his eyes in an attempt to control his emotions.

“Yes, my groom,” you said as more of a whimper than an address.

He rolled over onto his side and hovered his face above yours, as the tears freely fell down the faces of the two of you; the moonlight cascading over your lover’s hair. Hesitantly, he reached his right hand up to your hair and slowly brought some loose strands from your face and wove it behind your ear. He sighed in relief as he watched you close your eyes and lean into his touch, taking your quivering lip between your teeth as you did so.

“You are as beautiful as the day I lost you,” he whispered with a slight hitch of his voice. You reopened your eyes to watch him smiling through his sorrow. You returned his expression and caressed his chest and ghosting your fingertips over his left shoulder.

“And you are one arm less than I remember,” you beamed a wide smile and giggled a little at your prod. He joined you in your laughter and pressed a chaste kiss against your hair before rising to his feet and offering you his right hand to hoist you up to meet him. You took his hand and allowed him to hoist you to your feet, before he dipped his shoulder down to make contact with your waist and lifted you over his right shoulder. He secured you in place with a crisp slap upon your left ass-cheek as he effortlessly crouched down to retrieve the forgotten, half-drunk rum bottle. He rose again to his feet and began to walk with you over his shoulder, using his teeth to uncork the rum bottle and spitting it against the sand.

“Is this quite necessary?” you asked him, mock annoyance in your tone.

He laughed and took a long swig from the rum bottle and gasped in joy as the liquid burnt its way down his throat.

“Not only is it necessary,” he called to you over his left shoulder, “it is also compulsory.” You laughed at him as he almost jigged back towards the tavern, him joining you in your laughter upon arriving at its steps and flinging open the door with his feet.

The arrival of the two of you had cheers erupting and reverberating from every corner and crevasse of the wooden building. Tankards were thrust into the air, foam sloshing carelessly from the top and onto the floor; much to the many protestations of Mary.

Shanks placed you on the floor after setting aside the bottle of rum atop a cylindrical raised bar table.

“Alright lads,” he addressed the room, “let me reintroduce you to my wife!”

He extended his right hand out for you to place your left hand within. As soon as you did so, he effortlessly spun you into him, your left arm laced over your front as he cradled you against himself.

You looked up to his face, your neck laying against his shoulder as he brought his lips down to meet your own for the first time publicly in a decade. Applause, shouts of glee and delight, more sloshing of ale and verbal reprimands from the tavern keeper echoed the hall as you smiled against the lips of your beloved. Your husband, and his bride.

#one piece #opla #x reader #shanks opla #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece live action #opla fic #amnesia trope #my playlist broke me #angst #angst with a happy ending

831 notes · View notes

yellowpsyduck · 3 months

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Thomas Shelby x Carleton!Reader Warnings: Smut, slight size kink, Tommy attracting posh girls as always

“Are you fucking my sister-in-law?” were the very first words that came out of the young socialite’s mouth. They were directed to the man dressed in the grey suit with the flat cap, as he caressed the grey filly in front of him.

“Such crude words from such a lovely young lass, eh?” the man looked rather amused at her choice of words, much less, her more than direct approach of interrogating him.

The words she’d spoken weren’t quite what he had expected from a girl of her caliber, she seemed far too proper to opt for such language.

But she held her ground that girl, with her fashionably short bob and her velvet dress that would probably fetch enough pounds to feed a small family for a week in Small Heath. She didn’t waver under his icy stare, nor did she retreat her questioning glare. In fact, to his surprise, she arched her carefully sculpted eyebrow, as though prompting him to explain himself.

She must be a London girl, he noted, such brazenness could only mean that she must've lived a sheltered life, never having to put her guards up in fear of gangsters and certainly never having to do anything with filthy old Birmingham.

No, all she had to do was look pretty and polite and pop open bottles of champagne, dancing the night away to the Foxtrot and Charleston. She didn’t have a clue who he was, didn’t have a clue what he did and certainly didn’t have a clue as to why he always kept a Webley MK VI in his gun strap.

Tommy found it quite refreshing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone talked to him so incredibly audaciously, if it wasn’t to barrage him with threats to his life.

“I believed I asked you first, Mister” came the reply from her tinted red lips, looking rather displeased that her question was met with another.

“Well, a lady like you shouldn’t worry about adult matters.” he replied as he fished his pockets for the metal cigarette case. “Anyways, she's your sister-in-law you say?” he offered her a cigarette, a habit of his which he’d developed from constantly being surrounded by chain smokers.

“She is, or she was.” she took him up on his offer, as he lit it up for her, “Ian was my brother. His passing was hard on all of us; for her more than anyone else. So, I come up here any chance I get to keep her company, but now I see that’s no longer needed of me.” she said as she eyed him from head to toe, sizing him up almost.

“Don’t let me be a bone of contention now.” he replied, his couldn’t possibly add another trouble to his list, the Epsom and Major Campbell were already a handful, to say the very least.

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” A hint of surprise glazed over his eyes as he looked at her delicate features. “I’m quite relieved she isn’t shutting herself up." she trailed off, "And you’re certainly not the worst pick for a suitor.”

“Now don’t go sizing me up for a wedding suit, Miss.” he said taking another drag of his cigarette “May and I are just.... acquaintances. She’s training my horse for the Derby, this beauty over here, you see.” he motioned to the grey horse behind him.

“Oh.” She looked at him with an abashed humour in her eyes. “Then you must pardon my poor choice of words. I’m sure you won’t take the silly musings of a girl to heart.”

She flicked the cigarette bud to the ground, stomping it lightly with the heel of her dainty Mary Janes.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Vera Carleton.” she extended her hand to him, her lips adorned with the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen in his entire existence. He took her hands in his, their sizes differing starkly. “I’m Thomas. Thomas Shelby.”

“Well then Mr. Shelby, now that the previous fiasco is behind us, I must be off. My friends will be waiting for me, I’m afraid. There's a new club in the city called the Babylon, you might’ve heard of it, they’ve invited this jazz band from the Colonies. My friends say it’s all the rage these days.” she explained to him.

Thomas knew she was one of those girls. The ones that never had to worry about a thing in their lives, except for what they’d wear to a social dinner or what diamonds to pair with what dress and he knew that a part of him wished he could be as carefree as them. But life had other plans for him, a runaway father, a suicidal mother and a fucking war to top it all off.

But now with the Shelby Company Ltd. and his copious side ventures, he hoped that one day, his children, if he ever found a woman that is, would have a life that mirrored that of the captivating girl in front of him.

“All right then, Miss Carleton, you have a good night now.” he bid the girl farewell as he watched her leave the stables. Her dress swaying with every step she took, she looked very frail, he noted, but not the kind that you’d see in the streets of Watery Lane, more so the kind of frail that was in vogue amongst the ladies of London.

As the night progressed, it became abundantly clear that May Fitz Carleton and Thomas Shelby weren’t just acquaintances, although, that should’ve been clear from the moment he accepted her proposal to stay the night in the manor, more like a fucking castle, he thought.

As night fell, Thomas found himself striding to the doors of his gracious host's, she’d left it unlocked, of course. Neither were novice adolescents; they knew what they wanted, and they certainly weren’t abashed about it. Their business was completed rather quickly though, she seemed unable to fully open her heart out to the deed and he had a myriad of thoughts occupying his mind.

Breakfast was a rather lovely affair. May chose not to bring up their late night discretions, for which he was rather thankful for. In fact, she seemed content with it being a passing liaison, finally someone that’s on the same page as him, he mused.

The lavish spread of food in front of him was overwhelming and he resigned himself to an Earl Grey and a toast. It seemed it was just May that occupied the house, seeing as though they were the only two to grace the table. Their conversations were pleasant, ranging from their shared love for horses to the ones they would be up against at the Derby, when lo and behold, the doors to the room sprung open to reveal a particularly chirpy Y/N, what she would be so cheery for, this early in the morning, he didn’t know.

“Morning, my dearest. Hope you had a lovely night.” The older of the two woman remarked as she kissed her cheeks. “I’ve told Louisa to prepare those Vienna rolls you so love. She should bring it out any minute.” she stated as the maids served the new occupant with a steaming cup of tea.

“That would be lovely, God knows I’m terribly famished.” she strutted into the room, smelling of daisies as she walked past him and kissed her sister-in-law. “Morning to you, my dearest Mayflower.”

She took the seat opposite to his, paying him no mind and absentmindedly blowing into her tea. “Y/N darling, this is Mr. Thomas Shelby, he’s my guest. I'm training his horse for Epsom. " She motioned to the gentleman. "Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s Ian’s sister and the youngest of the Carleton bunch.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” quipped the younger girl, pretending as though they were truly meeting for the first time.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Tommy went along with her play, opting not to reveal their meeting the previous day.

“Madam, there’s a telephone for you. It's from Sir Ascot.” May was quickly ushered out of the room to attend to her business, leaving the unusual pair together.

“So, are you going to keep staring or will you tell me what’s on your mind?” Y/N remarked as she forfeited the staring game they’d had going on.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the girl in front of him was intriguing for sure, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Tommy didn’t know other women besides Ada and Polly that would speak so nonchalantly with him, and he found himself quite enjoying this refreshing exchange.

“Well, you’ve basically been undressing me with your eyes, since yesterday. So, shall we do it in my room or yours?”

This. Tommy wasn’t expecting.

He'd expected a whole lot of other things but not this.

The girl didn’t bat an eye as she said those words, simply sipping on her tea, as though they’d only exchanged pleasantries with each other. Tommy was about to respond when a maid brought a plate of Vienna rolls to the table and diligently served her young Miss.

As soon as her departing figure left the room, Y/N’s eyes darted back up to his, sucking slowly on the gold cutlery as she did. She seemed to be waiting for his reply and Tommy wondered how she’d react if he told her 'No'. Surely, such a girl as lovely as her wouldn’t be used to hearing those words of refusal. All she’d have to do was bat her pretty lashes, pout her soft lips and no one would dare refuse such a divine creature.

And Tommy was by no means a saint. A posh girl like her asking him to fuck her wasn’t something that happened on the daily. And again, Tommy might be a man with great restraint, but he was a man after all.

He'd be lying if he said his pants hadn’t gotten the slightest bit tighter at the sight of her sucking and licking on the spoon, that when he was balls deep inside May the previous night, all he thought about was the girl in front of him. Even now, as she sat in front of him, in her lace dress, he could see the slightest imprint of her breasts against the fabric of the dress.

Tommy took in a deep breath, setting the teacup back on the porcelain saucer, when finally, he muttered “You don’t know who I am, do you, little girl?” For if she did, she wouldn’t have uttered those words, much less, even sip her tea so peacefully in his presence.

“Should I care?” she asked in mock concern, “All I know is that you’re a well dressed gentleman that’s got a nice deep voice.” Truly, that was all she looked for. If a man had a deep enough pocket and an ever deeper voice, she’d go weak in the knees, and she knew May wouldn’t associate herself with a man that didn’t have the former.

“Y/N Carleton, you’re truly a work of art, eh?” he chuckled, genuinely in awe of her intrepidity.

“Well, that amongst other things.” came her quick reply, flashing him a cheeky smile.

“Do you think she’ll notice? If were both absent from the table, that is.” he asked in reference to May, she sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate his advances towards her sister-in-law.

“Don’t you worry, Sir Ascot is a hard fellow to deal with, he’ll talk her ear off for hours.” she stated unconcerned as she took strode out of the room, glancing back at him.

“In fact, forget about the bedroom, there's a storeroom over there that’s unfrequented. God knows your staring is making me wild as it is.” She turned and left the room, the gentle sway of her hips beckoning him to follow her. And follow he did.

Thomas fucking Shelby following after a girl, his brothers would’ve had a field day had they learnt of it.

But he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted her.

He wanted to fuck her till she screamed his name.

He wanted to fuck her till she couldn’t walk.

He wanted to fuck her till she was a crying mess.

The storeroom was quite spacious, like most of the rooms of this manor. But he wasn’t here to admire this. No. He came here for her. As soon as the latch to the door was shut closed, their lips crashed together.

Oh! He could have had her then and there, her lips were so incredibly soft and moulded with his so fucking perfectly. Her hands found themselves in his hair and she tugged lightly, making him crazy at her touch, while his hands kneaded her supple buttocks. She might’ve been slim, but she was certainly well endowed in just the right areas.

She soon broke the kiss and quickly worked to unbutton her dress, looking at him as he did, and that smile. That fucking smile of hers. Thomas didn’t know anyone more lovely than her.

She stripped down to her chemise, her garter bands visible underneath. He couldn’t control himself at the sight of her lovely frame. His hands soon brought the straps of her flimsy cover down, exposing her delicate brassiere which was also discarded on the floor.

She looked glorious standing in front of him, in just her garter bands and stockings. He would fuck her with those on he decided. The sight of her thighs in those were making the tent in his pants so painfully obvious.

She undid his suspenders, kneeling down as she pulled his trousers down, freeing his throbbing red cock from it’s tight restraints. She blushed a little at the obscene sight, sure she’d seen her fair share of cocks, but none as majestic as his. Tommy Shelby had drawn him to her because of his deep voice, but his huge cock, now that was a brilliant surprise. The London chaps she’d been with just couldn’t compare.

She licked the precum that was dripping from his tip, making him shudder in anticipation and little by little she licked the length of his entire shaft, making sure to drag her tongue along every crevice. She held her cock in both hands, it’s sheer size making her marvel. As Tommy looked down, the sight below him was eliciting a dark reaction inside of him, her little dainty fingers wrapped around his manhood. God! She looked so very small.

She sucked his cock, trying her best to take in as much as she could. She was diligent, for sure, doing her best to make him happy, taking small breaths, accommodating her throat for his dick and working her hands constantly along his shaft or his balls.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he breathed out raspily. She was an angel.

An angel sent just to fuck him. He didn’t know any woman or whore that was doing the things she was. But here she was, a little thing like her milking his cock like a good girl.

He grabbed her hair, lightly bucking his hips inside of her mouth. She seemed to be suffocating almost, his big dick choking her. Almost.

“Just like that baby, just like that.”

Fuck! She was such a good girl, holding her cries till he released his load inside of her mouth. “Swallow.” he commanded. She was a glorious mess, doing as he commanded her.

Her eyes were watery, and her mouth was thoroughly abused, but she still looked at him with devotion laced in her beautiful eyes.

He lifted her off the ground and laid her on the table like surface. He spread her legs wide open with his hands and marveled at the sight. Her throbbing cunt, glistening in arousal looked so warm, so inviting. He kissed her on the lips once more and dove in to eat her out, but a small hand covered the entrance.

“She might be done soon, so, please just fuck me.” she cried, so obviously starved for him.

He wasted no time and rubbed her clit, making sure her entrance was slick enough, and she was, so incredibly wet for him. He lined his dick to the entrance of her pussy and thrusted lightly. Just the tip he moaned. Just the tip and she was already on the verge of tears.

“Just breathe, love. Just breathe for me, eh?” he cooed in her ear as his hips thrusted in small motions to enter her tight cave, rubbing her clit as he did. And then with a final thrust he entered her pussy.

God! She felt so good. Her tight walls caved around his cock, stimulating him in ways he didn’t think possible. His motions became faster as her cries became louder.

“Tommy!” she moaned over and over again, seemingly unable to formulate any coherent sentences, her brain clogged with the intense pleasure of his cock ramming into her.

“You fit me so well, Y/N. I’m never letting go of you or your tight fucking pussy after this.” he moaned in her ear.

The constant slapping of skin and unbridled moans didn’t leave much to the imagination of the maids and butlers that might’ve overheard, but they didn’t care. All they knew was that they were nearing their release and it just felt so fucking good.

“Tommy, I’m close.” she managed to stumble out the words.

“Wait for me, love. You’re gonna cum when I tell you to.” he groaned as he fastened his pace, evidently nearing his release.

And with a final thrust, he whispered in her ear and they let go. They were quite the pair to look at. Him, with his trousers on the floor, his hands gripping onto her waists and his eyes never leaving hers and she, with her damn naked body, her tear streaked cheeks and her smudged lipstick.

Tommy gave her a sweet kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her naked body as they remained in the warm embrace. Their heartbeats were gradually returning to usual, and their panted breathing became steadier.

He retrieved a handkerchief from his pockets and delicately cleaned her sore entrance. The evidence of their lovemaking spilled lewdly on the floor; it was to be someone else’s problem, not theirs. He slipped the stained handkerchief into his pockets and helped her dress. She seemed incredibly satiated as she stared at him with sheer fondness in her eyes.

Tommy knew that he couldn’t let go of her now. Not after this.

She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet.

“We best get going now, love.” he told her as he waited for her to gather herself together.

“Wait, silly, you’ve got lipstick on your nose.” she giggled as she rubbed the scarlet red lipstick off for him, standing on the tip of her toes.

She moved to open the door, but her steps felt awkward. He chuckled at her attempt to walk and offered his hand so she may lean on him. The walk back to the table was interesting, with her uncharacteristic gait and lipstick that seemed to have been smudged clean, and his hair that had been slightly disheveled and lips that held the faintest smile.

Both looked nothing like they had a few moments prior. If the maids noticed the obvious change, they didn’t comment on it as they dutifully carried out their tasks, making the most possible effort to not offend the pair as they walked through the halls.

May arrived a few minutes later rambling about how much she would’ve loved to cut the call halfway, had Sir Ascot not been an influential member of the Board. She had been so engrossed in her rant that perhaps, she didn’t notice the obvious change in the mood.

She also didn’t notice the fact that Thomas Shelby’s eyes never once left her sister-in-law who insouciantly continued drinking her tea that was far too cold by now.

“Well, May, my stay here has been lovely, but I best get going now.” he uttered at last, the business back at home didn’t wait for no one, especially not for him to fuck posh girls.

“Indeed, I assume you must have your work cut out for you and oh! I forgot to tell you this morning that I’ve had your car stocked up with engine oil, so, it’ll be a smooth ride home.”

“Thank you for that, May.” he put on his coat and thanked her for her gracious hosting.

“Tommy.” she called out as he stepped into his vehicle. “Will I see you again?”

“I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, Miss Carleton.”

Miss not Mrs. because his eyes, as he spoke those words weren’t on the woman in front of him, but rather they were on the girl that stood at the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

Ah! That smile.

The drive home was brisk, his mind occupied with the image of her and that darn smile. He may have been back in Birmingham, but he knew that apart of his mind had been left behind with a particularly charming girl in the Carleton Estate.

#tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction

637 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 25 days

Text

Cracked Clay Cup

for @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Are you awake?”

Until he heard that question, the answer to it would have been a resounding no. However, he was awake now, so he pried his eyes open to squint at whoever had interrupted his sleep.

“Maybe,” he mumbled into a fluffy pillow.

“Excellent. Then we can start the questionnaire.”

In his opinion, it was far too early for a questionnaire. On the other hand, the creeping feeling that something wasn't quite right was creeping its way up his spine. He levered himself out of his blanket cocoon and into a sitting position. Then he retrieved his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. He wanted to be cozy.

“Questionnaire?” he asked.

“Indeed. It’s not long.”

“Um, okay. What are you doing in, um…” This… wasn’t his bedroom. He was pretty sure this wasn’t his bedroom. Or any place he’d seen before.

He also didn’t think he’d seen the ghost before, which added an air of surrealism to the whole situation.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking the ghost up and down. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in purple, with a hooded cloak thrown around his shoulders. There was a rectangular hole in his chest, and in the hole was a pendulum and clock face.

“That is, in fact, one of the questions I have to ask you.” The ghost showed him the back of a clipboard and produced a pen from thin air.

“Um, that, um.” He frowned. “Who am I, or who are you?”

“Yes,” said the ghost. “But let us start at the beginning. Do you know who you are?”

“Well, yeah, sure, I’m… Um. I’m. I…” It should have been an easy question. It should have been a question he didn’t even have to think about, which is why he didn’t. But he didn’t even have the echo of an answer.

“I will mark that down as a no.”

“Wait, wait,” he said, “what’s going on, who am I?”

“I have to go through the whole questionnaire before I answer your questions, I’m afraid. Those are the rules.”

“I… okay?”

“Do you recognize me in any capacity?”

“Nope. Am I supposed to?”

“Excellent. Next question, do you know where you are?”

He shook his head. “Somewhere in the Ghost Zone, I think.”

“Do you know what year it is?”

“Um. Two thousand five? Or, uh, six?” He shrugged. Something like that. It was a little blurry.

“How old are you?”

“Teenage?”

“Can you describe yourself?”

“Um… Forgetful?”

“Physically,” clarified the ghost.

He looked down. He was covered in blankets and therefore unable to see so much as an inch of skin. He crossed his eyes to look at his nose. “White,” he said, finally. “Probably. And a guy. Is that a physical thing?”

The ghost made a note on the clipboard. “And how would you describe your parents? Your family?”

“Uh. They probably… exist.”

“Very good. Favorite band?”

“Dumpty Humpty. Why do I know that and not my name?”

“Please hold your questions until the end. Favorite food?”

“Milkshake. Kiwi fudge. That’s weird. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No weirder than a cheese puff and bacon milkshake.”

“Huh. Is it weird that I want to try that now?”

“Somewhat, but not horribly so.”

He gazed at the ghost silently for several long seconds. The ghost gazed back. This was already an awkward situation, but it was getting worse by the second.

“So… what’s the next question?”

“That was the last question. As you can doubtlessly tell, I am now answering your questions.”

He probably should have noticed that, actually. He leaned forward, eager. “Great, so, uh, what’s going on? Why don’t I remember anything?”

“Your memory was removed in preparation for legal proceedings.” Was it just him, or did the ghost seem… displeased about that?

“Uh… that seems sort of backwards, doesn’t it? If I’m supposed to testify or defend myself, shouldn’t I at least remember what it is I’m doing?”

“That would be true if you were testifying or defending yourself.”

“Okay… So… What am I doing?”

“You are the subject of an extensive custody dispute.”

“And… that means I need to get my memory erased why?”

“We ghosts have a different method of settling custody disputes. We prefer it if the child in question decides who to be with.”

“I kind of feel as if that’d also be easier with my memories.”

“On the contrary, memories can often lead to people choosing to stay in unpleasant situations. For example, memories might create a sense of debt, sentiment, or honor that would prevent an objective decision based on current reality.” The ghost said this as if he was reciting the phrase from rote memory.

“That seems… wrong, somehow. Like, there’s a missed assumption or something.”

“Be that as it may be, it is how we do things.”

“‘We’ being ghosts.”

“Correct.”

“Am I a ghost?” This felt like another of those things he should just know, but, as before, he just didn't.

“An unusual kind, but yes.”

“I'm dead?”

“You died, yes. Whether or not ghosts count as dead is a matter of scholarly debate.”

Well. Okay, then. He didn’t know what to say to that. He sort of thought being dead would have more impact, but maybe it was hard to mourn for a life he didn't remember. Or maybe he'd been dead for long enough that he'd already processed all the implications, and that had stuck around subconsciously. Like the name of his favorite band.

That was still weird.

“So… What happens now? Do you lead me out into the courtroom, see who I run to? Do some kind of genetic test? What are the rules here?”

“On the contrary, we have taken measures to keep your biological family from having an unfair advantage based on resemblance. No. What will happen is that, as a trial, you will spend a few days with each group that put themselves forward as potential guardians. They have acquired housing appropriate for a young ghost, and have been… reviewed… to prevent abuses or other troubles. You may leave their temporary guardianship whenever you choose. However, once you leave, you will not be able to return to them until and unless you choose them at the end of these trials. Between the potential guardians, you will stay here with me.”

There were so many troubling things in that explanation that he didn’t even know where to start.

“So… the courtroom thing, but drawn out.”

“I suppose so, if you choose to look at it that way.”

“Right. So, um. What’s my name?”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Great. Okay. Cool.” Daniel rubbed his eyes. Despite all the heart-attack inducing things he was learning about today, he was still half-asleep. Maybe it was a memory-wipe side-effect. “You know, this is kind of messed up. Some kind of weird reverse fairy tale kind of thing. Like that story where someone has to pick the right girl when she’s been turned into a flower and there are two other flowers. Why do I know that?”

“Unfortunately, I am not allowed to give you that information. I am here to tell you the rules and make sure you are… able to do this.”

“To make sure you guys didn’t nuke my brain, you mean?”

“To some degree, yes. But this is also frequently rather emotional, at least that is my understanding. You are handling it remarkably well.”

“Oh, I’m just delaying my breakdown until after I see what I look like. Better to have some idea of what my body is capable of in terms of punching walls and all that.”

“Wise,” said the ghost, with a small smile. “There is a bathroom just through that door if you wish to examine yourself physically.”

“I’ll do that, in a bit. But, first, um. You keep saying we and us. Who is that? Who’s doing this? I mean, ghosts, sure, but more specifically?”

“The legal system of the Ghost Zone.”

“Which is… Who? Exactly? The Observants?”

“You remember that. Interesting. But, yes, they are, for better or worse.”

“And you? What's your position?”

“I am merely a neutral monitor selected by the Observants.”

“Monitor, huh?”

“I feel as though it would be misleading of me to call myself an observer under these circumstances.”

Daniel nodded. “I can understand that. I guess. Is that, um, your usual job? Taking care of kids like this?”

“I’m afraid not. I work for the Observants in another capacity.”

“What capacity?”

“That would be one of the things I am not permitted to tell you.”

“Okay, and what’s up with that? Why can’t you tell me things?”

“I am not allowed to give you information regarding your own past, including contextual information.”

Daniel frowned at the ghost. “That sort of implies that I knew you, though, doesn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Cool,” said Daniel. “That’s helpful. You’re not in the running for my… whatever I should call this. My guardianship?”

The ghost nodded. “That is an acceptable term, but I must remind you that I am a neutral monitor.”

“Sure. Right.” There were other questions he could ask, other questions he should ask, but his brain felt fried. Did he have a brain, being a ghost and all? Or was he just, like… goo?

Yeah, no, he wasn’t going to ask that. He was going to go do something more… concrete. Bathroom time. He was sure it would be just as harrowing, especially with the implication that his appearance had been changed somehow, but he could be brave.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over. He frowned at the cold floor and decided to take the blankets with him. Then, he realized one of his questions had gone unanswered.

“Hey, um. What’s your name? You never did say.”

“You can call me Clockwork. And when you are done in the bathroom, I have breakfast waiting downstairs.”

Daniel heaved himself up and went to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Clockwork as he went.

This was just… really weird. Should he try to escape? Like, even if Clockwork was telling the truth about everything, this wasn’t exactly what he would call a good situation. But if this was the lie, then what was the truth? The truth was always worse, when people were lying like that.

… Not that Daniel could come up with any specific examples of that. It was more of a feeling.

Soft lights came on in the bathroom as he stepped in. It was… a bathroom. He was sure he’d been in other bathrooms before. This one had a purple-on-lavender color scheme and a large bathtub. The fixtures were brass. In other words, it resembled Clockwork to a surprisingly high degree. Daniel wondered if he lived here normally, or if he’d just been the one to decorate. Or if someone with a sense of irony had decorated it for him.

Whichever. Maybe he’d ask Clockwork about it and see if he answered. It was harmless enough, compared to some of the questions he could ask.

There was also a mirror. He stared at it.

His skin was a sort of tan pink, awash with freckles. His hair was white. His eyes were glowing and green. His ears were long and pointed, curving up around the sides of his face to sit on the top of his head. The blankets were also purple, funnily enough. Huh.

He leaned closer, squinting. What kind of ears were those, anyway? He had to assume he didn’t have them when he was alive and human. Cat? Dog? Fox? It wasn’t an automatic ghost thing, either, since Clockwork didn’t seem to have them, although that hood could likely hide a lot.

If he had animal ears, did he have anything else? Maybe some cool slit pupils? He leaned even closer, over the counter. Maybe? They might be slitted? He alternately blinked and widened his eyes, trying to make his pupils change sizes.

Yes! They were slitted! Cool!

Which put better odds on this being a fox or cat thing than a dog thing. Dogs had round pupils.

Next question: did he have a tail?

He swung the blankets off his shoulders and folded them up so he could set them on the counter. He was, surprise surprise, wearing purple pajamas. But he also had a large, fluffy tail. He petted it. It was very fluffy.

Excellent. He’d always wanted a tail. Well, he’d wanted one for the few minutes he’d been aware there was a possibility he could have one. Very nice. Good feeling. Soft.

It also seemed very unfamiliar.

Precautions.

Right.

The smile slid off his face. Well. On reflection, he didn’t think Clockwork was lying to him, but he really needed to know more about him to make a real determination. Just like he needed to make a determination about his potential ‘guardians.’

This was giving him real adoption scam vibes. Which was weird, because he’d’ve thought that’d be one of the memories they’d erase if they wanted to do that. Maybe memory erasure was just… really inexact. That sounded like a possibility. Maybe there was some other weird scam going on.

Only one way to find out. He washed up, then left the bathroom and navigated towards the stairs.

The stairs were also purple.

Daniel was definitely leaning towards this place being decorated by someone with a weird sense of humor. A non-Clockwork someone. There weren’t nearly enough clocks for this place to have been designed by someone named Clockwork. You had to be really into clocks to name yourself Clockwork.

“Welcome,” said Clockwork, smiling at Daniel from the center of the purple kitchen. “There are pancakes.” He gestured to the table. “And the file next to them has the names of your potential guardians. Why don’t you read through them and see who you might like to stay with first.”

“You want me gone so soon?” asked Daniel, sliding into his seat.

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you want, but then you won’t get your memories back.”

“I can get my memories back?” asked Daniel, looking up sharply.

“Yes, they will be returned after you make your choice,” said Clockwork. He turned back to the stove. “Hashbrowns? Eggs? Sausage?”

“Um,” said Daniel, who was gradually realizing how hungry he was. “All of them?”

“Of course.”

Daniel turned his attention back to the file folder, then flipped it open. Time to see who he was being… adopted by? Was that the right term here?

The first page had seven groups of names, bullet pointed. It was also done in calligraphy, which was certainly a contrast to the plain manila folder it was stored in.

“Anyone catch your eye?” asked Clockwork, setting down a plate with eggs and sausage on it.

“Does it matter which order I do this in?”

“Not at all.”

“So I could start at the end.”

“Indeed.”

“Great,” said Daniel. “Then let’s start there. After breakfast.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

245 notes · View notes

edddimun · 2 years

Text

Fool The Freaks Day

(not my gif)

Eddie Munson x fem! reader

Summary: Your crush on Eddie was meant to be a secret, but after a little special someone overheard, a sudden secret admirer was up your sleeve. Getting lost in the mystery, you didn’t realise what date was coming up— April Fools.

Trope: Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, frenemies!

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, angst (but there’s fluff), pet-names

WC: 8.5k+

A/N: this is the longest one-shot I’ve written lol but I had this idea in mind for a while! And I think this actually might be my favourite work so far! :) I also apologise if there are any mistakes I have missed!

The corridor overflowed with the annoying babble of kids. Some exchanged smiles and laughter, while others exchanged frowns and glares. You, on the other hand, were lost in your own world, observing Eddie lean against his locker, arms crossed in front of his chest, and his hair falling in front of his face every now and then while talking to Gareth.

“Earth to Y/N,” Dustin flailed his arms in front of your face, retreating you from your trance. Clearing your throat, your eyes averted to Dustin who is clearly irritated.

“Did you even listen to what I said?” A huff of annoyance escaped his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah. Something on Friday?” You repeated, well knowing that you pieced together random words that you vaguely remembered from Dustin’s rambling.

He tightly shut his eyes, face-palming himself as he groaned, “Oh my gos- April Fools next Friday.”

“Didn’t you say this week?”

“No!-“ Dustin loudly shrieked, a little too loudly, “What I was saying while you were making out with Eddie with your eyes, was-“

You harshly slapped your palm against Dustin’s mouth, eyes widened as you quickly snapped your head in every direction possible hoping no one caught on to what Dustin said. No one but Dustin knew about your secret crush on Eddie. The term ‘frenemies’ is what Steve and Robin like to describe your relationship with him, always bickering but in a playful way. Max, Mike and Lucas are just convinced you both absolutely hate each other whilst Nancy and had a theory that deep down you both liked each other but denied it.

“Keep it down knucklehead!” You seethed through gritted teeth, eyes still frantically searching the hallways. From your perspective, no one seemed interested or alerted. The stiffness in your shoulders finally became undone, sighing with relief, you glared daggers into Dustin’s eyes before feeling a wet sensation tickle your palm.

“What is wrong with you?!” You hissed towards the boy.

Sinister giggles left his throat as he watched you rigorously grind your hand against your top, creating heat between the two surfaces.

“I just don’t get why you won’t talk to him ‘normally’,” Dustin quietly asked after his fit. His voice was laced with genuine seriousness, now rapidly changing your displeased mood.

Your lips tightened, glancing between the ground and Dustin, “W-wouldn’t it just be weird?” You asked, looking at him with soft eyes, “I feel like this is our ‘normal’ to talk the way we do. Just argue and make sarcastic comments. Nothing is ever nice or genuine. It’s not like I want it to be that way, I would love to change that— b-but I just don’t know how without looking like an idiot.”

Dustin nodded at your reasonable answer before finally responding, “Maybe you can take it slow.”

“Slow?”

“Yeah. Like smiling for once at him, or not making comments as mean or as sarcastic. Then after a few days, you can actually laugh or even agree at his remarks,” Dustin informed with a smile slowly forming on his face, “T-then your jokes will slowly turn into compliments or even flirty comments, and then you both will start talking nicely, then yo-“

“Okay, okay,” You chuckled out, interrupting Dustin’s ramble with a slight tint of pink painted on your cheeks, “You know—you’ve never let me down Dustin,” you empathised as your hand rested on his shoulder, slightly shaking him.

“What can I say, I’m a man of honour,” His wide smile reached his eyes as he showed off his pearly teeth.

“No!” A loud shriek bounced through the hallway, gaining the glares of Jason and Patrick.

“Freaks,” Jason mumbled under his breath, “Anyways, I can’t tonight, Chrissy and I-“

“What I was saying while you were making out with Eddie with your eyes, was-“

Jason’s head whipped towards your direction after the mention of Eddie. Your hand was now masked on Dustin’s mouth as you aggressively mumbled something to the boy.

“Did you hear that?” Patrick snickered to Jason, nudging his shoulder, “The freak likes the freak,” Patrick continued.

The left side of Jason’s lip tugged upwards, a vicious warmth started to warp his mind as his eyes slowly bottled with vengeance.

“You remember the date next Friday?” Jason eerily whispered.

“U-uh,” Patrick stuttered, not recalling anything important on that day, “Not re-“

“April fools,” He cuts him off, finally looking at him in the eyes with a cold-blooded smirk on his face, emitting his bitter intentions.

“It’s fool the freaks day.”

If one person who can ever frustrate you as much as Eddie could, it’s Robin.

“For the millionth time Robin! Cherry and Raspberry don’t taste the same!” You exclaimed whilst aggressively twisting the knob of your locker.

“Um. Yes, they do! I don’t get how you don-” This time you weren’t the one to cut her off. As soon as you opened your locker, a folded white piece of paper fell to the ground. Your brows dipped in confusion, looking at Robin and the mysterious paper.

“W-what’s that?” She hesitantly asked. You bent down to grasp the paper, flipping it over and back, as you started to unfold it.

“Hey,

I know this is really weird, but I hope we can get along some time. I always see you in the hallway talking to our friends and I hope one day that’s going to be us.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

A gasp was heard from Robin as her eyes read the note for the tenth time, “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!” She repeatedly jumped in the air, “You have a secret admirer!” She squealed out loud.

“N-no. This can’t be for me. Whoever this is probably put it in the wrong locker.” Your eyes traced over the crooked handwriting in black ink, trying to recognise it but couldn’t. Your mind started to ponder whether someone has been showing you more attention or not. But you rarely spoke to anyone other than your main group of friends. Could it be Alex from that math assignment? No. He has a girlfriend. Tristan from music? No. What if it was a girl? Victori-

“Y/N!” A voice abruptly spoke over your thoughts, causing your elbow to violently slam against the metal locker.

“Jesus Dustin!” You loudly hissed as you rubbed your elbow, in hopes the pain will disperse quickly.

Dustin and Robin cackled loudly at your unamused state. That was until his gaze fell on the paper in your clutch, his laughter quickly died down as curiosity took over.

“What’s that?” he questioned, eyes still on the paper.

“N-nothing.” You squeezed the forbidden treasure against your chest, your fingers starting to ache from the tight grasp.

Dustin took a step towards you, a menacing smirk on his face as you took a step back.

“Robin, what’s that?” Dustin looked at Robin with one brow raised.

Robin gives you a do-you-want-me-to-tell-him look. In response, you violently shake your head as you continued to take steps back as Dustin started to retreat closer to you.

“Dustin you better sto-” Your back met something firm and warm, someone's hands now placed on your forearms, keeping you stable.

“I’m so sor-” turning around to apologise, “-ry. Oh.” Your glance flit over the one recognisable outfit before seeing Eddie's devious face.

“Maybe I’m not,” you give him a tight smile, his puckered brow and long face remained silent. You watched his eyes scan your entire body and lock with the holy grail squished against your chest.

“What are you hiding there?”

“Something that is not your business.”

Dustin and Robin step right beside Eddie, “Why are you so nervous?” Eddie teased.

“I’m not nervous. I-It’s just that-I-Um-It’s-”

Eddie chuckled at your flushed expression, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut up,” you angrily growled.

He pursed his lips, tucking his hands into his back pockets before his doll eyes focused on yours, “I can’t take a little peak?”

“You’re not special, so no.”

Eddie aggressively slammed his back against the locker as both his hands laid on top of his heart, startling you and the others.

“What if you’re special to me, sweetheart?” He playfully breathed out in offence.

Although you knew he was joking, you felt your heart pulsating. Instead of a ‘fuck off’ or a gag, you decided to change it up a bit.

“Then I’m glad.” A smug smile appeared on your face as you crossed your arms, the note still in your grasp— completely forgetting about it.

Robin’s nose scrunched in utter confusion, wondering whether you were sarcastic or not, whilst a small grin crept up on Dustin’s face as he knew which way you meant it. On the other hand, the tiny mischievous smirk on Eddie’s face did not budge at all, instead, he clicked his tongue and chewed on his bottom lip as he leaned one side of his body against the locker and his arms crossed in front, intently staring into your eyes.

You must admit though. He did look really, really hot right now, and he was standing pretty close to you. Although it was difficult to maintain intimidating eye contact with Eddie, you both still mirrored that same conceited smirk on your lips.

Eddie grunted before quietly muttering “Good.”

Now Dustin is confused if Eddie was being sarcastic or not, you were left slightly dumbfounded not knowing what to say. Eddie then reached his arms out to grab Dustin’s shoulders, not breaking the eye contact at all. You felt blood rushing to your ears, but were glad your hair was covering your tomato ears. Eddie then turned Dustin around before his back faced you and walked away. Your eyes followed their figures disappear into the hallway before averting your gaze back to Robin, whose eyes were bulging out of her sockets.

“What was that?” She blurted.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you started to play pretend, “What was what?”

“Y-You and Eddie!”

“Literally nothing.”

“No. That was literally something!” She shrieked as her hands grasped your shoulders, “What if it’s him?”

This time you were genuinely perplexed, clueless to what she’s implying, “If he’s what now?”

She brought you closer to her face, “The secret admirer,” Robin whispered.

The warmth of anxiousness seeped into your heart, muting the chatter of the hallway as your consciousness escaped the world, only surrounding you in feelings of doubt and bewilderment.

“It can’t be, Rob,” You reluctantly uttered.

“And why not? You guys actually had a ‘decent’ conversation, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it was him,” She shrugged as she popped her lips.

“I doubt. I was the one that actually responded ‘decently’,” You replied, pointing to yourself.

Robin remarked with a depressing sigh, “But he did too. And plus on the note, it did say ‘our’ friends so?”

“Look Rob, it was probably in the wrong locker okay?” You beckoned with a faint smile.

You walked into Ms O’Donnell’s class, already spotting Jason and Patrick in the back laughing about something. Their laughter came to a halt as they spotted you. You didn’t really think much of it until you saw a pretty pink peony, saturated with hints of white sitting on your desk.

“For fuck’s sake,” you quietly whispered to yourself, mentally groaning in frustration. This couldn’t be a mistake. You sat in your chair and made an effort to come up with potential culprits. If they know your seat in this class, they either attend this class themselves or have friends who do. You scoured the classroom for anyone behaving suspiciously. Amanda scribbled, Lexi gossiped, and Jason and Patrick were quiet while the rest of the students went about their business. The only thing you were aware of about your hidden admirer was that they were friends with your friends.

“Mr Munson, you’re late.”

Eddie's footsteps filled the now-quiet classroom with sound. You glance up, sceptical, and see Eddie making his way to his seat, directly behind you. He offers a half-arsed apology before staring right into your eyes then at the flower, brows raised in obvious perplexity at the flower. You felt this overwhelming tension submerging your figure as your eyes met, you subconsciously groaned, not only because Eddie was suspected of being the secret admirer, but also because of the recent conversation.

Ms O'Donnell's speech was drowned out by your overanalysing thoughts that couldn't seem to let go of this current predicament. It was the way you didn't realise you were so far into your consciousness that you began seeing doubles of everything. You were highly concerned that you had made things awkward between yourself and Eddie, and what also heightened your concern was the note, and now the flower. Dozing off into wonderland, you came to a conclusion that Eddie is not the sort to do corny crap. You were aware that he would just convey his feelings without seeking an alternate means of doing so.

“A flower?”

You jolted from the booming voice in your ear. Clutching your chest, you turned around to face Eddie.

“Is this a thing within the club? Just scaring people out of nowhere?” You irritably scoffed.

Eddie lowly chuckled, “I think we already scare people without meaning to do so.”

You rolled your eyes before turning back around to face the board. A pint of relaxation encompassed your aura, immensely glad there wasn’t awkward tension between you two, though barely was said amongst you both. You were just overthinking things, like usual.

“You’re pretty.”

Your knee harshly struck the desk, you spun your body around as you choked on your spit.

“W-what?” You stammered, eyes as large as an owl.

Eddie was noticeably alarmed by your jarring action as he leaned back. His brows furrowed as he notices your strained demeanour.

“The flower. It’s pretty,” He slowly spoke out a few seconds later in confusion.

“O-Oh. Ye-”

“Y/N! Focus,” O’Donnell’s voice intervened. You mutter an apology, turning back around and sinking in your seat as the legs of embarrassment crawl up your crumbling figure. Mentally slapping yourself, as the intrusive thoughts were the ones to blame.

It’s me again.

Did you like the rose yesterday? It’s pretty and reminded me of you.

Ew. This person is cheesy and clearly doesn’t know the difference between flowers. It was a peony, not a rose, dumbass. However, the word 'pretty' stood out to you a lot, ever since class yesterday.

You relive the situation in your memory and instantly try to conjure up images of sunshine and rainbows to conceal and bury the humiliating moment you hoped Eddie had forgotten. Wait. Eddie described the flower as pretty too.

“Fuck,” You quietly muttered to yourself. All the foul words imaginable in your thesaurus were spewed out in your thoughts. That’s just how ALL guys describe flowers right?

“Right.” You reassured yourself and your mentality, knowing that wasn’t going to last long.

The graceful sound of Freddie Mercury’s voice suffocated the dissonant babbling of the students in the hallway. As you stride past them on your way to math, your eyes were quick to decipher the Hellfire club amongst the crowd. Dustin’s thinking cap bounced every time he spoke with passion about something whilst Mike matched Dustin’s energy and Eddie and the rest looked unamused by the situation he was in. Mike spotted you as you walked past them. You hear his voice faintly call your name behind the music dancing in your ears. Heavily sighing, you pause your walkman and take your headphones off.

“Yes?”

You were friends with all the members of the club, you’ve talked to Gareth and Jeff before so there was no awkward tension. You glanced at Eddie who was already looking at you. Quickly looking back at Mike, you stood between Eddie and Gareth as you faced the younger ones.

“Can you convince Eddie to come with us tomorrow to StarCourt?” Mike eagerly asked, wanting you to make snide remarks about his miserable life so he could come— which you didn’t catch on to. Though tomorrow Steve made plans with the group to eat at his favourite place at the mall.

You frowned, looking at Eddie, “Wait, you’re not coming?” You questioned, resulting in Mike’s face to twist in puzzlement.

“Nope,” He responded, popping the ‘p’.

“And why is that?”

Eddie tilted his head as he looked at you with a suspicious smirk, ”Do you want me to come, sweetheart?”

The realisation washed over you as you finally noticed that you were acting too nice, you quickly sighed to reclaim yourself, “No. But I do think it’s a good idea to eat some real food— not saying you have to come with us though, but instead of that artificial shit that you’ve been eating out of a can and that’s been sitting in your cupboard for god knows how long,” you quickly breathe out before continuing, “I do wonder how your stomach endures that shit on a daily basis— plus Harrington’s got the bill anyways.”

You concluded it on a positive note to avoid coming across as too nasty and to give him additional incentive to attend. Which you really but secretly wanted. Pursing your lips, he remained silent as his eyes now wandered the floor.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll come.”

“Wait, really?” Mike croaked with hope in his voice as a smile started to creep up on his face.

“Did you not hear how much Y/N wants me to go?” Eddie playfully chuckled out, looking at your now-dumbfounded face.

“I-I do not,” You quickly remarked, a wave of embarrassment visibly sprouting through your pink cheeks.

“Mhm. Totally,” He snorted, noticing the change in your demeanour. He then leaned his back against the locker, looking down at your furious expression. You huffed fiercely, your eyes wide with awkwardness, you rolled your eyes and walked away to class, flipping him off.

“You are so into her,” Dustin sarcastically commented as you walked away, watching your figure blend into the crowd.

“Is that a bad thing?” Eddie revealed.

They let out a chorus of gasps as they look at Eddie with the most baffled yet astonished manner, which likely caused their souls to depart their bodies. All eyes are on him like red lasers, yearning for answers.

“What?!” Mike loudly exclaimed as his hands ruffle through his hair in disbelief.

Eddie casually shrugged his shoulders, enjoying the appalled sight of the boys. Even though it appeared that he didn't care to reveal his feelings, he realised that he had to do so before it eventually devoured him. The group fell into a deafening stillness as the unexpected confession left them all stunned. Eddie silently laughed to himself.

“Oh yeah— Wheeler, for the sake of your sister’s ego, her theory stands correct,” Eddie proclaimed before walking away, still laughing as he watched their jaws hit the floor once more.

Hey,

I heard you did really well in Ms O’Donnell’s class. She was really happy that you got the top mark on the essay. I’m really proud of you <3

“Whoa, they left a heart?” Robin squealed as she nudged your arm.

“Yeah, I guess. But that means that this person is probably with me in O’Donnell’s,” you sighed, “I mean, who in my class would go tell their friends that I did well? I’m not popular at all.”

“Well, that gives us a better chance of finding out who it is though.”

You finally shut your locker and face Robin, “But don’t the notes seem so awkward? like they don’t know what to say? If you were to like someone, wouldn’t you have a lot of things to say to them?”

After just three days, you were sick of the whole ‘secret admirer’ nonsense. It had been distracting you far too much recently, and you had more exams coming up soon. Although you were flattered by these letters, you realised that without any indications to whoever this was soon, it would leave you in chaos.

“But not everyone’s the same Y/N.” Robin lifted her brows as she playfully poked your arm.

You all strolled through StarCourt as you followed Steve. What was expected to be a five-minute walk from the car to the restaurant was about to become a thirty-minute walk as the sensory overload of innovative ads and shop decorations captured almost everyone’s utmost attention.

“This is so cute,” Robin bubbled as she picked up a bright sunflower, tucking it behind her ear before posing.

Halting in front of the florist, the strong fruity yet spicy smell invaded your nostrils as you all admired the abundant selection of vibrant bouquets. Your eyes were overwhelmed by the dazzling and never-ending colour combinations that invaded your field of vision.

“I want to give this one to Suzy.” Dustin gently picked out a rich salmon-pink flower, twisting it between his fingers to observe the white hue that inked through the petals.

You stood next to Dustin, “It’s beautiful,” you trailed, admiring the fine details.

“That rose is going to die by the time you give it to her,” Eddie commented, pointing at Dustin with a lavender tulip between his fingertips.

Dustin snorted, “I could always dry and preserve them,” he stated in an obvious tone, “And it’s a peony, not a rose.”

Your mouth moved upwards, about to giggle. It’s a peony, not a rose. Your smile quickly plunged as a quiet gasp fled from your lips. It can’t be. You casted a glance between Eddie and Dustin, who seem oblivious to your reaction.

Eddie rolled his eyes with a smile, “Same thing, different name.”

“See? Isn’t this the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life?” Steve proudly declared with food in his mouth.

Everyone hummed in response as they all stuffed the pizza right into their mouths, savouring every moment and bite.

“How did you even find this place?” Mike asked as he grabbed another slice of pepperoni.

Steve leaned back into his chair, “This hot chick took me here once.”

“And what happened to her?” Lucas curiously questioned.

Steve popped his lips before he propped his elbows on the table, “Let's not talk about it,” He concluded, pursing his lips.

The group continued to break out into smaller conversations amongst themselves. However, you were left daydreaming on your own after that florist incident, leaving you in pure shock and disbelief. It couldn’t be more obvious and it’s only been three days, which meant that he purely sucked at this. You obviously weren’t going to tell him you found out, but you decided to see how far he would take this scheme.

“Y/N?” Dustin softly elbowed you.

You hummed back, facing to your left as you sat between Dustin and Robin with Eddie in front of you.

“You okay?” He quietly whispered, his eyes filled with concern.

Quietly nodding your head, you excused yourself to the bathroom in hopes of clearing your mind. It was stressing you out because you just found out that your crush is your secret admirer and that you couldn’t tell anyone. You knew you could tell Robin but you didn’t want her to go tell Steve and then Nancy then eventually the whole group. After a few minutes to yourself in the bathroom, you headed back out. Robin was in a deep conversation with Nancy, leaving you with the boys to talk to.

“You’re right Y/N, this is way better than that canned shit,” Eddie teased as he patted his stomach.

A tight-lipped smile crept up, “Ha. Yeah,” You dryly responded, still feeling awkward about the situation. Eddie noticed the odd behaviour. Your eyes were hyper-fixated on the table as you slowly nibbled on the pizza. He quickly glanced at the others, noticing them lost in conversations.

“U-Um do you want to come with me to grab something in the van?” He softly asked.

You looked around at the other boys and saw them chatting amongst themselves; you swallowed your dread and tentatively nodded your head.

“So what did you need in the van?” You awkwardly queried, breaking the silence as you both walked in the cold breeze.

“Nothing.”

You shot him a quizzical look, “What? I thou-”

“I just noticed that you seemed off and wanted to ask if you were okay.”

Your brows unknitted, feeling heat rising in your body loosening your joints. As adrenaline pumped through your figure, the swelling of your heart restrained the volume of your breaths. Eddie stopped in his tracks as you reached the van, his big brown eyes staring at you with genuine concern.

“U-um. I’m fine. It’s just that there’s a lot going on y-you know in life,” You managed to stutter out.

He nodded his head in response, trying to hide the fluttery feeling in his stomach, “Well if you need anything or even someone to talk to, I-I’m here,” Eddie empathised as he scratched the back of his neck, gazing his eyes elsewhere.

“Thank you Eddie.” You bit your lip to hide your developing smile.

His mouth stammered open for a few seconds, “Y-Yeah. No problem,” He clicked his tongue trying to cover up his sudden nervousness. You both stood in heavy silence, scared that he could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“I-I really mean it though,” Eddie interrupted, “Like I know we argue a lot, but we don’t always have to. And plus, I feel like recently we’ve been— better? If that’s a good way to say it. We just haven’t been up each other’s asses lately in a way. I don’t know if it’s just me or somethi-”

“Eds— I’ve noticed it too okay?” You politely cut his rambling as you giggled at his flushed expression.

“You have?”

You pursed your lips as you nod, “Yeah. It feels better this way— though I miss teasing you.”

He let out a low snicker, “Oh really?” A sneaky smirk erupted, “We could always go back to arguing with each other.”

You slightly pushed him, releasing a series of chuckles, “No thanks, I’ve plucked out enough grey hairs already.”

As the week passed by and almost the next, more letters began to pile up, and more meaningful encounters with Eddie continued. However, it was still only Robin that was aware of this secret admirer you had under your sleeve, but she had no idea you found out who it was. It was only a question of continuously suppressing the fact that you hadn't figured it out yet.

Since the little occurrence at StarCourt last week, it has become apparent that Eddie is the secret admirer— though he hasn’t admitted it yet— which is also a reason why more heartfelt conversations occurred with him because you insisted on them.

The group had noticed that there was almost no squabbling between you both, and that genuine exchanges were being passed as you both began to get to know one other even more. Mike was aware that Eddie had feelings for you, but Dustin knew that you both returned those sentiments, while the rest of the gang had their theories.

Despite the fact that neither of you acknowledged the reality of you both no longer bickering with each other, you were both thrilled that the phase is over. Though you or Eddie would make snarky remarks here and there, you both joked it off, and sometimes there would even be flirtatious ones, which would leave you in a bright red mess.

4pm. Today. After school.

Meet me in the gymnasium. Be on time.

Your heart started to pound as hard as it possibly could. Is he finally revealing himself? Did he plan something for me? Is the group part of the plan?

Your eyes tightly clenched in pure excitement and worry, not knowing what to expect. The last few days have been incredible. Though the hints and clues were a little messed up, you still figured it out.

Robin skipped school today, leaving you alone with Nancy and Steve, but you didn't mind. That also meant that there'd be no one to bother you at your locker as you waited for another note.

But tonight, everyone was coming over to your place after school for a sleepover. You’ve already set up the living room, movies, beverages, and snacks before you slept last night. It had been a while since a group sleepover so everyone was excited about it.

Whilst you were absorbed in your own tranquilly, you noticed Dustin at the end of the corridor with a panicked expression on his face, his attention eventually fell onto you as he ran towards you in haste.

“You need to come now!” Dustin urgently exclaimed as he forcefully pulled you. Everyone's attention was drawn to you and Dustin as his troubled eagerness rang down the hallway.

Eventually, he dragged you into the room where D&D sessions are held. Instead of bright spotlights painting the ancient, wooden floors in neon colours, you were welcomed with darkness and a warm-toned light barely illuminating the space. It was so dark you stumbled on the leg of the chair right in front of you.

“What is it Dustin?” Your frantic voice reverberated against the cold walls of the room as your figures were engulfed in utter darkness. You watch as his petrified gaze turn sinister.

Your brows slowly furrowed, “Dustin? Wha-”

A loud horn erupted right into your ear, causing you to scream at the top of your lungs. In an instant, you covered your ears and crouched down into a ball. The horn ceased booming, and your screams were drowned out by laughter and knee slaps. Standing up and uncovering your ears, you turn around and find Eddie, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin roaring with laughter. Eddie was loudly slapping his knee in enjoyment, as he witnessed your spirit depart from your body. You huffed and rolled your eyes, clamping your jaw in pure anguish.

Eddie slowly walked over to you with a blow horn in one hand, still laughing before he slung his arm over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “April fools, sweetheart.”

You lightly shoved him and tried to conceal the frown erupting into a smile, however you couldn’t help it as the boys' happiness encircling you made your heart ease, even if they designated you as their victim. You’re lucky that the darkness masked the pink mess on your face, you hid your face behind your hands as Eddie brought you in an embrace.

“I never knew you could scream like that,” Lucas giggled out.

You playfully punched Lucas’ bicep, “To be honest I never knew I could too. You boys just have something in you.”

“So you’re telling me I could make you scream like that?” Eddie insisted with a mischievous tone.

Escaping from his embrace, the boys immediately covered their ears, loudly whining in discontent, shouting words along the lines of ‘Gross’, ‘Yuck’, and gags over the top of each other.

You scrunched your nose in disbelief, “Ew Eds. You’re disgusting.”

Today felt like the longest day ever. You swore the clock was ticking slower than usual. The one-hour lessons felt like two. The forty-minute lunch felt like eighty. And the last period felt like the whole day. That was until the clock finally reached 3pm. You dashed out of that last class. With only an hour spare, you shoved all your textbooks into your locker and grabbed your spare makeup bag. You were relieved that you set everything up for the sleepover last night. It was a sign. You thought.

You sprinted to the restroom and touched up your makeup in the last hour. Re-applied mascara. More blush. More bronzer, then more lipstick. This has been the moment you’ve been waiting for. You couldn’t wait to toss your arms around his neck and finally admit the feelings that have been gnawing at your heart. Because the thrill made your heart flutter, you took a deep breath and expelled all of your troubles, worries, and pessimistic thoughts. Though a pinch of them lingered within you, you felt more pleased as the tightness in your joints eased.

Placing your lipstick back in the bag, you glanced at your watch. It’s only been ten fucking minutes. You toss your head back in irritation, wondering what to do. Observing your hair and outfit in the mirror, you lightly wet your hands and slick the fly-aways at your hairline. You opted to waste your time by doing homework in a random classroom near the gymnasium because there was nothing else you could do.

Finally.

You stood right in front of the gymnasium doors, ready to meet Eddie. You fixed your hair and patted your top straight. You chewed on your lips as you intently watch the seconds tick by.

3:59:45

3:59:50

3:59:55

4:00:00

You took a deep breath. Inhaling in. Exhaling out. Widely opening the door, you were met with—nothing. Despite the fact that you were unsure of what to anticipate, you certainly did not expect to find the gym deserted, the lights out, and the only source of light was coming from the sun rays illuminating through the window. Maybe he’s doing something different.

The sound of your footsteps echoed through the hall as you slowly walked towards the middle of the gymnasium. Standing in the centre, you began to glance about to see if anyone was hiding or if there was any indication of life. The excitement still lingered within your heart, not doubting Eddie at all. 4:02:39. He’s probably just late, typical Eddie. You bit your lips, staring at the two doors of the gymnasium, hoping to see a curly, long-haired silhouette appear.

4:05:27. After a while of standing, you decided to go to the stands and sit down. You still had high expectations for Eddie's arrival; the idea of him standing you up hadn't even crossed your mind. Eddie was frequently 20-30 minutes late for social occasions. But you could wait; you had plenty of time before the sleepover. It was simply a ten-minute journey from your place to school. There’s plenty of time, you reasoned.

Time continued to tick by, as you soaked in silence. The coolness of the gymnasium enveloped your form, but your enthusiasm kept you warm as your leg bounced quickly. Though dread has not triumphed over your eagerness, the overthinking gremlin in the back of your mind has quietly begun to scratch at your thoughts slowly making it's way to your heart. He wouldn’t leave me waiting this long. Would he?

4:14:52. He should be here in another fifteen minutes— max. You were thinking of doing more homework to waste time but what if it ruins the surprise? How? I don’t know. Maybe it’ll ruin the excitement? Now that you realise it, you were definitely overthinking this. As you still waited, it seemed as though the dust particles in the air just kept accumulating on you. Eddie is special to you that even if you were eventually a pile of dust, you would still wait for him. Though you couldn't stay here forever since you still had the sleepover to host, you would wait for him until the very last minute, second, and millisecond.

4:22:22. The latest you were willing to leave was 4:40pm. Loneliness and restlessness began to erode your sanity. Uncertainty started to twist your mind while irritation slightly bubbled beneath you, ready to explode. Your butt felt sore after a while, and after constantly shifting in your seat, you were sure layers of dust were adhering to your jeans. You still had to shower and change for the sleepover. Plus a ten-minute drive. Although your hair might still be wet when they arrive, you didn’t mind, it was all for Eddie.

A few more minutes started to pass by, then four minutes, six minutes and then sixteen minutes. 4:38:20. No signs of him, despite the extra thirty minutes you granted him. The exhilaration dissipated as anguish overwhelmed your heart. The last time you felt this familiar resentment was before the hidden admirer scheme. You were late, exhausted, and yet had plans.

I’m over it. You seized your belongings and stormed out the door, completely outraged. The doors of the gymnasium slammed against the brick wall as you obnoxiously forced them open. As you made your way out of the building through the corridor, you could hear the sounds of the jocks emanating from the parking lot. When you arrived at the parking lot, a familiar van was still parked in its accustomed spot. What could he possibly be doing for forty minutes?

That was until you heard Eddie's voice intermingled with the jocks' voices. Your head perked up as your gaze was drawn to the building's corner.

“Lowest I can do is thirty-five.”

The sound of Jason’s arrogant whine is heard, “C’mon Munson. I know you can do twenty-five for that.”

Of course. A fucking drug deal. Although you respected his little business and you never got in the way of it, you were already tired and very, very irritated. With Jason and his jocks in front of Eddie and his back to you, you made a brisk approach to the group.

Jason's eyes met your enraged ones and he smirked broadly. "Munson, a little someone's here for you," he added. You noticed the rest of the jocks trying to refrain from laughing. However, after a moment of bewilderment, Eddie's head turned around and finally it was realised you. His gaze softened but remained cautious since he was in the middle of a deal, clearly oblivious to your infuriating temper which angered you even more.

“Oh h-hey Y/N-Um-l’ll be over at yours after th-”

“I’ve been waiting in the gymnasium for you—since four!” You angrily exclaimed right in front of everyone.

Eddie shifted his whole body to face you, confusion striking every part of his body, unable to grasp what you’re trying to say.

“I-I’m sorry?” He asked warily, now noticing your furious demeanour. You scoffed, sheer rage boiling in your tone, spiteful enough to block out the jocks' snickering in your ears.

“You told me to meet you at the gymnasium at four! Remember the note?”

“Note?” Eddie’s eyes rapidly glanced between you and Jason still unaware, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking ab-”

“I know it’s you, Eddie! Stop lying! T-the notes, the flowers a-and the fucking-e-everything! I-t’s you!” You almost shout at him, tears already welled up in your eyes as you hold back the excruciating lump in your throat. He advanced a step towards you, hands outstretched, ready to embrace you, but you back away from him to resist his touch.

Your face is flushed, tears ached in your eyes, confident that he's acting clueless because he's in the presence of the jocks.

“Don’t fuck with me, Eddie. Don’t act like you weren’t secretly passing all these corny notes and flowers to me for this past week.”

Eddie remained silent. Genuinely stumped by the entire ordeal. He watched your figure start to shatter apart as sorrow began to creep into his consciousness. Your fingers and lips trembled as a few tears trickled down your cheek. You glanced at the ground, now doubting if it really was Eddie. How could it not be Eddie? It’s him. Eddie peered over at the jocks who are cackling to themselves and then turned to face you. He couldn't care less about them; his top focus right now is you.

“L-look I-I’m sorry b-but-I,” Eddie stuttered out words to form a sentence but couldn’t, not when you were already so hurt by something he didn’t do.

“Was this all real?” you huffed out through tears.

“W-what was what?”

“This,” you point your finger between his figure and yours, “Was it all fake? When we hated each other's guts, d-did you really hate me? Did you do this to get some sort of revenge?” Within the span of your remark, you shed a torrent of tears, which were now gushing continuously past your cheeks and onto your shirt. You were well aware that you seemed dishevelled. Tear tracks likely surfaced on your cheeks from the mascara seeping down with your tears.

He opened his mouth to say something but you continued, “Did you pretend we were okay and acted like you were secretly in love with me this past week so you could watch me fall apart because you hate me so much?”

This sudden pressure in Eddie's lungs prevented him from breathing correctly. There was nothing he did. Nothing. Although he was confused by the entire circumstance, he was not confused by the fact that he loves you. And now that you're wondering if it's all fake, incited additional rage and perplexity.

“Awe.” A voice interrupted. When you glance up, you find Jason cynically pouting and flashing his best puppy eyes at you and Eddie.

Eddie clenched his jaw, “Jason fuck off. I’m calling off the deal.”

Jason’s brows furrowed, “Calling off the deal? I thought you needed money for that old man and that shitty van of yours that probably reeks of weed and your own filth.”

Eddie shoved Jason to the ground. He was already on edge, and Jason was exacerbating the situation. You silently gasped and jumped back in panic as Patrick took Eddie by the collar of his shirt.

Jason promptly redeemed himself, swiftly standing on his feet and patting away the residual dirt on his pants and jacket before snatching Eddie from Patrick. The lump at the back of Eddie's throat kept him silent as Jason sneered sinisterly between you and his friends.

“You deserve this Munson. You deserve to live in hell,” Jason muttered. Eddie loudly grunted, trying to break free from Jason’s grip. Instead, his grasp tightened as he began to chuckle, becoming increasingly louder and menacing.

“Oh, this is funny. We did a good job boys. Didn’t we?” Jason asked as he looked over at his friends with a bitter smile. They exchanged broad grins as they fist-bumped one other. You stood there now being the oblivious one, confused as to why they were celebrating, but assumed it had something to do with Eddie. It was now his turn to shove Eddie to the ground, causing him to wince in pain.

A loud sigh escaped Jason’s mouth as he faced you, showing a modest tight-lipped smile. “By the way-” his tongue rolled over his lips, “-I’m truly sorry for the mistake.”

“What?” Your brows dipped in complete confusion.

“Blame Patrick— It was a peony, not a rose.”

You felt your soul being drained out of you as your face slumped. It seemed as if the world had come to a halt for a brief minute. Sudden heat surged to your cheeks as your fingers tightened on the hem of your shirt, ripping it. The uneasiness in your heart was replaced with frenzy, overwhelming the capacity your emotions can take. A malicious smirk emerged as he witnessed the dread on your face abruptly morph into vengeance.

“Happy April fools, ‘sweetheart’.” His tone overflowed with satisfaction and pride, thrilled with what he had accomplished.

As the boys praised him, he spun away on his heels, a triumphant smile on his face. Once more, you felt a prickling sensation in your vision. Guilt started to torment your mind as Eddie hesitantly rose to his feet.

“You fucking asshole!” You screamed, legs now running towards Jason as anger controlled your body. However, you were grabbed tightly by the waist, stopping you from reaching Jason. You aggressively flailed your arms and kicked your legs as hard as you could to get out of the grasp.

‘L-Let g-go! Let go!” You shrieked through sobs. You watch Jason and his friends cracking up. Some mock you by flailing their hands. Some mock Eddie by imitating his horns.

“H-hey-hey-Y/N-p-please,” Eddie desperately begged. Your hits became weaker and slower under Eddie’s grasp. You start to slip down to your knees, hands covering your face in embarrassment, guilt and resentment.

Hiding behind your hands provided you with the fragment of comfort in the knowledge that you felt like no one could see you and you could see no one. In ways you've never experienced, your heart began to ache in the most agonising depths imaginable. You didn't want to confront Eddie at all. You wished you could simply go back in time to when you both were frequently arguing. Embarrassment poured over you as you wept on the ground, not realising you were in Eddie's grasp.

Unaware of how much time has gone while you've been cloaked in the dark by your hands, you cautiously raised your head and noticed the sun beginning to fade behind dwellings. Eddie felt your chin settle on his shoulder and gave you a comforting stroke on the back. Although he was unaware of this prank, he felt awful for not discovering sooner.

“I’m sorry.”

Humiliation chewed up the remainder of your swelling anger leaving you in a pit of remorse. You gulped after Eddie’s voice pierced the silence.

“No. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“But you didn’t know that they were doing this to you,” Eddie agonised as he heaved almost tiredly, feeling his chest rising and falling with every breath he took.

“Well you didn’t know either.”

Eddie remained quiet while you both sat in each other’s presence. His arms are now around your waist, and yours around his neck with the night wind growing colder, allowing the numbness in your heart to intensify.

“I-I’m just so sorry for putting the blame on you. I-I’m sorry for thinking your ‘friendly’ actions meant something more. I just thought it was because of the notes and stuff,” you trailed off quietly as the whispers of the breeze drifted by your ears, allowing a few seconds of stillness to pass.

Eddie pursed his lips, resting his chin on top of your head, “I mean, what if I truly meant for it to be something more in the first place?”

You leaned back from his touch, his exhausted and gloomy eyes gazing at yours.

“What do you mean?”

Eddie noticed the insecurity in your eyes as your eyes flinched in confusion, “Princess, I’ve been wanting more ever since we had our first argument. I just knew you were different than the others, but I genuinely thought you ‘hated’ me-” He used his fingers as quote marks to recall that stage, “-but that one time where you didn’t make a mean comment like you would, I-I thought there was a chance for us to change.” He cupped your cheek and stared into your weary eyes, “A-And it did. I was over the moon when we had our first- I don’t know, our first respectfulish conversation.” You tenderly smiled, leaning into his touch. Eddie shifted his attention elsewhere, nibbling on his lower lip while his cheeks turned scarlet. The moment you let out a small chuckle, his eyes locked with yours once again, but this time, you could feel the honesty and grief in his eyes.

“I just hope that this whole prank thing didn’t change your feelings towards me,” Eddie quietly voiced.

You shook your head, “Well now knowing that you actually like me, it has changed a bit.”

His face twisted and plummeted with confusion and fear, leaving him dumbfounded. As you watched him experience the stages of grief in two seconds, you could not contain the bubbles of laughter that shortly erupted.

“Not in a bad way, stupid, it just made me fall harder for you even more.”

Eddie sarcastically placed his hands above his heart, rolling his eyes as he deeply exhaled a large breath, “Oh I am flattered by your cheesiness.” You playfully slapped his arm, “But seriously, I was genuinely worried for a second,” he chuckled before he brought you into his warm embrace. In an instant, the worry and stress that had been haunting you were swiftly washed away by his touch and were replaced with serenity and tenderness.

“I wonder how the others will react to this,” you quietly whispered against his shoulder.

“This?”

“Us.” Your head rose to greet Eddie's, merely inches apart. His gaze is drawn between your eyes and lips.

He slightly shrugged, “I don’t know about the others, but I know Dustin is going to be thrilled.”

You let out a few stifled giggles as you envisioned Dustin bouncing with excitement when you reveal the information. As you peered over Eddie's shoulder, the moon was gently rising to reveal its splendour whilst the streetlights cast their glory. For some reason, something felt odd, it was as if your brain was screaming, trying to alert you.

“Eddie, how long have we been sitting here?”

“Uh-I don’t know,” He flicked his wrist to view his watch, “It’s 5:40— if that makes it any better.”

5:40? You thought hard in your head about what you possibly forgot. Textbooks in your locker? No. Assignment due tomorrow? No. Going to Robin’s house? No. Sleepover? N-Yes.

“Fuck!” You loudly exclaimed, startling Eddie as you scrambled to stand up straight.

“What? What?” His eyes widened in fear, baffled by your troubled state.

“T-the sleepover!”

“Oh shit.”

#eddie munson imagines #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine

5K notes · View notes

deandoesthingstome · 6 months

Text

Medieval Fantasy

Pairing: Witcher!Geralt x Reader

Summary: The offerings at this hotel, I swear.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving, 69), p in v (cowgirl, missionary), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: I suppose, strictly speaking we're not fucking the monster, but he's still a treat, so enjoy!

A/N 2: (Edited) I do owe @augustsprincess a little thank your for an idea; I played it out during the group chat here, but I probably wouldn't have included it at all if not for you, so *smooches*

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

Mike ordered a pizza from room service for the last hour of your reservation with him once he flipped the time switch. You sat cross-legged on the couch with him, munching happily while he narrated the ridiculousness of the rest of the scenes to your scary movie, making you giggle where you’d normally be hiding behind a blanket. You’d remember this night fondly for a long time. Mike’s easy going way had put you completely at ease once he noticed you were a little hung up on Walt.

He unfortunately didn’t know anything about how to get a hold of your missing object of desire.

You set the scene for the story pretty much as it was, but added more spook and gore, opting to split up the experience into two nights. One with live Mike, just barely slipping out the window before the parents came home from their Halloween night costume parties, only to be killed by the tow truck driver who showed up when his car, parked around the corner from the house, wouldn’t start. He was hung on the hook that should have hoisted his beater onto the truck. And one a few weeks later, when the heavy drag of the chains and hook across the attic floor led the heroine to investigate, only to be taken swiftly and with no mercy by her incorporeal boyfriend. Not rough, just urgent, insistent, longing for some other connection that would allow him to leave the vicinity of his undoing. If he could have taken her outside on the sidewalk without prying neighbor eyes, he probably would have.

You put the notice up after you posted. The next would be your last regular monster fucking post. You were taking a hiatus to work on your first novel.

sendmeanangel: and then Walter burst through the window, all wolfed out darkgothnightengale: while they were both fucking you??? sendmeanangel: yeah, and i can only think my subconscious was trying to not kill me when it chose August and Mike for that experience. I can’t imagine having anything else inside me while getting fucked by the Bull MNstrluvr: i would kill for a dream like that darkgothnightengale: well, did he take you away? sendmeanangel: i woke up!!! darkgothnightengale: and still no luck finding him? sendmeanangel: no. i found a guy who seemed like him, but he’s in Minnesota. Or was. It’s like his online presence is either non-existent or ended abruptly at least ten years ago MNstrluvr: another ghost lol! sendmeanangel: very funny. Mike was a lot of fun anyway. I needed that darkgothnightengale: and you’re still going back? sendmeanangel: i’ve never heard of a witcher. He just showed up on the site the other week and i bet he’s softer than he looks. I booked him at the same time i booked Mike, so it’s already scheduled and i could do with one more amazing adventure before i give it all up darkgothnightengale: i still don’t understand why. If you don’t have walter, what’s the harm? sendmeanangel: there’s no harm. Obviously i’m free to do what i want. But i think about him all the time. And i just think maybe it’s time for a break MNstrluvr: when you find him you should see if he’s up for booking a room with you so you can recreate that dream sendmeanangel: oh my goddddd!

“We certainly hope you haven’t been displeased with your experiences here,” the desk clerk asked gently.

“What? No! Everything’s been wonderful. Why do you ask?” you inquired, at a loss for what may have precipitated the comment.

“We noticed you hadn’t made another future booking yet.”

“Oh, that,” you stammered. ”I just…no, everything’s fine.” You fingered the edges of the card stock bearing the elevator code to get you to L2 and tightened your grip on your bag reflexively. Just a trick you used to bring you back to steady.

“Well, please. If there’s anything at all we can do for you…” You smiled and cast your eyes down so as not to betray your true feelings, but glanced up quickly to try to judge the meaning behind the next statement made with a hint of weightiness. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you offered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The elevator opened to a small wooden hut, a place for your belongings and coat, a small wash basin filled with still steaming water and fragrant scents set on a wooden stand. You disrobed, dipped a washcloth in the water, and bathed yourself with the enchanting smells, then grabbed a linen towel to dry off before climbing into the outfit you’d selected for the fantasy. You slipped the silver dagger into the holster you’d strapped to your thigh and dropped your heavy skirt down over it before wrapping the cloak around your shoulders.

You had no idea what you were walking out into, only that if things got too hairy, as they absolutely could, he’d be there to save you. There to comfort you.

You stepped out onto a wooded path leading to a trail along a marshy bog, mostly full moon shining in the sky above you. You were never going to get over the mechanics of this hotel that made it seem like you were in at least five distinctly different places, some of which were outside, while still housed in the same building. But you were solidly on the side of possibility. Monsters were real. Magic was real. This hotel was real.

You carried a small basket of goods, as if headed to a market or maybe home from one. The path ahead of you seemed less than ideal and you began to wonder if you’d made a wrong turn. The churning and bubbling of the bog was lost on you as you looked around for another path that might lead to more solid ground, grateful for the light of the moon since a flashlight app was absolutely not happening, as your phone was left back in the hut.

Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded from the liquid and a large figure began to emerge, long twig-like legs reaching into the space above it as if searching for something. You dropped your basket and ran as soon as it became obvious the thing it was searching for was you. A moment’s respite allowed you to reach under your skirt and grab the dagger before you resumed fleeing away from the monster but suddenly a creepy crawly leg swept around you and it was all you could do to jump out of the way.

You stumbled when you hit the ground, but landed on your back, which meant you could stab up at whatever was coming at you and you did. The blade wasn’t long enough to do full damage, but some gore dripped down your arm as you registered a little casualty point and you pulled back and stabbed again as quick as you could, completely unconcerned with whatever came oozing out. It had to be better than being dead, you thought.

You heard another roar and the distinct slice of a finely crafted blade through the air and the legs that had you trapped were suddenly no longer attached to the larger body that was stalking you. It gave you time to move, scramble out of the way and find a spot to regroup. From behind the boulder you saw him. Leather clad, silver hair flowing, steel blade drawn and hacking through more limbs. As he spun for another attack, you glimpsed his dark eyes and shimmery, pale skin.

It was maybe not the time, but his ass looked great too.

“Little help,” the strained call came, as he flipped the beast over, tackling what you took to be the lower extremities. A smooth patch on the chest seemed like it was made for stabbing so you climbed onto the rock and jumped, landing right on top of the beast with your tiny blade finding a home in the furry goo.

One final, ear-splitting shriek and the deed was done. Your compadre stood and held out a hand to help you up and off the steadily shrinking body of the buggy creature you’d just slayed. You felt your feet touch solid ground as you looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before you.

“Alright?” he asked. “I think you got ‘im, but we should head out in case there are more. I don’t think tonight is the right time for this. We’ll come back tomorrow and finish the job.”

“What job?”

“Okay, sure. This wasn’t why you were walking alone late at night in a Krak infested bog? Are you telling me you weren’t hired to clear the area?”

“No?” you answered, unsure what the words coming out of his mouth meant. Was this what a witcher did?

“Were you hired for anything?”

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” You had to find a way to talk to this man coherently. You remembered your basket. “I was just walking back to town from a market. I think I got a little lost.”

“I think you got a lot lost. Can I help you find your way back? I’m Geralt.” His black eyes were ringed with dark circles, but in the moonlight, those looked like they were fading slowly.

You offered your name and a hand, which he shook, and you felt a line of heat rush straight through your arm, down your chest, and into your core. You gasped as the last of the shadows over his face and eyes dissipated, leaving you staring into amber eyes full of flame. The memory of lights piercing the shadows the other night flooded your brain. What if that wasn’t Walter, as you suspected? But no; the howling.

Geralt helped you locate your discarded basket, into which you stuffed your goo-covered corset and cape, eager to be free from the stench and hoping desperately that dry cleaning would do the trick when you were home. You mounted his horse, Roach, with his assistance and he led you into town. He made a beeline straight for an inn, dropping you off at the entrance with instructions to ask about lodging while he found boarding for his horse for the night.

“Oi! You’re late!” an oversized brute behind the bar exclaimed in your direction as you entered the tavern and you froze, unsure what part of the fantasy this could be. “Have ya lost control of yer legs suddenly? Bring the goods here. Now!”

You looked down at the basket with a realization that was confirmed by another shout.

“Yes. That. The basket. Now!”

You were about to begin the trek across the wooden floor to hand off your basket to the foul looking man, when a pair of comforting hands came to rest on your upper arms, holding you firmly in place.

“I think you have the wrong merchant. This basket of goods is mine,” Geralt’s deep and soothing voice growled. “And we require rooms for the night.”

Rooms? Was this not happening?

“Almost full tonight, Witcher. Only one room left.” You stifled a snort at the cliche of it all.

“We’ll take it. And I’d venture to say you’ll want to provide a meal and round on the house. At least one of your swamp monsters is already dead thanks to this one.” Geralt stepped you into the tavern and over to the bar where a key dangled from the innkeeper's hand.

“She took out a Krak?”

“Practically single-handedly.” There was something like pride in Geralt’s voice, and maybe a little admiration, though you definitely didn't handle that on your own. Still, you grabbed the key with a smirk and turned to find an empty table. Geralt followed once he’d grabbed two tankards of ale, and two plates of stew with bread were set down in front of you after a few moments of awkward silence, during which you took in the clientele. How was the hotel paying all these extras?

“Wolf!” someone called from the entrance and for a moment you thought they’d seen Walter. You looked around, but found nothing other than another sizable man clad in leather and steel making his way to your table.

“Lambert,” Geralt acknowledged him, and introduced you. “What brings you tonight?”

“Just finished up a town over and heard of another job. Looks like you’ve already taken it on. Finished so soon?”

“Hardly started. First kill’s hers anyhow.” Geralt nodded with what appeared to be reverence in your direction.

“Beginner’s luck,” you demurred. “I don’t think a small dagger is going to be of much use with the rest of whatever those were.”

“Looks like I’ll be headed out at first light alone then, to complete the task,” Geralt mumbled, with a comforting look at you before turning attention back to Lambert. “I’d welcome your assistance with this one.”

A barmaid approached to set another tankard of ale in front of your new red-headed table mate and you didn’t miss the way her hand traced over his shoulder and her eyes met his as she walked back toward the counter to continue serving other customers.

“It’s a good thing you’ve found your bed for the night, since we’ve just taken the last one,” Geralt grumbled with a hint of tease.

“Unless you need my assistance with anything else?” Lambert’s tone was clear and they both turned their gazes slowly toward you.

It was a choice. You hadn’t asked for this, but you were being offered an option. Heat filled your cheeks and you cast your eyes down with a sudden shyness. Though two entirely different men, your dream from the other night was somehow presented to you on a platter, and yet…

“I don’t think I’m anything Geralt can’t handle on his own,” you replied, aware this was your call and no one else's.

With the sleeping arrangements out of the way, you spent the next hour or so enjoying stories of training and fighting. If your ears didn’t deceive you, several of their completed jobs seemed to include gratitude delivered by way of sexual favors, sometimes alone, sometimes together. They were cheeky and sly with the language, but the innuendos were there and you couldn��t stop yourself from thinking about it.

You waived off another round of ale and professed you’d much rather find a tub of warm water to sink into for a bit. Geralt agreed and you both said your goodnights to Lambert.

Settled into the room, you were surprised to find there really was a wooden tub full of tepid water. A large cauldron hung over a roaring fire and you watched as Geralt used a rudimentary crane-like contraption to hoist the pot over the tub and dump its boiling contents into the water below.

“It’ll warm the water for a bit, so you should take advantage now, if you were serious.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s room for both of us,” you mentioned with a little sadness.

“We can take turns, just don’t stay in too long,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. “Do you need any help with your garments?”

With your corset already removed, all that remained was to unlace the heavy woolen skirt and lift the flowing linen gown underneath it over your head. Geralt was a huge help nevertheless and your body shivered as you imagined his fingers tracing every inch of you, not just your waist or the lucky bits of leg that received his touch as he bent to grab the hem of your dress.

He held your hand as you stepped into the tub and sat down, knees bent against your chest. How would he ever manage to fit himself in here? you thought. While you swirled the water around you, you watched as he turned away to unbuckle his leathers and disrobe as well. You were right about his ass.

You smiled a little to yourself at how comfortable getting naked with him was and then you smiled wider when he turned to face you once again, approaching you in all his glory and settling down onto a stool next to the tub with a washcloth in his hand.

Geralt offered to help you wash off, then dunked his hand into the water when you accepted. He ran the soft rag along your back, down your arms, across your chest. He took a few moments to run the soaked cloth along his body as well when the water began to cool much faster than you’d hoped, leaving no opportunity for him to sit in the tub himself. When he “dropped” the rag while dipping it back in the water for another pass, he didn’t hesitate to reach deeper into the tub, fingers searching the bottom for the cloth but finding your bottom instead. He leaned forward to complete the kiss you had asked for with a lick of your lips and smiled into your gasp when his fingers made their way between your legs.

“You know,” he started after pulling away from your hungry mouth, “I do feel as if I owe you a bit of gratitude myself.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Geralt?” you gently taunted with a fake bit of naivete.

“You were the hero tonight. You deserve a reward.” He stood from the stool, exposing his hardening length, and helped you to stand.

“And will you be my reward?” you purred, clasping your arms around his neck as he lifted you out of the tub.

“Gladly,” he replied, slipping his hands eagerly down your side body and around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your mouth again with a searing kiss as he walked toward the bed and deposited you on your back, legs splayed wide and waiting for him.

“Maybe you could finish what you started.”

He dove to the bed next to you and cupped your cunt with a rather large hand.

“This is just the beginning,” he promised as he bent two fingers and slipped them inside. He watched your face with intent as he pumped his fingers in and out, teasing more and more slick from deep inside you. He kissed you when he added a third finger, swallowing the moan that ripped from your throat.

You couldn’t control your hips if you wanted to, bucking up into his hand, trying to pull him in deeper, trying to find the grind that would let you explode. His lips on your jawline, his tongue on your neck, kisses on your collarbone before he nuzzled into you and whispered how good you fucking smelled from here already. All these words of praise and touches of desire sent you right over the edge with an urgent need to crawl back up and do it again.

He must have been expecting you to take some time to recover because he was off guard when you pushed at his shoulder and sent him to his back so you could sit up and swing your legs over his. Settled on his thighs with an eye toward his very large erection, you smiled and made clear your intentions.

“I want you, Geralt. All of you.”

“However you’d like,” he grinned back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other reaching to stroke himself.

“Fuuuuuuuhhhck,” you moaned, watching how he handled himself, sure saliva was probably dripping from the side of your mouth. “Kinda like that.”

You scooted back down his legs and leaned forward, eager to let him feed you the cock he was keeping hard for you. As with every other host, it was going to be impossible to take him all the way, but you were going to give your best effort on the parts you could reach. His hand motion shortened as your mouth took over servicing the head and a few inches of length. You let your tongue swirl around the tip and dripped saliva from your mouth to give both of you something to slide over.

Your pussy was still yearning for touch and since you didn’t need your own hands for the blowjob, you let one travel down your body and between your legs to trace along your folds. You rubbed two fingers over your sensitive clit, curling to dip them into your warm, wet opening a few times before returning to focus attention at the nub.

“I can help with that, if you’d like,” Geralt grunted breathlessly, the arm behind his neck reaching now for your body, prodding you to turn. While you continued to lave over Geralt’s prodigious member, you crawled around to find your knees on either side of his head and when you felt his hand smooth over your ass, you didn’t resist the pull.

You moaned around the cock in your throat while Geralt wrapped his lips around your pussy and licked his way into your slit. Eventually, he let go of his dick and wrapped both hands around your thighs, holding you close against his face and lapping in tandem with the bob of your head.

On more than one occasion you found you could not concentrate effectively on the head you were giving, since the head you were receiving was so mind blowing. You found you had to lift your mouth off his cock and beg for more, scream for him to make you come. When he did, you were able to return to pleasuring him, since he didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to move you away. Instead, it was as if he were playing a game called ‘how many times can you come on this tongue.’

It became abundantly clear that you were never going to be able to return the favor. Geralt was not interested in coming down your throat, so when you felt like you couldn’t handle one more tender lick, one more urgent suckle, one more flick of the tip of his tongue on your sensitive pearl, you begged off. Pleaded for mercy.

“I’m not done,” he called from the other end of the bed. “I still owe you my gratitude.”

You peeled yourself reluctantly away from his cock and eased yourself around again, to lay alongside him, chest heaving and thighs shaking.

“I can’t fathom how one Krak deserves more than you’ve already given, but I’ll gladly take it, if only you’ll let me rest a moment.” You draped an arm over his chest and drifted your fingers through the dusting of hair you found.

“Perhaps some water?” he offered, reaching for a cup and the pitcher by the bedside. You shared the cool liquid, quenching one thirst while another still burned hot and needy.

“How long can you last? Surely I’m not that bad at oral.”

His laugh was so bright, it was as if the room was suddenly aglow.

“You are excellent at that. I just have a lot of practice not letting go until I’m sure my partner has reached the absolute peak. It’s a point of pride.”

He wasn’t arrogant about it, just matter of fact. He was here to serve.

“What if we simply waited until you were ready again? Surely that wouldn’t take forever.” You trailed your fingers down his chest, through the patch of hair at his abdomen, and onto his still rock hard length. Feeling how firm he was, letting your hand trace the veins, your thumb nudging the helmet of the head, you couldn’t help but be hungry for him again.

You found yourself straddling his thighs once more, eyeing his cock, begging for him to fuck you now.

“Do they have condoms in this time, wherever we are?” If an ancient Greek labyrinth had condoms, surely this medieval inn had them, too. You were still in the hotel after all. He chuckled and nodded toward the nightstand, where you found a plain wooden box that revealed what you were after when opened.

Geralt made to take the packet from you, but you resisted. “Allow me, please.”

You tore open the package and worked the rubber onto the tip, then rolled the sides down and checked the fit. You let him make a final adjustment, but when he leaned up as if to roll you over, you protested.

“I’m good right here,” you purred, grabbing ahold of his sheathed cock and lifting up to position yourself right above him. You set him at your entrance, still dripping from your several orgasms, and lowered yourself good and slow. You were getting used to the size of these men, but that didn’t mean the start didn’t require some care.

Your eyes closed almost involuntarily once you’d taken him to the hilt and you sat motionless for a moment, feeling your core loosen around him. You began a steady pulse, up and down, as you opened your eyes to see him staring up at you with desire. He rested his hands on your hips, neither speeding you up nor slowing you down, just feeling the motion, feeling you.

After a few more strokes, you grabbed his hands and slid them up your body, pressing the palms of his hands against your breasts and tossing your head back at the sensation. He was more than willing to continue cupping and squeezing without your guidance which allowed you to set your hands on his thighs behind you, providing even more leverage for your rise and fall. Now you sped up.

“Fuck, Geralt, this feels so good,” you cried out.

“I can make it better,” he countered, slipping his hands around your ribs and pulling you forward, chest to chest as he captured your lips once more. With his hands firmly holding your head in place, he began to buck up into you and when it seemed like it was going to be to much, he let his hands drift down your back and onto your hips again, to hold you place while he set a punishing pace, thrusting ever harder and deeper into your pulsing core until he finally exploded with a roar. It wasn’t your peak, but you weren’t complaining in the least. He’d fucked you through several tiny orgasms, each ebbing and flowing with ease. If there was nothing more, no additional gratitude the rest of the night, you’d be just fine.

But he was having none of it. He lifted you off and laid you to the side, urging you back against the head of the bed and lifting the covers for you to climb under. Once you were comfy, he left the bed to deal with the condom removal, grabbing an apple and knife from his bag on the way back. You sat and conversed while he fed you thin slices of sweet fruit, taking his own bites after every third for you.

Geralt was easy to talk to. Not overly wordy, but happy to chat nonetheless. Although you wanted to ask questions about the hotel, you knew it would be wildly inappropriate so you stuck with the script for the scene. What would it take to clear the rest of the Kraks? How dangerous would it have been had he gone alone? What’s the most danger he’d ever gotten into? The most fun? How often, exactly, had he and Lambert been thanked simultaneously?

That question was designed to reignite the passion in the room. You weren’t disappointed. The mere telling of the experiences got him rock hard again and it was with delight that you let him take the lead the rest of the evening. Once he’d donned another condom after feasting on your pussy one more time, he took you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist so he could grab at them when he needed to open you wider or lift your leg over his shoulder to find that one final deep spot that had you panting his name and coming hard around him. He took one more lingering kiss, then pulled out and tidied up, joining you back under the covers for a final round of pillow talk before turning in for the night.

Somehow, with the knowledge that the physical part of the evening was over, the air in the room changed and the conversation did as well. He wasn’t overly concerned with keeping the topics to the scene, but you found yourself second guessing if you should ask anything at all about Walter. It seemed rude, even though Mike had been completely open about it. This stay wasn’t that one.

You’d booked an overnight and Geralt hadn’t needed to bend time for you, if that was even something he could do, so you had no direct in with a question about his possible gifts. You could maybe ask why Lambert had called him Wolf, since they were both from the same school. But in the end it was Geralt who brought up Walter, without realizing what he was doing.

“I lucked into this spot. The hotel had just lost one of their best hosts, and the guy was booked solid weeks out. They’re still trying to find another werewolf to take his room, but in the meantime they contacted me and set up this level.”

“How did they find out about you?” you asked, trying to keep your heart rate from spiking at the hint of information about Walter.

“The way they find out about any of us, I suppose. Word of mouth.”

“Do you know what happened to him? The guy before you?” You didn’t think you were holding your breath, but Geralt’s answer told you otherwise.

“Not a clue. I try not to get caught up in the gossip. Hey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to faint. That’s a real skill since you’re already laying down.”

You tried to take a breath and laugh it off at the same time, asking your next question with a feigned indifference. “There’s gossip in this hotel?”

Geralt’s laugh was infectious. “There’s gossip at every hotel, but this one's something else. I think the vampire is the ring leader. I try to stay away from it. Keep my head down. Take care of my guests. And I shouldn't have even said that. Please forgive me.”

It was obvious he wasn't going to give up much more information, if he even knew anything specific to begin with. You tried to stifle a yawn, but Geralt noticed and stood up to blow out the candles illuminating the room, leaving one small oil lamp burning. When he returned to bed, you curled up into his warmth. You felt a little bad about imagining it was Walt you were snuggled next to, but it didn’t stop you from drifting asleep with a smile on your face.

You opened your messaging app as you were about to step out of the cafe where you’d gone for a latte the next morning after dropping your bag at home.

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79

if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #witcher!geralt #witcher!geralt x reader #henry cavill characters #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt fanfiction #spoopy season #medieval fantasy #mine #deandoesthingstome

324 notes · View notes

waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle · 2 months

Text

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush Gojo!

-Yandere Gojo

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia. Violence and use of blood!

Wc:1.8k

🏷:@busyreader17 @starlight5cat @xavlyzn

(Idk If I was supposed to tag y’all in the new chapter, sorry if it bothers you but I’m kinda new to this whole fanfic tumblr thing 🙈🫶🏻)

Chapter 4

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

As the busy Shanghai nightlife contrasted your gloominess with its vibrant lights and loud people, you allowed your anger to fuel your fast-paced steps to lead you to your destination.

What destination exactly?

Well…

You didn’t know just yet.

Before you could notice you got lost in the beautiful chaos that is this city, a city where you know no one and all you have on yourself is your cellphone. As you stood still thinking about what your next move should be, then you suddenly smiled at yourself as you remembered you somehow managed to lose that long-legged freak about two blocks ago.

That peace is shortly interrupted as you feel a cold finger touch your shoulder from the Back.

-“I Know I have made a mistake and I’ll accept any punishment that doesn’t include you leaving my side. That one is the most unbearable of them all.”-He muttered as he looked down unable to face your distraught expression.-“Plus did you really think you’d lose me after springing some blocks?”- He said as he returned his gaze to yours.-“ I always come back you know. And for you specifically, I’ll even crawl back if it’s necessary.”

To you it sounded like a joke but you would be surprised if you knew what he was capable of doing for your love.

All you could do was give him a disgusted look as you responded.

-“You make me sick, what’s your fucking problem?! You dare to almost put me and jail and then you show up high and mighty begging for forgiveness?? Why should I forgive you? All you’ve caused me are problems and to your discontent, I’m finally done with all of this.”

He showed a displeased expression as he noticed you didn’t care for his sincere apology, but he wasn’t gonna let this slide so he pulled you into an abandoned alleyway with the hopes that you could talk better.

-“Let go of me! I’m not going anywhere with you.”-you blurted out as you smacked his hand away.

-“Please just hear me out, if you're not content with my apology I’ll let you go.”- He lied through his teeth as he showed you his puppy eyes.He was putting his life on the line with this acting gig , he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you decided to abandon him.

You glare at him in a distrusting matter, but as you recall he’s never been dishonest right up to this moment. So you lower your claws and follow him to where he wants to go.

-“If I’m being honest with you I’m not used to treating normal people like you, I’m used to treating thugs who wouldn’t give a damn if they lost everything in a second. So I could say that I did what I did thinking you wouldn’t care for much for it, now l know it’s not an excuse and I’ll have you know that I take full responsibility for my actions and that I-“

Gojo was interrupted during his speech by a rustle at the entrance of the alleyway.

The next thing you know a beer bottle is being thrown next to your head, you can’t help but scream out and duck to the floor trying to process what just happened, your boss turns as he feels for something under his coat, scanning the area for danger.

As the steps, Drew closer a group of 3 tough -looking guys stomped in, each of them playing with a different weapon in their rough scarred hand. As they targeted the two of you with their eyes the tallest who seemed to be the leader ultimately spoke.

-“Finally I catch you two alone, sorry to break up your lover's quarrel but me and that albino bastard have some business to tend to. So I’ll let a fine lady like yourself leave, but you.”- He spat out as he pointed a flick knife directly at gojo.-“But since this cheating mother fucker doesn’t know how to respect my boss’s territory. I guess I’ll have to teach this preppy son of a bitch some respect.”

You looked up at Gojo for some sort of response but all he did was stare at the offender as if he knew something the other party didn’t. As if this confrontation was an opportunity instead of an inconvenience. An opportunity to let go of all of his pent-up frustration, an opportunity to let all his raw, nasty feelings out after caging them up for a gentleman-like facade for your pretty self.

-“3 against one. Your boss’s a bitch for sending you all to do this.”-Gojo said as he looked around for something, as soon as he found what he was looking for his eyes sparkled. He crouched down and cuffed up his charcoal grey suit up to his elbows revealing a tattoed forearm twisted with black and white thorns.

As the tall figure in front of you grasped a long metal tube; he flexed his veins in the dim night light. In your time meeting him you never thought that he had all that ink under those tailored designed suits.

-“Awww how cute gonna defend your girlfriend? If you feel the odds against you; we’ll let her join, we won’t be too hard on her.”-The offender slurred as he looked at your trembling frame, hugging your knees as if you could hide like a ball.

Cold sweat adorned your forehead as you pondered the chances of getting out of this one alive, you couldn’t yell out for help or call trusty Geto without the gangster knowing. All you could do was pray that Gojo could land a hard punch and that your quivering knees wouldn’t give up on you if you managed to run away.

Next, their leader clenched his sticknife firmly in his hand as he launched forward at Gojo, but to your surprise, your boss swung back the metal stick as if it was a baseball bat that then struck the poor man’s head; his head bounced at impact, the force of the hit forcing his body to slum against the brick wall.

-“Gojo!”-You yelled out in horror with the hopes that all this nightmare and suffering would end in a second.

-“Sorry baby, please turn away. Who hits first; hits hardest.”-Grumbled the icy-eyed man as he looked back at you for a split second he wore the biggest smile on his blood-splattered face.

As soon as they saw their leader down the two henchmen tried to attack Gojo but before they could get close enough your knight in rusted armor whacked the pole against oh the guy's stomach causing him to hit the ground in excruciating pain as he grasped his stomach, next thing you know the other guy has his knees shattered as is now sobbing as he clutches his legs, rolling in pain.

You didn’t want this, this isn’t what you had planned, all you wanted to do was explore the city, but before you could continue to lament yourself as you lay there in shock looking at the agonizing figures before you. The noise of the metal stick hitting the ground interrupts you. Slowly your boss starts to get closer and soon you smell the blood reek on his tux.

Before he could say anything you lunged to hug his built torso as you cried into his chest smearing mascara all over the expensive cloth, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of having you all on him in a disheveled matter. And as soon as he hugged you back, all the chaos was worth it for him. He would beat up as many guys as necessary just so he could sense your small frame quiver under his touch as you looked for solace in him.

And if you were being honest, you hated to admit it but you felt protected and cared as he combed your hair with his slender fingers. Your cheeks blushes as he planted a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

Sniffing his cologne mixed with sweat and blood wasn’t all that bad if he continued to Pat you back with one hand as he swaddled your face with the other. Maybe you were taking advantage of the situation but your heart felt full and warm as he coddled you in his arms.

But as if god heard you and punished you for your thoughts he promptly stepped away to look into your teary eyes and say.

-“C'mon princess, we gotta leave this place.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

It is currently 12 am and you are back at the villa, as you try to comprehend all that just happened, Gojo swipes a warm wet cloth across your face attempting to remove your ruined makeup. The bed sunk under his weight as he carefully tugged your eyelashes under the damp towel to get you as clean as possible as he sat beside you in clean fresh sweat.

Geto stands beside him as the guilt eats him up for not protecting you as he should have.

All he did was run to your rescue as soon as his best friend gave him your location. But in the end, all he felt like was a useless piece of shit, as he stared at your puffy eyes his cell phone rang in his pocket, he then promptly exits the room putting the bowl on the nightstand so he could take the call and not bother you any further.

As your boss notices you start to yawn, he quickly stands up to cover you with a fluffy blanket that is laid at your bed rest.

-“I feel pathetic, You're the one that saved mebut here you are tending to me.”-You mumbled as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

He just grinned and patted your head.

-“I was the one who put you in that mess, so in the end I hope you find forgiveness in your heart for an idiot like me.”- He responded as he scratched his undercut.

You managed to let out a chuckle.

-“You saved my life, I guess we can call it even then.”- Even though it cost you to say that in the end he deserved it. You knew what kind of business you were getting into , and even though he lied to you, he defended you like nobody would. But you still had it crystal clear that is he slipped up again , you would be a goner

His heart melted as those compassionate words left your mouth, he knew he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. But as you indulged his sins he couldn’t help but love you more than yesterday. He knew he was in debt to you, and it just so happened that he was a man who liked to pay his dues, so he promised to himself that he wouldn’t let anyone including himself hurt you. Even if it meant following you around the world like a shadow, he was willing to make that “sacrifice”.

-“Well after hearing you say that; I guess I can sleep in peace tonight. Goodnight sweet thing.”-He voiced as he rubbed your cheek with his callous thumb.

As he turned to head to the door, your small hand pinched the back of his shirt to his attention. He swiftly turns around and he raises an eyebrow in a playful matter as he waits for you to voice out your need that stopped him from heading to his bedroom.

-“Can you stay here with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

A/n: omg that was crazy , I tried to write this chapter as realistically as possible since I haven’t been in a gang fight yet but if I am I’ll confirm or deny the readers pov. I hope you guys enjoyed it and if you have any comments or request please let me know it really motivates me to hear back from you guys. Till next week kisses!! 💋🥰♥️ I’ll finish editing the font tomorrow it’s 3am as I’m writing this I’m so sleepy zzzz

165 notes · View notes