#“I see the danger - It's written there in your eyes

[comatosebunny09]

defense(less) zone | sylus

— summary: it wasn’t until your friend returned with a third glass that he noticed something was…off. the woman—tara, he believes her name was—pat him on the shoulder as she strode past. “have a good night, mr. skye,” she drawled, leaving sylus to ponder what the hell that meant. — cw: aphrodisiacs, written with female reader in mind, awkward boners, stupid humor, alcohol consumption, accidental intentional drugging, profanity, sylus in-heat, sexual content, mdni — notes: here's half of what you asked for. once i finish up with my other wips, i'll revisit this one. thank you so much for reading! — tags: @leighsartworks216 @world-of-hearts @queenofstresss @cheshireworld @beewilko

Sylus knew better.

He knew after the third time you warned him not to touch the grog that it was imperative he listen.

Sure, he teased you about it. “I assure you, sweetheart. I know how to hold my liquor.”

The sharp look in your eye held a warning. “That’s not the problem.”

He chuckled with his hands thrown up in mock surrender. You were being a killjoy, sure. But he heeded you, avoiding the table that held the concoction of spirits like the plague.

Until…

Well, your friends—they were so lovely. Equally as insistent, shoving drinks and hors d'oeuvres into his hands while you were off socializing.

It was your fault for leaving him alone. You were the talk of the ball since you’d stepped foot in the venue with Mister Tall, Dark, and Devastating. Naturally, when you left his side, your friends swept in, buzzing about like hoverflies.

They bombarded him with questions, swooned over him, complimented him. He was used to the limelight. This level of attention. But it hit differently when people weren’t kissing his ass because he was a kingpin.

He found his defenses melting into the floor the more they talked to him, and it was easy for Sylus to understand why you acquainted yourself with them. They were lively. Disarming. Dangerous.

One of your lady friends sidled up to him with a glass of something ominous. Light pink in color, and it swirled and glittered like a nebula. Its acrid scent should’ve been enough of a ward. But he didn’t want to be rude. And he wasn’t a bitch, so he drank it, ignoring its harsh edge. He needed to blend in. Show you he could drink like a sailor and still carry you home by the night’s end.

And…maybe he was being a little impressionable.

It wasn’t until your friend returned with a third glass that he noticed something was…off.

“Thank you,” Sylus said, the glass poised at his lips.

Your friend watched with mischief painting her features. That didn’t bode well. Sylus threw back the last drink, placing his glass on a waiter’s tray passing by.

The pair stood in uncomfortable silence—Sylus smiling warily with a hand stuffed in his pocket and the young lady refusing to look away as a Chesire grin split her face in twain.

The woman—Tara, he believes her name was—pat him on the shoulder as she strode past. “Have a good night, Mr. Skye,” she drawled, leaving Sylus to ponder what the hell that meant.

The rest of your coworkers followed suit, slowly trickling away to the dancefloor. As Sylus said his goodbyes to the last of them, the room started to teeter, and his chest grew heavy as if weighed down by lead.

Sylus massaged his temple, trying to blink away the sudden bleariness. There was no way in hell he was drunk. Not this early in the evening, and not after a handful of watered-down cocktails.

He scanned the room. Caught your eye amongst the sea of revelers. You raised your champagne flute to him in greeting, a quiet smile rounding your lips. This ball was important to you—an opportunity to create a lasting impression on your new superiors. Sylus would kick himself if he spoiled it. So, he nodded.

But he learned to regret that simple gesture soon enough.

He stumbled forward a step or two, and the marbled floors below swam. What the fu—

Shaking his head, Sylus’ eyes flit to you to see your brows pinching with concern. You looked like you wanted to tear through the crowd to get to him. He smiled to lay your worries to rest, mouthing, ‘I’m alright.’

Seemingly satisfied, you spared him another apprehensive look before returning your attention to the woman before you who’d ensnared you in conversation.

Sylus wasn’t exactly sure what was amiss with his body. Just knew he was growing hot beneath the fibers of his tux, and the hairs at his nape were pasted to his skin by sweat.

He wended through the crowd, taking long strides towards the restroom. Maybe a splash of cold water would draw him back to sobriety.

On his journey, he caught sight of the punchbowl you’d steered him away from all night.

He swallowed past a lump of barbs in his throat, quickening his pace as a familiar swirl of pale pink gleamed condescendingly at him from within.

—

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty.

He inspected himself in the mirror, his large hands on either side of the sink bowl to keep him upright.

He’d broken out with a fine sheen of sweat. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Why the fuck was it so hot? And why was his chest burning like that, the sensation slowly puddling in his stomach?

Sylus turned on the faucet. Cupped his palms beneath its languid spray, splashing water onto his face. He slapped his cheeks, willing himself to get his shit together. Despite his efforts, the lights of the men’s room continued to spin and blur, and he struggled to keep himself afloat.

He winced at his reflection. Took a deep breath, mouth hanging open when he exhaled. He looked flushed. Unkempt. The veins of his neck visibly throbbed, and he felt the beginnings of a headache seeping in. Could he really not hold his liquor?

“Hey, man!” called a boisterous voice from behind. It was followed by a clap on Sylus’ shoulder, and had he been anyone but himself, he would’ve barreled into the wall. A growl roiled in his chest, and he cut his eyes at the intruder.

The guy in question—one of your coworkers whom Sylus spoke with earlier—draped an arm about his shoulders, studying both their visages with a drunken cant to his lips.

“Great party, huh?”

Sylus could only grunt, his throat slowly constricting, and his wits scattered about.

“You alright, man?” he queried. “Not lookin’ so hot there.” He studied Sylus’ side profile a moment longer before a knowing foxlike grin crept over his lips. “Aw, dude! You get a hold of the grog, too?”

Sylus felt the color drain from his face.

“Yeah, man. That shit’s lethal. Don’t know what they put in it this time, but I’m harder than a rock!” The room erupted with his raucous laughter directly into Sylus’ ear. He proceeded to palm himself, playfully wiggling his hips.

Sylus wondered how long you’d give him the silent treatment if he committed murder tonight.

“Take care, man,” the obnoxious asshole bellowed, patting Sylus a little too roughly between his shoulder blades. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Sylus tracked his movements to the door until it swung closed behind him, blotting out the swell of noise beyond. He bowed forward, his forehead colliding with the glacial surface of the mirror—a welcomed contrast to his inflamed skin.

“Fuck,” he rasped, hanging on by a thread.

They spiked the grog. They spiked the fucking grog. He’d had three glasses of it, and whatever was in there disrupted his senses and made his pants grow unbearably tight. That would explain why everyone was so nauseatingly happy.

Your visage flashed in his mind. Made his body pulse, and he crumbled with grit teeth.

He knew you’d be up his ass when you found out.

In his defense, you left him to the wolves. To those jackals you called friends.

—

He finds you in no time. Sniffs you out like a bloodhound after he gave himself a lengthy pep talk in the bathroom.

“Sweetie,” Sylus calls from behind. Eases a hand down the curve of your spine. You shiver. Damn your dress for having such a devastating plunge. For boasting your pretty skin like that.

You’re so soft here, he thinks, dragging the backs of his fingers up and down the ripples of your vertebrae. The scent you carry is lethal. Floral and sweet. His eyes nearly pitch into the back of his skull when he gets a whiff, toes scrunching in his dress shoes.

You peer at him over your shoulder, a soft smile to your lips. Toy with your necklace. Very demure, very docile.

“There you are,” you purr with that thousand-watt smile, your voice honey-smooth. He feels it pooling in his lower belly. Bites his lip against a pathetic sound threatening to make itself known.

Over your shoulder, he gives your company a curt, dismissive smile. Perches a hand on your hip, drawing you back towards him to spin you around. He then leads you to a spot devoid of people, away from the strobing lights. His palms clasp around your arms, thumbs cruising over supple skin.

“What’s up?” you whisper, pressing a concerned hand between his pectorals. His Achilles Heel. His heart beats a war cadence against you. He might just take you here if you’ll let him. Split you nice and open.

Alarm meddles with your features at his silence. At the violent tremor of his heart. Your brows furrow, and your lips quiver. “What’s wrong, Sy?”

God, you’re beautiful, even when you look all concerned. He traces a languid triangle between your bowed lashes and lips. Wants to kiss you so fucking bad. Smudge that pretty lipstick down your chin. Slide his hand between your thighs and make you sigh his name in front of all these people.

His dick throbs.

Fuck. Focus. Stay focused.

“Sweetie,” he tries again, swallowing thickly. His eyes are at half-mast. He’s trying his best not to sway—not to look like a bumbling idiot, but whatever’s in his system has him seeing double.

You jet into mom mode. Gently grab his wrists, the feel of your digits branding his skin, wrenching a needy sound from his throat. “Sylus, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He debates on telling you the truth. Turns it over like a record in his mind, weighing the pros and cons. Feels silly, like a child admitting to rifling through the cookie jar.

A wave of vertigo hurtles into him, reminding him of his plight. He teeters forward, catching himself at the last minute. Angles closer, his breath stirring your baby hairs.

“I…might’ve indulged a little.”

“Huh?” you ask, rubbing up and down his arms. You smooth his hair away from his forehead, behind his ears. Gather his cheeks into your palms, and he burns like an inferno. “The hell does that even mean?”

He tries his best to roll his eyes. For someone so gorgeous, you can be incredibly daft.

“The grog, sweetie.”

“The grog…” There’s a faraway look in your eyes.

He watches the gears turn in your head before realization descends on your shoulders. Whatever concern you held for him sloughs off, replaced by mortification. The world eases by in a Gaussian blur, every sound a muddled mess to his ears.

Suddenly, you’re shoving at him. Pelting his chest with half-hearted jabs, and he stumbles back. Bad idea. He catches your hands, holding on tight to keep himself afloat.

“You drank—you drank the fu—”

Glancing around, you haul him towards an alcove. Push him up against the wall none-too-gently, forcing a grunt from his lungs.

“You drank the fucking grog?”

Uh-oh. You’re whisper-yelling. He’s in for it now.

“Yep.”

“After I told you, like, thirty times not to?!”

“Yep.”

“What the fuck, man!”

He’s swaying again. Plasters on a silly grin. It’s comical, watching you quietly panic.

“To be fair, your friend fed it to me.” He motions to something off to the side with a tilt of his head.

You pick up on his cue. Tara’s not too far off, waggling her fingers in a way that bleeds mischief.

“Unbelievable!” you sigh, scrubbing a frustrated hand down your face. “I can’t leave you by yourself for two seconds.”

You’re clearly upset. He doesn’t mind catching strays. Couldn’t dodge them even if he tried. So, instead, he takes hold of your hands to calm them. Tugs you closer, eyes a bleary shade of burgundy. 

“What’s done is done, sweetheart. How we next choose to handle this is what matters now.”

You give him a look. A once-over, painting a sharp line down the slope of his body. It is then that you catch sight of him—hot and turgid against the stitching of his trousers. A knit forms between your brows. You look like you want to scream-slash-cry.

“That bad?” you ask. Your disappointment from before abates, replaced by something of concern. He chuckles, and it’s an effort on its own. 

Sluggishly, he directs your hand to the cusp of him. Groans something filthy and bitten-off, eyes screwing shut. He bows into you, a bead of sweat trailing down the ridge of his Adam’s apple. 

“That bad.”

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𓆰 Bad Dragon ᯓᡣ𐭩

synopsis: DragonHunter!Reader x DragonHybrid!Sylus

tags: 5 seconds of plot before filth hehe, manhandling, use of tail, mirror sex, choking, creampie, backshots AND missionary (i’m a whore but i’m also romantic), cumplay, orgasm denial, rough, like REAL rough, degredation, marking, claiming, cunnalingus, cumeating, heavy possessiveness, biting, mean sylus on the low, dragons so…monsterfucking?

wrd cnt: 3.2k (longest fic i’ve ever written…i love my man)

a/n: first of all yea the title is a reference to the dragon sex toy company and YES i wrote this with one hand anyways so yeah i saw the first drip marketing and fell to my fucking knees and started writing this 10 minutes after bc..?💀 yall im so serious im obsessed with dragons it’s my tism specialty my bestie @astarionapologist knows this….infold did this just to rob my ass

A cold and brutal wind swept through the jagged peaks of Tarus, carrying the scent of wet rubble and cinder.

You tugged on the ends of your pants, pulling them down to prepare for a hike up the mountain.

Your breath came in visible clouds of vapor, each huff proof of the frigid night that swallowed the sky above you.

The mouth of a cave ahead, like a black maw, unveiled an entrance that seemed to be your x on the map.

This was it; the nest of the bounty you had hunted for almost a month now.

With a final glance at the starlit scene, you unsheathed your heavy sword and stepped into the smoldering darkness.

The air around you thick and getting heavier by the second, something you couldn’t explain. Was it fear?

The sounds of the outside world disappeared, only the faint drips of water within the cave walls and the distant crackle of a dying fire behind you. You followed the tunnel, each step uncertain, and each sound amplified in the silence as you chose your path through the darkness.

And then, there he was, your prey.

Your heart skipped a beat, but not from fear… from recognition. The bounty poster hadn't prepared you for this, nothing could have. The deep cavern divided from any natural light made the mineral rich walls glow a shade almost mimicking the sun.

His scales shimmered, a contrast of his pale skin, red painted streaks adorning his skin and the obsidian scales that marked his body. He lounged on a makeshift bed of bedrock and bones, scorpion-like tail twitching lazily, the tip brushing against the stone floor with a soft, almost mocking rhythm that almost made it hard to believe it was him. Were you hallucinating?

"Well," he drawled, one leg draped on the sofa as the other layed parallel, an elbow to perch him up as you spoke to his back. "If it isn't little miss hunter." His voice was a low purr, lined with amusement and something darker. "I’m surprised to see you here, I was sure it would take a little longer for you to find me.". He said, impression in his tone.

You didnt- couldn’t respond immediately, instead letting your eyes roam over him. His muscles were corded and tense.

"I…I came for the bounty," you said finally, your voice steady despite the turbulent emotions swirling within you. "But I didn't expect...you like this-." You say, knuckles turning white as you grip your claymore tighter.

He chuckled, a sound that rumbled through his chest. "No? Surprised to see me…Or disappointed?" He rose from the bed, moving with a predatory grace that made your pulse quicken. "You should have known better, sweetie. Listen to your gut more." He said as he closed the distance you.

Before you could react, he was upon you, his hands grasping your wrists to pin them against the walls above your head, with terrifying ease no doubt. His even larger now body pressed against yours, the heat of his chest searing through your clothing. The familiar scent of smoke and spice filled your senses like an aphrodisiac.

"Now," he whispered, his lips dangerously close no yours. "What should I to do with you, my pesky little kitten?” He purred, his lips brushing your cheek and nuzzling into you like a feline.

His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the shell of your ear before he bit down gently, or whatever gentle might be to his standard; his teeth sinking into the tender flesh.

You gasped, the sensation both painful and unbearably pleasurable. His grip on your wrists tightened.

"Should I kill you?" he mused, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll keep you here...forever. My kindred spirit.”

Your breath hitched as his knee nudged between your legs, pressing insistently against your core.

The pressure sent a bolt of arousal straight to your center, pooling hotly between your thighs. You struggled against his hold, not out of fear, but from the overwhelming desire clawing its way to the surface. He was right, wasn’t he? Kindred spirits never seem to break away, the harder you pull the force of snapping back only heightened.

"Please..." you whispered, the word torn from your throat. "Don't..."

His chuckle was low and filthy, sending another wave of shivers through you. "Oh, I apologize, ‘don’t’ as in kill you? or keep you? You’re awefully confusing," he said, his hand slipping down your hip to find the curve of your ass; squeezing it roughly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his knee harder against you.

"It seems- your tongue isn’t telling the truth." He adds, his knee feeling the heat emanating from your core.

His tail lassos around your waist, coiling and pulling you flush against him, if it was even possible to get closer.

The sensation was electrifying, the thick and almost malleable appendage wrapping possessively around you.

His cock, already hard and throbbing, pressed against your stomach, demanding attention.

"Look at me," he commanded, forcing your chin up so you met his gaze with a firm hand on your throat, his nails sharp enough to make you bleed with just a prick.

"Tell me what you want. Be clear.”

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. The intensity of his stare was enough to reduce you to ash in his hands. But there was no denying the ache building inside you, the desperate need for him.

Fuck that bounty.

"I want…you," you admitted, the confession tasting bitter on your tongue like a scorched burn.

His smile was feral, triumphant. "That's my girl."

With a swift motion, he pulled you away from the wall and towards the seating. His tail kept you anchored, dragging you along like a prize as he held onto your throat. The scales scratched against your skin as he threw you down, following you down with a snarl.

"Mine," he growled, his hands roving over your body without mercy. "Only mine."

His fingers found your nipples, pinching and twisting them with brutal efficiency. You cried out, arching into his touch despite the pain.

The pleasure-pain duality was maddening.

"Yes," you whimpered, your hands gripping the rock beneath you. "Oh gods, yes..."

His mouth covered yours in a kiss that was anything but tender. His tongue invaded your mouth, stealing your breath and leaving you gasping. “There are no gods here…none that can save you.” He whispered before his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, drawing blood in a sweet, metallic exchange.

You could feel his tail tighten its grip around your waist, the scales digging into your skin every growing second as he hovered over you, his eyes drowned with a mix of lust and possessiveness.

His claws crept up your neck, grabbing your throat and squeezing just enough to make you groan, a smirk plastering his face.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with ego. "So eager, so needy. Pathetic."

You put your hand on his wrist, pleading eyes for him to do something, anything- anything to stop the torment he was putting you through.

This was still Sylus- your Sylus, who knew exactly what to do to make you lose it.

"Beg," he demanded, breaking the silence and watching you with hungry eyes. "Beg for it."

You shook your head, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "Please..."

He laughed again, low and dark. "Not good enough."

His hand moved down, cupping your sex through your clothes- feeling your warmth. The rough flesh pressed against your sensitive flesh between the fabric, adding another layer of stimulation.

"Please- Sylus," you gasped, desperation coloring your voice. "Please, more..."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "What was that? I didn’t catch that," he whispered, his hand leaving. "Try again."

You twisted under him, craving more; unable to find satisfaction.

"Please... please, touch me," you begged, your voice hoarse and raw. "I can't... I can't take it anymore..." You begged.

He paused, his hands resting on the curve of your hip. For a moment, you thought he might give in, might finally grant you release, like the Sylus you’ve always known. But then, he smiled, a cruel twist of his lips that sent a chill down your spine.

"That's more like it," he purred, his fingers resuming their merciless dance. "But not yet.."

His tail released from your waist, not before it flipped you onto your stomach, then finding itself wrapped around your thigh, spreading your legs apart: toying with your body like a stringed puppet. The pressure was almost unbearable, but you welcomed it, craved it. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve ending thrumming with anticipation.

"Sylus..." you moaned, your hips pressing back against him. "Please..."

“You never learn to be patient do you?” He asked- moreso a statement, “…just a needy little slut, aren’t you sweetie? Even now.” He continued, in a mocking tone.

Before you could defend yourself, he grabbed your hair, yanking your head up so you were forced to look at yourself in the gold framed mirror, sitting perfectly between mounds of gold on the floor directly infront of you two. Your reflection stared back at you, wild-eyed and flushed, your hair disheveled and your neck marked with bruises, lips red and swollen.

"Look at what you’ve become," he purred, his voice a seductive whisper as he lowered himself down to speak in your ear, his chest on your back. "A filthy little thing, begging for me."

You felt his gaze, even more intimate in the mirrors reflection that looking directly at him.

His hands roamed your body once more, squeezing at your hips and your breasts.

“Take it off” he demanded in your ear, waiting for you to undress for him.

Without wasting another second, you started to unbutton your garments.

But even a second is too long- you find your clothes now on the floor torn in unmendable fashion as the dragon rips them off you, savagely graceful.

“Sylus-!” You pout, You wanted to argue, to demand that he listen, but all words died in your throat as you felt it—

“Oh? She’s finally quiet? You shouldn’t reveal what you like so easily.”

You really had no response, two thick, heavy shafts pressing against your bare skin. One nestled between the soft folds of your cunt, the other sliding along the curve of your ass. Your imagination ran wild, filling in the gaps where your vision failed in your compromised position. What would they look like up close? How would it feel to have them inside you, both at once?

Your hands gripped the edge of the bedrock sofa, looking at his large body hovering over you in the reflection of the mirror, his clawed hands running up and down your spine, pawing at your breasts, making you shiver and breathe raggedly.

"Do you like that?" he purred, his voice dripping with promise. "Do you want more?" He offered.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from him. He stared back at you, a blend of fear and longing could be seen in your eyes that made your heart ache. But it wasn't fear that drove you now; it was something far more primal, something that clawed at your insides. A deep, throbbing need that pooled low in your belly.

You could feel the weight of his shafts pressing insistently against you and more harshly as you prolonged your silence.

"Yes," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... I want it."

“Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and rough. "Wider."

You obey without thinking, your thighs parting as far as they will go, exposing yourself completely to his scrutiny. The cool air of the cave brushes against your slick, sensitized flesh, making you gasp.

“Such a good girl," he murmured, “you’re going to take it all aren’t you?” He asks, his shafts both rubbing against your slicked heat, you could feel the tip of one shaft nudging at your entrance, slick with pre-cum that made your folds tingle with warmth while the other poked at your clit.

“Sy…lus-“ You dragged out, your head drooping down at his teasing gestures, it’s almost like he was waiting for you to let your guard down, because the minute you did…your head shot back up.

His initial thrust was slow, almost gentle, but it still sent a jolt of adrenaline through your system.

You gasped, your body arching instinctively as the thick length filled you, stretching you wide with both his cocks. It was overwhelming, almost too much, but there was no escaping it; not that you wanted to.

"That's it," Sylus purred, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos inside you. "Take it all, make me proud”, he teased.

The mirror across from you reflected the scene with cruel clarity, showing you sprawled out beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His thrusts were brutal, unrelenting. Each one hit deep, sending shockwaves of intensity through your body. You screamed, the sound echoing off the walls of the cave. Your vision blurred, tears streaming down your face as you clung to the edge of release.

Sylus followed your gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight. "See how beautiful you are when you’re mine?" he taunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more savage. "See how perfect you look with me inside you?"

His large frame hovered right above you, back flush against his chest as he played with your tits, marking and sucking at your neck.

"Sylus... please... please..."

He kissed the tears from your cheeks, his lips trailing down to your jaw and shoulder as he mounted you from behind. "Almost," he murmured, his tips hitting the spongy spot inside your walls.

“So close…” you whimpered.

And then, without warning, he withdrew, leaving you empty and aching. You cry out in protest, reaching for him behind you with trembling hands.

"Please," you sobbed, your voice strained.

His large claws held your waist and flipped you onto your back, his knees spreading your thighs further, your eyes now stuck on the clear view of his cocks.

It was almost like you imagined- two slightly scaled shafts, longer and thicker than you’ve seen.

He made you watch, intently, as he rubbed them onto your aching and wet folds, slapping the tip on your cunt and watching you mewl as the vulgar gushing sounds echo in the cave.

"Please, let me come..." You beg.

He leaned in closer, his hands at each side of your head as his lips brushed against your ear. "Not yet," he whispered, his cocks plunging into you again with sudden, vicious force. "Not until you've earned it." He growled, his hips snapping against yours.

It was even deeper now- somehow, feeling your stomach bulge slightly, and he made sure you noticed.

“Oh sweetie- look at you, feel me right here?” He cooed, his fingertips tracing the shape of his cocks under your belly, hitting the spots inside you that made you almost pass out.

It was different this time, less frantic, more calculated. Each thrust was measured, aimed directly at those sensitive spots. His tail flicked against your clit, adding another layer of torment, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Sylus- Please!” You screamed, your hands gripping his shoulders so tightly, scratching at his upper back like a long clawed kitten.

"That's it," he purrs, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "Show me how much you want this."

You couldn’t even control the noises coming out of you, not from your mouth or your….

His red eyes glowed with amusement, and he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me," he demands, his voice a velvet rasp. "Tell me what you want.”

“I want…I need- I need to cum, please Sylus-“ You spoke in labored and ragged pants.

He responds in an instant, his cocks angling in a way that hits your sweet spot with pinpoint accuracy. The sensation is indescribable, a spike of pure ecstasy that sends you spiraling so tantalizing close.

"Come for me then," he growls, his voice a rough command. "Now."

The words act like a trigger, setting off a chain reaction within you. Your body seizes, muscles clenching tightly around his cocks as waves of pleasure crash over you in pure bliss.

“Fuck…” He growls close to your ear, feeling you release around him.

You could see your vision whiting out, stars exploding behind your eyelids as the orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

But Sylus….oh he doesn't let up, his thrusts continuing even as you shake underneath him. He rides out your climax, milking it for all it's worth, his cocks driving you higher and higher until you think you might pass out from the sheer intensity of it, his cocks drilling in and out of you despite all the mess you’ve already made on them.

"Sylus... please..." you beg, your voice breaking on a sob. "I can't... I can't take it..."

“Oh? Can’t? We’ll see about that.” He says against the shell of your ear, his voice cracking and raspy as he’s close to spilling out into you, claiming you in a way no one else can ever replicate, not like this.

His cocks throb in rhythm with your racing heart, pounding you a handful more of times before filling you so completely that it feels as though he’s marking every inch of you. Sylus grunts, his body tensing as he spills his seed deep inside you. The hot, thick pulses of his release coat your insides, making you whimper with a mix of relief and raw desire.

Sylus leans down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that steals your breath. He tastes of cinder and sweat, and you melt into him, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm, clinging to him.

His tongue delves deep, exploring every corner of your mouth as if claiming not just your body, but your very soul.

When he pulls away, your lips are swollen and tender, and you’re left gasping for air. But Sylus isn’t done with you yet. Not yet. He shifts his weight, pulling out of you slowly before his hands slide down your body until they find your hips again. With a firm grip, he spreads your legs wide as he kisses down your body.

“Stay still,” he commands, his voice low and guttural.

You obey, your body trembling without must resistance.

Then, without warning, his tongue flicks out, licking a trail from the bottom of your cunt to the very top. The sensation making you arch against his face.

“So sweet,” he purrs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “Let me taste you, sweet girl.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, his tongue delving between your folds, slicking them with his saliva as he laps at the mixture of his cum and your juices. The sensation is overwhelming, sending shivers down your spine as you hold onto his silver locks, trying to steady yourself as your hips continue to rock up into his eager mouth.

Sylus works you eagerly, his tongue flicking over your clit, then delving deeper to stroke your sensitive walls. Each pass of his tongue sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan and writhe beneath him.

It’s only when he stops sucking on your sensitive pearl, that you notice the dark red mark on your lower abdomen, a physical presence of his claim of you.

That bounty board won’t be seeing you anytime soon.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

PREVIOUS

CHAPTER FIVE: SAUNA

synopsis: trapped in a sweltering sauna with Anakin, a tense confrontation unravels hidden truths about his fractured marriage to Padmé, leaving you torn between guilt, forbidden desire, and a fragile connection that defies reason.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, angst

words: 3.0k 

a/n: hello there, I confess that I started writing thinking it would be something hotter, maybe something happening, but then I started listening to 'Love is pain' by Finneas, and it ended up being more depressing than I imagined, anyway, I hope you like it ;) I appreciate the comments to know if the story is flowing for you too

Say it's not okay to feel that way It's real, you may not make her happy So what's wrong with me? If honestly, I wanna be the only way she can be

You left the pool in a rush, every step feeling heavier than the last. Avoiding Anakin had become a survival instinct. You muttered something about a headache to Luke, your voice barely steady, and excused yourself, desperate for escape. Anakin had suggested walking you to your cabin, concern evident in his eyes, but you’d refused—your heart pounding, your resolve teetering. You had to get away before you slipped further, before the line you shouldn’t cross blurred beyond recognition.

In the sanctuary of your cabin, you stripped off the bikini and stepped into the cold shower. The icy water hit your skin like a shock, chasing away the warmth he’d left lingering. You lathered soap onto your body, each motion deliberate, as if scrubbing away the memory of his touch—the way his hands had grazed your thighs, the way his eyes had traced every curve.

You closed your eyes, letting the water cascade over your face, but the memories were relentless. His rough, calloused hands on your skin. That low, gravelly voice that curled around your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Heat pooled in your core, an ache that refused to be washed away.

Stop it. You forced your eyes open, breath unsteady. This was dangerous—a free fall with no safety net. You couldn’t let yourself get lost in these thoughts.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel, needing something—anything—to pull you back to reality. Grabbing your phone, you opened the notes app and started a list. Pros and cons. Maybe seeing it in black and white would make it easier to resist.

Cons: he’s married, he’s Luke’s father, he’s much older. It’s reckless. Dangerous. Wrong.

Each point was a red flag, glaring and impossible to ignore. Rationally, you knew this. But your heart pounded, a traitorous rhythm that whispered other truths.

Pros: the way his eyes lingered on you, seeing more than anyone else, the warmth of his touch, the strength in his hands. That smile—dangerous, disarming, a weapon you had no defense against and the way your body responded, drawn to him like a magnet, every nerve alive and yearning.

You stared at the list, fingers trembling. The cons screamed caution, logic, self-preservation. But the pros—the pros were written in fire, each memory a brand on your skin, a temptation that refused to be ignored.

You can’t let this happen. But deep down, a darker, quieter voice whispered back, What if it already has?

_____________

“Come on, it’ll be nice…” Leia stood insistently at your cabin door, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe the massage will even help with your headache. You know, sometimes it’s more psychological than physical—stress and all that.” Her voice softened thoughtfully, her genuine concern shining through.

Beside her, Padmé nodded, the white terrycloth robe draped elegantly over her frame. “If you don’t like it, you can leave early,” she added gently, her tone soothing. “Just try to relax a little. You seem tense.”

Her kindness cut through you like a knife. The warmth in her voice, the sincerity in her eyes—it felt like a cruel reminder of the line you’d already crossed in your mind. Padmé wasn’t some distant, untouchable figure; she was right here, extending her hand to you, offering comfort. A good woman. A devoted wife. A loving mother.

How could you do this to her? The bitter taste of guilt churned in your stomach, rising like bile. She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the betrayal lurking in the corners of your heart, the passion you’d allowed to bloom for her husband.

It had been easier when you’d painted her as unreachable, cold—a distant figure, more concept than person. A political figurehead. A symbol. But now? Now she was real, flesh and blood, standing before you with empathy in her eyes and concern in her voice. Each word, each gentle look, felt like a condemnation.

“I don’t know, I…” The words barely escaped, your voice a whisper, cracking under the weight of shame. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken truths. You couldn’t pretend everything was okay, not when the guilt was a stone in your chest, pressing down, suffocating.

Warm tears blurred your vision before you even realized you were crying. Padmé’s eyes widened, her brow furrowing with concern. She stepped forward, her hands resting gently on your shoulders, guiding you into an embrace.

You clung to her, your sobs muffled against the soft fabric of her robe. Her touch was comforting, maternal—everything you didn’t deserve. Each tear that fell was laced with guilt, each sob a silent confession. She held you, whispering reassurances, her kindness only deepening the ache inside you.

“Why are you crying, dear?” she asked softly, pulling back just enough to search your face.

The lie slipped out before you could stop it. “I… I miss my parents.” The words tasted hollow, but Padmé’s smile was understanding, her eyes filled with a compassion that twisted the knife deeper.

A few minutes later, the three of you walked together to the spa, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken truths. Leia and Padmé, already dressed in their robes, went straight to the massage area. You watched them, the weight of your guilt pressing down, a constant reminder of the betrayal you carried.

An employee handed you a robe, gesturing toward the changing room down the hall. Each step felt heavier than the last, the simple fabric in your hands a tangible symbol of the role you played—the lie you lived.

The mirror in the changing room reflected not just your image but the conflict etched in every line of your face. This trip was meant to be an escape, a simple act of kindness for a friend. But here, in the quiet moments between words, it was becoming a battle you weren’t sure you could win.

Should you turn left or right? You hesitated, brow furrowed, as you left the locker room. The ship felt like a maze, each identical hallway blurring into the next. It must be the last door at the end. You convinced yourself, hands stuffed into the pockets of your fluffy robe, heart pounding with an unease you couldn’t shake.

The moment you pushed open the fogged glass door, a wave of heat enveloped you. The air was thick, oppressive, making your cheeks flush from the contrast with the cooler hallway. Your eyes scanned the room—large wooden benches lining the walls, steam rising in ethereal curls.

This isn’t the massage room, you realized, your pulse quickening. There should have been stretchers, calming music, not this suffocating heat. You turned to leave, but the sound of approaching footsteps froze you.

Anakin.

He stood there, a white towel wrapped low around his waist, another draped around his neck. Droplets of sweat glistened on his skin, catching the flickering light. His hair, damp and tousled, framed those piercing blue eyes that locked onto yours.

Panic surged. You spun around, hands fumbling with the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. Desperation mounted as you pounded against the fogged glass.

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Stop.” His voice was calm, almost soft, but the weight of it made you freeze. His fingers closed around your wrist, gentle but firm. “They lock it for the duration of the sauna,” he explained.

You jerked your arm away, as if his touch scalded you more than the heat. Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you avoided his gaze, staring at the floor instead.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for twenty minutes, angel,” Anakin murmured, his tone laced with something dangerous. He took a step closer. “Are you sure you want to spend that time sulking over there?”

You shrank back, clutching your robe tighter. “Don’t touch me,” you whispered, voice trembling with something between anger and fear.

His smile didn’t falter. That infuriating, knowing glint remained in his eyes. “You didn’t complain about my touch earlier today,” he said, the words a sharp jab, dragging the memory out into the open.

“Is everything a fucking joke to you?” The words escaped in a rush, your voice raw, quivering with anger and shame.

Anakin raised his hands, his expression a mix of confusion and defiance. “Wow, angel. What the hell bit you?”

You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the thick air. Moving past him, you sank onto the sauna bench, eyes fixed on the floor. “Why?” The question was barely more than a whisper.

He frowned, pacing, frustration etched into every line of his body. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“Padmé.” The name was a raw wound, guilt twisting in your chest. “She doesn’t deserve this. She’s… she’s kind. She’s everything.” Your voice cracked, the words a confession and an accusation all at once.

Anakin’s jaw clenched, his steps faltering. “Oh, so you’re feeling guilty, and you decided to take it out on me?” His voice was sharp, defensive, but there was something else beneath it—a fracture, a hint of something deeper.

Tears pricked your eyes. “You don’t deserve her.” The words were out before you could stop them, trembling with conviction.

He stopped pacing, exhaling a strangled sigh. For a moment, he stared at the door, as if the answers lay beyond it. “You don’t know shit,” he muttered, frustration threading through his voice.

You stood, anger and shame boiling over. “I know you shouldn’t have cheated on her.” You pointed a shaking finger at his chest, each word a stone thrown, heavy with accusation.

Anakin’s eyes flashed, something raw and dangerous surfacing. “Look, angel, I didn’t do it alone.” His voice dropped, low and rough. “In fact, you seemed pretty eager at the time.”

The truth of it hit you like a punch, leaving you breathless. His words weren’t just a defense—they were a mirror, reflecting the darkness you were trying so hard to avoid. You’re just as guilty. The realization twisted inside you, a storm you couldn’t escape.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand collided with his cheek, the sharp crack echoing in the steamy room. Shock and guilt hit you immediately, your eyes wide, breath shallow. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, stumbling back. But before you could escape, Anakin’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, his grip firm, knuckles white.

“Do you want to know the truth?” His voice was low, rough, the words simmering with something raw and dangerous. “Do you want to know the fucked-up truth about the ‘happy family’?” His face was so close to yours that your noses almost touched, the heat between you both stifling in more ways than one.

You swallowed hard, locked in his intense gaze, fear and something else—something thrilling—warring in your mind. He let go of your wrist, the sudden release making you stumble, falling onto the bench.

Anakin sighed, running a hand through his damp curls, his eyes distant. He sank onto the bench beside you, the space between you filled with a heavy silence. He didn’t look at you; instead, his gaze fixed on some point in the past only he could see.

“Padmé was my first love.” His voice was quiet, a mix of nostalgia and sadness. “I met her in school. She was a few years ahead of me, barely noticed I existed, but I swore I’d marry that girl one day.” A small, bitter smile played at his lips. “I met her again in college. I was nineteen. It was like those years had only made the feelings stronger. We thought we had everything figured out.”

You watched the way his fingers twisted together, the vulnerability in his posture unfamiliar. He was always so controlled, so intense. This was different—raw, unguarded.

“I proposed on our third date. Stupid, right?” He laughed, but it was hollow. “We got married that year. We were barely adults, but the love… it felt invincible. We thought we had our lives in our hands.”

You listened, your heart aching at the weight in his voice, the way his words carried the residue of dreams gone wrong.

“I joined the army right after. Months apart, letters are our only connection. It was hard, but it was worth it, our love worth it. Padmé got pregnant, and when I found out I was going to be a father... It was the best day of my life.” His eyes flickered with a light that dimmed as he continued. “I left the army when the twins were born. Padmé had just been elected, and I always knew she was always going to outshine me… Her future would be brighter”

His knee brushed against yours, the touch grounding, almost accidental. Yet it felt like a tether, holding you in the moment.

“The first few years were... perfect. Like an eternal honeymoon. I had everything I’d ever dreamed of. The wife. The kids. It felt like nothing could go wrong.” His voice faltered. “But it did. Slowly. Quietly. I don’t even know when we fell out of love. Was it the mornings waking up to an empty bed? The nights she worked late, barely noticing me anymore? I felt like I was falling down her priority list”

He laughed, a broken sound. “Maybe it was my fault. My jealousy of some stranger she met while I was gone. The arguments. The things I said that I can’t take back. I tried, but… she cried. And it was always my fault.”

You didn’t say anything, each word settling like a stone in your chest. Your heart ached—not just for him, but for Padmé, for the ghost of the love they’d lost.

“Leia and Luke were ten when we finally sat down and had a real conversation. We laid it all out. Everything.” He paused, his hands clenching into fists. “We should have divorced. We both knew it. But Padmé had just been elected to the Senate. She was already under scrutiny, criticized just for being a woman in power. If we divorced her career could have collapsed.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. This wasn’t what you’d expected. The image of their perfect marriage crumbled in front of you, replaced by something real, something flawed.

“We stayed together. Not out of love, but because we couldn’t afford to fall apart.” He finally looked at you, his eyes raw, haunted. “That’s the truth.”

You opened your mouth, searching for words, but nothing came. What could you say? He’d laid bare a part of himself you’d never seen, and the weight of it pressed down on you both. The guilt you felt twisted deeper, sharper, yet there was something else—a desperate need to comfort him, to ease his pain.

Your hand hovered near his, hesitant, the boundary between what you wanted and what you should do blurring. “Anakin…” you whispered, your voice soft, unsure.

He didn’t pull away, but the space between you was heavy with everything unspoken. In that moment, all you wanted was to bridge the gap, to offer solace. But you knew the line was thin, the risk too great. So you stayed there, the silence wrapping around you both, an unsteady truce in the heat of the sauna.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The words slipped out, barely more than a whisper. Your hand rested on his, a tentative connection.

Anakin’s eyes softened, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “It’s not like we go around telling people.” There was a bitterness in his voice, a weight beneath the casual words.

You swallowed, the questions swirling in your mind too heavy to hold back. “But how? It’s been years. You’ve been married for over twenty years… How did you make it work?” Confusion and curiosity tangled in your voice, the pieces of his story not fitting the perfect image you’d held of his family.

He tilted his head, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his tone lighter, but his eyes held a depth that pulled you in. He turned your hand, his fingers sliding between yours, the contact sending a jolt through you.

His voice dropped, quieter now. “We’re married on paper, but that’s all it is. Separate bedrooms. Separate lives. We stay married because… well, it’s easier that way. For Padmé’s career, for the image we’ve built. We can’t marry other people, but we… find companionship where we can.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, the confession hitting you like a wave. This wasn’t the story you’d imagined.

Anakin’s expression was unreadable as he continued, his voice calm, almost detached. “I’ve had my fair share of… casual encounters. And Padmé has had hers. We have an understanding.” He paused, his eyes searching yours, as if waiting for judgment.

The words felt surreal. “You just… ignore it? The other people?”

A flicker of something—pain, maybe regret—crossed his face. “We don’t talk about it. We don’t need to. It’s none of my business what she does, just like it’s none of hers who I spend my nights with.” He exhaled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I’m sure she and her secretary, Sabé, have something. I’ve never asked. It’s… easier that way.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts. You tried to process it, to reconcile the man before you with the image of the family you’d known. There was a sadness in his voice, an emptiness that tugged at something deep inside you.

Your thumb brushed gently over his knuckles, the gesture instinctive, an attempt to offer comfort. “That… sounds lonely.”

His eyes met yours, the mask slipping just enough for you to see the truth beneath. “It is.” The admission was soft, raw. A single word that held years of quiet suffering, of nights spent in an empty bed, of dreams that had slowly unraveled.

Your heart ached for him, for Padmé, for the fragile facade they’d built and maintained for so long. You wanted to say something, anything, to bridge the gap between you. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you sat there, your hand still in his, the heat of the sauna wrapping around you both. The silence was heavy, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything you couldn’t say—the understanding, the guilt, the unspoken connection that pulled you toward him, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

[prettyfilmz]

PHYSICAL TOUCH • JEY USO

authors note: we have officially made it to the end of the love language series. thank you all so much for the support I have gained, it really means the world to me that you all love what i write and knowing some of my favorite authors on here love it too. sorry for taking so damn long to update, school has been kicking your girl's ass and I was really finding it hard to write during it all. but alas we made it!! I decided to end this series the same way I started it...with my baby jey uso. you are in for a treat with this one as this is the longest one shot i've written in the series🤭 well, don't let me keep you too long. without further a due, happy reading my loves and once again thank you💗🎀 p.s. jey looks so sexy with his red and black gear for survivor series🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

summary: jey don't wanna be "just a friend" to you anymore.

tags: 18+ (MDNI), written with black woman in mind, friends who really like each other, smoking, fluff, jey is obsessed with you, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car sex, kissing, biting (slight), small bits of roughness, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink,praise, this is goofy lovey dovey shit x10000.

word count: 2.7k words

now playing: red light special - tlc

it’s midnight. the air is crisp with the cool breath of late november, cool enough to give goosebumps but still not enough to bite.  you’re sitting low in the passenger seat of jey’s sleek black charger, legs crossed and dipped in the glow of the dashboard lights.  the subtle scent of ‘black ice’ air freshener mixes well with the slow haze of smoke curling from the joint between your fingers.

jey is sitting easy in his driver’s seat, one hand draped on the wheel, the other arm resting along the back of your seat, fingers casually brushing your shoulder.  his signature chain glints in the dim light from the street lamps as they pass, the soft rumble of the car’s engine making everything feel muted, more… intimate.

you exhale a slow, lazy stream of smoke out the cracked window, watching the way the city lights smear into streaks as the charger cruises down an empty street. a gentle r&b song played low in the speakers, its lyrics matching the faint thrum of tension hanging between the two of you.

“you gon’ pass that or hold it hostage, mama?” jey’s voice cuts through the thick quiet, low and teasing, making heat spark low in your belly.

you glance at him through your lashes, lips quirking into a small smirk.  “why? you need it more than me, greedy?”

he leans over slightly, closing the gap between you, his face a little too close, soft brown eyes locked on yours.  “oh I need somethin’, alright.” his grin is sharp but playful, that familiar flirtation slipping from his lips as easy as breathing.

you roll your eyes, even though a shiver crawls down your spine.  you flick the joint between your fingers, teasing, before finally passing it to him.  his fingertips graze yours when he takes it, the brief touch buzzing through you like a shock of electricity.

the air in the car shifts, as it always does when it’s just the two of you, hovering somewhere between platonic and dangerous.  it’s always been like this for years—friends who flirt too much, share too much, maybe fuck love each other too much.  it got complicated when you started seeing someone else, tried to shut that part of you down.  but now that’s over, and things have been creeping back to where they were.  no labels, just...  whatever this is.

jey takes a slow pull from the joint, his gaze never leaving you.  his lips wrap around it just so, and you hate how your thighs press together on instinct, an action he catches easily.

he smirks as he exhales, letting the smoke drift lazily out the window.  “missed this, you know.  just me and you. you ain't gotta act all tough around me, honey.”

your heart stumbles a little at the softness in his voice, but you keep your cool, leaning back against your seat like his words didn’t hit as deep as they did.  “you're getting soft on me,” you tease, smirking.

jey chuckles in return, shaking his head as he taps ash from the joint.  “yeah, yeah. but you love that shit, don't lie." his hand slides from the back of your seat to rest on your thigh, heavy and warm, thumb brushing idly over the curve just below your skirt.  the touch is familiar, claiming, like he’s always known you’d end up right back here.

you don't attempt to move his hand. instead, you settle into the weight of it, the warmth of his large palm massaging your skin,  biting your bottom lip to hide the little smile threatening to creep across your face. he’s watching you too close, like he is reading all of your thoughts.  and maybe he is—jey’s always known how to read you well with just a look.

he leans a little closer again, voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that always gets you into trouble.  “come here.”

you glance at him, the warmth in your chest spreading fast, and you know where this is headed.  you could pretend you don’t.  you could play coy.  but you don’t want to. not with him. not tonight.

instead, you lean in, and jey meets you halfway, his lips brushing yours once, twice, before he kisses you properly.  it's slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a reminder—like he’s been waiting for this, waiting for you.

his hand tightens on your thigh, and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parting for him, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss until you’re clinging to the front of his hoodie, breathing him in like the smoke lingering in the car.

he pulls back just enough to press his forehead to yours, both of you catching your breath.  his hand drifts higher on your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt with ease.  “I ever tell you how bad I missed you, baby?”

you hum, tilting your head to nip gently at his bottom lip.  “maybe? it would be better if you show me. ”

jey groans low in his throat, his hand leaving your thigh to grab the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss—hungrier this time, all teeth and tongue. his free hand grips your thigh again, fingers digging into your skin.

he breaks the kiss to drag his lips down your neck, biting gently at the spot just beneath your ear that always makes you purr.  you gasp, arching against him, and he chuckles against your skin, his voice low and wrecked.  “that’s it, mama. I got you.”

your mind is already hazy, inebriated in the way his hands and mouth paint your body like a canvas, but it’s just the foreplay.  his fingers trail higher, brushing the edge of your panties, and you shiver, your breath stuttering out in a soft moan.

“you want this?” he murmurs against your neck, his thumb slipping beneath the damp fabric to tease you.  “words, baby.”

“yeah,” you breathe, barely able to form the word.  “please, jey.”

he grins against your skin, kissing you again as his fingers slip between your thighs, parting your lower lips easily. he groans softly at how wet you are, dragging his fingers through your slick folds with a slow, deliberate touch that makes your head fall back against the seat.

“look at you,” he mutters, voice thick with praise.  “so fuckin’ wet for me and I ain’ even taste her yet.”

you whimper, hips bucking against his hand, and he chuckles low in his throat, loving how desperate you are for him.

“you gon’ let me taste her, mama?” he asks, already pulling back enough to maneuver between your legs, carefully leaning over the gear shift so he’s fully in your space.

you don’t even have time to respond before he’s tugging your skirt and panties down, throwing them carelessly into the back seat.  his hands are on your thighs, spreading you wide, your pussy exposed, and glistening for his eyes only.

jey doesn’t hesitate. he dives in, tongue skillfully dragging through your silky folds with a hunger that leaves you breathless, thighs trembling. he eats you like your pussy is the lifeline that is keeping him alive, switching between sucking your clit and fucking your tight quivering hole with his tongue, the sounds are lewd and obscene which only heightens the pleasure for you two.

“s-hit,” you moan, fingers tangling in his hair as your hips grind your cunt against his mouth. he groans in response, the vibration of it making you cry out, the pressure building fast and sharp between your thighs.

“that's it sweetheart,” he murmurs between licks, his voice dripping with praise.  “you taste so sweet, baby. missed this pussy so much.”

you’re close—so close you can feel the knot tightening in your abdomen. your thighs clamp around his head, sputtering expletives and jey doesn’t let up, gripping your hips to keep you right where he wants you.

“come on, mama,” he urges, voice rough and low against you. “make a mess on me.”

that’s all it takes. your orgasm crashes over you, and you cry, back arching as you ride the wave of pleasure, jey holding you through it, his tongue relentless against your clit until you’re shaking, begging him to stop.

but he doesn’t.  he grins up at you, wicked and smug, and keeps going, sending you spiraling into another orgasm before you can even catch your breath.

“j-jey! w..wa-ait” you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body shakes with overstimulation.

“shhh, I got you,” he soothes, but his grin says otherwise—more like he loves seeing you fall apart for him, that he’s the only one who can make you feel like this.

and when he finally pulls back, lips and beard glistening with your juices, he leans in close, brushing his mouth against yours.

“you good, baby?” he asks, soft and playful, like he wasn’t worshipping you in between your thighs moments earlier.

all you could do is nod, breathless, and he kisses you again, allowing you to taste the sweet tanginess of yourself on his lips and tongue.

jey pulls back from the kiss, eyes heavy-lidded, but that cocky  grin of his never fades. he leans back in the driver’s seat, hands casually resting on the curve of your thighs, spreading them just enough to tease you with his gaze.  the warmth of your release is still causing your pussy to throb, but it’s not enough to fully satiate your lust. and with the way jey is gazes at you, he knows it too.

“come here, mama," jey murmurs, giving your thigh a quick slap. 

with a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, you shift over the console and climb into his lap.  you’re grateful for the roomy interior of the charger as you straddle him, thighs bracketing his hips.  he leans back, hands already roaming up your waist, under your top, squeezing at the soft globes of your breasts like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you.

“you comfy, baby?” he teases, palms pressing into your ass, grinding your bare pussy down against the thick bulge in his sweats. the friction makes both of you groan, and you can’t help the way your body moves on its own, rolling your hips against him.

jey bites his bottom lip, eyes locked on where you grind against him, the wet drag of your pussy staining the fabric of his sweats.  “fuck," he mutters, head falling back against the seat.  “you gon’ ride me just like that?  huh, baby?  make a mess all over me?"

you grin, the pressured heat between your legs building again.  “you always did like it messy.”

his fingers dig into your hips as he presses himself up against you, just enough to make you gasp.  “you know I like you,” he says, voice rough.  “always did."

the words hit you deep—more than they should—and for a second, the weight of them hangs in the air between you.  but you’re not here to talk about feelings, and jey knows it too.

he shifts under you, hand slipping down to stroke himself through his sweats.  “c’mon, baby.  take care of daddy.”

you slide a hand between your bodies, finding the waistband of his sweats and boxers, tugging them down just enough to free him. his cock springs free, thick and already leaking precum, and the sight of it causes you to slightly drool.  you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasing, loving the way his breath stutters beneath you.

“damn, mama,” he groans, his grip tightening on your hips.  “you tryna kill me?”

you smile mischievously.  “maybe.” but you don’t play around with him—this isn’t about teasing, not tonight.

you lift yourself up, lining him up with your entrance, and he watches you with brown, half-lidded eyes, pink lips parted as he waits for you to sink down on him.  and when you do, the pleasurable stretch steals both of your breaths.

“fuck, baby,” jey groans, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as you take him inch by inch, slow and deliberate.  “that’s it...fuckin' perfect. you always take me so good, mama."

the praise hits you like a drug, making you moan as you bottom out, his cock buried deep inside you. you pause for a moment, adjusting to the stretch, and jey's hands roam your body like he can’t get enough of you—palming your ass, squeezing your waist, his thumbs brushing the curve of your breasts under your top.

“look at you," he murmurs, voice thick and filled with something dangerously close to awe. “this pussy was made just for me, huh?"

you roll your hips, slow and deliberate, grinding down on him until he curses under his breath, head falling back against the seat again.  “uh huh,” you whisper, leaning in close to kiss behind his ear, sucking on the lobe.  “all yours, daddy.”

the growl that rumbles from his chest is damn near primal. his hands grip your hips hard, guiding you into a rhythm that’s slow and heavenly, each roll of your hips dragging him deeper into you. the air between you is thick with heat, every breath shared, every moan swallowed by the other’s mouth as you kiss again, messy and uncoordinated.

“that’s it, baby," he groans, breaking the kiss to suck a mark into your neck.  “fuck yourself on me. just like that. good fucking girl.”

you gasp as his teeth graze your skin, the sharp sensation shooting straight to your swollen clit. as if he can read your body, his hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with expert precision, circling it in time with the roll of your hips.

“cum for me again, mama,” he murmurs, voice low and coaxing.  “lemme feel you cum on this dick.”

you can’t hold back—not with the way he’s filling you so perfectly, not with the way his thumb works your clit like it’s second nature, and certainly not with how the head of his cock presses deliciously against your g spot. your orgasm hits you fast and hard, your whole body tensing as you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as you gush all over him.

“that’s my good girl," jey groans, grinding up into you as your warm gummy walls clamp down around him.  “makin’ a mess all over this dick.”

you’re still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax when jey’s grip on your hips tightens, and suddenly he’s fucking up into you, chasing his own release with rough, desperate thrusts causing you to whine.

“uh uh, take it, baby,” he growls through gritted teeth, hands locked on your hips as he drives into you, relishing in your choked sobs.  “gon' fill this pussy up.  you want that, honey? want me to cum in daddy’s pussy?”

“y-yessss,” you mewl, head burying itself in his neck as you grind against him, every nerve in your body on fire.  “please, daddy. cum in me please.”

the sound he makes is beautiful as he slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills his warm thick load into you, flooding your womb with his seed.

“shit,” he mutters, chest heaving, forehead falling to rest against your shoulder as you both catch your breath.

for a moment, the only sound in the car besides a song playing on low volume is the harsh rhythm of your breathing, the scent of sweat and sex mingling with the lingering haze of smoke.

you stay like that for a while, tangled together, your body still humming from the high of it all. jey’s hands roam lazily over your back, soothing, grounding, bringing you back down to earth and you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

eventually, he presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder, grinning against your skin.  “told you I missed you girl.”

you laugh, breathless and light, brushing a hand through his hair.  “you’re so dumb.”

jey leans back just enough to look at you, his grin wide and boyish, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart skip.  “yeah, but you love my dumbass.”

and damn it, he’s right.

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[phone4pills]

DEAR SANTA DAY 1

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ slow’s advent calendar! no warnings apart from some venting, don’t try this btw, stranger danger

You felt so stupid when you dropped your letter in the postbox. Your friends had dared you to write a Christmas wish list and mail it to a random address in a random state. You’d spun a wheel and landed on Massachusetts. So you’d written your letter to a random home there, in Boston specifically. And you’d drawn pretty pink and red bows on the envelope, hoping whoever received it would like them. At first it didn’t seem like a huge deal but now that you were actually stood in front of the crimson post box, no way to turn back time and get your letter out of the pile, your nerves were spiking off the chart.

You took a deep breath, shoving your hand a back into the pockets of your coat and walked away, deciding that you wouldn’t look back at that darned post box, only following the snowy trail ahead of your feet.

Four days later - Sturniolo’s Home

Matt hurried downstairs towards the sound of the doorbell. The rest of his family had left the house to buy Christmas secret santa gifts for each other. He’d already ordered his online for Chris. A cameo from one of his favourite celebrities and a chain with his name on it. He also had a Lego set in his room that he’d been meaning to give his brother, so he would add that in too.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find a postman with an envelope addressed to their house but nobody specifically. It was nicely decorated with some bows on the back so it wasn’t something serious like bills or anything to do with a business. And there was no parcel with it. Only the envelope. He thanked the postman and closed the door, almost scared to unveil what was inside.

The envelope sat on his desk for a few hours. And he stared at it. Longer and longer. Until the corners began to curve and he was seeing multiple shades in the plain white folded paper. He wanted to wait for Chris and Nick to get home so they could open it together. But the temptation was eating away at him. And he couldn’t resist anymore, reaching across the room to grab it and settling down on the end of his bed.

His fingers played with the opening for a bit until he eventually tore the envelope open and pulled out a folded bit or cream card. A deep breath racked through Matt’s throat as he unfolded the piece and read the note.

Dear Santa,

Whoever you may be, I hope you’re having a great time these holidays. I’ve never been the biggest fan of this time of year but I promised myself I’d be more outgoing so I’m writing this to you, Santa Stranger, hoping you’ll read it someday, preferably before Christmas.

I really wish for good grades in college this year and success in the future so the job I work to pay off my student loans is all worth it. I hope that I can finally buy the camera I’ve had my eye on for a while and take capture loads of memories with my friends, and my grandma because she’s getting older and I always want her with me.

But most of all, I hope that Christmas this year feels as magical as it was when I was a kid. The lead up to the holidays is always so exciting but I feel like I keep getting let down now that I’m older. I hope that this Christmas can be different, enchanting.

I admit, I have yet to buy presents for a lot of people. Especially the boys and men in my life. I swear it’s so hard to shop for the male population. If by any chance you might have some ideas, I’d appreciate them. That’s in the scenario that this reaches you in time and you can get it back to me before the 24th, which I kind of really hope it does.

That’s all for now. Until next time, Santa.

- Signed, Elf

A grin spread across Matt’s face and his eyebrows, that were previously knitted together, softened. He was ultimately in awe, unable to deny how genius he thought the whole scheme was. And he wondered what the chances were that this ended up at his house, of all the houses in America. He found your address on the back of the slip and made a start writing his letter back as quickly as he could.

He’d been meaning to talk to someone about Christmas in more depth. He’d talked about it a little bit with his brothers on their YouTube channel during the lead up to the winter season, but he’d never truly gotten to express how he felt about the time of year. And now he was given a perfect opportunity. There were no ties to it. No judgment. Only honesty, and he liked that.

Three days later - Your Home

You’d received a green envelope in your postbox with smiley faces drawn all over it. Instantly, you knew what it was. You’d almost completely forgotten about the message you’d shipped off previously and had your doubts about it being returned.

Hurriedly, you ran across the hallway and threw yourself down on the couch, giving your cat a few head rubs before peeling open the casing around a piece of white card.

Dear Elf,

I wish you’d seen my face when I opened your letter. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t frightful when I was handed the envelope. The bows are really pretty by the way, you must be a good doodler. I doodle a lot too, especially when I’m feeling particularly anxious about things.

Speaking of relations and similarities, I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s had a good few thoughts on Christmas this year, and the last few. Maybe some magical force directed your message to me so I’d have somewhere to write down all of my thoughts. I’d have someone to tell without the weight of being judged in person.

I’m not that good at writing if you couldn’t tell already but I’m trying my best. I hope this year’s holiday season is like a breath of fresh air from all of the stress that’s polluting my life. I feel like I just need to feel free to feel Christmas. And I’m grateful for all I have of course, but it’d be nice to get away from all of the hate and negativity that comes with it.

About college, I never actually went but I wish the best for you. You should tell me about it. And be honest, I want to know all the details. I don’t have much time before my parents and my brother get home but before I forget, women are ten times harder to shop for than men!

Anyway, I got my brother a silver chain with his name on it and a cameo for secret Santa this year. I’m also throwing a Lego set in there. I don’t know if that’s helpful in any way, but it’s all the knowledge I have to offer. At the end of the day, any gift is a gift in the end. And it will be appreciated.

I wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope that all of your wishes come true. I think everybody needs a little bit of holiday magic this winter. Please do keep writing back to me if it’s possible. I’ve been needing something like this without even knowing.

Can’t wait to hear back. Until next time, my Elf.

- Signed, Santa

Thanks for reading ! There will be a Chris fic to come on the 3rd. Meanwhile, I have something else planned for tomorrow my lovelies. And a warm welcome to Slow’s Advent Calendar everyone.

- ©phone4pills

[suksatoru]

" 'cause I don't want to be in love with another, even in another life."

Keigo loved you as Icarus loved the sun—too close, too much.

The story of Icarus is a greek myth. One where Icarus made his own wings and was warned of the impending dangers of the sun. He ignored them and flew near it anyway—burning his wings before falling to his death.

hawks x reader & slight dabi x reader

warning; this may be the best piece of fiction i have ever written

Keigo didn't know where exactly he was walking to.

All he knew was that he was on break. As a boy who had just freshly turned sixteen, he was working full time to become one of the greatest hero's to live. It was his dream, one he would work hard to fulfill no matter what it took

He's walking through an unfamiliar neighborhood. It was...a lot like the one he grew up in when he was younger. While this one didn't seem necessarily dangerous, the run down houses and poorly taken care of lawns indicated this wasn't a wealthy area like the ones he was slowly beginning to become accustomed to with his new lifestyle.

But there are children running and playing around, adults sitting on their porches and chatting as they smoke. It was different than what he once knew. He wonders if maybe his old neighborhood is like this now—more open. More free, where people could roam the streets without fear

He almost didn't hear you at first. His steps were optimistic and a little quicker than they usually were as he walked down the sidewalk. He lifted one of his wings to cover his gaze from the relentless sun that beat down on Japan. He almost passed the small sound he heard as an animal scurrying by, but he heard it again—a quiet whimper that suddenly sounded a lot more human.

His footsteps slow in front of the dark alley, and he carefully side steps to enter it. He sees you almost immediately, with your knees pulled to your chest, fingers tugging harshly at the strands of your matted hair as you held your head in your hands

"Hey," He quickly said, kneeling down onto the dirty ground completely as he sits beside you. His eyes are worried as his heart beats faster at your state. What happened to you to have you sitting outside and all alone like this? You couldn't be older than him, maybe you were younger—he decides you're the same age as him when your wide eyes meet his. The look on your face was similar to an animal that had been kicked down too many times, and you instantly push your feet in front of you and backed yourself into the brick wall behind you when you heard his voice

You're almost embarrassed to meet his gaze. I mean, a boy your age was crouching down in front of you during the absolute worst time possible and looking at you with a boyish grin that was too kind for your heart to take. He was dressed in odd clothes you've never seen before, majestic red wings twitching in anticipation behind him as he looks at you with gentle eyes—a striking hue of gold that captivated you in an instant

"Who are you?"

Your voice comes out rougher than you intended it to, strained and hoarse from crying too much as your fingers press into the concrete beneath you. You know you're a mess right now—eyes red and cheeks puffy, clothes tattered and blood smearing your arms from being hit too many times. But Keigo doesn't look at you with any less kindness than he would to a bunny

"I'm Hawks! A hero in training, who's here to save people just like yourself," He smiles, moving to sit beside you as rests his strong back against the wall. His frame was a lot larger than yours and you stiffen beside him, a rare form of envy forming in your stomach as you realize this well put together boy sitting beside you probably got three meals a day judging by the size of his muscles and happy grin—he was far too cheerful for you right now, and you simply didn't have the energy or strength to deal with it

"Please leave me alone." You mumble quietly, discreetly wiping your previous tears with your knuckle. He's quiet for a moment, before he starts speaking again, quieter this time

"It's okay. I know it's bad right now—but I can help. Tell me, dont'cha think these wings can fight off whatever’s hurting you?" He huffs, standing up suddenly to his full height as he spreads his wings out behind him—a show of power. You can see his pearly white teeth poke through his charming smile, and he holds his arms out as he looks down at you

You let out a huff of laughter unlike yourself, your lips forming a wobbly smile as you slowly nod your head

"Unfortunately there's nothing you can really do to help me. I'm...kinda hopeless."

He smiles at your words. A feeling of trepidation prickles at your skin hotly as you prepare to be made fun of. You can already imagine what his taunting laugh would sound like when you suddenly feel a heavy wing wrap around your frail shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug, sitting back beside you on the ground

Your shoulder bumps against his as he pulls you into his side, and Keigo's smile falters when he sees how alarmed you are by the simple gesture. He loosens his hold on you just the slightest bit before sending you an apologetic smile

"You know, the only way out of hard times is through them. Trust me. Why don't you get up and come with me?" He smiles, and the sight of it takes your breath away

The sun was setting over your neighborhood. You had no one who loved you to go back to, no one who would care if you were gone forever

But here, six pm on what had begun as any other day, came your savior. A boy with a smile as golden as his eyes. He was devastatingly beautiful—and he reminded you quite a bit of an angel. He looked and behaved just like one, and you realize he was one.

Keigo watches your hands play with the broken fabric of your sleeve as you stare into his eyes. Your hand twitches as you reach it out towards him, before ultimately curling into a fist as you place it in your lap

He can see the hesitation in your eyes. You had just realized how dirty your hands were, calloused from going unloved and dirty from digging your fingers into the dirt mere hours earlier when you were crying

He uncurls your fist, intertwining his fingers with yours before squeezing gently—his fingers tainted in a quick instant as he grins

He had a really boyish smile. And full cheeks, ones that were like apples whenever he smiled. You squeeze his hand back as he tugs you up to stand

The sun is setting in the horizon, catching his eyes and wisps of beautiful blonde hair in its rays as he walks with you, hand in hand.

You will forever remember the following years of your life with Keigo, the boy who had taken care of you when the world had turned their back

The Hero Public Safety Commission. That was the organization Keigo worked for. You entered the facility with him, gawked at by all the employees who worked there. The walk across the building began as a long one with all the stares you were receiving, but Keigo wrapped a single wing around you to hide you from their gaze

In a matter of months you were implemented into the same program as him. Side by side, you and Keigo became friends.

You've never had a friend, and neither had he. You were slowly introduced and implemented into a new society, one that shined brighter and warmer than the darkness you had grown up in

Keigo was a beacon of hope for you. Slowly, the two of you became a tangible thing. One never caught without the other. From training together to getting your licenses, you slowly built a new life for yourself with him.

The past was slowly being forgotten. The dark times you'd spent cowering under your own parents disappearing as they slowly wasted away—just like all you had ever known.

Keigo made you forget those things. He brought you closer and closer to his heart—allowing you to understand and see what love was like. You unknowingly had done the same for him, teaching Keigo Takami the gentleness of true love.

But you didn't have time actively pursue a relationship with him. While the words were unspoken, the love between the two of you was strong and braided into your very being

"Y/n."

Keigo lays a casual arm around your shoulder, peering around before pressing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek that has you leaning away from him with a groan. Now freshly eighteen, Keigo had grown into an adult. His younger features remained, but they were sharper now. He had grown taller and packed impressive muscle over the years, growing into an admirable hero.

"Gross. Lay off, birdie." You muse, tilting away from him with a heartfelt smile as he laughs loudly

You had grown up too. Your first few days with Keigo were nothing but eye opening. Suddenly, you had a warm meal placed in front of you and someone to share it with. He made sure you went to bed every night with a full stomach, helping you grow into your figure and get stronger

As an emerging hero, you were right behind Keigo, forever holding his hand as he paved a path for the two of you with nothing but determination in those beautiful eyes of his

"We got a mission to go on. Think you're ready for this one? We gotta take down a reallll bad villain." He teases, removing his arm from your shoulder as he slides into the seat across from you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and you try and avert your eyes from the way his muscles flexed under his compression tee

"When have I ever chickened out of a mission? Are you ready, Hawks?"

Keigo likes it when you say his hero name like that. It rolls off your tongue nicely, stirring something deep within him with joy

"Born ready. Now come on, we can hit the movies after this mission if we finish early!"

You smile, unknowing of what fate had in store for you and him

The two of you are transported throughout Japan on the usual camouflaged vehicle, going to the villain's reported hideout as you look over his records and files in your hands. Apparently, this villain was one who'd been stealing medicine from all sorts of hospital facilities and wreaking havoc in his trail as he did—reports showed he may plan on reselling them for outrageous prices abroad.

After reviewing the geography of the area, the van rolls to a stop, giving you and Keigo your signal to get out and begin

Breaking in was easier than you thought it would be, but the building was far bigger than you'd anticipated. It would take hours to go through each room and collect the necessary evidence

"All right then, let's split up." Keigo proposes, tightening his grip on the small walkie talkie attached to his hip as you turn to him in surprise

"Split up? But..isn't that a little risky for a mission like this?" You question, hoping he doesn't catch the hesitation in your voice as you utter the words

He looks up. He'd caught the shift in your voice and understood how you felt immediately—he always did.

"Usually yeah, but I got a good feeling about today! Plus, I wanna finish this quickly so I can take us somewhere nice after the movies..." He says, trailing off with a soft grin as he suddenly hooks his finger in the loop of your jeans—pulling you closer to him.

The action has your breath hitching in your throat before you see his hands quickly move to your walkie talkie, working on changing the settings so the SOS button was more accessible. You take a quick and steadying breath before letting out a huff, grumbling profanities under your breath and going on about how he scared you as he laughs

He lets go of your waist once he's all done, looking around the dusty room with attentive eyes

"I'd send one of my feathers with you so I know where you are, but I don't want it to catch unnecessary attention. That's why I tweaked our walkies a bit. You take the left wing and I'll take the right one, so we meet in the middle. Think you can do that, Y/n?" He smirks as you roll your shoulders, sending back an equally amused grin.

"Let's see who gets to the middle first." You say, and his eyes light up at the sound of your challenge

"It's on! Loser does the paperwork summary of the mission!" He yells over his shoulder as his wings flap above you, with one last grin—he flies down the hall and turns towards the right wing with immeasurable speed

You take off the moment after he does, skidding to a stop in front of every door you came across before efficiently checking through them for evidence or trace of the villain

Your mission's main objective was catching the villain—as for all the medicines he'd stolen, they'd be collected by the higher ups soon after.

Most of the rooms were empty. Mainly filled with sparse bookshelves coated with dust as you checked for slots in the walls or anywhere something may be hidden. You wonder if Keigo's found anything before you see a dim light coming from one of the rooms down the hall

Your footsteps are stealthy and silent as you slowly approach the room with caution, your hand held out and ready to activate your quirk at any given moment

A shift of movement from inside confirms your suspicions, and you immediately corner the threat, shoving them hard and driving their back into the wall of the small room

A man that must've been in his mid forties stares at you slack jawed, eyes blown out in terror as a small grunt leaves his throat from where your knee was pushing into his stomach

"Don't move. Stay still so I can take the necessary procedures to take you into custody, sir." You say cooly

This man was keeping hundred of patients from receiving the medicine and care they deserved. The thought flared a spark of anger in you—you were young, just eighteen and filled with a lot of emotion. That's the only reason you pushed your knee further into him as a small, strangled sound leaves his throat

No. Not his throat, from behind you.

Someone else was here.

Your grip on him loosens as you whip around, a scowl on your face for you own stupidness for not confirming how many people you could come across

A small girl lays on a dinky hospital bed, her eyes angry as she glares at you. She couldn't be much older than five, but the look on her face has you loosening your grip on what you'd soon learn is her father

The truth of the situation dawns on you as you look between the father-daughter duo. Multiple IV's and lines were hooked up to her, and her heart rate monitor began to beep rapidly

"Let him go! Let my papa go!"

She's crying, her little chest unable to deal with her racking sobs as your eyes soften

"It's ok, I'm just—"

She suddenly lets out a wail, and you realize the man under you has started crying as well when you feel something wet on your palm. His chest is shuddering from his quiet and pained cries, and you kneel beside him with your heart beating erratically

You weren't taught to deal with this. You were trained how to fight if a villain has murderous intent, you were trained to deal with villains who had long range weapons—but you were never trained for anything like this.

"P-Please stop crying." You whisper, not sure if you're directing it to the little girl or the father

There's shouting in the hallway, and the man stills under you at the menacing sound as the little girl freezes, her small frame shaking with terror as she continued mumbling her father's name over and over again

What was the Commission doing here? They shouldn't be here—this was a mission for only Keigo and you. They enter with large guns, and suddenly the girl is wailing all over again as one of them rams the end of their weapon into the back of her father

You yelp, kicking the Commission worker away hard as you quickly catch the girl's father

"He surrendered! He surrendered, stop it!"

The man looks at you through his mask in confusion before Hawk's suddenly bursts into the small room—his eyes quickly locating you as a relieved sigh leaves his lips

He strides across the room an encases you in a tight hug, before pulling back and looking all over your body for any signs of injuries

"Are you all right? No injuries? No—"

"Did you call them?" You speak, baffled and bewildered as he nods

"You didn't your answer your walkie–dammit I called you eight times, Y/n!"

You still at the memory of you turning down its volume when you were approaching the room. You had meant to turn it back on once you'd gotten the threat under control, but....

"I'm...I'm sorry." You speak, but your apology doesn't sound sincere at all. Your eyes are wide and distracted as they haul the limp man out of the room. The little girl cries softly now as one of the men carefully bring her out too

Keigo pays no attention to either of them—his gaze focused solely on you and beyond worried

"You can't turn it off like that. I thought—I thought—"

He wraps you in a sudden hug, the sound of the workers exiting the room swiftly leaving the two of you standing in silence

Slowly, his breathing evens out as you wrap your arms around him loosely, before tightening them

"He was stealing medicine for his daughter. She was sick, Kei." You whisper, and Keigo knows your mind is scattered when you mistakingly utter his real name

He sighs, cradling your face in his large palms

"Look at me."

You do. But your mind can't help but think of the little girl's sickly state. So much like yours when you were younger. She was pale and too skinny. And something shifts in your gaze as Keigo holds you

"He still stole. It was wrong, but...I understand you're upset. You need to understand he put hundred of other people's lives at risk. That's not ok." He mumbles, gliding his thumb over your cheek as you lean into his touch

"I..."

He shakes his head, knowing you weren't ready to talk as he takes your hand and squeezes it reassuringly

"We'll talk about this later, all right?"

You nod, thankful for the distraction

You never did get to have that talk with him. If only Keigo knew how much this mission would effect you. If only. He would cradle your face for hours and tell you to let it all out—but he didn't. He thought he was doing the right thing when he didn't push you to speak your thoughts

That day was the beginning of the end.

Keigo didn't know when he had begun to lose you. All he knew was that it started slow, growing over the years before the hand he used to hold was suddenly too far out of reach for him to grasp—

He watches the news play on the big TV screens as he stands in the middle of his agency, a crowd gathering around him to watch as well as they murmur their shock and disapproval

Your face was plastered among the League's, your eyes devoid of the light he had once lit as the words WANTED blare alarmingly on the bottom of the screen

It was just yesterday when he asked you out on a date for the first time

"I'm tired, Keigo."

He had been laying on the edge of your bed, his usual smile faltering as he gently squeezes your calf

"I know—that's why I want to take your mind off of everything! You know, we haven't been able to hang out much. I know you're busy with whatever you're doing, so...I thought it'd be good for us."

You've never wanted to kiss him so badly. He was out of his usual hero attire, laying at the foot of your bed with that same smile from all those years ago. Except this time, you don't take the hand he's offering you

"How about another time? I just...need to rest for a bit, ya'know?" You try smiling, and he quickly nods

"That's ok—I'll wait for you. Even if I'm an old, crippled man by the end of it." He jokes, standing up and pressing a quick kiss onto your forehead before he turns to leave

You want to tug him back, tell him everything on your mind and how you're unraveling right in front of him—but he gives you one last smile before closing the door

That was the night you met up with the notorious Dabi who promised to help you.

You had stared at the answer on your anonymous question with a sense of fulfillment taking place of the dread that was once in your chest. After posting the thread where you voiced your feelings on society and how stuck you were—a stranger offered you a role too good to not check out.

Imagine both you and Dabi's surprise when you'd first met.

He had bewitched you the same way Keigo—Hawks—had done all those years ago. Promising you a brighter future if you joined him to fight his cause

His piercing gaze softened a degree by the end of his meaningful conversation with you. Dabi had found someone worthy. A perfect addition to the League—just what he was looking for.

"I love you."

You'd never spoken the words to Keigo before. But with Dabi—your heart burned as bright as his flames. Maybe it would be reduced to ashes by the end of your time with him. But you didn't care.

Dabi's fingers pause from where they were trailing down your cheek, before he smashes his lips into yours

As the League became more and more well known, you and Dabi's romantic relationship did too.

It was true love for Dabi. But was it true love for you?

You weren't in the right headspace. But he didn't care. Dabi took advantage of it, making you solely his in the process. Consuming you and your noble thoughts the way smoke engulfed clean air

Some nights, you'd watch Keigo's recent interviews when you were alone. He'd lost his spark, the light in his eyes you loved to see so much.

You knew it was your fault. But the world was crumbling around you, and you couldn't bring yourself to fix it.

The Commission and Agency marked you up as their one and only failure. Maybe it wouldn't have happened if they hadn't killed the little girl's father after slamming him with criminal charge after charge.

If they had just listened.

Dabi listened to your mindless chatter all the time. Threading his rough palm through your hair as you told him how much you were growing to hate the world. Even when he made love to you, he whispered in your ear how he'd make a better world just for you. His initial plans of destroying it all had flourished into building something a new—like a phoenix rising from the ashes. All for you.

The war came quicker than you wanted it to.

You told yourself you were ready to face Keigo—to help AFO take down your best friend and everything you'd once known.

AFO never sensed any hesitation from you, nor did he sense any hatred. But on the battlefield, as he lifted Hawks into the air by his neck—something in the air shifted.

Hatred and fury like no other surged through it. And your attack came raining down on him like a gunship. No other hero was able to inflict the amount of damage you did, all because it was so unexpected and strong.

It was the sight of your Keigo about to get his wings taken away that awoke something inside of you you'd thought had been burned

You could see the intent in AFO's eyes—his lips curling into a malicious and disgusting grin as he gripped Hawk's throat and stared at his wings.

The same red wings that sixteen year old boy used to shield you.

You're able to get AFO down for about a minute, dread filling your stomach when the realization that he would kill you when he'd wake up hits you

Keigo is barely able to sit up, so weak and so bloodied but so in love, he croaks your name with a desperation like never before.

You're by his side in an instant, your wet tears washing away the dirt on your face as you cradle his face in your lap, kissing him all over softly and murmuring the word sorry over and over

Everything hurts. He wants to yell at you—tell you how you broke his heart when you left. Shattered his resolve and took the remnants of his kid self with you

But war was a tragic thing, and before he could tell you it was ok, or that he was sorry too, or even just that he loved you—

He was met with a hue of blood similar to the color of his wings being splattered all over him as All For One sunk one of Keigo's stray feathers into your back, effectively ending it all as Keigo watched the life drain from your eyes

Keigo Takami was never the same after that day.

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (5)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 6.6k

A/n: Gonna give yall two chaps today cause im cool like that- mind you this a very long fic and just hang on for the ride lol. Enjoy<3

________________________________

The dimly lit underground space smelled of sweat and leather, the rhythmic sound of fists hitting the heavy bag the only thing that filled the silence. Vi’s movements were sharp, precise, every punch an expression of her frustration and focus. Her usual intensity was replaced with something different today—something unresolved. She grunted as her knuckles hit the bag, sweat dripping down her brow. But then the door to the training room creaked open, and Jinx stepped inside with Isha at her side.

Vi paused, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes fell on Jinx first, noting the tension in her stance, how her usually wild energy seemed subdued, tightly wound up. Isha stood quietly beside her, confusion and concern written all over the girl’s small face.

“Jinx,” Vi said, her voice low, though her eyes were focused on the two. “What’s going on?”

Jinx didn’t answer right away. She walked toward Vi, and as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, Isha’s hand brushed her arm—silent, but a comforting touch. Jinx glanced down at the child, and then, with a heavy sigh, she spoke.

“Caitlyn shot her,” she muttered under her breath, her words dripping with raw emotion. “She tried to kill her… and I—”

The words caught in her throat. The rage she felt toward Caitlyn bubbled under the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. Her breathing grew shallow as she gripped the nearest surface, trying to steady herself.

Vi’s face contorted with confusion. “Caitlyn did what?”

“She shot her, Vi. I… I couldn’t stop it in time,” Jinx’s voice cracked, and the vulnerability in her tone took Vi by surprise. She wasn’t used to seeing Jinx like this—so raw, so exposed.

Isha, simply stared, her eyes flicking between Vi and Jinx, her face scrunched in confusion. She had heard bits of the conversation, but there was so much she didn’t understand. Why was Caitlyn shooting at someone she cared about? And why was Jinx so shaken?

Vi let out a long breath, trying to process what Jinx had just said. “That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered. “Why would Caitlyn shoot someone she… she cares about?”

The words that followed slipped out of Vi’s mouth before she could stop them. “She’s in love with them, isn’t she?” The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and unexpected.

Jinx’s breath hitched, and Isha’s eyes widened, her hands curling in confusion.

“You’re telling me Caitlyn is in love with her?” Jinx’s voice trembled, though there was a fire burning in her chest now. It was as if everything was unraveling before her eyes, but she couldn’t piece it together.

Vi froze, her mind suddenly catching up to her words. She looked up at Jinx, realizing the weight of what she had just said. “Wait, I—what I meant was, you know, she’s always… you know, been protective of her. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The way she—” Vi stammered, suddenly realizing she had just opened a door that was better left closed.

Jinx stood there, her body rigid, her gaze fixed on Vi, her thoughts racing. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to release the anger she had buried deep inside, but instead, her fists clenched at her sides. Caitlyn’s in love with you? Her mind couldn’t wrap around it. It didn’t make sense. Not with everything that had happened.

Why didn’t you tell me, then? Jinx thought, the question gnawing at her. She felt a wave of confusion and betrayal surge inside her—betrayal from herself and from Caitlyn.

Isha, still standing silently, seemed to pick up on Jinx’s turmoil, her hands reaching up to gently tug at her sleeve. It was as though Isha was trying to anchor Jinx, to bring her back down from the storm swirling in her mind.

Jinx couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her chest tightened as she began to speak again, her voice raw with emotion. “She—Caitlyn—could’ve killed her, Vi. And for what? Because she’s in love with her? Or is it because she was willing to do whatever it took to keep me away from her? How could she do that to someone she loves?” The words seemed to burn in Jinx’s throat, every sentence an accusation, every breath filled with fury.

Jinx’s mind was a hurricane now, swirling with conflicting emotions. Love, betrayal, fear—all of it was tangled together, and she couldn’t untangle it. Her heart pounded in her chest as the pieces began to fall into place, each one slipping deeper into a pit of confusion. How could you do this to someone you love, Caitlyn?

Vi, seeing the storm in Jinx’s eyes, tried to calm her down. “Look, we’re going to figure this out. Caitlyn’s going to come by later tonight. She wanted to talk—”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed, and before Vi could finish, she shook her head, cutting her off. “I don’t care about what she wants to say, Vi,” she snapped. “I need to find her, and I need to find her now.”

Her words were heavy with urgency, with a primal rage that burned through her. She needed answers. She needed to confront Caitlyn, to demand an explanation. But she wasn’t sure what kind of explanation she wanted—or how she’d react to it.

Vi stood there, stunned by Jinx’s outburst. She hadn’t seen this side of her before, not in such an intense way. It was more than anger—it was the raw vulnerability of someone who had been hurt, who had been betrayed by the person they trusted.

Jinx’s chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing, the emotional storm still churning within her. She didn’t want to feel this way—didn’t want to be vulnerable. But everything had changed. And now, standing here, with the truth slamming into her all at once, she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I need to find her,” Jinx repeated, her voice softer now, but the edge was still there. She was scared—scared of what she might do, scared of the confrontation, scared of what it all meant. But more than that, she was afraid of the one thing she could never have: the truth about you, Caitlyn, and herself.

“I’ll go with you,” Vi said, placing a hand on Jinx’s shoulder, her tone serious but understanding.

Jinx nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, though she wouldn’t let herself fully break. Not now. Not until she had answers.

Isha’s small, silent presence remained at Jinx’s side as they prepared to leave. And though she couldn’t speak, Jinx could feel the weight of her support, her silent reassurance. But it didn’t stop the storm inside Jinx from raging.

𓇢𓆸

The air was thick and oppressive in the interrogation room, a suffocating silence that hung heavy in the grim, windowless space. The harsh lights overhead buzzed like they were hungry for something—or someone. You had no idea how long it had been since they’d brought you here, or how long you’d been enduring the blows. The only thing you were sure of was the pain, throbbing in every part of your body, and the blood that coated your skin, sticky and warm.

The last time you’d lifted your head, you’d found yourself met with Rictus’s massive fist, the world spinning as your skull cracked against the cold concrete. Your body barely reacted anymore to the pain—it had become numb to it.

The questions were simple at first, each one cutting through the haze of exhaustion and confusion. “How long have you worked on the weapon to blow up Piltover’s tower?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasped, breath shallow, heart pounding. You weren’t lying. You had no idea what they were accusing you of.

Another punch. Another wave of pain.

“How long have you worked with Jinx?” Rictus’s voice was like gravel, sharp and rough as he leaned closer, his breath foul as it hit your bruised skin.

“I’ve never worked with Jinx on anything like that!” you shouted, your voice barely audible, but it didn’t matter. The truth didn’t matter. Each denial only seemed to fuel his rage. Each “I don’t know” earned you another strike, another bruise, until you were sure your face was unrecognizable. Your lips were swollen, your eyes almost swollen shut, and blood ran down your neck, pooling on the floor beneath you. But you kept fighting it, kept holding onto the truth.

More hours passed—or was it days? Time didn’t seem real anymore. It was just you, the unrelenting blows, and the questions that wouldn’t stop. But then, a door creaked open, and you heard footsteps approaching. Your head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, but somehow, you managed to lift it, squinting your eyes through the pain.

Caitlyn stepped into the room, her expression as cold as the stone walls. The silence between you was thick, suffocating. You saw the anger in her eyes before she even said anything—cold, betrayed. And there was something else… something that felt like it could break both of you.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Caitlyn asked, her voice eerily calm, though you could feel the undercurrent of something darker beneath it. “Do you understand the betrayal you’ve caused? After everything… everything I did for you.”

Her words sliced through you, deep, cutting. Betrayal. The word felt like a jagged rock lodged in your chest.

“I didn’t… I didn’t do anything!” you croaked, your voice hoarse and weak. “You have to believe me, Caitlyn. I don’t know what’s going on, I—”

She cut you off with a sneer, taking a step closer, her eyes narrowed in pure contempt. “You played me, didn’t you? All this time… You were playing me. I trusted you. I cared for you. I loved you, and this is how you repay me?”

The word love hung in the air between you like an accusation. Caitlyn’s face twisted in pain, her emotions raw, but she still wouldn’t let go of her anger, not yet.

Your bloodied face turned toward her as much as you could, and with the little strength you had left, you looked up at her through swollen eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t do this… Please, Caitlyn, you have to believe me.”

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. It felt like the weight of the world was bearing down on both of you, suffocating the air in the room.

And then, the violence returned. Caitlyn’s anger flared, and with a fury that made your insides twist, she lashed out. Punch after punch, each one landing with more force, her hands shaking with the force of her betrayal. The blows were relentless, each one pushing you further into the abyss. You were wheezing now, gasping for air, your vision blurring from the pain.

But then, it stopped.

You could feel her presence lingering, but the blows had ceased. Your head rolled back, your consciousness fading in and out as you struggled to stay awake.

Caitlyn was looking at you now—her blue eyes softening as they met yours, catching something she hadn’t seen before. Her gaze lingered on you, and in that brief moment, something in her shifted. She saw you. And it broke her.

Her hands trembled, and the air around you grew thick with her conflict. She stumbled backward, unable to hold it together. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She turned on her heel, walking out of the room without another word, leaving you there, battered, confused, and alone.

The door slammed behind her, and you let out a shaky breath, trying to hold onto some shred of awareness.

But that was when you heard the voices. From outside the room, muffled voices.

“She’ll make a fine leader,” Ambessa’s voice was low, calculating. “This will only make her stronger.”

Rictus’s voice answered, gravelly as ever. “She’ll do whatever it takes. We’ve given her the papers she needs, the lies we’ve fed her… Caitlyn is already on her way to being the perfect weapon for Piltover.”

“She won’t see it at first,” Ambessa replied with a smirk that was audible in her voice, “But soon enough, she’ll understand. You just wait.”

You could feel your body going numb, slipping in and out of consciousness, but what echoed in your mind wasn’t just pain anymore—it was a sinking feeling of betrayal.

This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. You refused to believe this was your end. But Caitlyn… Caitlyn had seen you, seen your truth, and it hadn’t been enough.

𓇢𓆸

The cool metal of the interrogation room felt like a distant memory as you were dragged through the back of the building, your limbs weak and your body a mess of pain. You had no idea how much longer you could hang onto consciousness. Every breath felt like it was being ripped from you, and your vision was fading in and out. The cold air hit your face as you were roughly thrown into the alleyway behind the building.

An enforcer stood nearby, holding a rifle, his eyes cold as he stared down at you.

“Ambessa said to dispose of her,” the enforcer muttered, a cruel smile on his face as he looked at you, barely more than a broken body lying on the concrete. “You’re nothing but a liability now.”

The cold, emotionless words sent a chill down your spine, but you had no strength left to fight. It was over.

But just as they were about to end it all, a shadow moved swiftly across the alley, and then you heard a voice, dripping with sarcasm.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to be impressed?”

Before you could react, Sevika swooped in, her powerful form effortlessly dispatching the enforcer in a blur of movement. The harsh laughter that followed made your broken body feel like it was being carried by pure instinct. She was pulling you up, holding you steady in her strong arms.

“Good to see you’re still breathing. Can’t say the same for the guy who was just about to get you killed, though,” Sevika muttered, her voice tinged with something resembling care, though it was buried beneath layers of sarcasm.

She carried you swiftly through the shadows, and with a sharp, decisive motion, she slipped into the hidden pathways that led to Sevikas hideout. Her heavy boots echoed off the walls as she moved, but you barely had the strength to stay conscious. Your head lolled, your body numb.

“Jinx’s gonna love this,” Sevika grumbled under her breath, as if speaking to herself. She didn’t stop moving, and before you knew it, you were placed gently—if you could call it that—onto the worn couch in the corner of the rundown place.

You managed to force your eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of her. Your voice, hoarse and barely a whisper, escaped your cracked lips. “Are… are Jinx… and Isha… okay?”

Sevika paused, her expression unreadable as she looked at you. “They’re fine. You’re the one who’s a mess.” But there was a flicker of something in her eyes, something soft. “You should rest. You’ve had a hell of a day.”

And with that, your body finally gave in, and darkness claimed you.

𓇢𓆸

The tension in the room was electric, Caitlyn’s voice trembling as she poured out her anger. “She’s the reason my mother is dead, Vi. She helped make the weapon that destroyed the tower. She betrayed us, betrayed me!” Her pacing stopped abruptly, and she spun to face Vi, her blue eyes blazing with pain. “You knew her, didn’t you? You must have seen it—how could you not?”

Vi’s brow furrowed, her voice calm but tinged with confusion. “Cait, you’re not making sense. Y/n? She’s not the person you’re making her out to be.”

Caitlyn’s hands clenched into fists, her anger bubbling to the surface. “She fooled me, Vi! I cared about her, trusted her, and she betrayed me. I thought she was different.” Her voice broke as she added in a bitter whisper, “I loved her.”

The weight of those words seemed to hang in the air, startling even Vi. From her vantage point in the shadows, Jinx’s fists tightened, her nails digging into her palms as her anger simmered. Her heart ached at Caitlyn’s confession, but it was drowned out by her fury at the accusations.

“She made me believe in her, Vi,” Caitlyn continued, her tone sharper now. “And she helped make the weapon that took everything from me. She deserves to pay for what she’s done. Death is the only way—”

Jinx lunged from the shadows, her voice a feral roar as she tackled Caitlyn to the ground. “You don’t know a damn thing about her!” she yelled, her fists colliding with Caitlyn’s arm as the enforcer tried to shield herself. “You don’t get to say you loved her! Not after what you’ve done!”

“Jinx, stop!” Vi shouted, grabbing Jinx by the waist and attempting to pull her back.

Caitlyn, struggling beneath Jinx, spat back, “And you’re one to talk? You’re the one who turned her into this! You’re the reason she’s like this—broken, twisted, yours!”

The words struck a nerve. Jinx stilled for a brief moment before snarling, “You don’t get it! She was never part of your tower bombing! I didn’t even know her back then, and she sure as hell didn’t know me.”

Caitlyn froze at that, her breathing heavy. “What?”

Vi stepped in quickly, placing herself between them. “Jinx is telling the truth, Cait. Y/n wasn’t a part of that. She’s been with us for months now, but she wasn’t anywhere near you or the tower back then.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed as her mind raced to make sense of what she was hearing. “But Ambessa… She told me Y/n was involved. She gave me the reports. She told me—”

Vi’s voice was firm as she cut her off. “And you trusted her?” She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. “Think about it, Cait. Ambessa’s not exactly known for being trustworthy, especially when it comes to Zaun. You’ve been fed false information. She wasn’t involved in any of it.”

The room went silent as Caitlyn stood there, stunned, her world unraveling. “False information?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Jinx wiped at the blood on her lip and glared at Caitlyn. “Yeah. All lies. You shot her, tortured her, all because you believed what they told you. And you almost killed her for something she didn’t do.”

Caitlyn’s knees felt weak as the weight of her actions crashed over her. “No… that can’t be… I didn’t—”

“You did,” Vi said gently, but firmly. “You’ve been played, Cait. And now you have to make it right.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitched, tears welling in her eyes as she grappled with the truth. “What have I done?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Jinx stepped back, her rage simmering into bitter silence. She turned to leave, her mind racing with thoughts of you. Meanwhile, Vi stayed by Caitlyn’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not too late,” Vi said softly. “But you need to face what you’ve done—and figure out how to fix it.”

Caitlyn nodded faintly, but her heart felt hollow. The realization of what she had done to someone she claimed to care for would haunt her for a long time.

The knock at the door came sharp and urgent, cutting through the heavy silence in Vi’s apartment. Caitlyn, still reeling from the earlier confrontation, stepped outside to meet the enforcer. The man saluted her briefly before leaning in to speak in a low voice.

“Commander, we’ve got a situation,” he said, his tone grim. “A group of our enforcers was found unconscious near the termination bins in the industrial district. We believe it’s connected to Y/n.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching. “And? Did they—” She hesitated, unwilling to finish the question. “Did they go through with it?”

The enforcer shifted uncomfortably. “We… don’t know. When we arrived, there was no sign of her. The enforcers on-site were too disoriented to confirm anything. As far as we can tell, She wasn’t there anymore, dead or alive.”

Caitlyn’s heart sank as a cold wave of guilt and dread washed over her. The thought of you being terminated—it was unbearable. Yet a flicker of hope sparked in her chest. Could she have escaped?

“She’s not… anywhere?” Caitlyn asked, her voice wavering slightly despite her effort to sound composed.

The enforcer shook his head. “No, Commander. We’ve launched a perimeter search, but there’s no trace of her.”

Caitlyn clenched her fists at her sides, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through her—guilt, relief, and uncertainty. She dismissed the enforcer with a curt nod and turned back toward Vi’s home, her mind racing. She knew in her gut you were alive. You had to be. But how? And where?

From the corner of the room, Jinx had been listening, her body stiff and tense as the conversation played out. When she heard the words no trace, it hit her like a freight train. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, clutching her arms around herself.

“No, no, no,” Jinx murmured under her breath, her voice trembling as her mind spiraled. The fear clawed at her chest, suffocating her. “They… they took her. She’s gone. I should’ve—”

Vi was at her side in an instant, crouching down and gripping her shoulders. “Jinx. Look at me.”

Jinx didn’t respond, rocking slightly as she hugged herself tighter. Tears pricked her eyes, and her breathing grew uneven.

“She’s alive,” Vi said firmly, shaking her slightly to break through the haze. “You hear me? Y/n’s alive. I know she is. You know how tough she is.”

“She’s not tough enough to survive this,” Jinx whispered harshly, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there for her.”

Vi pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as Jinx broke down in her arms. “This isn’t on you,” Vi said quietly. “We’ll find her. But right now, you’ve gotta hold it together. For her. For Isha.”

At the mention of Isha, Jinx’s grip on Vi tightened, and she slowly nodded against her sister’s shoulder. But the tears didn’t stop, her mind replaying every worst-case scenario. Deep down, she knew Vi was right. If there was even a chance you were still out there, Jinx wasn’t going to stop until she found you.

And when she did, she’d never let anyone take you from her again.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

The weeks passed slowly in exile. Sevika had taken you to an abandoned outpost far from the reaches of Piltover and the Undercity, a place quiet enough to let you heal but restless enough to remind you of what you’d left behind. She tended to your wounds with surprising care, though her sarcastic jabs never waned.

“You’re lucky I’ve got a soft spot for strays,” she’d muttered one night as she rewrapped the bandages on your ribs. “But don’t get used to this. I’m no nurse.”

Still, there was something unspoken in her actions—a tenderness she wasn’t willing to put into words.

Two weeks later, with your body still aching but functional, Sevika finally deemed you ready to move.

“Piltover’s ruled you dead,” she said as the two of you boarded a rickety transport bound for the Undercity. “Most of Zaun thinks the same. Guess that makes you a ghost now, huh?”

Her tone was teasing, but her eyes carried weight. She wasn’t the only one who believed you were gone—Jinx did too.

“Ghost or not,” you muttered, adjusting the hood over your head, “I can’t hide forever.”

Sevika chuckled dryly, lighting a cigar as she leaned back. “Not with that stubborn streak of yours. But hey, your ‘death’ did something. Piltover and Zaun are at each other’s throats again, and Jinx? She’s not the same.”

You looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“She’s got the whole damn Undercity behind her now,” Sevika said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Murals of you are everywhere—walls, streets, even the rooftops. You’re some kind of martyr to them. And Jinx? She’s their voice. Every raid, every speech, it’s in your name.”

The idea made your chest tighten. “That’s not what I wanted.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sevika said bluntly. “That’s what you got. Your death hit her hard. Hell, it hit me hard.”

You turned to her, surprised by the rare vulnerability in her voice. She didn’t meet your gaze, focusing instead on the glowing tip of her cigar.

“You remind me of someone I used to know,” she admitted quietly. “Someone I—” She stopped herself, shaking her head as if dismissing the thought. “Point is, don’t get yourself killed for real. I’d hate to have to paint your mural next.”

You offered a faint smile, though the weight of her words lingered.

When the two of you arrived at Jinx’s lair, the air was thick with tension. The familiar hum of her gadgets and the faint scent of gunpowder filled your lungs. Sevika turned to you before you parted ways.

“Look, I’m not one for speeches,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if you’ve got something to say to her, don’t wait. People like us don’t get second chances often.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you adjusted the straps on your gear.

“Thanks, Sevika,” you said, pausing before you entered. “For everything.”

She smirked, her usual bravado returning. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Leaving Sevika behind, you climbed the rusted beams of the lair to reach the old storage room. The shadows were familiar, comforting even, as you positioned yourself to watch the main floor below.

Jinx was pacing, her chaotic energy unmistakable even now. Isha sat nearby, quietly doodling on the floor, her small form a contrast to the tension in the air.

You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself for what came next. This wasn’t going to be easy. But you’d faced death, betrayal, and exile. Surely, you could face her too.

As you watched her from above, the world seemed to slow, the weight of your return pressing heavily on your chest. It was time to step out of the shadows.

Sevika stood at the edge of Jinx’s lair, leaning against the wall as she lit a cigar. She was about to speak, but Jinx’s glare cut through her like a knife.

“Where the hell were you?” Jinx growled, pacing like a caged animal. Her wild blue hair swayed with each furious step.

“Jinx, I—” Sevika started, but Jinx cut her off with a shout.

“No! Don’t you dare give me excuses!” Jinx’s voice cracked, the usual manic energy replaced by raw pain. “You left me. You left us.” She gestured toward Isha, who was watching from her spot near the corner, her quiet presence a stark contrast to the chaos.

“I had to keep my head low,” Sevika said firmly, though there was a hint of guilt in her tone. “You don’t think I wanted to be here? I couldn’t exactly waltz back into Piltover or Zaun with every damn enforcer looking for me.”

“That’s not good enough!” Jinx’s voice trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like without her? Without—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, trembling.

Sevika’s expression softened. “Jinx…” she said gently, taking a step forward.

Jinx dropped her hands, her face flushed and tear-streaked. “I—I’ve been losing my mind,” she whispered, her voice almost a whimper. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I hear her. And then I remember she’s gone. That it’s my fault. I should’ve stopped her, or—”

Her words dissolved into sobs, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself fall apart.

Sevika hesitated, unsure if Jinx would let her get close. “You loved her,” Sevika said softly, more a statement than a question.

Jinx nodded, choking on a bitter laugh. “More than I even knew. And now she’s gone, and I—” She crumpled to her knees, clutching at her chest as if it would ease the ache. “I can’t breathe without her.”

Sevika knelt beside her, reaching out to place a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. “You’re not alone,” she said. “I know it feels like you are, but—”

Isha, who had been quietly observing, stood and stepped forward, her wide eyes catching something in the shadows. She froze, her gaze fixed on the spot where your grey eyes glimmered faintly before disappearing into the darkness.

Her hand twitched toward you, her quiet confusion etched across her face. But before she could take a step, you were gone.

Outside, shouting broke through the stillness. You climbed to the rooftop, your boots quiet against the metal as you surveyed the scene below. A group of enforcers had invaded a small square, their harsh voices clashing with the somber gathering of Zaunites.

The mural at the center of the square caught your attention immediately. It was breathtaking, painted with bold strokes of color and light. You were depicted standing tall and defiant, your gray eyes vivid and piercing. Beside you was Jinx, her wild energy perfectly captured in vibrant blues and pinks. The two of you stood back to back, symbols of hope and rebellion intertwined. Candles and flowers surrounded the mural, their soft light flickering like stars.

Your chest tightened at the sight, but the peaceful moment shattered as enforcers began shoving the crowd back. Below, Jinx and Sevika were already there, trying to stop the chaos.

Jinx was in her element, her taunts sharp and biting as she darted around the enforcers. But her recklessness caught up with her when one of them struck her in the head with the butt of a rifle. She stumbled, dazed, and they quickly handcuffed her.

“Let her go!” Sevika roared, lunging forward, but another enforcer held her back.

You paced back and forth on the rooftop, your heart pounding. Every instinct told you to stay hidden, to keep your cover. But when the enforcer grabbed Jinx by the arm and hissed your name with disdain, something inside you snapped.

Jinx, handcuffed and bloodied, tried to lunge at him despite her restraints. “Don’t you dare say her name!” she screamed, only for the enforcer to hit her again, sending her to her knees.

Your hands clenched into fists. For a moment, you turned away, ready to retreat into the shadows. But then Jinx’s name echoed in your mind, her laughter, her tears, her voice begging you to stay.

Before you could think twice, you sprinted toward the edge of the roof and leaped, landing in a crouch between Jinx and the enforcer.

The sudden appearance made everyone freeze. Your hooded cloak concealed most of your face, but when you straightened and your gray eyes met the enforcer’s, his expression twisted with fear.

“You—” he started, but he didn’t get a chance to finish.

You moved swiftly, disarming him with a calculated strike before turning to the others. One by one, you incapacitated them, your movements precise and unrelenting. The enforcers never stood a chance.

When the last one hit the ground, you straightened and turned toward the mural. The crowd behind you murmured in awe, their whispers growing louder.

“Could it be…?”

“Is it really her?”

You stopped in front of the mural, staring at the image of yourself and Jinx. Slowly, you reached up and pulled back your hood.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as you turned, your face fully revealed.

“It’s her…” someone whispered.

Jinx, still kneeling on the ground, stared up at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her lips parted, but no words came out.

You stepped toward her, the world around you fading into silence. It was just you and her now.

The square was eerily quiet after the chaos. You turned to Jinx, her wild blue hair disheveled, her face streaked with dirt and blood. Kneeling in front of her, you gently reached for the cuffs around her wrists. Your hands worked quickly, the click of the lock releasing breaking the silence between you.

As soon as the cuffs fell to the ground, Jinx lunged forward, wrapping her arms around you so tightly it was as if she feared you’d disappear if she let go. Her body trembled against yours, her breaths shaky and uneven.

You froze for a moment, surprised by the force of her embrace. Then your arms came around her, pulling her close as if trying to make up for all the time lost. She buried her face in your shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of your cloak.

“I thought I lost you,” she choked out, her voice muffled against you. “I thought—” Her words faltered, replaced by quiet sobs.

You closed your eyes, resting your chin against her head. The weight of her grief, her relief, was almost overwhelming. “I missed you, Jinx,” you whispered softly, your voice warm and steady. “Every second I was away from you, all I could think about was getting back to you.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. Her violet eyes were wide and glassy, searching your face for any sign this wasn’t real. Her hands came up to touch your cheeks, as if she needed to feel you to believe it. “You’re real, right?” she whispered. “You have to be real.”

A smile tugged at your lips, faint but genuine. “I’m real,” you said. Then, with a playful glint in your eye, you added teasingly, “But if you need proof, I could always show you.”

Before she could respond, you leaned in and captured her lips with your own. The kiss was sudden, fierce, and full of all the longing and emotion you’d both been holding back. Jinx froze for a split second, her breath hitching, before she melted into you, kissing you back just as passionately.

The world around you seemed to dissolve. There was no chaos, no danger—only her. Your hands slid up to cup her face, your thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks as her fingers clung to your cloak like a lifeline.

But then, the square erupted into cheers and applause. The sound hit you like a wave, pulling you both out of your moment. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against hers, both of you catching your breath as laughter bubbled up from the crowd.

Jinx blinked at the noise, her cheeks flushed as she glanced around. “Well,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a half-smile, “I guess we put on a show.”

You laughed softly, about to respond when you caught sight of a small figure sprinting toward you.

“Isha!” you called, opening your arms as she reached you.

She crashed into you with such force that it nearly knocked you over. Her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as her small frame shook with sobs.

“I’m here, Isha,” you said softly, scooping her up into your arms. You held her close, your hand cradling the back of her head as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her tears soaked into your cloak, and you felt her little hands clutch at you as though she feared you’d slip away again.

Jinx stood beside you, her hand reaching out to touch Isha’s back in silent reassurance. Her gaze returned to you, her eyes soft and full of a fragile kind of hope.

For the first time in weeks, you all felt whole again.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Caitlyn’s office was a shadow of its former self. Once immaculately organized, it was now a chaotic mess. Papers were strewn across the floor, half-empty mugs of stale tea cluttered every available surface, and the scent of ink and exhaustion clung to the air. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in a perpetual gloom lit only by the dim glow of her desk lamp.

In the corner, Caitlyn sat hunched over a pile of paperwork, her hair disheveled and her uniform crumpled. Her once-crisp blue jacket hung loosely from her shoulders, the brass buttons dulled. Her eyes, ringed with shadows, scanned the documents in front of her with a mechanical focus, a mask for the turmoil beneath.

The sound of hurried boots on the wooden floor snapped her attention toward the door. An enforcer stumbled in, his mask cracked and barely clinging to his face. His breathing was ragged, his shoulders heaving as if he had sprinted the entire way.

“Commander Kiramman,” he gasped, gripping the edge of the doorframe to steady himself.

Caitlyn straightened, setting down her pen with a clatter. Her brows furrowed at the state of him. “What is it?” she asked, her voice sharp, clipped—more out of reflex than true energy.

The enforcer stood tall despite his battered appearance, his words tumbling out in a rush. “At the square near the Undercity border. The mural… it was attacked by enforcers, but…” He hesitated, his breath catching.

“But what?” Caitlyn pressed, her eyes narrowing.

“Y/n,” he said, the name hanging in the air like a thunderclap. “She’s alive, Commander. She—she fought the enforcers and… she revealed herself.”

For a moment, Caitlyn stared at him, her expression unreadable. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white. “What did you say?” Her voice was low, trembling with barely contained emotion.

“Y/n,” the enforcer repeated, his voice steadying. “She’s alive. She fought them off single-handedly and disappeared before we could track her.”

Caitlyn’s heart pounded in her chest, a storm of emotions threatening to overtake her. Relief, disbelief, anger, and something deeper—something she wasn’t ready to name—all churned within her.

She shot up from her chair, sending it rolling backward. “Alive,” she muttered under her breath, pacing to the window as if she could catch a glimpse of you out there in the night. She pressed a trembling hand to her temple, her mind racing.

The thought of you—breathing, fighting, alive—stirred something deep within her. But with it came a rush of cold fury. You had humiliated her, made her question everything she thought she knew. The betrayal still burned like an open wound.

She turned sharply back to the enforcer. “Get me every available squad. I want checkpoints at every exit of the Undercity and Piltover. Leave no stone unturned.”

The enforcer nodded but hesitated. “Commander, with respect… do we capture or eliminate?”

Caitlyn froze, her jaw tightening. The words hung in the air, the weight of the decision pressing on her like a vice.

“Capture,” she said finally, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I want her alive.”

The enforcer saluted and turned on his heel to carry out her orders, leaving Caitlyn alone once more.

She stared at the scattered papers on her desk, but her focus was gone. Her chest heaved with each breath as she leaned heavily against the edge of the desk. “Alive,” she whispered to herself, the word laced with longing and wrath.

Her hand slowly reached for the rifle mounted on the wall, her grip tightening around it as she pulled it down. If you were truly alive, she would find you. And when she did… she wasn’t sure whether she would embrace you or destroy you.

__________________________

Hey lol, thank you guys for reading! it means alot and if you read this little A/n then youll get a better understanding of this fic. So it is long, there are actually two points in this fic. TWO big like main ( i cant find the words- like the main plot) things. The moral of the book is you choosing between Zuan and piltover (the women running it...wink wink) so stay for the ride cause boy does it get stupid crazy. I'm talking about clutching the phone and having to side eye the screen like 'oh?...ohhhhhhhh' so! hehe enjoy!

[ripeandsoft]

Office Hours

Summary: You’ve been a star pupil in Professor Richmond’s sociology class—always willing to help others, always on time, and you do great work. So when your focus starts to slip he feels he can help you, and you can help him with a dilemma of his own.

A/n: I did make an oc for this fic because I feel awkward using “y/n”, especially in dialogue. Her name is Joya and she has short hair which is mentioned later. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written and I struggled with making the dialogue flow and not seem awkward. Please be gentle with me! 🤍

Content warnings: slight age gap, dubious (consensual!) professor/student relationship, oral, slight public play, penetrative sex, spit, a spank or two, cum eating

—

You stood outside his office doors, trying to see into the frosted glass window of the door. You lifted your right hand to knock gently, knuckled rasping against the cool glass. The sound of the brass knob turning made you stand up straight, the weight of your bag straining on your shoulder. The door swung open and his wide frame took up most of the door way. His tie was loose around his neck, the first few buttons open. He pulled his right hand from the pocket of his slacks to usher you in with two fingers, closing the door behind you and flipping the lock.

“I noticed that you’ve been distracted in class recently. Is there anything that I can help you with to get you back on track?” Terry leaned his elbows on the desk, muscles flexing with movement. Your eyes moved around the room to avoid his gaze. Neutral colored clay pots, books, pens, the occasional plant, and notes were scattered around his office. Late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the window spreading warmth throughout the room. You played with the rips of your jeans, twirling the frayed edges of fabric around your finger. Realizing you’ve been quiet for a beat you open your mouth to speak but close it again when nothing comes out.

“I’ve, um, just been distracted with other classes and volunteering around campus” You said with a nod, trying to appear more out together even though you felt like you were gonna melt into your shoes. You droned on about your other classes and picking up volunteer work to help with build up your portfolio. Terry listened intently as you explained the situation, his eyes boring into yours as you spoke. It wasn’t the best excuse but it’s better than telling your professor that you’ve been dreaming of him fucking you senseless. You began to sweat, the combination of the sun and Terry’s eyes on you made you feel like you were burning up. You glanced at the clock and swallowed the spit accumulating beneath your tongue.

“I understand Joya, really I do, but this upcoming presentation is worth a good amount of your grade. I have resources that can help you, study rooms in the library to reserve, tutoring help, office hours even. I hope you haven’t been wearing yourself thin” Terry stood and walked around the front of his desk and leaned against it. Your eyes snapped up to his face, his close proximity making his scent waft up your nose. Sweet like coffee and earthy like sandalwood. “Oh no I’m fine” you shook your head as you stood up, feeling like you’re overstaying your welcome and teetering on the tightrope of danger. You snatched your bag from off the floor, slinging it haphazardly over your shoulder and starting to walk towards the door. You heard Terry huff before his steps sounded behind you. His hand was on your shoulder and pulling you back into his chest before you could reach the doorknob.

Your breath was caught in your chest. You felt the print of his dick against his slacks, starting the harden against the curve of your ass. “Sit down Joya” He spoke in your ear, his tone leaving no room for argument. When he noticed you going for the chair again he nudged it to the side to stop you in your tracks. He nodded towards the desk. You backed up slowly until your thighs felt the cold wood. You sat yourself on the cold surface, plucking a pen from under your thigh. He came to stand between your parted thighs, thick index finger lifting your chin up so your eyes meet his.

“What was our topic of discussion last Tuesday?” He asked, finger tracing down your throat and chest, a trail of goosebumps left in its wake. You left out a soft breath before speaking. “Moral and ethical dilemmas” You responded, thighs shaking as his finger continued its trail. “What was one of the examples?” He started to place kisses on your neck, lips soft and warm against you. “Age gaps in mmm relationships” You sighed through your sentence, eyes flutter closed as he sucked on the skin above where your pulse thumped. He hummed as he pulled your shirt off in one swift motion. The fat of your tits spilled from the fabric of your bra, all the more enticing for his teeth to skink into.

“Take these off” He ordered, tugging on the loop of your jeans. Terry reached for his shirt, buttons opening without resistance. You shimmied out of your jeans and panties, the fabric joining your shirt in a heap on the floor. Terry leaned down to kiss you, giving you just a few pecks at first. His hand settled on the back of your head, his fingers nestled in your short curls. His tongue massaged yours gently, tasting your day off your tongue. Your nipples found a home between his thumb and index fingers, his digits rolling and pinching them. You arched into his touch, skin on fire with need.

You were pushed to lay flat on his desk, his hand across your belly. He pulled the hood of your swollen clit up to expose you more, the throbbing bud at his mercy. Terry licked a stripe from your hole up to your clit to gather your essence on his tongue. His spit it back onto your pussy before sucking your clit into his mouth, making you squeal. Your thighs clamped around his head as he continued to eat you. Your hole clenched around nothing as he brung your hips closer to his face, burying his tongue deep inside you.

With your hands pressed flat on the desk you tried to scoot away from your professor. Hot pleasure sizzled in deep inside your belly, orgasm building with each stroke of his tongue. Your eyes rolled back as you came in Terry’s waiting mouth. He hummed against you as you flooded his tongue. He rubbed your thighs to help soothe you, gently bringing you down from your high. The clicks of his belt coming off and hitting the ground made you lean up on your elbows. You watched as he kicked his pants off and to the side.

He scooped you up into his arms and placed you on your feet, turning you around to bend you over his desk. He rubbed his leaking tip around your clit before sliding his shaft between your folds. He jerked himself with his right hand, spreading your juices and his precum all over his dick. The shuffling of feet coming down the hallway made you look up, eyes wide in fear. Terry hand came down to spank your ass two times, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as your skin stung from the impact. “Be quiet for me, you don’t want us to get caught right?” He asked, sliding in your wet pussy inch by inch. You exhaled all the air you had as he bottomed out, balls pressed against your clit.

You both were still, pussy stretched and leaking around him. His veins pulsated along your walls. He set a slow pace, digging as deep as he could. His tip brushed against your spot just right, your mouth open in silent moans as he worked you open. Terry threw his head back as he continued to thrust, his balls full and tight. He pressed you harder onto the desk, your arch growing deeper as his pace picked up. Was it wrong to fuck your student? Yes absolutely. Did you feel better than anyone else? Yes abso-fucking-lutely.

“Where do you want me?” He asked, feeling himself about to burst. Your body was buzzing, goosebumps erupting over your skin as you start to fuck back to meet his thrusts. “Inside Professor, please” You moaned, nails scratching at the wood surface of the desk, searching for stability. His balls started to slap hard against your clit, his hand resting on your hip clutching you tighter. He gave you one more pump before he started to flood your pussy, pulsating and twitching inside you as his load leaked out of you and onto the desk. You came again once you felt him empty himself inside you, a ring of white cream wrapped around the base of him.

He pulled out of you slowly, your walls hugging him tight like they didn’t want to let him go. He watched as his cum rolled out of you, pooling under your pussy. He leaned down to lick you clean before grabbing you by the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he could spit it into you mouth.

“Swallow” He said, closing your mouth for you.

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 2

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home @clp-84 @thelightknight21

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Chapter 2: Beneath the Ashes

Arriving at Y/N’s place, I park and take a moment to steady my racing heart. I can already see her silhouette through the window, pacing back and forth. Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car, determination mixed with dread coursing through me.

As I knock on the door, it swings open almost instantly, revealing Y/N’s fiery gaze. “You actually showed up,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d actually end shit,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, but it comes out more defensive than I intended.

She steps aside, letting me in, and the tension in the room is palpable. “What did you expect? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks! You think I’d just wait around forever?”

I clench my fists, my patience wearing thin. “I’m dealing with a lot right now, Y/N. You can’t just act like I’m the bad guy for trying to handle my shit!”

“Handle it? Is that what you call shutting me out? Not even telling me your grandfather passed? What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, her voice rising.

“I didn’t want to burden you with this!” I shout back, the frustration bubbling over. “I thought you’d understand!”

“Understand what? That you’re pushing me away while I’m trying to be here for you?” She steps closer, her anger radiating off her like heat waves.

“Y/N, stop,” I warn, trying to keep the situation from escalating further, but she doesn’t back down.

“I won’t! You think I’m just going to sit here and let you treat me like I’m nothing?” she yells, shoving me back, her hands pressing against my chest.

I pause, staring at her in disbelief. “I dare you to put your fucking hands on me again, Y/N,” I challenge, my voice low and dangerous.

She steps into my space, glaring up at me, unyielding. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

In a split second, the anger surges, and I grab her shirt, pulling her closer. “You think I’m fucking around, Y/N? I told you from the jump: I don’t play that ‘putting hands on each other’ shit.”

What the actual fuck am I doing

Every time she tries to pull away, my grip tightens, the fire between us flaring. “I hate you,” she spits, the venom in her words cutting through me.

My heart sinks, the words landing like a punch to my gut. “You don’t mean that,” I reply, my voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

She hates me..Well I hate me even more.

“Don’t I?” she counters, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Because right now, I can’t stand you!”

Join the fucking club yn. 

The thought cuts deeper than I care to admit, but I can’t back down now. “You think this is easy for me? Losing my grandfather? It’s tearing me apart, and all I’m asking for is a little understanding!”

Her expression falters for just a moment, and I can see the conflict in her eyes, but then it hardens again. “Understanding? You think I can just overlook you shutting me out? You think I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”

No, I just wanted you to be patient with me. Why Can’t I just say that

“You want to throw everything away because I’ve been dealing with my shit?” I can feel the desperation creeping into my voice. “You think that makes it any easier for me?”

She stares at me, breathing heavily, the anger shifting into something more complicated. But the moment hangs thick with unspoken words, and I can feel the walls between us closing in tighter.

“I don’t know, Sukuna. Maybe it’s too late for us,” she finally says, her voice quieter now but still firm.

I swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of my stomach. “No,” I whisper, desperate. “It can’t be too late. Not for us.”

She scoffed while walking away from me. I found myself suddenly following Y/N through her apartment, desperation propelling me forward. 

This can’t be happening. Not now. Please, Y/N, just hear me out.

"You don't fucking get it," I growl, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"Explain it then," she snaps back, her voice watery, barely holding back tears.

Fuck... she’s crying... She’s crying again... I can’t... Oh god... I can’t fucking do this. 

My chest tightens, 

The sight of her in pain tearing at something deep inside me.

“Please just stay and explain it to me,” she pleads, her eyes searching mine for something—understanding, reassurance, anything.

You want me to explain it? To tell you how much it hurts? To tell you that you’re breaking me into a million pieces and don’t even know it? How will that help anything? It won’t make you want me back. It won’t take back the way I’ve been acting or our fights. All I’m doing is hurting you.

“It’s not your fault, okay?” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I know that. It just... it’s a lot.” My heart feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice, emotions crashing over me like waves.

Y/N cuts me off before I can say more. “I’m not doing this anymore, Sukuna.” Her words slice through the air, final and resolute.

Not doing this anymore.

 The phrase echoes in my mind like a death knell. My stomach drops, a heavy weight settling on my chest.

“What do you mean?” I ask, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You can’t just—”

“I can and I will,” she interrupts, her voice rising. “You’ve shut me out for so long. I can’t keep waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and realize what you’re doing to us!”

But I don’t want to lose you!

“I’ve been trying to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away!” she continues, her frustration boiling over. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m not important enough to you, like you’re too busy drowning in your own problems to even see me!”

“I’m not drowning, Y/N!” I shout, the rawness of my voice shocking even me. “I’m trying to stay afloat! You think this is easy for me? I’m lost without you, but I thought I was protecting you by keeping my distance.”

Her gaze hardens, and for a moment, I see the glimmer of hope flicker in her eyes, then dim. “Protecting me? By shutting me out? By pretending like everything is fine when it’s not?”

I didn’t want to burden you…

“I thought you were stronger than this, Sukuna,” she says, her voice breaking. “But instead, you’re just hurting yourself and pushing me away.”

God, it hurts.

“I’m scared,” I admit, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m scared of what losing you really means. I don’t know how to handle all this, and I thought… I thought maybe I could do it on my own.”

Her expression softens for a fleeting moment, but then it hardens again. “But you can’t. You can’t do it alone. You need to let me in.”

“I know,” I reply, my heart pounding in my chest. “But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to explain any of this without breaking us completely.”

“Then don’t,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Just be honest. Just... talk to me.”

I want to. I want to tell you everything, but what if it’s too late?

“Please, Y/N,” I plead, stepping closer, desperation coating my words. “I need you to stay. I can’t do this without you.”

She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Sukuna. I need someone who will be there for me, not someone who keeps shutting me out.”

And I don’t want to be that person.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” I say, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “But I’m so damn scared of losing you.”

“I’m scared too,” she replies, her voice small. “But I can’t keep doing this alone.”

In that moment, the distance between us feels insurmountable. I can see the pain in her eyes, the hope slipping away like sand through my fingers. “Y/N, please…”

But she’s already stepping back, shaking her head slowly. “I can’t, Sukuna. Not like this.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck…shit…this can’t be happening….why does my head fucking hurt

I know pushing further like this won't help, but I'm desperate. I know I’m being toxic, clinging onto her like this when she’s clearly done, but I don’t care. I could almost hear Jin laughing at me now.

 The great heartless Sukuna, broken up over a girl. Who would’ve thought?

I follow her to her room, watching her collapse onto her bed, her body language screaming exhaustion. She grabs her iPad and starts scrolling on Tumblr, shutting me out. Ignoring me completely.

I sit down beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her, trying to close the distance any way I can. "Y/N," I start, my voice coming out soft, barely a murmur, but she doesn’t respond. She keeps scrolling, her face set in an emotionless mask. I can feel her slipping further and further away.

"Get out, Sukuna," she says, her voice steady but hollow. No anger, no frustration. Just...tired.

But I don’t move. I can’t. My pride might be screaming at me to just walk out, to keep whatever scrap of dignity I have left, but my heart? My heart is keeping me glued here, next to her, silently begging her to look at me.

I reach over and try to take the iPad from her hands, but she quickly turns away, hugging it to her chest. I don’t care how it looks; I lay down beside her, scooting closer, feeling the tension in her shoulders, her back rigid with resentment or maybe…exhaustion.

 I fucking missed this...I love her so much. When was the last time I told her I loved her?

I swallow, nerves clawing at my throat. "I love you, Y/N," I whisper, the words tasting like desperation, slipping out before I can stop them.

The silence is deafening, thick and suffocating. Then, a sniffle.

"Don’t say things you don’t mean, Sukuna," she murmurs, her voice breaking, barely holding back tears.

I'm fucking this up. I’m losing her. God, someone, help me not fuck this up further.

She turns towards me, finally, her brown eyes—the ones I’ve grown to love, that used to sparkle every time I made her laugh—now red and puffy, burdened with the pain that I caused.

Without thinking, I lean in and kiss her, gentle at first, then desperate, pouring every unspoken apology, every ounce of regret and love into it. I pull her close, my arms wrapping around her tightly, as if I could keep her from slipping through my fingers any further.

Her body tenses, and for a second, I think she’ll push me away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she clings to me, her fingers tangling into my shirt, pulling me closer. The room is quiet, save for our shaky breaths, the sound of our hearts pounding against each other’s chests.

Please don’t leave me. Please, Y/N. Just stay. Just a little longer. I’ll be better; I swear I will.

Y/N’s lips pull away from mine, and she stares up at me, her eyes searching, conflicted. I feel my heart thundering in my chest, every beat a reminder of how badly I want her, need her right now.

"You taste like cigarette smoke, Kuna," she murmurs, her voice a little unsteady. I can’t help but chuckle, sliding my hands slowly up her sides until one rests gently on her cheek, brushing a thumb over her skin.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say, my voice low, tinged with a hint of guilt, but I can’t seem to let her go. My need to be close to her, to feel her warmth, is overwhelming everything else right now.

She bites her lip, glancing away, the hesitation clear on her face. But my fingers trace the line of her jaw, gently guiding her face back toward mine. "I need you," I say softly, my voice raw with longing. My hand cups her face as I lean down, pressing my lips against the curve of her neck, then biting my way down, savoring the way her breath catches each time my teeth graze her skin.

"Please, baby," I whisper against her neck, my voice almost pleading, "I need you so fucking bad."

She lets out a shaky sigh, her fingers curling into my shirt. "Kuna, we shouldn’t," she whispers, her words barely audible, as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this; part of me is painfully aware of how wrong it is to mess with her mind like this, to sleep with her when we’re both standing on shaky ground, barely able to hold each other up. But the ache in my chest, the hollow feeling I’ve been trying to drown in anything but my own thoughts, is too much to bear alone tonight.

"Just... let me forget for a little while," I murmur, my hands sliding down her sides, tracing every curve.

I pull her shirt over her head and slowly kiss my way up her body until I'm staring into her eyes.

"You... you look......... like you want......." she pants. "Like you want to eat me."

Cause I fucking do. God…

"I have never... wanted anyone... more than I want you, right now," I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear. It feels intimate as I press my body against hers and then roll my stomach in a slow grind that almost feels like I'm fucking her. I do it twice more, hissing as she shivers with pleasure.

The whimpers. Fuck me... The whimpers. Fuck I forgot how she sounds. It’s been a month.

I kissed my way down her body this time, taking one of my hands to firmly grip her jaw to keep her focused on me “Eyes on me princess.” 

I realize her jaw once I’m sure she focuses on me. I slipped her shorts off, revealing her soaked cunt. 

I spread her legs open, while I slid lower down the bed. I push her legs back “Hold these and you better not drop them, pretty girl.” I slide my tongue from her clit to her close, slowly then around her inner lips. I swirl my wet tongue around her clit 

ONCE! TWICE! THRICE!

"Fuck daddyyy-"! I hear her say. I smile a bit going a bit lower to her hole, I spit, almost drool onto her pussy and slurp up her juices. I feel her wetting my face more. I slip a finger in then another. 

“Kuna, please…please fuck me” she whined, begged.

Fuck she’s…I forgot how sweet her taste is. How sweet she sounds. 

“ FUCK... keep doing THAT... I love the way you beg. Love the way you say my name.”

I slowly suck my way back up to her clit once more, dropping a quick nibble on it causing her to pull away from me. I wrap my arms around her hips and pull her back down and keep my grip on her.

“Come on yn. Don’t run from it. I don’t play that.”

I continue sucking on her clit. I add in one finger then another. I listen to her moans echo through her bedroom. Her pleas in my ears for more…

Or is it to slow down? Fuck either way, the way she sounds is gonna make me bust.

I thrust my fingers in and out faster, the way her my pussy is wet and the squelching sounds it’s making. I stop for a moment staring at her pussy saying “talk to me some more.”

I feel yn’s body get tense under me. That doesn’t stop me. I suck on her clit harder. I arch my fingers upwards grazing her g spot. 

“Su….kuna please please please…ouu fuck..right there…please!”

I slow down causing yn to practically scream at me. “Sorry princess” i smirked

I picked up the speed again this time switching to tongue fuck her while i play with her clit. 

Yn’s moans grew louder, while she grew wetter. Her back arched off the bed, well she attempted to but he pulled her back in, almost stifling me completely. 

I feel her tightened around my tongue then I feel her all over my face. I smiled but I didn’t stop. I kept at it like a crack addict. Switching my mouth and fingers between her clit and her hole. She was fighting and twitching under me.

“Too much Kuna…please…you’re too much”

“Daddy please…Oh fuck! I can’t”

“Mmm gonna cum again..please…”

“Fuck mm coming…Kuna. Sukuna! Shiitt! Oh God.”

I release her legs to strip off my clothes. I watch her stretch her hand and stroke my dick. 

I'm hopeless for her. Fuck! I hope she doesn’t replace me in her life

 "God, I fucking love you," I groan, finally thrusting into her slick cunt, feeling it envelop me. Her cunt grip my dick and her legs are already shaking.

"Please," she gasps, biting her lip as she meets me thrust for thrust.

I swear to god, I could fuck you to death right now... Never been so fucking horny. 

I grab her hips to stop her from taking over.  “Just let me put in the work princess”

 I pushed myself inside her again, going all the way to the hilt—

My voice thick with desire, I confess my innermost desires, "I need you. I've always needed you, even when I pushed you away." 

I slid my hand up her body grabbing her throat, watching the lust and fucked out state all over her face. I watch her smile at me with that devious look in her eyes. The look I’ve missed in so long.

Her pussy is gonna be the death of me..Or is it her love. Maybe both

I release her throat, sliding my hands down her chest pulling on her nipples one by one, I slowly drag my hand lower, and lower until it’s on her stomach. I push down on it and angle my body slightly off to the side, picking up the pace more. 

Thwop Thwop Thwop! The sounds of her skin against mine, mine against hers became louder. “Kuna! Oh…fuck me please…harder!” Y’n is grinding up against her harder than before. 

This is fucking with my head.

"Please... don't... you're breaking me, Yn….fuck!” "I love you. Please..." my frenzied thrusts, driven by madness…maybe lust…or loss…

Fuck I need a smoke right now. 

My eyes were scanning her room trying to distract myself.

“Top draw on your left” yn moaned

“Huh..Fuck baby you’re killing me here..ss..wet and tight.” I groaned out. 

“You…fuck!...cigarettes top draw Kuna.” 

Am I that obvious..Jesus

I pulled out reach for the top draw and fished around, saw a pre rolled joint sitting in the ashtray and decided to take that instead. I quickly lit it up and took a deep drag exhaling then another. I leaned down to yn’s face talking slowly. “I need you yn…fuck. I really do.”

I flipped her over onto her stomach and arched her back nic for me. I took another hit feeling the thc slowly running through my veins. I eased inside her again

I’m slower this time around, “Throw it back on me baby. Take what’s yours. It’s your dick. You know that” I pull her hips back against her everytime she throws it back on me. 

“Oh my FUCKING god,” she cries out, her mouth hanging open as it hits her, rolling her under a wave of pleasure so pure and perfect, even I can feel it. Her body jerks, pussy spasming around my dick.

“Not done with your ass yet yn.” I wrap my hands around her hair and turn her face to the side, then press my body against her back pushing her into the prone bone/ collapsed doggy position. I take another pull of the joint before down and kiss her slowly exhaling all the smoke into her mouth.

 “Take me baby.” pulls out “I know I’ve been stupid these past weeks. Maybe even more” Thrusts in “I love you yn. Please baby. Anything but this.” pulls out “I love you, you matter to me” 

"I've been a fucking mess, Yn. Trying to protect you, trying to be the man you deserve. But I've been failing at both." 

I should shut up. Not say these things. I’ll make it worse

As I continue to move within her, my voice takes on a desperate tone. "I know I'm not good enough for you, but I can't bear the thought of losing you. You're mine, Yn. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side. but you deserve so much better than me."

"My feelings are so twisted up,"

Leaning down, I whisper into her ear, "Why do you want to leave me, Yn? Why end it like this?" I murmur, pulling out briefly before thrusting back in. My words, a mix of desperation and possessiveness. 

“Cause..Fuck- fuck fuck fuck s’too deep- hngh” 

“Nah, ss not deep enough…I know you can handle more.” I sit back on the bed in a kneeling position pulling her hips with me Smack! I grip her ass in my palm, spreading it apart to spit on her cunt from the back. 

I push her head down into the mattress and rut into her.

Mine... You're mine, princess... Every time you move, I want you to feel it. To ache with it. To be reminded that you fucking belong to me…

I flip her back over onto her back wanting to stare into her warm brown eyes. I push my fingers into her mouth. The ones I had inside her, coated with the evidence of her desire. I grab the headboard to give myself more leverage.

Bed squeaking

Sounds of skin slapping, unsticking and slapping against skin

Smell of weed and sex in the air

It’s enough to almost put me over the edge. ALMOST!

Fuck baby... I'm gonna cum...she groans

Her body clenches around me, and that's all it takes.

"Oh god, oh god, oh GOD," she cries out.

"Yes,.. fuck yes...," I groan.

"Oh my gawwwwwd..." i feel her buck under me, trying to pull away from me, I pull her back down to me again

So close, baby... I'm so fucking close...

"So good... So fucking good...," I growl.

“Just take it..... Please, fucking take it.” I feel tighten around me, Her body clenches around me, and that's all it takes to push me over the edge

“I know love, I know. I’m almost there.” I groan, pulling back and thrusting again each thruster harder and deeper than the last. 

There's nothing better than this... Nothing...

My eyes close and I pull back a little, thrusting one, final, time.

I watch Y/N slowly drift off beside me, her breaths steady, her face softened, and for a second, I reach out, wanting to pull her close again. But she shifts, pulling away from me.

Y/N… please. Don’t do this now.

“Y/N,” I say, my voice low, barely holding steady.

Her eyes flick open, tired and worn. "Sukuna," she says softly, like she's already miles away. "Your stuff is in the living room. Please take it... and leave."

I feel something shatter inside me, something small but crucial, and I can barely keep my voice from breaking. "Y/N, ple—"

“Just get out!” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the quiet. I freeze, the final crack resounding through whatever was left of my heart.

They say bad things come in threes… or was it good things? Right now, I can’t remember anymore.

"Okay," I whisper, barely getting the word out. That's all I can manage.

I get up, get dressed, and head to the door where she left my stuff. I pick up the boxes and take one last look around her apartment. And then I walk out, closing the door softly behind me, knowing damn well there’s no coming back from this.

Down the hallway, down the stairs, step by step until I reach my car. I toss the boxes into the back seat, close the door, and finally slump into the driver’s seat. I don’t even reach for the keys—I just sit there, the weight of it all pressing down until I feel my lungs start to tighten, my hands starting to shake.

No, not now. Not here.

I close my eyes, hoping to calm myself down before the panic sets in, but it’s useless. My heart races, breaths coming short, shallow. I try to breathe slowly, but my chest feels tight, like it’s caving in on itself.

I sit there, arms wrapped around myself, as memories crash through my mind like a brutal tide—Jin’s smirk, my grandfather’s steady hands, Y/N’s quiet smile in the morning sunlight. I feel like I’m drowning in them, pulled under one after another, unable to surface.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. How did I fuck it up this badly?

But no answer comes, just the silence and the dark, swallowing me whole.

The quiet stretches around me, wrapping me in a thick fog of despair. I try to steady my breathing, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache, but nothing seems to break the emptiness that has seeped into my bones. I sit there, feeling my pulse hammering in my ears, my head swimming with fragments of memories—Jin laughing at some joke he’d cracked, Grandpa teaching me how to tie a tie, Y/N looking up at me that first night we met, her eyes bright with mischief and something I’d been too damn scared to name.

How did I get here? How did I end up so alone?

The night stretches on, thick with silence, and I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of everything I’ve lost. I take a breath, forcing myself to stay grounded, to push back the panic clawing its way up my throat.

I reach for my phone, my fingers trembling as I open my contacts and scroll to her name. I stare at it, the screen glowing in the dark, my thumb hovering over the call button. Part of me wants to reach out, to hear her voice just one more time, but I know it’ll only make things worse. She doesn’t want to hear from me—not after tonight. Not after everything I’ve done.

Let her go, Sukuna. Just… let her go.

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and close my eyes, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel. The emptiness is overwhelming, the silence heavy, and I can feel the despair sinking its claws into me, dragging me under.

They’re all gone now. Jin, Grandpa… Y/N. What am I even fighting for anymore?

I take a shuddering breath, feeling the pain sear through me, raw and unfiltered. I sit there for what feels like hours, lost in the darkness, my mind spinning as I grapple with the realization that I’ve driven away everyone I’ve ever cared about. The regret is a bitter taste in my mouth, choking me.

Eventually, I manage to start the car, the engine rumbling to life, but the sound feels hollow, distant. I grip the wheel and pull out of the parking spot, driving aimlessly through the empty streets, my thoughts drifting as I try to numb the ache gnawing at me from the inside out.

Streetlights blur past, the city stretching out in a maze of empty roads and darkened windows, and for the first time, I realize how truly alone I am.

This is it,

I think bitterly.

This is what’s left. Just me… and a hollow, empty shell of everything I thought I had.

As I drive, the memories claw at me, and I let them, sinking into the pain, embracing it. Maybe, if I let myself feel it now, I’ll finally be able to let it all go.

[thebiggerbear]

This was my first Twilight character x reader story on here that I read and I cannot begin to tell you how pleased I am that I started with Emmett and with this work!!! This was beautifully written while also giving me all the angst and heartbreak and yearning feels experienced by Y/N. So well done!!!

The woods surrounding Forks were darker than you remembered. The dense canopy of evergreens blocked out most of the moonlight, leaving only thin beams to guide your path. Your breath came out in short bursts as you weaved through the trees, the familiar chill of the air biting at your skin. You knew this place like the back of your hand, and yet tonight, it felt different. Like the shadows themselves were warning you to turn back.

Love the description here. It immediately brought me right back to Forks and immersed me into the Twilight world. Very nicely done!!!

You’d told yourself a thousand times that you wouldn’t come back—that this part of your life was over. But staying away had proven impossible, and no matter how hard you tried to move on, something kept pulling you back to Forks. Back to him.

Oh my goodness, did I just let out a loud squeal? You're darn right I did!

The moment you stepped into the clearing, your heart stopped. He was there, standing as still as a statue, his broad shoulders tense and his dark eyes locked onto you. Emmett Cullen. The vampire who had stolen your heart—and then shattered it.

This is such a heart-stopping moment, though, to borrow your phrase. Seeing him in the moonlight, his eyes locked onto you, noting he's a vampire... You painted the picture so perfectly!

He let out a rough breath, his hands running through his dark curls, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable. Like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was finally too much. When his gaze finally met yours, there was no mistaking the anguish there. “I left,” he said, his voice quieter now, thick with emotion, “because I couldn’t control it anymore.” You frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Control what?” Emmett’s expression darkened, and his fists clenched again. “The thirst,” he growled, like the word itself was painful. “Being around you… it was getting harder. You don’t know what it’s like, having to fight it every second. The scent of your blood—it’s overwhelming. And I couldn’t risk it anymore. I couldn’t risk you.”

I really do feel this is the conversation Edward should have also had with Bella in the books, too. At least Emmett is telling her and being honest with her here. And knowing Emmett's body count history, it's more than understandable why he left. He just straight up says it and I love it.

“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We could’ve figured it out together.” Emmett shook his head, his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to age him by centuries. “No, we couldn’t. I’m a danger to you, and you don’t even realize it. Every day that I spent with you, I was fighting my nature. One slip, one mistake, and you’d be gone. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

Normally, I'd be frustrated with her like I get with Bella in New Moon (the whole saga quite frankly) whenever it comes to this harsh truth of a topic in a relationship between vampire and human in that world, but I can understand the reader's point here. And I appreciate that Emmett shuts it down, as much as it costs him to do so. (I also LOVE how you've taken Emmett's backstory and applied it here brilliantly btw!!!)

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You just looked up at him, your heart heavy. “I came back because I couldn’t let go of you,” you said softly. “But maybe… maybe it’s time I do.” Emmett’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock and pain, but he didn’t stop you as you turned away, your heart breaking with every step. He had left to protect you, but in the end, the danger wasn’t just in his nature. It was in the love that had consumed you both, the love that had torn you apart. And as you disappeared into the shadows of the forest, you realized that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you have to let them go.

Thank YOU. As much as this hurt and I hate to see Emmett in pain (he will always be one of my fave Cullens!), I am so glad to see a realistic reaction to the depth of the love between a human and a vampire in this world alongside to the danger the vampire actually represents. Don't get me wrong, I love the Cullens but it always bothered me that Bella refused to at least acknowledge that fact and fully process it no matter what anyone said to her, including Edward. Not until her own transformation anyway and other people like Charlie were at risk from her. So I am very glad to see this displayed here. And your writing is impeccable so like I said above, I am so glad I entered the Twilight x Reader reading territory with you as a guide to light my way and I started with one of your works!!! So well done!!! 😊💖💖

Letting You Go (Emmett Cullen)

Summary: You wanted to see Emmett again, but you realise it was a lost cause.

WC: 1kish

Warnings: Angst

Read on Ao3!

--

The woods surrounding Forks were darker than you remembered. The dense canopy of evergreens blocked out most of the moonlight, leaving only thin beams to guide your path. Your breath came out in short bursts as you weaved through the trees, the familiar chill of the air biting at your skin. You knew this place like the back of your hand, and yet tonight, it felt different. Like the shadows themselves were warning you to turn back.

But you couldn’t. Not when you had come this far.

You’d told yourself a thousand times that you wouldn’t come back—that this part of your life was over. But staying away had proven impossible, and no matter how hard you tried to move on, something kept pulling you back to Forks. Back to him.

The moment you stepped into the clearing, your heart stopped. He was there, standing as still as a statue, his broad shoulders tense and his dark eyes locked onto you. Emmett Cullen. The vampire who had stolen your heart—and then shattered it.

“You really shouldn’t come back here, you know.” His voice was low, rough around the edges, a far cry from the easy-going tone you used to love. “It’s not safe.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep walking toward him even though every instinct screamed for you to run. “I know,” you said softly, your voice barely carrying through the cold air. “But I had to see you.”

Emmett didn’t move. He stood there, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The distance between you felt like a canyon, even though it was only a few feet. He looked the same as he always did—strong, imposing, impossibly beautiful—but there was a hardness in his eyes now, a darkness that hadn’t been there before.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”

You took another step closer, ignoring the warning in his tone. “Why, Emmett? Why did you leave like that?” Your words cracked under the weight of the question you’d been carrying for so long. “I need to understand.”

For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his expression—regret, maybe, or pain—but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cold detachment that made your heart ache.

“There’s nothing to understand,” he said flatly, his eyes hard. “I left because it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Safe. The word felt like a dagger in your chest. Safe from what? From him? The thought made you sick.

“You think leaving me out of nowhere was going to protect me?” you demanded, your voice rising with emotion. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Emmett. You just—vanished. I didn’t know if you were dead, or hurt, or if I’d done something wrong—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” he interrupted, his voice thunderous as it cut through the air, echoing in the clearing. His eyes flashed with something raw, something that broke through the icy exterior he’d been trying so hard to maintain. “This wasn’t about you.”

“Then what was it about?” you whispered, taking another step forward, desperate to close the distance between you. “Tell me, Emmett. Because I can’t move on without knowing why you left me.”

He let out a rough breath, his hands running through his dark curls, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable. Like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was finally too much. When his gaze finally met yours, there was no mistaking the anguish there.

“I left,” he said, his voice quieter now, thick with emotion, “because I couldn’t control it anymore.”

You frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Control what?”

Emmett’s expression darkened, and his fists clenched again. “The thirst,” he growled, like the word itself was painful. “Being around you… it was getting harder. You don’t know what it’s like, having to fight it every second. The scent of your blood—it’s overwhelming. And I couldn’t risk it anymore. I couldn’t risk you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The realization hit you like a freight train. He had left because he was afraid of hurting you. But that didn’t stop the pain from gnawing at your heart.

“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We could’ve figured it out together.”

Emmett shook his head, his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to age him by centuries. “No, we couldn’t. I’m a danger to you, and you don’t even realize it. Every day that I spent with you, I was fighting my nature. One slip, one mistake, and you’d be gone. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

Your heart shattered at his words. The depth of his fear, his self-loathing, was laid bare before you, but it didn’t change the fact that he had left you in the dark. That he had ripped your heart out without a second thought.

“You leaving already hurt me, Emmett,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “It hurt more than anything you could’ve done. You thought you were protecting me, but you broke me instead.”

He flinched, and for the first time, you saw him break too. His shoulders sagged, and his eyes squeezed shut as if he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The man you loved was standing right in front of you, but it felt like there was a wall between you, one that couldn’t be torn down by apologies or explanations.

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You just looked up at him, your heart heavy.

“I came back because I couldn’t let go of you,” you said softly. “But maybe… maybe it’s time I do.”

Emmett’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock and pain, but he didn’t stop you as you turned away, your heart breaking with every step.

He had left to protect you, but in the end, the danger wasn’t just in his nature. It was in the love that had consumed you both, the love that had torn you apart.

And as you disappeared into the shadows of the forest, you realized that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you have to let them go.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 4: Shock, “I see the danger, it’s written there in your eyes”

We had to get to the bloody ones eventually—

This was originally going to be standalone, but one thing led to another and I think there’s going to be another part at some point. I couldn’t make it longer and I’m very stuck on the idea hehe

Warnings: blood & injury, specifically a stab wound, and just general battle violence and injuries

Read it on ao3

————————————————————

“Ugh, wizzrobes again?” Legend grumbled as he slid under a bolt of electricity. “We just fought some of these clowns yesterday! Did the Shadow just give up on originality?”

“Less complaining, more fighting!” Warriors shouted at him from nearby, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“Less criticism and more fighting!” Hyrule called back with a mischievous look, and Legend almost laughed, though it turned into a yelp when he dodged another bolt of magic.

Wizzrobes were such a pain.

Especially Wild’s.

Warriors shouted at him again, but this time it was a warning, and Legend deftly jumped away from a blast of ice that would have frozen him solid. He nodded a thanks at the captain, and went back to trying to defeat the wizzrobes, which was nearly impossible with how crazily they moved.

Legend dodged a fireball, and quickly turned and shot a blast of ice at the offending monster. It shrieked, and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and Legend swapped out his ice rod for a fire rod, and did the same to another.

The different rods seemed to work well, and along with the others all fighting together, soon there was only one wizzrobe left. It was in a color Legend hadn’t seen before though, and he looked at it suspiciously.

“Yours come in purple now?” he called behind him towards where he knew Wild was sniping.

“I’ve never seen one like that before!” Wild called back, voice uncertain. “I don’t know what it—”

As he spoke, the wizzrobe grinned, letting out a deranged cackle as it shot a huge burst of magic into the sky. Purple lights flashed, and a glowing ball fell from them, dropping down into the clearing and exploding into blinding light before anyone could do a thing.

Legend yelped and covered his face with his shield, but the magic still knocked him off his feet and onto the ground. It shook into his limbs and up to his face, his vision going white and spotty. It didn’t... hurt, exactly, but something about it felt all mixed up inside of him, jolting through his body and limbs, and he felt rather discombobulated.

“Legend!”

The sensation abruptly faded, and he felt arms tugging at him. Legend gingerly opened his eyes, almost surprised he could see at all, and looked up, meeting Hyrule’s worried gaze. The traveler was looking down at him with wide eyes, and Legend blinked a few times to get the last few spots of white out of his vision.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asked, looking him over worriedly, “you were closest to that beam, it felt like an explosion went off.”

“Fine, fine,” Legend coughed, then gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Think it was just... magic. I don’t even think it did anything to me.”

“Nothing?” Hyrule asked suspiciously, and Legend shook his head.

“No. Is everyone else okay? Where’d that wizzrobe go?”

“I haven’t checked yet, but since you’re fine I would guess they’ll be—”

An arrow slammed into the ground right between Legend’s feet.

He jumped, and in one swift movement was on his feet with his shield out, back to back with Hyrule as he looked for the enemy who’d shot. He scanned the field as he looked for where his sword had gone to, then he froze, and stared at who had fired the arrow.

Wild stood across the clearing, his bow drawn with an arrow nocked in Legend’s direction. His brows were lowered as he stared at the veteran, stance unusually firm, and something about the way he held himself just screamed danger.

Legend flicked his eyes around, and felt his breath leave him as he saw Warriors and Sky both staring at him as well, swords drawn and angled towards him in a threatening gesture. Time stood on Legend’s other side, claymore raised as he stared silently at the veteran, and Legend’s heart skipped a beat.

He and Hyrule were surrounded. By their own teammates.

No, Legend realized with a dawning horror, sunlight glinting proudly off Time and Warriors’ armor, no not my teammates.

Knights.

“Captain? What’s going on?” Twilight asked nearby, Wind and Four looking equally confused next to him.

“Traitor to the crown,” Warriors said in a low voice, eyes never blinking.

“You kidnapped the princess,” Wild added in a growl.

“We have our orders,” Sky said in a smooth voice, and raised the Master Sword accusingly. “Dead or alive.”

Legend couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t be crazy!” Wind said in disbelief, looking at Time and Warriors with a shocked expression. “Legend didn’t do anything! What’s wrong with you guys?!”

“The wizzrobe,” Four said with a sharp inhale. “That attack must have done something to make them think he’s the enemy.”

“Time, please, you know Legend, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Twilight said gently, inching towards him. But Time stopped him with a firm glare, his sword never lowering. The knights all took a step closer to Legend, and he felt Hyrule stiffen at his back.

“Legend, you need to run,” Hyrule whispered. “Now.”

Legend couldn’t move.

Suddenly he was eleven again, staring at a wanted poster with his face on it, wondering why the reward was so high. He was eleven, screamed at by the townsfolk, and surrounded by guards just for trying to walk into the village to buy food on his quest. He was eleven, chased down by brainwashed knights and forced to fight them, some of them people he knew, his uncle’s friends, raise his uncle’s sword against them and hurt them—

“Legend RUN!”

He snapped back into himself just in time to avoid a thrust from Warriors, and Hyrule grabbed his wrist when he merely stared at the weapon that had almost killed him, pulling him away.

“Come back you traitor!” Warriors shouted, and Legend blinked, able only to watch in numb shock as Four and Twilight leapt to defend him, Hyrule still dragging him away.

Sky leapt forward, then cried out as the Master Sword fell from his grip, sparking as she was about to be used against one of her own. Wind took the opportunity to tackle him, and Legend watched blankly as the sailor wrestled Sky’s pouch away from him so he couldn’t grab any more weapons.

“Don’t hurt them!” Wind cried out, still struggling with Sky, “they’re not themselves!”

“Keep them away from Legend!” Twilight shouted as he crossed swords with Warriors, the captain swinging his blade with fierce strokes.

Hyrule nodded, and blocked a slew of arrows from plunging into Legend’s chest, then yanked him behind his back as he avoided a huge swing from Time.

“You’ve betrayed us all!” Time spat, and Hyrule crossed blades with him, nearly driven to his knees by the force of it. “You’re nothing but a false hero, poisoning the land with your lies!”

The words were like a knife, and Legend could only watch in blank shock, stunned as Hyrule struggled against Time, as Twilight and Warriors still fought against each other, Wind nearly getting punched in the face by Sky while Four tried desperately to get close enough to Wild to stop him from sniping them all down—

“Legend! Snap out of it!” Hyrule shouted as he somehow managed not to be lopped in two by another of Time’s swings. “You’re going to get killed, wake up!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase or the desperation in Hyrule’s voice, but Legend finally snapped into action, firmly shaking himself. You can freak out later when half of your team isn’t trying to kill you!

Legend dove for his gilded sword, but hissed at the warning spark he felt as he grabbed it. Sometimes he forgot his blade was another version of the Master Sword, upgraded and changed, but at times like these it was impossible.

I’m not going to hurt them, I’m only defending myself, he begged as it got hotter, still stubbornly holding on even as his hands began to burn. Please, you know I’m not!

The hilt scorched his hands, and Legend was forced to shove it into its sheathe, grabbing in his pouch for a backup sword. Before he could though, something swung towards him, and he only barely got his shield up in time to block it.

The strike threw him to the ground for the second time today, and Legend nearly had the breath knocked out of him. His eyes widened as Wild raised a claymore of some kind to strike him with, and he just barely managed to roll out of the way of another hit.

“Champion I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he gritted out, but Wild didn’t reply.

His face was eerily closed-off as he tried to hit him, strikes almost clinically precise. Legend had to dodge all over the place, and he still got a shallow cut on his arm. Not to mention his hands were smarting from trying to use the gilded sword, and every time a hit rang out against his shield, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Wild swung again, and Legend gritted his teeth and used his backup sword to shove the champion backwards, then grabbed for his ice rod again. His aching fingers closed around it, but then he felt his entire body freeze in place, yellow shining in his vision.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t do anything, and he suddenly realized that Wild must have used the stasis rune on his slate on him.

No, no no no no no—

Before he could panic too much, the magic broke, and Legend stumbled, thrown off-balance. He looked around in surprise, then saw Four standing next to him, having frozen Wild’s feet to the ground with Legend’s own dropped ice rod.

He could only stare at him for a second, and startled as Four yanked him behind his shield, blocking the arrows Wild was shooting at them again.

“Should have gotten his arms too,” he cursed, then turned towards Legend. “Vet, they’re all after you, you need to go find that wizzrobe and beat it. That should break the magic, I think it’s our best bet. We can keep them all busy while you go.”

“But— you’re outnumbered,” Legend said a bit hysterically, his panic over the whole situation starting to come back, “not in numbers but skill, have you ever seen Sky and the captain duel? Not to mention the old man, he could probably take on all of you at once—”

Four put a hand on his arm, and gave him a small smile as he raised his sword.

“I can get us some more help. But you need to go.”

Legend swallowed, but he knew Four was right, and gave him a nod as he grabbed his ice rod and bolted in the direction he’d last seen the wizzrobe.

He suddenly felt like he was eleven again.

He caught sight of Hyrule as he ran, the traveler using his magic to stay away from Time’s deadly swings. He had blood on his leg, but his face was as determined as ever, and he firmly blocked Time from following when the older hero saw Legend running away.

“Coward!” he heard shouted behind him, but Legend kept running despite the sting it left in his chest.

He bolted past Twilight, who had an arrow in his arm and multiple other injuries, but was continuing to fight anyway, blocking Warriors’ strikes with a grieved look, almost like he’d been forced to do this before. Wind was still wrestling with Sky, fists flying as the Skyloftian tried desperately to get his weapons back, but Wind was determined to keep him down.

Every instinct of Legend’s was screaming at him to turn around and fight, help his friends, his brothers, he had so many items that could help them— but he forced himself to continue, ignoring a pained cry when he heard it.

Legend was smart enough to realize the only way they would all get out of this alive would be if he broke the curse. They couldn’t stand against some of the best fighters of their group forever— it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, it still felt like he was abandoning them.

This is the only way to help right now. You’re not leaving them, you’re doing what needs to be done.

If you stayed here, you would only make their job more difficult.

Legend searched desperately through the trees for a flash of purple, hoping desperately the wizzrobe was still in the area.

He had no way of knowing if he was looking in the right spot or not. For all he knew, the wizzrobe was long gone, but he kept looking, even as the clashing of swords still rang in his ears, and a scream that sounded a bit like Four echoed nearby.

Legend bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, and ignored the stinging that had started up in his eyes as he searched.

The others were back there somewhere, fighting against their brothers, risking their lives, all for him, to keep him safe, and he’d frozen and barely helped them and now he couldn’t even find the stupid wizzrobe.

“Come on! Come out and fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking a little. “Are you afraid? Because you better be!”

A giggle flitted through the trees, and Legend shot a blast of ice out, the laughter only growing.

Purple weaved through the foliage, and Legend shot another blast out, obviously missing due to the giggle he overheard. He knew his emotions were making him sloppy, and Legend forced himself to steady his hand. He breathed out, lowering his weapon and acting as if he was unaware of where the wizzrobe was.

Come on, take the bait...

A giggle erupted in his face, and Legend thrust out his ice rod, making the wizzrobe scream as it was launched backwards. It fell to the ground, stuck solidly in a chunk of ice, and Legend pulled out his fire rod, prepared to burn it to a crisp.

Then something hit him in the side, and he went flying, crying out as he fell to the grass.

His side ached where he’d been hit, and before he could move, what felt like a foot stepped down on his chest, pressing against his doubtlessly bruised ribs and stopping him from getting up. Legend opened his eyes and saw Warriors staring silently down at him, sword raised to pierce him through.

Somehow he’d gotten past the others.

“Wars— Warriors don’t,” Legend choked out, struggling to catch his breath. “Link, please I’m not your enemy!”

“You’re a traitor,” Warriors said in a cold voice, still not blinking. He had blood running down his face from a cut over his eye, but his face showed no sign of pain. “My orders are clear.”

“Captain wake up!” Legend shouted, terror rising in his throat. “You’re not yourself, you’d never hurt any of us, snap out of it!”

Warriors didn’t react in the slightest, and raised his sword.

Legend felt a burst of panic, and he shot his arm out, feeling desperately for where he’d dropped his fire rod. If he could just kill the wizzrobe, Warriors would wake up, the spell would break—

Warriors’ sword went down as Legend’s fingers closed around his rod, and he shot a desperate plume of flame towards the dazed wizzrobe.

The fire hit it right as Warriors’ sword buried itself in his middle, and Legend’s scream mixed with the wizzrobe’s, hot agony slicing into his chest. The sword was pulled out again only seconds later, but then Warriors stumbled back, the weapon dropping from his hands.

Legend barely noticed, trying not to scream again as the sword fell to the ground beside him, already feeling blood start to dampen his tunic.

Okay, okay okay easy, you’ve been stabbed before, no big deal. Just because Warriors was who did it doesn’t change a thing, put pressure on it, you need to put pressure—

His chest burned and Legend couldn’t hold back a cry, taking thick breaths through his nose.

Goddesses please, not like this, he’ll never forgive himself.

“L-Legend?” Warriors said dizzily, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He put a hand to his forehead, and blinked several times, wiping blood from his face with a confused look. “Vet, what...”

Then his eyes focused, and he noticed the stab wound in his chest.

“LEGEND!”

Warriors dropped to his knees beside him, and Legend couldn’t help but jerk away from him, nearly shrieking as the captain immediately pressed his hands to his middle, trying to stem the flow.

“Legend don’t move, what happened how did this...”

Warriors trailed off as his gaze landed on his bloodied sword, and every bit of color drained from his face as he recognized it as his own.

“Legend?” he said shakily, and Legend swallowed, unable to stop himself from meeting his eyes.

A sword was abruptly pressed to Warriors’ neck, and Legend watched dizzily as Twilight forced the captain back, the look in his eyes equally furious and horrified. Warriors jerked like he wanted to go back to Legend, but he raised his arms in surrender, and moved back as Hyrule dropped to his side. More of the Links rushed into the clearing around Legend, but Warriors only had eyes for him, confusion and horror shining bright.

Hyrule’s hands pressed against his middle, and Legend sucked in another trembling breath.

“It— it’s gone,” he stuttered, and felt something warm slip past his lips. Oh that’s not good. “Wizzrobe— he’s not— not g-gonna—”

“Don’t talk Legend, you’ll be fine,” Hyrule said firmly, and Legend wasn’t sure if he imagined the tremble in his voice or not. “Just stay awake, okay? I’m gonna fix you up.”

Hyrule moved a careful hand around his chest, feeling at the injury, and Legend tensed, hissing through his teeth. Someone’s hand touched his head, and he flinched, choking as something moved in his middle.

The cold he’d been trying to ignore was growing closer now, nipping at his extremities, trying to suck him down. Legend firmly ignored the feeling, despite how easy it would be to sink into it, and focused on Hyrule’s face, blearily realizing there was blood on his shoulder. He wondered who had done that to him.

The pressure on his chest abruptly increased, and Legend couldn’t muffle his scream, so many sensations hitting him that his brain couldn’t even process it.

Then something began to trickle through his middle, something that warmed the cold that had been falling over him. Warmth blossomed in his chest, different from the hot blood that had been trickling across it, and Legend exhaled, relaxing slightly as Hyrule’s magic wove through him.

Once he could focus enough to realize Hyrule was still healing him, he reached down and grabbed his wrist, giving him a look.

“I’m good, don’t overextend yourself,” he said a little shakily, and he cut Hyrule off when he went to argue. “You already used a lot of magic, I saw you.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Hyrule retorted.

“Well I’m not the only one who’s going to need healing,” Legend said more quietly, and Hyrule stopped, the glow fading from his hands.

Twilight appeared in his vision then, arrow still jutting from his arm, and he scanned Legend’s bloodstained middle in silence. Then he met Legend’s gaze, looking much older then he normally did.

“You definitely got the wizzrobe?” he asked seriously, and Legend nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s dead. The spell broke the moment I got it,” he said in a quiet voice. “They won’t... they’re safe.”

Oh gods I hope they are.

Twilight exhaled, and nodded, putting a hand on Legend’s arm.

“Okay. Try and get some rest, Veteran. We’ll handle things.”

“Take the literal arrow out of your arm first,” he muttered back, and a faint smile pulled at Twilight’s lips.

“We’re working on fixing everyone up. Rest. We can... we’ll figure all of this out later,” Twilight said quietly, glancing behind him at something. Legend followed his gaze, and saw Warriors sitting on a log, staring silently at the blood on his hands.

The others who’d been affected by the wizzrobe were nearby, and Sky looked like he was trying to talk to the captain, but Legend looked away as Hyrule began to bandage his middle.

Traitor!

Legend closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to any of the voices that still rang around his head, or focus on the horrified look of Warriors’ that was still seared into his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it.

[nade2308]

I was thinking long and hard about what to do for today's theme. Ultimately I decided on the parallels between Julia and Ilsa bringing Ethan back to life by having to shock him with electricity. These two moments give me feels.

@thethistlegirl

@whumptober

AO3 link here

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper

@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”

-

The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.

He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–

“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.

Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”

Another round of laughter.

“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”

The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.

As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.

“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”

The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.

He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.

“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" + "You in there?"

Read on Ao3

- Wind & Warriors

- Summary: Wind is forced to fight a malice-possessed Warriors

CW for possession, blood and injury, and mild body horror

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

Wind has seen Warriors in many different states. He has seen him pale and haggard from stress and exhaustion, ashen and white-faced from deep wounds. He has seen his eyes crinkle with laughter and his expression fall as he cries. He has seen him angry and joyful, heartbroken and terrified.

But never has he seen him like this.

The knight stands before him, wavering unsteadily on his feet. One half of his face is pale – too pale – and his eye shines abnormally bright from within it. But the other half is coated in a mass of sticky-looking purple-black goo. It clings to him like a mask, burrowing beneath his eye socket. The usual Hylian blue of his eye has turned to black and his pupil is a golden, cat-like slit rimmed in crimson.

The purple stuff travels down his body from there. It trails along the curve of his neck, spreading around his chest, creeping across his abdomen, traveling down to wind about his left leg. It gurgles as he takes a stumbling step forward.

“What’s the matter, sailor?” He grins, cracked lips pulling back to reveal crimson-tinged teeth. “Do you not like this new version of me?”

Wind takes a step back. His sword feels heavy in his hand.

“You-you’re not you, Warriors.”

Even saying it makes his throat feel tight. But he has to. He has to speak the truth.

When the Captain had gone missing last week, he had feared the worst. They all had. And when Wolfie had tracked his scent to Hyrule Castle, the mood had only dipped further.

(“No one goes in this place, anymore,” Wild had said, gazing at the castle with something akin to bitterness. “Not unless they don’t want to come out. There’s malice hidden in the walls. Zelda and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it up yet.”)

But even that hadn’t completely dashed Wind’s hopes. Warriors was tough – is tough – and he had thought…well, he had thought he would find him when he had walked into the castle. Injured maybe, and in need of help, but not like this. Not unrecognizable, a monster in the form of his brother.

That is who he must face, however. And now with the rest of the heroes locked outside, he is left to face him alone.

“You’ve gotta fight it,” he pleads as Warriors comes steadily closer. “I know you can do it! You’ve just gotta try!”

“Try?” Warriors laughs and the sound seems to echo off of the stone walls. “There is nothing to try. This is what I am now, and I am better for it.”

He raises his sword. His breathing is haggard, every inhale sharp. Wind can’t say he’s afraid of him…not truly, not when he knows there is still a part of him, hidden deep within that is the Warriors he knows and loves. But when the goo begins traveling along the floor toward him, he can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat.

“I was a servant of the goddess for so long,” Warriors continues, his voice hoarse and crackling. “I thought she gave me purpose, made me strong. But now I see that that was all a lie.”

Wind swallows. He can feel the tension in the air, building up for the knight’s next words.

“Why would I serve her, when I could have the ability to resurrect one infinitely more powerful?

“Ganondorf.”

He had known it was coming, but the name hits him like a massive wave anyway. Wind takes a step forward now, anger and fear coursing through him.

“He’s the bad guy and you know it!” He cries. “I know you do!”

Warriors only chuckles, the sound grating and sinister. “You’re foolish, just as I was. But you’ll see soon enough.” He grins, eyes glinting. “Or you’ll die.”

“Sailor!” Twilight calls from behind him. His words mingle with the curses and sounds of frustration of the other heroes. Their voices are muffled by the thick walls that stand between them and Wind, but he can hear them well enough. “What’s going on in there? Are you okay?”

Wind drags in a breath. His palms are sweaty, his hands trembling.

“Wars is…he-he’s covered in purple gooey stuff.”

“He’s what?!” It’s Wild now, panic sharp in his tone. “Sailor, is he acting weird?”

“Yeah.” His voice trembles and he clears his throat. “He…I-I think he’s possessed.”

“Possessed?” He can hear Legend groan. “That’s just our luck.”

“I’m going to find another way in,” Time says, voice brittle as ice. “You all remain here and aid the sailor any way you can.”

“There is no other—” Wild cuts off with an audible sigh. Wind guesses the old man went off before he could finish.

“He’s still fighting,” Wind says, even as he steps back again, trying vainly to keep some distance between him and the slowly advancing captain. “There’s gotta be a way we can help him.”

“There is,” Wild replies. “Listen, Wind, he’s trapped in malice. So, you’ve got to shoot the…”

A piercing scream drowns out his next words. Wind startles, grip on his sword tightening in preparation. But Warriors has stopped short and the malice with him. 

He is curled in on himself now, hunched figure looking so much weaker and more broken than seconds before. He presses a hand to his face and instantly the goop oozes over his fingertips. The scream trails off into a moan that quickly turns into a croaked word. 

“Wind?”

The sailor inhales sharply at the sound. Hope leaps inside his chest.

“It’s me, captain! I’m here! We-we’re all here! We’re gonna save you!”

Warriors falls to his knees. Wind can’t help but take a step towards him. But then the captain lifts his head and there is such anguish in his expression that it breaks his heart. He comes to a halt, throat dangerously tight.

“Wind….” The word is softer this time, more breathed than spoken. “I-I can’t…”

“You can!” Wind takes another step, ignoring the warning signals blaring in his brain. This is his brother and he’s not about to abandon him now. “I believe in you, Wars! You can fight this!”

The edges of Warriors’ mouth lift just slightly. A tear rolls down his cheek.

“Sailor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…please…run.”

There’s a beat of silence. And then, he begins to cackle.

He rises on shaky legs, stumbling upward like a redead rising to consume its prey. He moves forward, every step slow and jerky. The malice spreads out like a carpet before him.

Warriors grins, all sharp teeth and deathly pale skin. Blood dribbles from his mouth.

“You thought you’d won, didn’t you? You thought you wouldn’t have to fight me. So sorry to disappoint.”

He flicks a finger and suddenly the malice speeds up. It zips toward Wind in a blur of violet and black and bits of crimson. His heart jumps into his throat and he leaps sideways. Not a moment too soon either. The malice collides with the wall behind him with a sickening splat.

Wind cringes.

Is that how it had attacked Warriors? He wonders. But there isn’t time to imagine how such a horrifying fate had befallen his brother. Because Warriors whirls with startling speed and strikes again.

This time Wind is better prepared. He drops into a somersault. The malice rushes past his ear, so close he’s almost sure it’s going to hit the tip. But then he’s up again, just behind Warriors. Taking a deep breath he raises his sword and brings it down on the mass of malice that trails in the captain’s wake.

The hit does nothing.

The malice retracts, then with an unholy screech reaches for him. Wind’s eyes go wide.

He dodges, shoulder colliding painfully with the wall. Warriors turns to him with a leering smirk. Wind is unpleasantly reminded of the little imps in the Forbidden Fortress — the ones that poked at his heels and chased him up the walls. The thought makes him sick.

Warriors isn’t supposed to look like that.

“You’re fast,” the captain says. “And skilled. No wonder I loved you. At first I wasn’t sure how I could’ve cared about  some kid. But now I know. You were useful.”

Wind swallows, hard. The words hurt him more than he’d like to admit.

It’s not true. He doesn’t mean it, he tells himself, firmly. It’s the malice talking, not him.

Warriors leaps toward him again, this time bringing his sword slicing through the air. Wind is forced to hurl himself sideways to escape being pinned against the wall.

But he doesn’t have time to even catch his breath. Malice surges toward him across the ground, grasping his feet even as he turns. He struggles, fear running hot in his veins. Its grip is strong, however, and it holds him firmly in place.

Warriors stalks up to him. Wind forces himself to meet his crazed stare.

“You can’t run anymore,” he sneers. “Fight me or die. There are no other options.” He steps closer, hand outstretched inches from Wind’s face. Malice encases his fingertips. “Unless, of course, you would rather join me.”

He tilts his head and the way the light falls upon the still-human side of his face almost makes him look like himself again. Almost. 

“You could help me resurrect him. You could help me bring an end to this world.”

Tears run in rivulets down his cheeks. He tastes salt. But Wind curls his hand into fist. 

“I won’t help you. Not like that. I’m gonna set you free!”

Warriors straightens, sword clasped tightly in his fist. The eye of malice narrows, as though seeking prey. Its contrasting array of colors seem to gleam.

With it so close, Wind finds it hard to take his gaze off of it. His hands almost itch to lose an arrow into it like he has done in so many dungeons.

Legend’s voice echoes in his mind, colored with peals of laughter.

“Always shoot the eye.”

Then, comes Wild, tone panicked but determined, muffled by the thick walls, cut off by Warriors’ cries of agony.

“You’ve gotta shoot the…”

Wind inhales sharply.

That’s it! 

There is still hope, after all.

The malice continues to climb sluggishly up his body, weighing him down. The darkness that emanated off of it is suffocating. Lifting a shaking hand, Warriors aims the tip of his sword at his heart.

“Then you’ll die.”

Wind takes a deep breath. Swiping at his tears, he steels himself. Hand heavy, heart in his throat, he lifts his sword.

Please let this work, he prays.

And then, he plunges the weapon into Warriors’ face.

There is a nauseating squish, a skull-splitting scream, and Warriors crumples. The malice around Wind’s legs dissipates in a cloud of dark violet specks. The goop on and around Warriors follows suit seconds later.

Instantly, Wind is on his knees, sword sheathed, hands on Warriors’ shoulder. He turns the knight over, choking out his name as the windows and doorways of the Sanctum slide open and the sunlight streams in. It illuminates the captain’s — now completely human — face in blessed light.

Distantly, Wind registers that the others are racing into the room, calling his and Warriors’ names, punctuated with panicked questions. But he can’t bring himself to reply.

Warriors’ eyes are closed now, his freed body still.

…Too still. Wind watches his chest, waiting for it to rise.

“Come on.” Tears spring to his eyes anew and roll down his cheeks, tracing the paths of their predecessors. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “Come on, Warriors, wake up.”

Please don’t be dead.

Time is dropping down beside him now, already uncorking a bottle. A fairy flies free and heads straight for the fallen captain. Wind watches as she begins to whirl around him.

Her dance seems to last forever. But then, at last, she zips away and disappears.

Wind leans forward, holding his breath.

Abruptly, Warriors jolts upward coughing and gasping. He looks around the room, wildly, eyes wide and panicked. But they are blue as the Great Sea and full of the life he knows so well and Wind can feel nothing in that moment except joy and relief.

“Warriors!” He wraps his arms tightly around the captain, half to support him and half to cling to him. To remind himself he is still here, alive. That he is safe.

Warriors stiffens and pulls back, eyes roaming his body.

“Sailor,” he croaks in the voice that is so unmistakably his. “Are-are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

With a shaky smile, Wind drags him back into the hug. “I’m fine! Promise! Don’t worry about me.”

Warriors makes a sound like a half-sob. He shudders.

“I-I’m so, so sorry.”

The sailor shakes his head, viciously. “Don’t be! It wasn’t you.”

“But I should have…I could have fought…”

Time leans forward, setting a hand on both of their shoulders. Emboldened by his presence Wind sucks in a breath, nearly choking on tears.

“You did fight, captain! I saw you. You-you fought all you could!”

“There is nothing else you could’ve done,” Time adds, quietly. “The champion hasn’t known anyone to resist the pull of such evil, save for Flora. And it seems you continued to battle it for quite some time.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. He slumps, defeated, and Wind holds him tighter.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I-I was really worried.” He raises his head to look Warriors in the face. “You…are okay now, right?”

There are tears running down Warriors’ pale cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth and various wounds Wind can see now that the malice is gone. But he cracks a broken smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright now, sailor. All thanks to you.”

[serickswrites]

"Written There In Your Eyes"

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, rescue

Whumpee's chest was heaving. They hadn't been able to get a good breath in for hours. Between the tightness of the metal chains around their chest and the repeated shocks with a cattle prod, Whumpee's bones buzzed, their chest ached, and they could think clearly.

And their heart was racing out of control.

"Why won't you just give me what I want?" Whumper had hissed minutes--hours?--ago.

Whumpee put everything into the smirk they threw Whumper. "Where's....the....fun...in...that?" It had taken all of their breath to get that sentence out, but the look on Whumper's face had been worth it.

They just needed to hold on a bit longer. They knew Caretaker was coming. The team was coming. They just had to hold on until the cavalry arrived. Just a bit longer.

Fortunately Whumper had left in a huff after Whumpee's comment. No doubt they were trying to calm themself down so they didn't kill Whumpee. They needed the information that Whumpee had.

Or so Whumper thought. Whumpee did not have the information. But they had lied, hoping it would lure Whumper out into the open and the team could catch them.

And Whumpee's plan had worked. Sort of. They just hadn't accounted for Whumper's determination to eliminate a threat with minimal effort. And taking Whumpee when they had been home alone sleeping had been their perfect opportunity.

Whumpee just focused on their breathing. Focused on trying to control their heartbeat. Focused on anything to keep themself awake. And alive.

Distant sounds of banging and a struggle came, but Whumpee couldn't focus enough to care. Whatever it was, threat or not, it would make itself known to them eventually.

A banging came on the door to their cell. If Whumpee had the energy they would have jumped. As it was, they barely lifted their head. "Whumpee? Whumpee? Are you in there?" Caretaker's voice was strained with worry.

Whumpee took as deep a breath as possible. "Here," they called weakly, hoping it was loud enough for Caretaker to hear.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker called again.

Whumpee closed their eyes, drawing on their remaining strength. Caretaker needed to hear them. "HERE!"

Caretaker threw the door open just as Whumpee slumped forward. "WHUMPEE!" Caretaker rushed forward, the team on their heels. "Talk to me, Whumpee. Talk to me."

"Y're......'ere," Whumpee whispered. They closed their eyes and swallowed. They held on. Caretaker was here. Caretaker found them.

"I'm here. I'm here. Hold on, Whumpee. Hold on a bit longer. Help is on the way." Caretaker nodded to Teammate One. "Get them out of these chains. I don't like their respiration rate."

Teammate One nodded and went to work while Teammate Two searched the room. "Boss," they said carefully as they found the modified cattle prod. "I think I know what's wrong with Whumpee."

That's good, Whumpee thought as the darkness that had been threatening to consume them inched ever closer. I can't breathe enough to speak.

"Got 'em," Teammate One said triumphantly as they unlocked the padlock on the coils of chains.

Whumpee sagged forward in the chains as their breath went out in a sigh. Finally.

Caretaker could hear Whumpee's rasping breaths becoming more and more irregular. As they looked at the cattle prod in Teammate Two's hand, their heart beat quickened. "We have no time to lose!" They scooped up the limp and pliable Whumpee into their arms and started to run. They wouldn't lose Whumpee now. Not after everything.

"Hold on, Whumpee, hold on," they murmured as they ran. "Hold on."