#“I will not let the pure shatter like I have.”
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15.5 . . . “ the memory engraved in my body ”
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
— 🍷 his side story, chapter 15. this is the one you need to reach alfons bond level 22+ with in order to purchase.
— cw: alcohol consumption.
Alfons: And to see you deceived just like that——I see you don’t really hold that thing called ‘love’ for me.
Kate: ...!!
I chose words that would purposely hurt.
Just like that, her eyes wavered, teary.
Kate: I... I really, truly—!
Alfons: Loved me? ...Or what, did you mean to say love?
I asked, a mocking tone in my voice, and her palms, which had pushed against my chest, gripped tightly at my shirt, causing it to wrinkle.
It would be nice were she to throw away these feelings she had toward me on her own volition, but——
(Reality just isn’t so nice, after all.)
Kate: Just why... would you do such a thing...?
K: Why do you have to reject me so much... just over me saying ‘I love you’?
Tears fell from her cheeks as she spoke from above.
They were very much like stars falling from the night — so pure, and so beautiful.
(——So much so, it’s like the moment I touched her, I would end up getting burned.)
Kate: Not once did I say we had to be official.
K: All I wanted was to like you, and be by your side… and yet…
Alfons: …Because I find it a nuisance.
A: The fact you had fallen for me, and the fact you like me even now... all of it.
I used those sharp words to deeply pierce through her heart.
Such words seemed like such a sin toward her straightforward feelings,
and, compared to her words, which so resembled pure stars, mine were akin to shattered glass sinking down the gutters of a back alley.
Alfons: All this was meant to be was an entertainment that lasts but a month, and then letting it end the same way.
Kate left the room, and when I descended the crumbling staircase,
The friend with a wound on his eye was standing at the entrance to the hidden, dilapidated room.
Man with a wound over his eye: To think you suddenly came in with a memo saying ‘Stay at the pub until I call you. If you come then, your drink’s on me’——
Man with a wound over his eye: I was wondering what in the world was going on.
Alfons: Hehe... thank you for your cooperation on that matter.
Man with a wound over his eye: If getting perfumed and greeting a lady when she woke up was all it took for some free booze, anyone would do it.
Man with a wound over his eye: So it was to get that ‘little robin’ to give up on you?
Man with a wound over his eye: You always up and run away, fading right out, so if she could make you go to this length, well what a lady she must be.
Alfons: Indeed, you can tell me that again.
I could dodge her at every turn, push her away, but she would still put her energy into her love without so much as getting discouraged,
so left with no other choice I threw away what little of a good heart I had left to break her to pieces.
(Unable to deceive herself into thinking this wasn’t love, but instead all a misunderstanding...)
(What a poor, darling little miss robin.)
Man with a wound over his eye: If you wanted me to make love to her for real, though, I would be fine with that too.
Alfons: Now that won’t do. I’ll have you know despite all appearances, I happen to be a gentleman who despises hurting women.
Man with a wound over his eye: ...I doubt that.
Alfons: Do you now?
Man with a wound over his eye: How would I know. Well, I’ll leave the payment to you.
My friend didn’t bother to seek the truth, instead leaving the conversation like that and disappeared into the night city while laughing.
——This pub was open 24 hours, so it was lively regardless of time.
Exchanging greetings with several acquaintances and taking a seat, the bar master lifted his brow, as though exasperated.
Bar master: And here I thought you wouldn’t come back til the morning. You’re back early, aren’t you?
Alfons: I so dearly missed seeing your face, you see.
Bar master: I’m anything but happy being missed by an arsehole. Pay up for that friend of yours.
Alfons: Goodness, so cold.
While making small talk, from the back of my mind, I remembered her, who had been sitting next to me just a few hours before.
—— Flashback ——
Kate: Alfons...
K: ...I won’t put the blame on you or anything else anymore...
K: So please, make love to me.
—— End flashback ——
—— Flashback ——
Kate: Just how bloody cruel can you get...!!
K: I don’t understand, why would you lie to me like this!? Help me understand...
—— End flashback ——
She did not say, ‘Why did you do such a cruel thing’——but rather, ‘Why did you say such a lie?’
From the start, she had seen through my lie that another man had made love to her.
(...Just where did I slip up?)
(I stayed silent... could it be body temperature? Or the shape of my body? The movements? Or smell?)
At the very least——even if she couldn’t see with her eyes, she was able to confirm that it was indeed me.
All that to say, there was no doubt that the memory of me had been engraved in her body.
Bar master: That’s a pretty long face.
Alfons: That it is, could I ask for your consolations?
Bar master: Of course, this is a shop to share such things. For a price, that is. What’ll it be?
Alfons: Quite stingy now, aren’t we... well then, I’ll have a sherry perhaps. Any type is fine.
Bar master: A sherry? Not every day you get that.
Alfons: ...Is that so?
Indeed, I felt that I normally didn’t drink sherry.
That said, I sought out the intoxication from the liquor, so I wasn’t so caught up on the type it was.
Yet the name had slipped so easily out of my mouth, I tilted my head as I took the glass filled with a dark mahogany color liquor.
The moment I took in that mellow, sweet scent though, I remembered.
(Ahh... this was the liquor that she had drunk this afternoon, isn’t it.)
—— Flashback ——
Kate: I... don’t like it... when others touch you...
K: ...Whatever, I know I’m... just like a kid t’you...
—— End flashback ——
(...Considering she was downing this sweet sherry, I would say her taste is like that of a kid’s.)
When my lips met with her, who was still blindfolded, her tongue did indeed have the sweet taste of the sherry.
But, for a reason beyond me, I felt that the kiss I shared with her was far sweeter than the liquor I was drinking now.
Alfons: ...Master, could you see if the carriage at the back of the shop is still there?
Bar master: What? Don’t go ordering the bar master around like that.
Alfons: I’ll get your mooost expensive liquor. In a bottle.
Bar master: ...How many?
Alfons: How does ten sound?
The bar master clicked his tongue and flipped a middle finger at me before leaving the back to the alleyway and coming back the next moment and shaking his head.
Bar master: It’s not here anymore.
Alfons: Is that so, then that’s a relief.
Bar master: Is it the lady who drank with you that went on the carriage?
Alfons: You’re quite in the know, aren’t you?
Bar master: Sending her back alone in the wee hours of evening, some sexyman you are.
Alfons: That’s just how it is.
Bar master: ...If you care about her enough to prepare a carriage, the least you could do is send her off.
Alfons: ‘Care,’ huh... I suppose.
A: I didn’t want to put her in any physical danger,
A: but I did need to instill so much shock in her that she would want to forget it all... so it was all a necessary measure.
Bar master: Not so sure what you’re getting at there, but what I do get is that you’re one hell of a shitty bastard.
Alfons: Ahha! I would expect nothing less from you, master, knowing me to the tee.
It took time for memories to fade.
That went for the memory of me engraved in her body... and the memory of her in mine.
But time seemed to have a knack for passing like it was melting away, unexpectedly so.
If she was going to go back to her uneventful, warm everyday life from long ago, then even more so.
Alfons: ...It would be great if you could find a man who can heal the wounds of a lost love and become happy.
Before I knew it, the glass in my hand was empty.
The sweet flavor of the sherry lingered on my tongue, staying there without fading away for eternity.
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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!
#its kinda unfortunate that this is the his side story#you need bond level 22+ on#like i think this is the one bond story you need#well in my opinion anyway#but in case you arent there or dont wanna grind#here ya go!#ikemen villains#ikevil#イケメンヴィラン#ikevil alfons#ikevil alfons sylvatica#alfons sylvatica#ikemen villains alfons#cybird ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikemen series#otome game#otome#ikevil translation#ikevil translations#div: cafekitsune
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jack only has a moment to process aspen’s apology before he’s being honest with her. at first, it feels as though she was lured into the superstar’s car only for him to spew a halfhearted apology at her. all signs were telling jack to slam her walls back up, to shut aspen out before her vulnerability is picked at like a fresh wound. working in the comedy world, jack had to learn early to have a thick skin. one of the first lessons she learned was that not everyone was going to like you, no matter how hard you tried to make them laugh. there could be a million reasons an audience member doesn’t resonate with your set. she was used to rejection — she just wasn’t used to wanting something so badly that the rejection stung this much.
still… it was aspen. the same man who asked for her number immediately after man down hosted friday night frenzy. who spent his saturday nights with jack watching shitty horror movies when she was too tired to go out. besides the kiss situation, aspen had been a good friend to her. it was rare to find someone in the industry who she could drop her walls around. jack was so close to dropping them around him, it wouldn’t be fair to seal them back up over an impulsive choice that he’s clearly sorry for.
between his apology and the way aspen is talking about his ex, jack nearly misses the confession that leaves his lips. i don’t want it to be complicated anymore. she lets out a sigh of relief, eyes shifting from the line of cars in front of them to the auburn-haired man beside her. she hated complicated. jack loved routine — she liked to wake up and know what the day held for her. when complications got in the way, it only led to her second guessing herself. it could be something as simple as craft services running out of her daily oatmeal. the entire night had been beyond complicated and the idea of uncomplicating it sounded like a dream.
jack turned in her seat, back pressed against the door as aspen began saying everything she wanted to hear on the trampoline. it was her turn to stare silently as the other spoke, basking in the confession she’d been longing for since she noticed her intense crush. “you meant it?” she repeated his words back to him, unable to form any other thought. it felt like she was in a dream — one that felt too real, like she’d wake up at any moment and come crashing back to reality.
she knew she couldn’t stay mad forever, especially now that she held aspen’s apology in her hands. it was as though he was holding out his heart, hopeful that jack wouldn’t shatter it to a million pieces. there were a few ways she could react. she could try and salvage as much of their friendship as she could by brushing the entire night under the rug. or, she could take the risk and add a few more complications to her life. opening her heart up to someone, for one. never knowing exactly where she stood, for another. though she was scared, her heart kept reminding her of who she was dealing with. it was aspen — one of the only people who knew her and stuck around. he was unlike any man she knew — he wouldn’t just disappear out of thin air or leave in the night.
“that was stupid — purely because of the location. talk about shitty timing. what am i supposed to do now? sit and think about the fact that you want to kiss me for the next fifteen minutes?” she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. she just kept staring, even when the cars in front of them slowly lurched forward. “it’s not like anyone would see us with the ridiculous tint you put on your windows.” she pointed out, tapping on the window for good measure. jack knew it was for privacy reasons, but when she was nervous, she resorted to comedy.
“put the car in park.” jack instructed, removing her balled up fist from her lap. she loosened her grip, covering aspen’s hand with her own on the gearshift. “and kiss me again, aspen.”
he internally groans as he pulls up behind the slew of cars lined up in the drive-thru. it's his fault, because he insisted on bringing her here. maybe this is fate's way of punishing him, eternally damned to be stuck in the confines of his car with jack forever. this must be his purgatory.
❛ i’m sorry. ❜ he says, because he realizes he never actually said it. listens to her intently, her words goading him along and leading him to believe that he’s special. because who else deserves to be adored by jack if not him? pink lips press into a lined smile, pensive, because aspen cares about her, too ---- in the same exact way, he’s just too afraid of himself to outright admit that, too afraid to admit that he harbors a god-forbidden overwhelming urge to kiss her in this moment, too. and that it really has nothing to do with his ex anymore.
really, he just wants to kiss her.
❛ you want me to be honest with you, jack? ❜ a beat, shifts in his seat to face her completely. ❛ i don’t know what i want. i don’t know what i want from her. i don’t think i want to get back with her, anymore. ❜ and there it is, the second most important revelation he’s been keeping himself from realizing all night ( the first being his overwhelming feelings for jack, of course. ) ❛ just. seeing her with someone else, the way the break up went, and other things ---- ❜ his eyes linger on her, as if he’s signifying something, hoping his eyes say the words he can't possibly bring himself to say in this moment. ❛ everything’s so complicated. ❜ he doesn’t do complicated, he makes things simple. complications bring mayhem. exhibit a: aspen kissing jack in front of everyone. exhibit b: aspen hopelessly trying to shove his feelings for jack back down his throat. that one’s happening now.
❛ i don’t want it to be complicated anymore. ❜
he says it like jack holds the god-willing answer to everything. like she could be his everything. says it like he’s not the obstacle holding himself from her, says it like he’s not hopelessly trying to hold himself back from something he knows he doesn’t really deserve.
blue eyes take in the solemn spirit that has settled over her features. truly begins to realize the extent of his actions, as if he already wasn’t painfully aware before. and he realizes something heart-wrenching in this moment:
he would kiss her again if he has to. he will kiss her again if he has to. and maybe this night will end without her truly knowing the extent of his feelings for her. maybe he is fearful enough to let that happen. for the sake of keeping things simple. for the sake of being a no-complications man. can he really do that? ignore the silence that has filled in the cracks of his heart? allow himself to lay down flat on the ground for jack to walk right over him and pass him by? can he allow his heart to break more than it has? chip away at the tiny pieces until they break apart into even tinier ones, until the once beating vessel transforms into smithereens?
no. he cannot.
❛ ---- when i said that this is doing something to me too. . . ❜ words are spoken at the slow moving line of cars ahead of them, emotionless. can't even will himself to look her in the eyes as he's saying this. ❛ i meant it. ❜
❛ i know it sounds dumb and you probably don't believe me because i brushed you off on the trampoline. and honestly? i think that was the smartest choice. ❜ gaze falls on her once more, hopelessly trying to gauge her reaction, needs to fix the mess he's created head on. ❛ what i'm doing now is stupid. and i wanna kiss you again, just ---- when there's no one around. and i should probably shut up because i have to be stuck in this car with you for like the next fifteen minutes. ❜ yeah, purgatory.
#longest reply ive ever written and i didnt proofread one word of it#if u see mistakes... pretend u dont for me#╰ thread ♡ jack baker#manybruises
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realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards
*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#danny fenton is a clone#like i dont even need to traumatize you worse the pure explorative options from this aLONE is enough to feed me for a week.#like. tucks hair behind ear let me shatter you into glass pieces then glue you back together babe. i can put you back together so good.#i'm missing a few shards because some parts of you broke into such small pieces i couldn't pick them back up again so you'll be missing a#few chunks of yourself that you'll never get back but that's okay. you'll still be a resemblance of your old self :]#don't let anakin (me) listen to late night sad songs he makes angst.#hhh imagine being stuck in a house for two weeks where you can hear your parents torturing ghosts in the basement and not only that but#you're the only person who can undERSTAND the ghosts. how many times did he see his parents drag in a ghost with whatever capturing device#they made recently? iirc the thermos was like. brand new in episode one right? but gOD the trauma this alone would cause#nobody touch me im cooking rn i need to think about how this would impact danny. like obvs it would fuel into a developing obsession to#keep his parents away from ghosts and to help the dead but what *else.* i need to refine my becoming phantom ficlet i wrote back in winter#raaa#and like even after two weeks they were *still capturing ghosts* danny just wasn't in the house 24/7 at the time.#*but those two fucking weeks man*#i need to sleep on this first before i make any major moves bc i know im tired but i am having thOUGHTs
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listening to the isat ost and i feel like im gonna explode
#im TRYING to PAINT but i keep having to take BREAKS BECAUSE (REDACTED SECRET BOSS THEME) IS MAKING ME WANNA SHATTER INTO A BAJILLION PIECES#words#also like i have thoughts so SPOILERS#but its so.#the trio of i wont let you go home/tell us tell us tell us/you want to stay with them is so#like it gets me in my feelings...#i wont let you go home is so desperate and despairing and frantic#and then tell us tell us tell us is like the immediate aftermath of a breakdown things dont feel real yet but youre calmed down now#it feels so tired and worn down but still hopeful#and you want to stay with them is just pure Comfort and its just. SIFFRIN. I CANT. I CANT HANDLE THIS#it feels muted though and it feels like youre getting covered in a big warm blanket#and its just lovely ahgh#the we're with you!/its finally over melody finally feels Complete and then its immediately emphasised with the its finally over reprise#I JUST. I LOVE THIS OST#AND NOT TO MENTION HOW CAN YOU HELP ME STARDUST THAT SONG IS SO#IT FEELS SO RESIGNED IT HURTS TO LISTEN TO#loops depression vs siffrins mania FIGHT#isat spoilers#ok im done now
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‘𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬’
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: everything the reader has consented to ahead of time! pure smut, monster fucking, role played breaking & entering, kidnapping (moving to a secondary location), masked ‘unknown’ robbers, established relationship with satoru, planned kinky event, knife play, blood, marking, name branding, biting, toys, hunting/chasing, some fear play, drugging, manhandling, blindfolding akak bag on head, some light bondage, begging, heavy degradation/some praise/taunting/teasing, dumbification/mind break, light cervix fucking, double dick!suguru, double dick!satoru, light semi-public nudity - you're carried to the car naked in the middle of the night (not caught), reader quickly loses all shame and just wants to be pounded and passed around, triple stuffing reader's cunt, anal, anal fingering, some anal prep, suguru has his tongue pierced, reader gets turned into a succubus, pussy slapping, they are mean but kind of sweet at times, one face slap
𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 20 minutes - 5.7k
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: anything fucked up with geto, gojo, toji shiu?
A loud bang and the glass of your balcony door shattering jolts you awake. You barely have time to register how it happened a muscular masked man is pinning you to your bed, holding a knife to your neck. "Caught ya." Your heart pounds as he glides the knife’s tip to your collarbones. There's a cunt soaking thrill to the cool knife's sharp edge.
He croons, "Your little heart is beatin’ so loudly doll, ya scared?” He's massive, weighing heavily on your thighs.
Fighting the urge to writhe when he drags the blade across. Increasing the pressure till your skin splits and a bit of blood beads up along the wound. You're moaning, it's whiny and needy.
Grabbing his wrist, digging your nails in. His gaze drops to your lips. "Sounds like ya enjoyed that, moan like that again n' you'll get my cock hard." Trailing the knife up, towards your neck, tilting your head back into your puffy pillow.
The stinging pain is going straight to your cunt, making her tingle. You're barely able to shift your hips, or even close them. Keeping them spread apart, his clothed cockhead rubbing your clit.
He pulls his mask up, groaning. Your cunt clenches from the obscene deep sound. The moonlight shining through the broken window illumines a beautiful, scarred smirk. Your eyes widen as four sharp fangs emerge, stretching to their full length.
You want him to bite you. He lifts your short nightgown with the knife's tip. “Aw I found a pretty dirty slut." Stopping beneath your breasts, giving you a short, shallow cut. "N' here I thought I was just gonna get some dinner then leave." He grinds his hips, rubbing your bare puff clit with his cock. "You're sweet ass has dessert for me."
His thin sweatpants barely separate his cock from your cunt. He's warm and thick. Rolling his hips, gliding his cock head along your slit. Biting your lip, holding back a moan. Fantasizing about how deep his fat cock could split you open.
He moans, "Lemme hear your pretty moans, don't be shy now when you're creamin' yourself over me.” Licking your wound, his tongue unnaturally cold. You shiver, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. Whimpering, lightly grinding your soaking cunt on his thick, hard cock. His weight on your thighs keeps you from freely moving.
Grazing your neck with the sharp tip of his fangs. Tilting your head to the side, eager for him to bite. "You're too easy, want me that badly already." Roughly biting down, his four fangs in your neck shouldn't feel so good.
Spreading your fingers, groping his hard pec. Digging in your nails, he whines roughly grinding his hips. Sliding your hand down his washboard abs, he flexes, the lines defining his abs deepening. "Beg n' I'll let you have my fat cock after I drink my fill." Leaning back, shifting to straddle your hips. Letting you grind your hips better.
Another man states, "Can smell her dripping wet cunt downstairs." The man turns on the overhead light, walking over to stand at the side of your bed. Your body flushes with heat at how you're found. Grinding your bare cunt on a masked intruder's clothed cock. With your nightgown halfway pulled up.
The white masked man croons, "Poor horny little slut, so desperate for some cock. Is Toji teasing you too much?" Toji holding the knife to your neck doesn't stop you from turning your head to look at the second intruder.
Admiring their sculpted, muscular pale chest, and beautiful v-line leaning into his dark gym shorts. His cock is hard, standing up straight, his gym shorts straining over his head. Fondling his cock, moaning, his veiny hands inked up to his mid-forearms. With an ancient language, you've seen pictures of inscribed stone stabs in history books.
He yanks your dress up over your breast. Toji dips his head. Sinking his fangs into your breast, flicking your nipple with a cold tongue. Groaning when your warm blood trickles into his mouth.
Grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, pressing your thighs together. Grinding your sloppy wet cunt, his cock head catches on your tight hole. At this angle, his thick cock head won't slip it. Whining, twisting your hips, reaching out to jerk the second masked intruder.
He steps out of your reach, slipping his gym shorts down. His cock pops out, standing up, long, pale, and veiny. Toji moves the knife, holding it next to your fast. Switching to your other breast, biting next to your nipple. Which he pinches to hear you whine.
When the other beautiful man comes closer you smear his pre-cum with a swirl of your thumb. You can feel his quick heartbeat in his puffy veins when you firmly squeeze his cock.
A third man gloats, "Told you she'd be a freaky slut." Standing on the other side of the bed. His long dark hair is in a messy bun. He looks down at you with condescending dark eyes making your body hot and your cunt wet.
Sneering, "Already she's grinding her needy cunt on his cock, when we just busted in." He takes the knife from Toji, who grabs his cock swiping your clit with his head. Tugging his hair, he pulls away, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.
Gathering your blood on your thumb, holding it to Toji's lips for him to lick clean. "Satoru she's not even questioning what we are, why we are here. What we are going to do with her." Toji slips your finger out of his mouth, leaning back. Stilling his hips, leaving his hard, veiny cock pressed to your soaking wet cunt, clenching.
Satoru croons, "Pretty pathetic little slut." Your cunt clenches around nothing when he lets out a breathy, needy whine. Jerking his hips, swirling your hand, pumping your hand faster. Swiping your fingers over his sensitive pale pink head.
Questioning them, "What of it?" The third man slides the knife beneath your chin, adding pressure. Roughly swallowing, biting back your attitude. "I'll be good, don't care what you are, we'll figure out how to put something in somewhere." Satoru snickers, sliding his cock out of your hand.
He tugs his shorts up and unfolds a dark cloth bag from his pocket. Toji grabs your wrists, quickly binding them together with rough rope. He moves to the side, yanking your body up by your bound wrists.
The bag is swiftly placed over your head, tightening it around your neck. Ripping an airhole for your nose and mouth. Nudging your lips, you open your mouth for someone's long thick fingers. Swirling your tongue around them till they glide them out.
Toji rips through your sleepwear grumbling, "Fuck your shitty nightgown." Roughly yanking you off the bed. Unexpecting the sudden tug and unable to see you stumble on your feet. Getting yourself thrown over a shoulder, and a rough smack on the ass.
Jerking, whining, "Harder! Please! I'm beggin' for it, want you to make my ass sore." Earning a painful, sharp smack, your cunt flutters. You're aching for more sweet stinging pain as it settles to a warm ache. You can make out the shape of his hand.
Carrying you down the stairs, turning towards the right. They are taking you towards the front door. You'll be outside naked and bound with a bag over your head. You're too horny to be embarrassed. Reasoning it's too late for anyone to be out.
Toji swears, "Damn Satoru you did a number on this door. Don't think any is left on the frame." Thinking twice about protesting over your apparently busted front door. Due to the precarious poition you in with these three men.
Shivering in the cool night air, you hear a car door open.
Satoru reasons, "It shouldn't have looked ugly." The car softly purrs, coming to life. Another car door, he slips you off their shoulder, roughly shoving you into the car. Like you're an object they're storing in the back.
Your face plants into the cold leather. Shifting in the seat, momentarily struggling with your hands to sit upright. When one grabs you by the bag on your head, tugging you up right. The ties keeping it secured on your head dig into your neck until he lets go.
Begging whoever, "Lemme choke on your cock." You hear them shifting in their seat. He pushes your head down moments later. A thick warm cock head nudging your lips. Opening your mouth, groaning around his head, swirling your tongue.
Laying your tongue flat, taking his fat head, thicker head than the one previously in your hand. Toji momentarily holds your head down, gagging you. You'd fondle his balls if your wrists weren't tied.
You hear the soft pulsing of a toy. Eager for Satoru to play with your soaking wet cunt you put your ass up in the air. Satoru spreads your lips with his fingers. "Dirty slut doesn't even care where she's bein' takin." Gliding a thin, pulsing dildo into your cunt. Its head is a small tip, gradually thickening.
Moaning around Toji's cock, clenching the toy. Its soft bumps on the bottom stroking your sweet spot. Satoru groans, "Suguru can we keep her? She has her pretty little glory holes in my face " He pumps the toy faster, purposefully angling it down. Ensuring to stroke your sweet spot to make your cunt fluster.
Trembling, folding your arms, propping yourself up on your bound clasped fists. Bobbing your head faster on Toji's cock. Suguru decides, "You'll have to turn her, vampire or incubus doesn't matter, otherwise you'll break her before the sun rises." You hear the car rev as he speeds up.
Satoru grabs your ass, digging in his nails, biting your other cheek. Toji's cock muffles your whine, he holds your head down. Forcing you to take every inch, burying his cock deep in your throat. Your eyes water, jaw aching from stretching so wide to take him.
Gliding his cock out, roughly breathing. Toji questions, "Whatya say, wanna be our pretty cock sleeve succubus live on taking our cum. Think it's fittin' with how quickly you started groping my tits n' grinding your sloppy cunt on my cock." He rips the hole in the bag wider, spitting on your lips.
Licking your lips clean, pleading with them, "Turn me into a pretty cock sucker you can keep around to stuff full of cum." Satoru pulls you onto his lap, the inhuman dildo pulsing in your cunt. Sitting in his lap keeping the toy stuffed in deep.
Your cunt spasming, clenching the toy. Satoru yanks your head back by the bag on your head. Biting underneath your collarbone, his fangs are shorter than Toji's. With only two on top, the sharp pain becomes a sweet tingle.
Your body becomes hotter, and the intensity of the heat concentrates between your legs. Soaking Satoru's gym shorts, rocking your hips, shifting the pulsing toy in your needy cunt. Pulling away, licking the drops of blood welling up from the small inflictions.
You moan, unable to think of anything as you're overcome by incomprehensible horniness. "Nng!" Satoru moves you to straddle his hips. Yanking you by your neck, arching your back, biting your breast by Toji's previous.
Crying from the short-lived searing pain, then an intense wave of pleasure akin to cumming has you trembling. "Aren't you giving her too much, don't wanna kill her before we have our fun." Satoru grabs the dildo, fucking your sloppy wet cunt,
Giving you a couple pumps before your overly sensitive cunt gushes. Soaking through Satoru's gym shorts. He groans, licking the wound, scraping your nipple with his fang, Biting beneath, injecting you with more venom.
Your eyes roll back, and your body quivers. You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Your slick trickling down your thighs. Satoru fucks your sloppy, sensitive cunt with the dildo faster. Licking up to your clit, suckling and groaning.
Pulling away with a pop, "She can take it like she's gonna take both my cocks." Satoru ribs the bag off your head, roughly kissing you. Slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moan. He tastes of blood and strawberry lollipops.
Suguru roughly pulls the car off the road, parking it. "Out. I'm not listening to both of you have fun while I get blue balls." Satoru pulls away, gliding the dildo out. Turning it off, holding it up your lips, ignoring Suguru's demand to get out of the car.
Licking it clean, wrapping your lips, gliding it deep into your mouth. Pumping past your lips, groaning, "You pretty lips are gonna look good wrapping around my cock." He slides it out of your mouth with a soft pop.
You hear two doors slam shut one after another, leaving Satoru and you in the car. He cradles your head, it's spinning. Resting your head in his large hand, your cunt drooling on his lap. Clenching around nothing, you want to cum again despite squirting.
Satoru urges you, "That warmth," another gentle kiss, "The horniness don't fight it. Let it take over, you can be my beautiful greedy little cock whore for centuries." He trails kisses along your neck.
Slowly sinking his fangs in, jolting, whining from another injection. Placing your bound wrists on his thick pecs. Wishing you could run your fingers through his soft-looking snow-white hair.
"Wanna be your favorite cocksleeve." Your gums momentarily ache, your teeth making room for a pair of sprouting fangs. Satoru pulls away, pushing your top lip up with his thumb, crooning, "Aw already getting fangs." He drops his hands to the rope around your wrist.
Without thinking you lurch forward, biting into Satoru's neck. The car door opens, and Toji sneers, "Some kidnapper you are, clinging to her while she sinkin' her fangs into ya neck." Satoru groans, holding the back of your head, fondling your squishy ass cheek.
He groans, "Nn harder." Biting his thick pec with the possessive intent of marking him. "Is it really kidnapping when the slut would've walked out the door with us if not for the bag on her head." Satoru's blood is sweet, filling your mouth. You should be repulsed but can't help but drink another mouthful.
Three men bust in shirtless, with beautifully muscular bodies and within seconds you were thinking with your needy cunt. He wasn't wrong. You'd happily let them carry you off to wherever and keep you for however long if you got your cunt pounded by them.
"Bet she wouldn't but still, she was only meant to pretty blood bag. N' we couldn't risk our pretty dinner knowing where she's at." Toji grabs your hair, pulling you off Satoru. His blood trickles down his chest, following the middle groove of his abs.
Smiling in a lustful daze, "She's too beautiful to let go." Thick black horns sprout from his head, contrasting his bright hair. They twist in a loop, pointing back. His features sharpen, eyes glowing similar to his tattoo. Which spreads up his arms, onto his pecs.
Toji pulls you back for Satoru to step out of the car, shutting the door behind himself. "We both bite each other, that means once I fill her sloppy cunt full of cum, I'll be hers'." The large pale moon in the skin illuminates Satoru's beautiful blushing face.
His smile is breathtaking, this beautiful incubus will be yours. You could taste his lust vanilla and honey. Toji lets go of your hair, dropping on your knees in front of Satoru. Looking up at him, pleading "I want to make you mine n' cum on your cocks. Wanna be yours." Satoru pushes his wet shorts down. He has two beautiful long, pale cocks, both of them standing up.
Suguru pulls you to your fist, slicing the rope, and freeing your hands. "I told Shiu we are hunting the slut we found." Twisting you around to face the spare woods. "By the time she finishes her head start he'll be here." Harshly slapping your ass, making you stumble forward. Leafs crunch beneath your feet.
The initial intense haze of the venom first affects level out. Helping you to latch onto their words with better clarity than before. Which your cunt throbbing with an unbearable neediness infringes upon.
You need to cum, it's borderline painful to not have one of them playing with your cunt. Slipping your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit. Clenching your thighs together. Moaning, "Whoever gets me first decides who gets to go when! Don't make me wait too long!" Missing the stimulation, the second you stop touching yourself.
Darting into the woods, the trees pass you quicker than they should. You've seen bright full moons in the past, but this was unlike anything else. You could see the bark, moss, rocks, and branches clearly. Acutely feeling the leaves crunching and the damp earth.
Pushing yourself to run faster when you hear a thunderous crack of a tree splitting in two. It doesn't hit the ground until a few minutes later, knocking over several more trees.
Were they fighting each other to get to you? They might not be beyond throwing a few punches towards each other. At any moment one of them could show up, pin you to the tree and do what the wished. Whilst you'll beg them for more.
Struggling to stop, kicking up some dirt. Standing in front of you is a handsome man with a scruffy face, holding a cigarette. "So you're the pretty little thing we're playin' with. Shame to end the game now, run." Taking a step back, the wind picks up carrying the subtle scent of his lust.
It's similar to a bittersweet mixture of dark and milk chocolate, with a hint of sweet caramel. He's mouth-watering, his must be Shiu. He's making no move to catch you, admiring you in the moon light taking a puff off his cig.
"Run." His demand reminds you at any moment the other three could catch up. Taking off running past him, biting into your bottom lip. Hoping one of them would catch you soon and use your mouth and cunt.
Breaking out of the tree line into a wide clearing of tall yellow flowers. A cabin lies on the other side of a large glittering lake. Toji stands in the field's center, waiting for you. Taking off towards the right, the back of your neck tingles when he's about to grab it. Trusting your instinct and ducking, scrambling out of his reach.
Looking over your shoulder, Toji's still close, about to catch you. When you run into Satoru, who appears in front of you within seconds. Wrapping his arms around your waist, flapping white feathery wings. Flying out of Toji's reach.
"I win! Haha HA!" His pupils are wide. He's high off your previous bites. Your venom coursing through his muscular body. "You smell so fuckin' sweet." He grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side. "Your neck looks prettier covered in bitemarks." Whining from the sweet pain of Satoru puncturing Toji's bite.
Grabbing a handful of his soft white hair. Wrapping your legs around his waist. Digging your nails into his back between his wings. Grazing the base of his left wing. He whines, his wings shuttering, the two of you slightly dropping before he steadies himself.
Landing on his feet, pinning you to the closest tree. Pulling away from your neck, licking up the blood. "I can't go much longer without feeling her tight, sloppy wet cunt clenching my cocks together. Sug can help me break her before Shiu and your ass as a chance." Squeezing your neck with his long, thin fingers, tugging on your thigh.
Unwrapping your legs, and standing up, he pulls you away from the tree. Pinning you to Suguru's chest, he massages both your cheeks. His fingers getting closer to your sloppy cunt.
Toji points out, "Look at her, she'll still be begging for more after the two of you. Don't think you can satisfy a greedy whore like her when she's turning." Gliding your hand along Satoru's hard sculpted side. Trailing your fingers along his abs, grabbing one of his cocks.
Smearing his pre-cum by slowly swirling your thumb. He is dripping so much, swirling your hand halfway down his cock. "Please stuff my cunt, fingers, tongue or cock don't care. Need someone to play with my cunt it hurts." Suguru's thick fingers are so close to your puffy lips.
Shifting your hips, Suguru pulls his fingers away, lightly massaging your cheek. Satoru glides his cock out of your hands. "Play with my cunt it hurts, poor little slut." He smacks your cunt, twisting your hips back. "How this?" Suguru tightens his grasp making you take five punishing wet slaps.
Trembling, knee buckling, your clit and lips stinging, cunt quivering. Your eyes water, "Please, that's not what I meant." Satoru mockingly frowns. Grabbing both cocks, matching the pace of your hands. Swirling your hand around his pale pink tip, smearing his pre-smear along his long veiny cock.
"But you said you didn't care." Pinching your cheeks. "What's wrong?" Suguru kneels behind you, biting your squishy cheek. You cry, jerking your hips forward. Satoru pinches your clit, and you shove his chest, forcing him to stumble back, smirking.
Suguru chimes, "Whore is getting some feist to her!" Satoru grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Satoru roughly slaps you across the face, kissing your aching cheek.
You hear the slick sound of Toji stroking his cock. You can taste his lust. Shiu states, "Bet she'd be able to take it harder than our normal slut." Your soaking wet cunt clenches from his breathy groan.
Toji bemoans, "It's tirin' havin' to hold back 'cause a bitch can't handle how hard I'm fuckin' her." Suguru pulls you onto his beautiful face by your hips. Steadily stroking your puffy clit, grinding your hips, moaning. Getting off on the pressure of Suguru's barbell swiping over your clit.
Suguru smears his thick spit on your asshole. Dipping his finger in, curling it, lubing up your other hole. Flicking your clit, faster with your tongue. Satoru watches in admiration as your beautiful face contorts with an expression of pleasure.
Loudly moaning, "Thank you! Please let me cum again, his tongue feels so good." Suguru glides another finger in, stretching your other hole apart. "Nnn his stretching my ass. We don't have lube! Nn fuck it feels so good thouuuugh don't!" Fucking your ass faster with both his thick fingers.
Keeping his barbell stroking your clit just right. The pressure is too perfect, trembling, rocking your hips. Suguru squeezes your hips, keeping you still. Begging, "Don't stop, faster, please!" His spit is thicker than a normal human, making your other hole and your clit tingle with intense pleasure.
Satoru fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tugging when you cry, arching your chest into his hand, he twists. "Don't worry, Suguru's spit is aphrodisiac-like and lubricate." Easing up on your nipples, gliding his cock out of your fist. Dipping down to kiss both nipples, sucking one into his mouth.
Soothing your aching nipple with his tongue, "Your little ass will be just fine." Suguru spreads his fingers apart, stretching your asshole. The sweet ache dulling with each pump of his finger. He groans on your clit.
Clenching Suguru's head, Shiu encourages, "Let me see you cum beautiful." Creaming on Suguru's tongue, pushing his head away. He groans, flicking his tongue faster. Whining, writhing from the intensity. You've never been this sensitive before.
"Whore moaning like she's never busted a nut before." Satoru lets your nipple go with a soft pop. Kissing the other one, when he stands up. You brace yourself on his thick pecs.
Crying when Suguru digs in his sharp claws to keep you from wiggling so much. Satoru bemuses, "Might as well feel like it, cumming while turning never stops feeling immensely pleasurable." Cupping Satoru's balls, sliding your hand over his abs, feeling him up.
He whines, "Beautiful little whore crying from cumming on his tongue." Your bitten breasts ache, the pain is sweet. His warm, soft fingers playing with your nipples, gently rubbing your nipples. You can feel each swipe in your cunt.
Suguru pulls away, adding a third finger. Whining jerking your hips away in an attempt to run from Suguru slowly finger fucking your asshole. He bites your slicked thigh so close to your cunt, his bites throb, a stinging pain shoots down your thigh, becoming a tingling numbness.
Your vision goes hazy, and your body becomes heavy. Seconds trickle by and the numbness fades. “After feigning concern over me giving her too much you drug her up like that. She’s going to break so quickly; our little whore is already so sensitive.” You can feel how deep his fangs are, how wide and sharp they are embedding into your soft thigh.
Toji croons, “Can our dumb slut speak?” Satoru grabs both wrists, looping your arms around his neck. Feebly clasping your hands, he grabs your waist holding your body up. Suguru licks your thigh with a loud groan. Pumping his fingers faster, spreading them out, stretching your asshole.
"Come on cock hungry whore tell them how your greedy cunt is aching to be stuffed full of Sug and I's cock." You can't register their words. Moaning, clenching Suguru's fingers.
Getting your ass prepped for his cock felt pleasure before. But as Suguru's venom takes into effect your ass has the sensitivity of getting your g spot fucked. When Satoru rubs your clit with his head, it is like your cumming instantly.
Your cunt spasming around nothing, slick dripping down your thigh. Immense, intoxicating pleasure consumes you. Leaving you a mindless, horny mess, wanting to cum on their cocks. Gently winding your fingers into Satoru's hair, Suguru grabs your neck with his clean hand.
Shiu bemoans, "We haven't even had a chance to fuck her stupid and she's a brain-dead slut already." Satoru slides his large hand over your hip, along your thigh. You struggle to lift your leg; he has to crouch to grab the backs of your knees.
He folds you in a mating press between his and Suguru's hard muscular chest. Helping Toji and Shiu watch him glide one of his cocks into you.
Suguru glides his fingers out of your ass, grabbing his cock, lining himself up. Groaning, watching his cock stretch your beautiful ass. You can't breathe enough to moan with Suguru's thick fingers crushing your neck.
One of Satoru's cocks is gliding along your clit. The second stretching your dripping wet, tight cunt, stroking your g-spot, hitting your cervix. Your toes curl as you cream on his cock. The lack of air makes your body tingle and adds to the mind-shattering ecstasy.
Satoru wonders, "That change makin' you that sensitive? I just put it in." Roughly fucking your sloppy wet, tight cunt. "Shiu you have a knife on you? I need to carve my initials into her beautiful tits. Mark her whore ass as mine." Shiu lets go of his thick cock, to get his knife out of his pants pockets. With his hand not coated in spit and pre-cum.
Tossing it to Satoru, who catches it without sparing a glance. He grabs one of your horns. "Did you even realize these have fully grown?" He trails his fingers up your horns to the tips, then back down to the base.
Shivering from his soft touch compared to his harsh thrust and the knife's tip trailing along your side. Suguru lets go of your neck, holding your cheek, fucking your sensitive ass faster. "Let me stuff my second cock in her other tight glory hole." Satoru pauses for Suguru to line his second cock up with your dripping cunt.
You clench both holes, loudly moaning. Suguru is thicker than Suguru's veiny cock. His head reaching just below Satoru's whose presses against your cervix with a greater pressure than before.
Satoru croons, "I think she can take another one in her greedy cunt. Her cunt won't break so quickly like she did, will it?" Satoru glides his cock out. Suguru grabs your other leg with his clean hand. Satoru holds his cocks together, lining them up. Slowly gliding them in.
You jolt, tensing up, scratching Satoru's chest. Your jaw dropping, crying your cunt stuffed too full of too many long, thick veiny cocks. The fourth on in your ass, making the thin strip of skin between both holes meaningless.
Toji groans, "Fuck dirty slut is taking so much!" Having to stop jerking his cock to keep himself from cumming before having his turn with you.
Satoru drags the knife along your aching breasts. Holding your head back by your horn. "I know you're too stupid to understand me but try your best to look me in the eyes." His too beautiful to look away from.
Dark horns poking out from his fluffy, messy white hair. Thin strands hang into his stunning glowing blue eyes. A cocky smirk on his kissable pale pink lips.
Satoru urges, "I want to see the beautiful look in your eyes when you cum on my cock." Shivering from the sharp edge of the knife on your nipple. Trapped between their broad, muscular chests, you can't squirm away.
You can taste Satoru's lust stronger than you can anyone else's. Faintly you can feel your own squishy cunt wrapping around his cock. Along with the pleasure that comes with having your soft, squishy cunt stroking his cocks.
Suguru and Satoru keep their pace even, triple stuffing your cunt. Whilst stuffing your tight ass. The pleasure is mounting with every sweet quick harsh stroke. "Nnng your lust tastes so fucking good. Only a perverted cock hungry brain-dead whore would get off on having her cunt stuffed this full." Satoru picks up his speed, with Suguru maintaining his.
Satoru's navel is rubbing your clit perfectly. Suguru groans, "Fuck dirty slut is stretched so wide yet so tight." Clenching their cocks, digging your nails into Satoru's chest.
Reaching back to slip your fingers into Suguru's silk, long dark hair. Until your reach the base of his horns. Wrapping your fingers around his sensitive horn’s base, he groans, passionate, raspy and deep.
Satoru whines, it's breathy, needy, making your cunt tingle. He croons, holding the knife to your neck. "I can feel how she's about to cum. Come on cock whore cream on ournnnng!" You're squirting before Satoru can finish. Thick, warm cum dripping down their balls.
Suguru's thick veiny cock in your ass, all three hard cocks in your sensitive cunt. You're a wreck, half their size, folded in half between them taking each thrust with a loud squelch from both holes.
"Shit I dont wanna cum this quickly!" Hot warm cum spurts from both heads. It's too much for your cunt to handle. "She feels so goddamn goooood! Cummin' so hard, nnnn fuck! fuck!" His thick cum is dripping out of your cock, making your stomach expand with a cum filled bulge.
You can feel Suguru's puffy veins pulse. "Nnn! Ahhh!" You still can't think, you're craving the addictive immense pleasure of cumming already. Their cocks pumping Satoru's cum deep into your stuffed, soaking wet cunt.
Fucking your tight ass and cum filled cunt faster. Suguru groans, "Moan louder dirty little whore! Pretty little sounds are getting me off, making my thick cocks throb." Satoru glides his overly sensitive, softening cocks out.
Satoru pushes on your stomach, and his cum spurts out like you squirting again. You're bouncing on Suguru's cock, a moaning, cock hungry mess. Clenching both holes Suguru's pace becomes sloppy. Rutting his cocks into your sloppy glory holes.
Suguru loudly groans, fucking his thick cum into your greedy cum. Quickly pulling out, letting some spurt onto your ass. They set you on your feet, and Satoru steadies you by your horn and hip.
Toji pips up, "Ready for more?" Your legs trembling, you're barely standing up. Your knees buckle and Satoru doesn't let you fall. Turning you around, pressing the night to your lower back. "I think the whore deserves a tramp stamp of my name instead." You don't have the energy to writhe when he carves a S into your back.
It's seconds without having one of them touch your cunt and your whining, "Please! Wanna cum!" Suguru smirks at you, slapping your cunt when Satoru finishes the first letter.
Pressing your thighs together, doubling over, Suguru switches out with Toji. He roughly grabs your horns, holding your head still. Lining his cock up, "Ya look starving for some cock" You wince when your fangs retract. Crying when Satoru carves an a into your lower back, Toji stuffs his cock into your mouth with a loud, deep groan.
Shiu grumbles, "Dirty fucking whore taking us all." He crouches next to you, stuffing four thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. Rubbing your clit with his thumb. He bites your outer thigh, his fangs have a slight curve to them, sinking in deep.
He groans as your blood fills his mouth, pumping his fingers fast. Finding your sweet spot, focusing on it. Pain and pleasure are becoming the same. Satoru smack your cum covered cheek. "Three more letters, and two more cocks to go." Moaning on Toji's cock, massaging his heavy balls.
Your cunt spasming around Shiu's relentless, quickly pumping fingers. Shiu doesn't bother to clean up the blood dripping down your thigh. Licking up your thigh, you slip your fingers into his short hair. "Cumming on my fingers that quickly?" Satoru quickly cuts the rest of his name into you.
Slipping his fingers in with Shiu's, matching his pace. "Once they finish with you, Sug and I are having another round. Have to test your new limits, see how much our pretty little succubus can handle." He gives your ass a rough smack and steps aside for Shiu to stand up behind you.
Gliding his fingers out of your cunt, grabbing your hips. Smearing your slick on his thick, veiny cock, lining himself up. Roughly slamming his cock into you, splitting your cunt open with no warning. "Perfect fuckin' glory hole you'd think she'd break after that but she's too tight 'round my cock." Toji groans gagging you with his cock, getting off on your neck squeezing his fat cock.
"I'm too big for her little throat. It almost hurts how she grippin' me. But it feels so good, sluts don't need to breathe right?" He shallowly pumps his hips, refusing to let you breathe. Grunting, "Stupid little succubus is gonna drain my balls dry with her pretty mouth."
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Two weeks had passed, with the apostle gone from view, claimed to be 'away on business'. No one knew where he went after his missions, only that he often was missing for a blissful time. Which left Wolfwood without the blue haired man to give him his mission brief. Instead receiving them from Conrad. It was meant to be a simple reconnaissance mission, nothing dangerous, just inspect the Plants of the city and report back. But of course, Lady Fate has a different plan. It had started with the cries of pleading women, of children begging for their mothers only to delve into a gunfight. A gang of traffickers had slid into town with their only goal being the school near the edge. Thirty men made light work of the wolf, if only for manpower and using the children as shields once they noted the hesitance. Grubby hands grabbed a pale skinned child who pried back, trying to break free as large tears stained the muddied face. "F-father Summers... Please..." his voice was small, broken as he's pulled close to the pig faced leader's sick grin, slurred words purring about the price the kid would fetch them. Others are grabbed as the soldier lay wounded beneath the weight of his Cross, under the weight of his weakness. The child is lifted, ready to be thrown into the van as the first victim- And that's when a familiar cacophony of shattering marrow rings out in the air. Soon followed by the harrowing cry of the leader now crumpling to the ground. From beyond his body, nothing showed, but any whom had felt that agony knew the misshapen formation of hand and knee. Steps near the wolf, the child's eyes lighting up as he scrambles away from the man. "You came!" he staggered, sunkissed hands darting from the corner of the broken's vision, snatching the youth behind their frame. There's silence, a fear struck into the eyes of the attackers before it drove them to a frenzied madness. Guns raised, ready to open fire only for bones to snap and bullets finding home in kin over innocents. Screams of horror and agony rose and suddenly stopped with a finality that were not of their own doing. Familiar heels tapped into view, stalking towards the damned on the ground, several writhing mutely in agony. "Marline. Take the children into the building. I wish them not to see this." the voice was powerful, a dark hatred hidden beneath the calm commanding tone followed swiftly by a woman calling for the children to rush to her, crowded away. The moment they were gone, the devout stalked closer still, bodies deforming the closer he got, one form scrambling from frightened will to the front of the vehicle until a hand snatches a throat, slamming him into the side furthest from the school. Something deep and cold is hissed only to the man in his grasp, a violence that resonated in the very air like a blackened aura of death. Soon, the vehicle peeled free, leaving the mangled corpses behind. A simple signal from a hand had figures rushing in, carding the ruined away. Finally, the boots turned to the saint, moving ever closer to the dimming vision before the form knelt. Hands guided the wolf to his back, the touch frighteningly tender in his dying state as the now revealed gold and bronze eyes looked on with a softness unseen. "Now is not your time." a crack resonated like a haunting repetition of weeks gone by, hands guiding the wounded pup to part his lips. "It will do no good for the young to see you like this." those words, murmured with such peace, the sweet sustenance of a glass vial found home in the dying frame. "Come back to us, little Wolf." it's a gentle plea rather than a command, a thumb idly brushing over the blood stained jaw as the man cradled the broken as he healed. "Breathe for me, Nicholas."
It had been a while since Wolfwood had been thrown - like a rag doll. He'd never get used to it. Every time he was broken, it felt like the first time… and like it would be the last time. He was prone to panic when darkness settled along the corners of his vision, always worried that he was living out the last few seconds of a life wasted; that he'd never be anything more or experience another good thing again.
Pain is almost a mercy as it distracts. It gives him something tangible to suffer through, instead of letting him sink into the EXISTENTIAL TERROR OF NOT BEING. 'Stay awake, feel it.' He tells himself as some organ on the inside ruptures, as his poor back collides against the unforgiving wall of a pew. A disc has slipped. 'Feel it,' he tells himself.
Nick still hollers; still cries sometimes… He screams as his hand is smashed under Legato's heel. he's not seasoned enough to be stoic when his extremities are mashed into a soup of broken bones and severed nerves. "Auuh!! GOD! I-!" His good hand snaps to Legato's ankle. As if its grip could stop Blue from twisting, as though he had any power to change the slow delivery of damage.
Wolfwood is wilting into the seat when his system is threaded. He communicates a weak moan because he expects to be pulled apart; to be needled through until the darkness comes. But the pain he receives only comes from being pre-broken. His body is inconveniently puppet-ed. He feels himself sit up, feels his neck crane. His jaw trembles open. Below its hypnotism, Wolfwood's chest jumps. His throat rolls with a frightened swallow as his tongue and teeth are placed on display.
Oh, Christ. What's this gonna be? What is he going to lose today? Or is it going to be worse than all that? Maybe it's not what he'll lose, but a nightmare he'll gain. Maybe he's going to get his mouth fu-
Legato shocks him with an offering of sacred blue serum. Wolfwood wants it so bad that he is immediately demoted to a beggar. He'd say 'please' if he was in control of his vocal cords. Instead, His breast leaps with something like hyperventilation. Or arousal. His good hand opens and closes absently. He knows that dose is going to free him from pain and fear.
He gulps it down like a baby bird when Legato delivers. Wolfwood gasped between swallows and morns a lost stream that spills from the corner of his mouth. His eyes pin themselves to Legato as he drinks. They are the only part of him that does not convey despair. Somehow, they are steady. Anchored perhaps, by confusion. They follow Legato. They ponder him frantically when the empty vile is pocketed and they try to understand the return to an alter of self-harm. They can't, but they try…
#v//The Faith and the Fighter (Legato Bluesummers)#nothinglikegod#Dirty Little Secret#“Now is not where you fall.”#“So long as I have a hand in this life.”#“I will not let the pure shatter like I have.”
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sincerely yours. (12)
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses
notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭
series masterlist -> episode thirteen
You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream.
Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it.
But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.
When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’.
That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that.
“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.”
His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”
Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?”
Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”
“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain.
“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.”
“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.”
Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.”
Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”
“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand.
But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.
As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”
Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her.
“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.”
“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..”
“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”
You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.
Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”
Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?
Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”
Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.
You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with.
“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.”
The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night?
The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment.
“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?”
“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.”
Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word.
The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again.
With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea.
——
Returning home didn’t make the situation any better.
Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you.
Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.
Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that.
“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart.
Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work.
Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click.
You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”
“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”
That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”
“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”
“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”
She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”
On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.
“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away.
“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction.
Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou.
The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you.
Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse.
“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but.
Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.”
“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”
Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”
Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”
Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.
“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”
“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point.
So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice.
And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro.
“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.
“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”
You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”
He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”
“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”
Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”
When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest.
Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened.
“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”
“Night night, mama.”
For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else.
Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat.
So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened.
That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched.
The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore.
——
There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win?
It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt.
“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.
“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life.
What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back?
“What are you doing here?” you asked.
And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”
You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.”
“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.”
Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.
The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard.
That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband.
“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”
Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?”
“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.”
“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”
She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.”
“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”
Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”
Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it.
In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today?
“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.
“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye.
But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.
“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.
“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”
Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!”
Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”
“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground.
——
Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news.
He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened.
His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want.
It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with.
Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance.
“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki.
The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.”
As always.
Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.
“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?”
Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.”
“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.”
Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”
Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”
The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”
“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”
Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back.
“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.”
“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.”
The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left.
“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”
Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.”
——
Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most?
You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death.
Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring.
“Y/N!”
You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”
Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”
“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”
“Y/N!”
Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.
“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.”
You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…”
“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.
All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you.
“Doctor, how’s he?”
“How’s my grandson, doc?”
“Doc, my son, is he okay?”
“Is he stable, doc?”
“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.
The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”
No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”
“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.
The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”
“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.
It’s my fault. It’s my fault!
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”
You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.
“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!”
Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”
Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”
But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation?
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”
You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible.
“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”
“You…!”
Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”
Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”
His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”
“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”
This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.
“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”
With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard.
Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.
Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID.
Akemi.
——
The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.
My precious angel.
Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.
Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.
The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”
You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you.
But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now?
Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he?
Resentment began to fester within you.
You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for.
And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.
You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?
The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.
It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child.
At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied.
At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you.
At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous.
At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth.
At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.
“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”
You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do.
And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”
You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”
“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.
“Hitting two birds with one stone.”
“Y/N…”
“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”
“But—”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”
“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”
You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.
So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”
“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears.
You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s.
“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”
——
Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside.
And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.
Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.
The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi.
“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.
“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”
Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”
Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”
A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”
He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”
Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”
Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”
Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”
The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.
Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.”
Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”
“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family.
Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.
Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”
Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”
Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”
As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else.
——
After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home.
It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions.
His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him.
“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”
The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”
“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?”
“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”
A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that.
Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you.
And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.
“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”
You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”
“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”
What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action.
“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”
It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe.
They were still.
You.
And the wind.
“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.”
#series: sincerely yours#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo angst#gojo x reader
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learning curve
alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.
—
How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it.
You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything.
It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy.
Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room.
“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked.
The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.
“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.”
It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison.
He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher.
“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated.
“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?”
“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything.
“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.”
“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.
Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again.
“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.”
“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?”
Another long silence.
“How long, Leo?”
“10-15 years.”
You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly.
“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”
“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”
Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it.
But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not.
“Are you sure? With your career and–”
“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.”
“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.
Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start.
“Amor?”
Right. That’s where you had to start.
You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this.
“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder.
“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”
“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you.
God this was hard.
“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”
“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.”
You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would.
“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her.
“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?”
You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”
“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop.
“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.”
“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.”
She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her.
“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.”
“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.”
“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt.
“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear.
“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now.
—
The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now.
It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him.
You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo.
But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself.
You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known.
Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan.
“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”
Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that.
“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.”
Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall.
The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies?
Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you.
“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small.
It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck.
“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I��ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least.
Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.
The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were.
Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever.
But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment.
—
“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel.
“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was.
“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?”
“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.”
“Is it a big plane?”
“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?”
Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.”
“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated.
“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old.
Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him.
“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–”
“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him.
“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?”
Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.”
You figured that was the best you’d get, for now.
—
“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill.
Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again.
“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?”
Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry.
You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.
Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed.
“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?”
Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”
“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice.
Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand.
“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.”
Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain.
Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something.
“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.”
Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open.
“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening.
“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.”
“And Alexia lives there?”
You nodded groggily.
“Does she speak Spanish?”
“She does, but she also speaks English.”
Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.”
At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.”
“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless.
“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.”
“Is she nice?”
“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again.
“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.”
With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him.
You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now.
Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words.
Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you.
God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again.
Almost.
—
Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on.
All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right.
And now they were Will’s.
Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself.
You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy.
There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this.
—
“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms.
You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”
You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help.
Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step.
Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face.
“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms.
“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags.
“Hi, Will.” She said gently.
Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face.
“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes.
“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off.
“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.”
You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do.
Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes.
“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could.
“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you.
“I missed you so much.” You cried.
“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face.
When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst.
“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment.
—
The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games?
The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom?
Toys, of course.
Books.
A desk?
A dresser? Or would the closet be enough?
God he would need more clothes.
And food that he'd like to eat.
And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right?
That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him.
“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping.
What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer.
With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you.
Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped.
A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp.
Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought.
Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him.
When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly.
“Too much?” She whispered.
You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her.
“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will.
“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace.
You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself.
“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.”
Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly.
“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.”
“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was.
“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently.
There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal.
—
JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)
#woso imagine#woso x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#kid fic
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My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
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have you ever been in love? - choi seungcheol
warnings: none
pairings: choi seungcheol x reader
genre: friends to ???
wc: 900
check out my masterlist!
"have you ever been in love?" you ask, your eyes still fixated on the carefree clouds drifting lazily through the night sky, illuminated by the city lights.
seungcheol chuckles softly, the sound getting caught in the cool breeze that surrounds you both. he takes another sip of his beer, masking the way his heart races. how much more obvious could he be? are you really that oblivious?
"i suppose i have," he answers, his voice steady and calm even as his eyes can't help but trace the outline of your face, the way your features soften in the moonlight.
"what's it like?" you turn your head slightly, curiosity written in your expression. he's not sure how he should feel about your question.
seungcheol pauses, thinking about the feeling he’s harbored for you for so long. "it’s... terrifying and exhilarating at the same time," he says, a wistful smile playing at his lips. "it feels like wanting to be someone's everything, wanting to make them smile even when the world feels too heavy for myself. it’s being so scared of losing them that it’s all you think about. but at the same time, it makes everything brighter. love changes the way you see things, you know?"
you take a moment to process his words, letting them sink in, before you say quietly, “i guess..i dont know.”
“have you ever been in love?” he asks carefully, its a past tense question so it shouldnt hurt….right?
"i'm...not sure if i’ve ever been in love before.. but lately, i’ve started feeling things i’ve never felt before, and i wonder if it’s love. that's why im asking you.”
seungcheol’s heart stops, breaking a little at the thought of you loving someone else. his voice comes out smaller, almost vulnerable. "does what you’re feelin…m-match what i said?"
you think for a moment and then nod slowly. "yeah," you admit, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks.
his breath catches & he feels his stomach churning. this isn't a past tense situation, this is present tense, NOW. "who is it?" he asks as his voice trembles. the 4 years he's spent pinning over you seems to have made him timid tonight, he's not usually like this, but still, he braces himself for an answer that he knows will shatter him.
you hesitate, your eyes finding his, sparkling with adoration. "you," you whisper, your voice firm with sincerity.
seungcheol’s eyes widen, and for a moment, the world stills. and then, without thinking, he’s reaching for you, the biggest smile breaking out on his face. "me?" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it.
you nod, "you...you like me too right?"
"like?" seungcheol laughs, finding humour in your choice of words, his laugh holds a hint of disbelief, his eyes crinkling with pure joy. "like?" he repeats, his voice still colored with amusement. "i don't just like you," he confesses, his voice growing softer, more sincere. "i've been completely, ridiculously in love with you."
you feel your heart skip a beat, disbelief and hope swirling in your chest. "really?" you whisper, your voice small, almost afraid that this moment could shatter like a delicate glass figurine.
his gaze softens as he reaches for your hand, his warm fingers intertwining with yours. "really," he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"did you really not notice?" he asks, "i almost started to think you knew but just didnt have the heart to reject me."
your cheeks flushes as you think about all the little moments you'd noticed—the small ways he always seemed to look out for you, the way he'd remember the tiniest details about your life, and how his eyes would light up every time you entered a room. "i just... i always thought it was wishful thinking...like the time you carried extra snacks just because you knew i'd forget to eat, or when you'd always find an excuse to walk me home, even when you lived in the opposite direction. or how you’d get so quiet and protective whenever you thought someone was being unfair to me."
seungcheol's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and endearment, a fond smile spreading across his lips. "so you noticed all that?" he asks, his voice warm with a hint of embarrassment.
"i did," you say, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "but it just seemed too good to be true."
he pulls you a little closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mixture of adoration and relief. "it wasn’t too good to be true," he whispers, and then, with the most tender of touches, he leans in.
when his lips meet yours, it's everything and more. it's gentle, sweet, and filled with all the love that has been building between you two, unspoken but always there, waiting for the right moment.
when you finally pull away, you're both breathless, cheeks flushed. seungcheol's smile is still there, brighter than ever.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol seventeen#choi seungcheol seventeen#seventeen seungcheol#seventeen choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol angst#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol imagine#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol angst#choi seungcheol fanfic#choi seungcheol imagine#scoups#scoups seventeen#seventeen scoups#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups angst#scoups imagine
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Wake up call
Agathario x reader
Another scene I'm deeply in love with is Agatha and Rio's fight happening in the first episode. So, here it is what would happen with r joining it.
pt. 2
Rio leaned closer to Agatha with a lopsided grin, “I’ve missed you,” she purred, tracing her former lover’s jawline with the curved blade in her hand.
Agatha’s chest rose and fell, an expression of pure hatred flashed upon her blue eyes, mingled with a hint of something else, mabe fear. “I hate you.”
Rio lolled her head back and laughed bitterly, “course, you do.”
The day you and Agatha vowed to never see her face anymore, her heart shattered until nothing was left of it. But she was Lady Death, meaning that no matter what you wanted, someday your paths would cross again and that’s what kept her going.
You had just parked in the driveway, when an explosion coming from inside the house alerted you. On your way back from the grocery store, your memories came back one by one, and you almost hit a pedestrian or two at the realization that you and Agatha had been trapped under a spell for about three years. And now that you were ‘awake’, you were pretty sure she was too. You quickly got out of the car and stepped inside, silently praying that Agatha was okay.
Last person you thought you’d see was Rio.
“Drop the dagger now,” your voice came out sharp and dangerous.
Both witches snapped their heads towards you. Your eyes locked with Agatha’s first. She breathed a sigh of relief at your sight, her blue orbs filled with all sorts of thoughts.
“Hello, mi nena,” Rio quipped, tone softening at the sight of you. “Glad you’re awake too. Agatha and I were just.. catching up, right?”
You took a step closer, keeping your eyes on Rio. “I see– rude of you to start without me,” there was a hint of sarcasm in your voice, that both witches grasped. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.”
“Uhm, I don’t know.” Instead of listening to you, Rio pushed the blade deeper against Agatha. The witch struggled to keep the blade at distance, trembling while doing so.
Your hands turned into fists, a gust of wind rose up around you. Objects started levitating, the chandelier in the lounge room swayed and Agatha’s lips curled upwards, happy to realize your powers were still part of you.
The vibrancy of your magic brought back all sorts of memories of the time you three spent together. “Looks like our sweet girl over there is in control of her powers. How does it feel, Agatha?” Rio asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you resent her like you resent me?”
The purple witch was quick to shake her head, scoffing to herself at the same time.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
When she looked at you, she saw one of the most incredible witches she ever had the pleasure to meet.
“You’re nothing like her.”
Rio let out a whiny sound, “why does she get special treatment and I don’t, huh?”
In the meantime, your irises turned the same color of your magic, a bright hue of silver and enveloped your entire body as well.
“She did everything she could, while you–” she winced when the tip of the dagger pressed further against her skin. “What, huh? What are you blaming me for? I’m the natural order of all the things baby, and you know it. You always knew it!”
When she pushed the blade further closer to her skin, Agatha’s grip on Rio’s wrists loosened and the dagger scraped her. While Rio grinned at the sight of Agatha’s blood flowing so deliciously from her collarbone to her chestline, you levitated from the floor and your palms opened wide, exploding with your magic.
“You’re nothing!”
Rio let out a strangled yelp, as her body was thrown on the other side of the corridor. Agatha let out a sigh of relief, mouthing a fragile thank you in your direction as you rushed towards her. You didn’t say anything at first and simply hugged her, your heart thumping in your chest at incredible speed.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, but you knew better. While that small cut wasn’t anything serious, you knew the pain in her heart was greater. You pressed your lips together, giving her a skeptical look. With a flick of your finger, you healed the wound on her skin, and for some reason, it made Agatha feel even worse, but she didn’t say anything to you.
Rio pulled herself up, stretching both arms and legs, “Ahw, did she make it better?”
Agatha growled, fingers wiggling as if she could actually summon magic.
You immediately stood in front of her, “don’t come any closer,” you warned her.
The Green Witch hummed and her brows knitted in a frown, “where did I see this scene before?”
You swallowed thickly at the painful memories she was able to bring back with such ease. You had so many questions going on inside your head, the most important would probably be, why? Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the pain?
“Cut the crap, Rio,” Agatha snapped, worrying about your sudden discomfort, “what do you want?”
She fake pouted at her angry tone, “you used to be much nicer to me,” with the tip of the blade, she moved a strand of hair from her face. And when you scoffed, a dark shadow passed through her eyes, “I’m just missing the old days. I want you back– in a way or another, meaning that if I have to kill you both, I will,” she added the last part with a strange look in her eyes. Almost hysterical. You only had a couple of seconds to react. Rio’s dagger flew in your direction, missing you and Agatha by a nose, as you shoved her to the side, shielding her with your body.
Agatha grunted at the sound of Rio’s giggles, “I’m gonna kill her.”
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “it’s not possible, unfortunately.”
Propping yourself up, you helped Agatha do the same.
While doing so, you spotted the dagger behind you. You pointed at it to Agatha with a nod of your head. She was closer to the weapon so she lunged forward to grab it. Rio ignored her and focused on you. She gave you little time to anticipate her move and with a yelp she sprung forward, fuelled by her magic. Before you knew it, her fingers tightened around your neck and squeezed.
Her head lolled to the side, and watched you with a mixture of nostalgia and admiration, “naughty, naughty–”
“Let her go!” Before Agatha could even make an attempt to stab Lady Death on the shoulder, Rio sent her flying in the lounge room, her back hitting a cabinet that after the impact, crashed on top of her.
Your eyes snapped open, as you squirmed but to no avail, “Agatha!”
“Do you remember pain, my love?”
“I never stopped feeling it since the day you betrayed us.”
You still resented her for the things she did. And you probably would for the rest of your life. Her face dimmed and her lips pursed into a grimace; the grip around your neck loosened, but she didn’t let go. Was that disappointment settling in her chest?
“You’re so clueless about the things I did for you.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, but despite them a choked chuckle slipped from your lips. She did nothing for you, nor for Agatha and even less for Nicky. She only took, betrayed your trust and hurt you in the most inexplicable way.
“All you did was make things worse.”
Rio snarled at your accusation,“you knew that messing with the Fates wasn’t without consequences!”
Your answer came out in a faint, yet determined whisper, “you were the one to send the Furies my way.”
In the meantime, Agatha straightened herself out, wincing at the pain in her arms, as shreds of glass cut through her skin. She scanned the surroundings in search of something, anything that could be used against Rio. While her eyes landed on a wooden tray, Rio blasted you against the wall behind you with full demoniac force, her voice distorted as well, sounding deeper and animalistic, “I had no other choice!”
Agatha mentally screamed at the chunks of plaster coming down at you.
You whimpered, feeling Rio’s body towering over yours, “sorry, did it tickle too much?”
Despite the dizziness, you found the sassiness to roll your shoulders, “No.” With the corner of your eye, you spotted Agatha coming your way, holding something in her hands. Realizing what it was made you almost chuckle. “But I bet this will.”
Before Rio could ask you what you meant, the purple witch hit the back of her head with an angry growl and a deadly stare in the eye.
“Dark Mother, I’m so sick of her,” she muttered, glancing back at you.
You chuckled briefly, before erupting into a fit of coughs. Your throat felt on fire because of Rio. You were pretty sure it was bruising already for how much she squeezed. Agatha kneeled in front of you, her fingers hovering over your neck, but barely touching it, for fear of causing you extra pain, “I’m sorry about–”
“Don’t. The ‘s’ word isn’t allowed,” you chided her softly. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She hated feeling powerless, even more now considering you could really use some of her purple as backup.
Noticing the veil of sadness in her eyes, you tried to cheer her up, giving her a playful nudge, “what you did was rather hot by the way.”
She snorted out a laugh, “are you turned on, love?”
A playful smirk tugged at your lips, “maybe.”
She pulled you closer, tugging at the fabric of your blouse. Her forehead adhered against yours and you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to inhale her sweet. Her hand ran from your collarbone up to your chin, her thumb gently grazed your bottom lip, pushing it down and making you smile. When you reopened your eyes, you took her hand in yours, and intertwined your fingers together in the attempt to brush aside all the worries you spotted in her eyes.
Rio let out a frustrated growl, “Good job, Agatha. I’m impressed. A little higher and that would have really hurt.”
On instinct, you tried to move Agatha behind you, but she resisted, making you frown.
“Ugh!” Rio swept her tongue over her lips, “the way she would throw herself in Hell for you really warms my heart.”
You said nothing because it was true. You would do the craziest things for her, just like you did for Nicky.
Agatha smacked her lips, almost laughing in her face. “Please, you don’t have a heart.”
Rio locked eyes with her, and for a moment you spotted a veil of hurt in her brown orbs. “Yes, I do,” she argued, before dropping her voice into a softer murmur, “it’s black and it beats for both of you.”
Agatha said nothing, while you couldn’t bring yourself to be quiet after that colossal lie, “you’re pathetic.”
Her gaze narrowed towards you; a flash of fury dimmed her features. “Madness turned you into a real brat. Perhaps you fancy another ride?”
You swallowed thickly and turned stiff. Those words stung painfully, there was no point in hiding it. You hated how easily she could bring back the memories of your trauma, making you feel as if you were reviving it all over again.
A single tear slipped from your eye, but you were quick to wipe it. Agatha’s hand found yours and squeezed; she felt your magic tickling her skin, it was mirroring your emotions and she knew it would burst soon.
“You’re a monster,” Agatha’s voice came out in hiss.
Then it happened. You let go of Agatha’s hand and tackled Rio on the floor. Her back hit the ground with force, and despite that, she laughed. You pinned her wrists above her head, digging your fingernails into her skin, wishing to hurt, to tear the skin apart, and make her feel even an ounce of the pain you endured because of her.
Agatha’s eyes widened both in shock and surprise at your outburst.
“My, my, aren’t you sexy when you’re mad?”
You smacked her across the face. Hard.
“Woah, okay girl–”, she conceded, calling a truce, “tell me what you want.”
“I want you to get the fuck out of my life.”
Rio lifted her chin up, a dark chuckle escaped her lips, “All roads lead to me, mi nena. Whether you like it or not, you’ll die. Why can’t we speed up the process?”
“You’re not allowed to kill us,” your voice dropped in an icy growl.
“I second that,” Agatha quipped.
Rio scoffed amusedly, “are you sure about that?” Before you could respond with another sassy remark, she headbutted you straight on the nose. You fell to the side, letting go of Rio’s wrists and allowing her to flee from your grasp. You groaned and cursed under your breath, when she kicked your side with the boot of her shoe. Agatha took you in her arms, as quickly as she could, then started crawling backwards with you firmly pressed against her chest, “you okay?”
“Fine,” you croaked out, in annoyance.
By the look on your bloody face, she realized you’d very well use a break.
But Rio seemed to have other ideas, the knife was back in her hand as she approached you.
“Wait, just wait a damn second–” Agatha held out a hand towards the Green Witch, while the other remained wrapped around your underarms.
Rio hummed and traced the tip of the blade with her fingertips.
“This isn’t what you want. Plus, I don’t have any powers so it’s not exactly a fair fight, is it?” She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping her words would buy you some time to recover. “Don’t you want us at our best?”
Rio grinned, with a devilish light in her eyes, “Horizontal, in a grave?”
“Not exactly,” she muttered, “I mean, in full control of our powers. Just let me get my purple back, let her recover and if you really want to– come back and find us.”
Your breath hitched, it was hard to breathe properly with the blood clogging your nostrils. You summoned your magic, and despite being a tad weaker, you knew it could heal you if given proper time.
“Why don’t you take mine?” Rio’s suggestion made your stomach lurch.
“That’s cute,” Agatha mused. “But you know that would kill me.”
“Then what about hers?”
It didn’t seem like a terrible idea to you. But Agatha’s answer was categorical, “No.”
You looked up at her, noticing the hesitation in her features. Maybe fear too. Truth was, she didn’t trust herself to do such a thing, not to you. You knew she found immense pleasure in sucking away powers from witches, she knew it was wrong, and for years the only reason why she did that was to keep Nicky alive. That’s the reason why you helped her do it. As a mother you could back up from your responsibilities and as a witch, you learned the hard way that in order to survive you had to do all sorts of things.
There was something about your magic that scared Agatha. You were the only necromancer witch she ever crossed paths with, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull away from you, once she got a taste of your forbidden magic.
Rio pursed her lips in a grimace, “you’re such a coward.”
“She isn’t,” you argued back.
When Rio finally put the dagger down, both you and Agatha frowned in confusion. “Show me, then. Blast her. Help her restore her purple.”
“We aren’t doing this, Rio,” Agatha insisted rather adamantly.
“I’d think about it before making a decision, my love,” Rio leaned closer, her voice soft and eerily calm. “You see, I'm not the only one that wishes you dead. I’d expect guests at sundown.”
You frowned at her words, “who do you mean?”
Rio’s eyes flashed with excitement. “The worst of them. The Salem Seven.”
For a moment both you and Agatha fell quiet. You felt Agatha turn still behind you, and your heart ached for her. You turned to face her, as the grip around your middle loosened.
“Hey, I’m here, Agatha,” your voice came out both firm and tender. “It’s going to be alright”
Rio laughed softly at that. She shoved your shoulder in a playful way, “I have a feeling we will meet again, very soon.”
She paused where once it stood the front door, “Hasta luego,” she waved her fingers before stepping out of the house.
You considered Rio’s words, and as much as you wished to find another solution, there wasn’t really another way to restore Agatha’s powers, especially not in such a short time.
“Maybe–”
“Don’t,” she cut you off, sharply.
You raised your hands defensively, “Fine, sorry. But I think we should at least think about it.”
When she didn’t respond, you decided to give her a moment. Pushing yourself up, your eyes darted to the mess around you. There were pieces of furniture pretty much everywhere, shreds of glass, plates and cutlery and even sections of ripped wallpaper, along with chunks of plasters, “this is not how I imagined to spend this Friday…” you hoped your little joke would put a smile on Agatha’s face, but she remained motionless.
Agatha started to regret having woken up from Wanda’s spell. Now not only was she awake, but she had no power, the Salem Seven and Rio wanted her dead, her house was falling to pieces, and on top of that, you were in potential danger because of her. The only reason why she survived the loss of Nicky was because of you. But if she lost you too…
She clenched her eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to dwell in such thoughts.
“Uhm, Agatha?” You were wrong to think nothing else could surprise you that day.
She made a hum sound, finally getting on her feet, face turned towards you.
“Why is there a gagged boy in our wardrobe?”
#agatha all along#rio vidal#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#wlw#lesbians#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#lady death
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as a sleepy girl i would love some sleepy girl inspired smut🫣 with paige
YESS PERIOD i’m a sucker for this
.ೃ࿐𐦍༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ early morning,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
once you feel the familiar sensation of paige’s hands on your stomach, you lean into the warmth. its welcoming and gentle, making your skin tingle wherever she leaves the ghost of her affection. she’s trying to pull you out of your slumber, her patience wearing thin.
it always does. you sleep late on the weekends and paige can’t stand it. she has to wait for you and never lasts very long in her attempts of letting you sleep.
even though it’s only 8 am, she doesn’t think she can wait any longer.
the air around you is cold, encouraging you to seek comfort in your girlfriend. you’re turning over onto your back, craning your neck in her direction and entangling your legs together. you’re easily able to admire her beauty from your position below her, taking note of her wavy golden hair. her aura brightens the room, a white light glowing around you and you feel it in your soul.
she’s admiring you too; your skin is glowing and you look radiant. you whine at the sun hitting your eyes and it makes her stomach flutter with the memories of last night.
you under her, legs spread and thighs glistening. she swears your pussy is speaking to her, begging for attention. so wet you’re dripping down onto the blanket under you. you were whining because she just kept looking instead of addressing your needs. she had you practically grinding into the bed. every little sound you made drove her crazy, sending her mind into a frenzy.
this morning was no different. she feels you open your legs from under the covers, stretching out the morning stiffness. if she had a dick, paige is absolutely certain she’d have morning wood.
she slots her bare knee between your legs. once it connects, you’re letting out a whimper and gripping her arm. she feels the dampness between your legs and knows you’re wet too. your girlfriend relishes in the way your heat feels against her, your slick making a mark on her knee.
“mornin’ sleeping beauty,”
your lips connect, working together in a serene unison. it lacks any rush, just the pure and sultry intimacy of your love clashing together. you’re getting drunk on the feeling, not even fully awake yet. you can hardly breathe, pulling away to gather yourself. the arousal you both feel floats in the room, suffocating both of you.
her head is buried in your neck now, peppering soft kisses as she reaches her hand into your underwear. she immediately finds your throbbing nub, lightly pinching and massaging it. you choke on a moan at her ministrations, letting your eyes flutter open before you’re quickly shutting them again.
paige gathers your slick and admires the way she can lubricate her hand with it, gliding it over your own skin. she’s moaning into your skin as she gently pushes her finger into you. you’re squeezing her so nice and she’s only half-way in, your core yearning for her.
she goes slow, knowing you’re still sleepy and tired from last night’s activities. your girlfriend doesn’t mind though, appreciating the lovingness of it all. she feels like one harsh moment might shatter you into a million pieces.
“s’pretty baby, can’t get enough.” she glides a second finger in and out of you, the silence of the morning being interrupted by the sounds of your wetness. you’re nodding at her words, already too blissed out.
“can i taste you baby? you want me to?” you’re moaning out a ‘please’ and she’s up on her knees, kissing all of your skin. she’s making her way down to breakfast, sucking little hickeys on your hip and stomach.
now she’s on her own stomach, hand up your shirt and your legs on her shoulders, wrapping slightly around her head. her free hand pushes your panties to the side and spreads you open, snaking around your thigh with a ghost-like touch. she’s so soft, fingers gliding over and toying gently with your nipples while she wraps her lips around your clit. your back arches off the bed with a whispered praise that she doesn’t hear. you taste so good her ears ring and her vision blurs, only able to focus on the feeling of you in her mouth. your arousal is sticky on her chin but she doesn’t notice that either, only focused on the task at hand.
she wants to make sure you’re fully satisfied so she pulls away from your clit and prods her tongue gently against your entrance. you’re practically a waterfall at this point, your wetness gushing onto her tongue. she appreciates it all, pride swelling her heart and ego when she realizes she’s the reason.
your hand travels down to your clit and draws feather light circles. she thinks it might be the hottest thing ever, only encouraging her to push her tongue deeper against your walls. she’s searching for the spongey texture of your g-spot and she knows she’s found it when you creen off the bed. you’re breathing deep in your sleepy haze, skin glowing from the sticky sweat in the sunlight of the morning.
she hears your breathless whimper about how close you are and it motivates her to massage her tongue against you just the way you like, wanting to hear your moans as you finish. you’re teetering on the edge of blissful release, one last pinch to your nipple, one last finger circling on your clit, one last tongue curl and you’re falling into the feeling. your hips twitch against paige’s face as she cleans away your slick.
once she sits back up you notice it all over her mouth and chin, her face glistening in the light. she’s smiling big and rubbing your thighs, her day off to a great start. she leans up to kiss you after realizing she’s only done it once today, but you’re turning away and groaning.
“gross. go wash your face.”
“why would i wash it off. that’s like throwing out leftovers.”
“ew paige!” you’re lightly slapping her wrist. you both have a slight groggy morning voice and after being satisfied so well, you can already feel yourself drifting back to sleep.
“‘m going back to sleep,” voice muffled by the pillow, paige hardly understands you. but after all her work, after knowing she’s satisfied you, she also welcomes the idea of sleep.
she wipes her face off and quickly joins you again, pulling you on top of her. after a few minutes, your soft breath on her neck coaxes her into a light sleep. your limbs are tangled, wrapped around each other for extra warmth and comfort. your skin is soft against hers and she wishes she could absorb you into her own skin, never wanting to be away from you.
paige realizes she’s never been happier than she is whenever she’s with you.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺₊⊹
period 😘😘😘😘😜
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Cum Sluts vs Zombies - Alastor x f!reader
Well, @6esiree, I wrote you a goddamn novelette. At a whopping 10.3k words, I present you with pure, unadulterated Alastor smut.
Other tags: @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard @babyfoxflower
Warnings: None, really. Oral (f receiving), scenting, p in v intercourse, rut smut.
At four in the morning, it would be obscene even by your own standards to keep playing video games. You turn off the television in your bedroom and take off your headset, feeling the little bit of perspiration in your hair from the foam. You shake it out and stand up, nudge a few energy drink cans out of the way. Your joints creak. Your eyes burn just a little bit. But goddamn if Cum Sluts vs Zombies wasn’t a helluva time.
You shake yourself off, get a glass of water, get ready for bed. You had just gotten done brushing your teeth when you heard it.
The sound of absolute chaos—glass breaking, furniture hitting the walls, thumps, thuds, more shattering glass—and then silence again. The hotel went back to its usual late night quiet.
You stand there for a moment, still holding your toothbrush, just staring at the wall you shared with your neighbour.
The Radio Demon.
Never, in all your months of living side-by-side, have you detected a single peep out of him. Not even once, let alone the (albeit quick) cacophony you had just heard.
“Huh.”
You proceed with your nighttime routine, all the little serums and creams that keep your skin looking bright and soft all the time, and then another sound.
It was a deep, resonating moan; you drop a jar of cream onto the vanity. Something weird, fucked up, and potentially dangerous was going on, but that moan, that almost pained sound…
Goddamn it.
With a sigh, you make sure you look decent-ish and walk the short distance to Alastor’s door.
Your knuckles rap upon the wood. Twice. Silence. “Alastor?”
No response. You lean closer and knock again. “Alastor? Are you all right?”
Again, no answer. You frown, but It's probably nothing. It's probably just one of the weird voodoo things that he does. You tell yourself it's probably just that and turn to head back to your room.
But that moan, it was just so…
You sigh and knock one more time. “Alastor I’m going to feel really guilty if I leave and you turn out to be dead.”
You hear a soft click. That’s it. That’s the only acknowledgment you get. No answer. No verbal response. But the knob does turn.
You take that as a sign that you’re allowed to go inside.
You walk into the bedroom slowly, looking more to the floor than anything else, knowing there’s shattered glass everywhere. It litters the floor, glistening like little diamonds in the light coming in from the hallway—but the door suddenly slams shut.
You jump about a mile, and then a hand is around your waist. One very familiar hand. It slips down to your ass and he lowers his face against the back of your neck. You can feel his lips brush against your skin.
“So you decided to see if I was still in one piece, hmm?” His voice is a low, deep rumble against your skin. The sensation gives you chills.
“I sort of had to,” you say, utterly still.
“Oh, you had to?” His tone is mocking and the hand on your ass gives a squeeze. “Couldn’t bring yourself to just go back to your little room and keep gaming until the morning hours?”
“It’s past four, even I won’t game later than that. No, I put away my controller for the night, got ready for bed, and then I heard you break everything in your room. But that’s beside the point. Why is your hand on my ass, pal?” You ask.
“Hm, is that so?” He sounds skeptical. “I was expecting you to stay up all night. And why am I touching you?” He pauses, his hand squeezing again. “I want to, isn’t that reason enough? You’ve spent too much time running away from me lately. I don’t like it. Come here.”
You dance away from him, carefully avoiding debris all around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ah, there you go, avoiding me again.” He doesn’t try to come to you, though, he remains standing beside the door, watching you very closely.
You notice something weird. You notice several things that are weird. He looks…out of breath. Sweat glimmers against his skin, his normally coiffed hair is mussed, his eyes are heavy-lidded and his breaths sound raspy.
“I’m going to ask you something very straightforwardly,” you say.
He cocks his eyebrow and leans against the door. “Go on, then.” His tone is casual, but his body language is…peculiar.
His jaw cracks, a tension he never shows; you’ve never seen a smaller smile on his face.
You gesture to him, to the shattered glass and broken furniture strewn all across the dimly-lit room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He actually falters a little at your tone, his eyes go wide, then narrow at the accusation. “Why is something wrong?”
His voice is still calm, too calm for…whatever this was.
“Okay then,” you say, clapping your palms together. “You’re alive. You’re weirder than usual and you’ve broken all the things, but I’ve satisfied the need to know you are, in fact, as alive as you were since the last time I saw you. Goodnight.”
“Don’t.” His voice is short, sharp, and has a clipped edge to it that you’ve never heard from him before. (Not that you ever much listened.) “Don’t you dare leave.”
You take a deep breath and shift your weight to your other leg. “Do you need me for some reason? What is it?”
Alastor is silent a long moment, his eyes boring into you. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, hoarse. “Lock the door.”
“That is the opposite of what I’d like to do,” you quip.
“Damn it, just do it, all right?” His voice is almost a shout. The tension is back, his clawed hands are clenched into fists, his breathing is ragged.
Oh, this just wasn’t right at all. You were not enjoying yourself the tiniest bit, not as radio static became louder and louder in the room…
You find your resolve anyway. “Alastor, you’re the one leaning against the door. If you want it locked, you lock it.”
There’s another long moment of silence.
You watch him straighten up, his fist clenched around the knob behind him. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You’re sure you want to test my patience right now, little girl?”
His voice is soft, low, and dark. The radio pops fall silent. Everything…everything becomes silent.
“Oh.” You take a deep breath, heart picking up the pace. “You just want me to get close to you again.”
“Ah, there you go. So clever, my dear.” He takes a step forward, the movement slow and careful, strangely almost as though he’s afraid he’ll stumble if he moves too suddenly. He stops a few feet from you, just looks down at you for what feels like an eternity. Then his eyes narrow again.
“Take that jacket off.” His voice is still quiet, still hoarse, but there’s an underlying current of need that pulls the air from your lungs.
You stand there in silence for a time before shaking your head. “Nope!”
“Oh, so you’re going to be stubborn, then?” He crosses his arms, looking down at you with one eyebrow cocked, then he growls. “Either take it off or I’ll take it off for you. Don’t push me in this state, darling, I’m already at my limits.”
“At the limits of what, Alastor? What’s happening to you? Why did you break everything? Why are you all messed up? And why is it so fucking hot in here?” You throw your hands up with abandon. “Answer me.”
There’s another long stretch of silence.
His breathing is ragged and the sound is loud in the quiet room. His knuckles are strained from how hard his hands are clenched into fists now.
He closes his eyes, his head tilting back, and the sound he makes is soft, almost too quiet.
A soft groan, just low enough that you almost miss it.
…That little groan leaves you breathless, catches you in the chest, and you just look at him.
His eyes snap open, but this time they’re…different. His pupils are blown wide, and there is a desperate, hungry look to them that you’ve…definitely never seen before.
He takes a step forward, lunges at you, his hands grabbing your wrists and grasping them to his chest.
“Goddamn it, please…” His voice is soft, hoarse, and full of need.
You’re trembling, but not altogether from a place of the fear you’re meant to be feeling. “Please what?”
His eyes are still wild, desperate, and his breaths are coming in ragged gasps now. “Please, just let me touch you, darling.”
He moves closer, his hand tightening around your wrists.
The room is quiet, save for the sound of his breathing. After a few moments, you swallow and nod.
You nod, and he groans.
His hands leave your wrists, then move down your body to your hips. He pulls you against him, his hips grinding hard, insistently against you, his nose buried in the curve of your neck, and he breathes in deeply.
“Damn, you smell amazing…” He murmurs against your skin. His hands move lower, gripping your ass again, pulling you even closer.
His teeth suddenly close on the side of your throat. You’re not sure if the sound you make is due to pleasure or pain, or maybe a little bit of both, but it seems to drive him wild.
“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin. He’d never talked to you like that before. Hell, it’s possible he’s never spoken to anyone like this before. You’d never seen him lose control this way. Or…really, do anything at all like this. Or anything that suggested that he could.
His hands move to the buttons on your shirt, his fingers fumbling clumsily with them.
“Oh, hey, hey!” You say, flailing your arms for some fucking reason. “Hey! Al!”
“What?” He draws back a little, his face flushed, his eyes wild. “What is it, darling?” His voice is rough, his expression is dark, and his body seems somehow more tense.
You swallow and breathe out roughly. “What’s, ah, you know. What the hell is happening?”
Alastor makes a sharp, dismissive sound. “I can’t concentrate when you smell like that, darling.” He moves closer, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, then groans again. His claws catch in the soft fabric spread over your belly.
“It’s like you’re teasing me, but I know you’re not, which just makes it worse…please, darling, just be patient with me for a little longer. And take your shirt off. Now.”
With shaking hands, you take off the jacket you’d thrown on before leaving your room, the one that Alastor had previously demanded that you remove. In the quiet of the room, you hear it fall onto broken glass, the little chips settling underneath it. Alastor’s muttering something that you can’t really focus on at the moment. He keeps moving, but his face remained pressed against your neck, breathing in heavily. He grows quite apparently frustrated with your lack of progress and pulls your shirt open, the buttons flying.
You feel him shiver just as you gasp.
He is utterly silent, but you can feel the way his body tenses at the sight of your bare skin.
He stops breathing. Just for a beat.
His hand is large, warm, and surprisingly gentle as it skims over your skin. His touch leaves a burning sensation in its wake. Being at his mercy like this…
His breathing is still ragged, but now yours matches his. His hands are shaking slightly; he doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to hold himself back anymore. He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lets it fall to the floor. His hands skim up your sides, fingers trailing along your ribs slowly, his touch leaving burning lines across your skin.
What a time to remember you had not put on a bra. The room was still stiflingly hot, and Alastor’s skin felt even hotter.
He’s muttering again.
“What?” you ask.
“I said Goddamn, you’re beautiful.” His fingers trail over the curve of your hip, then lower to the little patch of skin just above the waistband of your pants.
He murmurs something that might be a curse, his body tense against yours.
“Do you have any idea how hard I have to focus to keep under control when I’m around you?” His voice is rough, full of need. You still can’t see his face. “You smell so damn good, your voice is like silk, you’re so damn beautiful, do you have any idea how tempting you are?”
All of this is new and overwhelming information. “Like, now, or in general?”
“Now specifically. Right now. I’m at my goddamn limits trying to control myself.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes a dark crimson. He looks at your exposed chest and lets out a ragged moan. “God, I need you, darling.”
You tilt your head. “So wait, this is you holding yourself back?”
“I suppose.” He leans his forehead against your shoulder again, his hands still trailing over your bare skin, one finger tracing over the shape of your nipple. “Right now you’re practically dripping with desire. I can smell it, and it’s torture for me to keep myself from just pushing you against the wall and taking you right now. You have no goddamn idea how hard I’m having to try not to do that, darling.”
“I would prefer something horizontal,” you say, and not entirely to lighten the steadily darkening mood of the conversation.
He groans, that goddamn sound, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to hurt, his body tense and shaking against yours.
“Damn you, saying things like that. You’re killing me, you know that, don’t you?”
He draws back, and you finally get a good look at him.
He looks even more wrecked up close.
His hair is mussed, his expression fierce and hungry, his eyes dark and wild. His skin is flushed, and his breathing is ragged.
“Come here,” he murmurs, one hand gripping your wrist and pulling you towards the bed.
You follow along, still trying to avoid the debris he was just pushing straight through. Nothing was stopping this guy, he was a force. He sits down on the edge of the bed—one that you swear was not there when you first came into the room—pulling you closer until you’re standing directly in front of him.
His hands move to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them, looking up at you.
“I need you, right now.”
“Hey!” You still his hands and squeeze them hard enough to make him cock a brow at you. “I will absolutely not be entirely naked before you’ve so much as taken off your coat!”
His expression is stunned for all of an instant; he hadn’t expected you to be bold enough to do anything like this.
Then it changes to a smirk.
“Are you ordering me, darling?”
“No!” You shake your head. “No, but I am making a strong pronouncement.”
He chuckles, a low, dark sound in the near-silent bedroom.
“Strong pronouncement, is it?”
He slowly stands, letting go of your wrists, then shrugs out of his coat. He carefully folds it and sets it aside, looking all too amused.
You tilt your head, looking up at him. “Everything in here is broken and you fold your coat? Really? You’re so weird.”
“Oh, I’m weird,” he laughs. “And just how, exactly, am I ‘weird?’”
When you look up at him, you realise just how much he towers over you. At full height, you only reach his shoulders.
He lifts a hand, skims his fingertips over your cheek, down your jawline, then under your chin and lifts your face up to his.
His eyes are dark, full of want. “Is it because I think you’re beautiful?”
You shake your head. “Nope, that’s completely normal.”
He laughs again, his hand still beneath your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Is it the fact that I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life? That’s ‘weird,’ is it, darling?”
Unlike him, your fingers don’t fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He has every opportunity to try and stop you, but he doesn’t. If anything, he maybe shifted to make it easier for you—but you couldn’t tell. Your fingers never faltered, but it didn’t stop all the screaming going on in your skull.
He’s silent as he stands there and allows you to undress him. His eyes are dark, half-lidded, but he makes no move to stop you.
He’s tense, though, you’d have to be blind not to notice it. His hands are fisted in front of him, and he’s not as relaxed as he wants you to believe.
You pop the last button and his red shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest. The scars stand out right away, but you just push the shirt off his shoulders and then something strikes you.
You’re both half-naked with nary a kiss taking place.
Now you’re dead set on remedying this absurdity, yanking him down to your level.
A shocked gasp escapes his lips and he leans into you, his large hands gripping your hips, his mouth crushing against yours. It’s rough, and eager, and hungry, and God it’s passionate.
His tongue slides against your lower lip, and he actually whines in the back of his throat in frustration when you don’t immediately let him inside your mouth.
He kisses you again, and this time you do let him inside. His tongue presses against yours, exploring your mouth as if he was desperate (well, it’s now quite clear how desperate he really is) and trying to consume you completely.
His hands grip you harder and he pulls you against him until your body is pressed flush against his. He growls against your lips, his breath ragged, his grip on you almost painful.
He pulls back from the kiss only long enough to mutter: “Bed. Now.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You already stood at the edge of it, so you pushed him down onto it and crawled on top of him, kissing him again.
He groans, leaning his head back and allowing you to take control just this once, although his fingers dig into your hips like he wants to force you to be even closer.
His mouth slides to your jaw, kissing and biting at the skin there, his breath ragged and scalding against your skin.
“Goddamn, you’re perfect, darling.”
His hands release their grip on your hips, his fingers trailing feather-light over your exposed skin, then down so they’re gripping your thighs.
His mouth moves to your ear, his teeth closing on the lobe for a brief second before he murmurs, almost inaudibly “I want you, darling. I want to feel you. I want to touch you, to taste you, to devour you.”
He rolls you over so you’re lying on your back beneath him, his large body pinning you against the mattress, between him and the bed.
He looks down at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his ragged breaths coming faster and faster.
“I need you,” he repeats, leaning down to kiss your throat. “God, I need you so much, darling. Just the smell of you is driving me insane, even right now. I want you so goddamn badly.”
Your head is spinning. Sounds cliche, sure, but that’s the experience that you’re dealing with at the moment. His scent is affecting you heavily now that he’s on top of you and you can almost feel it all over you. You look up at him and something is slightly off. You look a little further up and gasp.
“Alastor, your antlers!”
He lifts his head and blinks, almost as if you had spoken a different tongue.
“What about them, darling?”
“They grew! They’re not little lobster claws anymore!”
He looks a little surprised, and confused, and then he reaches up, feeling one of the newly formed antlers with his fingers, as if disbelieving.
“Ah hell,” he mutters, then looks down at you again. “They only grow when I’m at my most—”
He stops himself with a sharp inhale. “Damn it, I knew I was close, I just didn’t realise how close.”
“What?” you ask. “What is the center of this goddamn mystery, Alastor? This is beginning to feel like a mystery box, like if David Lynch tried his hand at an erotic radio show set in 1930.”
He laughs, still sounding ragged, and a little strained. “It’s not a mystery, darling, although I do enjoy how curious and eager you are about this. They grow when I’m near my rut.”
“Let’s just say I understand fully what that is. You mean it whatever the hell this is hasn’t even fully hit yet?”
“No, not yet, but it’s damn close.” He looks down at you, and you can see the heat in his eyes, the look that’s almost pleading with you to help him find some sort of relief from this. “I’m going to get very desperate, very soon.”
You nod a few times. “Okay. I’ll get you through it.”
“It will be a hell of a ride, darling,” He looks down at you, his eyes dark. “Are you sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Not even a little bit,” you say with a smile, shaking your head.
He laughs again, but this time it’s a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “That’s all right, darling. I’ll do all the hard work, you just have to let loose and let me take care of you.”
You hold up a finger. “That’s doable—if.”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “If? What exactly are your conditions, darling?”
You look him dead in the eye. “I want to touch one of your fluffy, fluffy ears.”
A laugh bursts out of him, and he leans his head back. “That’s it? You’re willing to put up with my ruts for one touch of my ear?”
You wink at him. “They just look so fun to touch and I’ve always wanted to.”
He laughs again, then shakes his head, a smile on his face. “All right, darling, you can touch them as much as you like. Just remember that when you’re screaming my name later.”
“Are they sensitive? Will it hurt you?”
“They’re sensitive, yes, but I trust that you won’t hurt me.” He gives you a smirk. “Or is that what you want? You want to make me beg?”
You gently trace your fingertip from the base of his ear to the tippy-top. “This can make you beg?”
He shudders, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his hips grinding against yours. “God, yes.” His voice is raw, and ragged, and needy, and you’ve barely touched him.
“What about your antlers?”
“You want to touch those, too?” he asks, still shuddering.
You touch the base of his ear again. “Do I have your consent?”
“Yes, darling, you do, but—” He’s cut off by a moan as your fingers trace down the base of his ear, making his eyes flutter shut again.
“But?”
His eyes are half-lidded again, dark with need. “They’re sensitive in a very animalistic kind of way, darling, that’s the best description I can give.”
“Okay, now I have to,” you say, and very, very gently trace your fingertip along the new points that had grown.
Another shiver runs through his body, and he groans. Then, he looks down at you, and his eyes are blown wide. He looks absolutely feral.
“Darling, I love the way you touch me,” he murmurs. “But if you keep it up, I won’t have a damn bit of self-control when my rut fully hits.”
You chuckle softly. “Decisions, decisions.”
He growls, low and needy, and you realise that he’s just barely holding it in.
“Darling,” his voice is strained, and he takes deep, ragged breaths, “just remember, when we begin I will not hold back.”
He kisses you again, and his body is tense, his hands gripping your hips so hard it almost hurts.
“I’ll take good care of you, darling,” he murmurs between kisses. “But I’m going to be rough. I want to hear you moan my name, I want to hear you cry, I want to hear you beg. Do you understand?”
“Promise?” you ask, breath coming a bit more quickly.
He groans again, his hips grinding against yours. “God, you’re so goddamn perfect. You have no idea what it does to me when you speak to me like that. And yes, darling, I swear it, I’ll take good care of you.”
He kisses you again, and his hands move to your waist again, sliding down your stomach and lower than that, one hand pushing your legs apart.
Damn it, your pants were still on. “Hang on, Al, help me just…”
He pauses for a moment, then grabs the waistband of your pants and yanks them down past your hips, pulling them off your legs and throwing them somewhere into the room.
“That seems about right,” you say, then trace your finger along his ear again.
His eyes flutter shut, his breath still ragged. “You’re going to drive me insane, darling,” He murmurs, his hand sliding further up your thigh.
You wink at him as his fingers move higher and higher.
He chuckles dryly, his fingers skimming over your skin.
“So bold, darling." He kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. “So willing. Have you ever been touched like this before, darling?”
“Well…” Your breath hitches. “Not since I arrived in hell, for sure. It’s hard for me to remember before.”
“Hard to remember?” He laughs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, his fingers sliding even further up your thigh. “Don’t worry, darling,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you remember.”
He kisses you again, hard and eager and needy, pushing your legs apart. He kisses your jaw, then your neck, then lower, until he’s between your legs.
He kisses your stomach, kisses your hipbone, and then looks up at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his voice soft and eager. “Are you ready, darling?”
“F-fuck yes,” you whisper.
He laughs, low and dark, his thumbs stroking your inner thighs. “Then I’m going to make you scream.”
He kisses your inner thighs, and God, it feels so good, but you can feel his antlers brushing against your skin every time he moves. It’s a completely different sensation of having something hard and sharp-tipped rubbing against you, and it’s incredible.
He kisses every inch of skin he can, but he takes his time, teasing you. His fingers grip your thighs like he doesn’t want you to pull away, but his mouth never goes any further than that until finally he looks up at you again, his eyes still dark.
“I’m going to taste you now, darling. Are you ready?”
Oh, God. This was really happening. It wasn’t a dream. You think over all the little moments that led you here, his body on top of yours. You touch one of his antlers and nod, biting your lip.
He kisses your stomach again, so close, his breath ragged and hot against your skin.
“I want you to say it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Say that you want me to taste you, darling.” His hands grip your thighs again. “Say it, darling. Just a few more words and I’ll give you what you want. I don’t want you to hold anything back, so just tell me what you want.”
Your cheeks heat up and you look up at the ceiling, arms coming up to cover your eyes. All he can hear is muttering.
He laughs and you feel his warm breath against your skin. “You’re not listening, darling. I said I want to hear you.”
Ah, fuck. He was really going to make you say words, huh? Okay, fine, fine.
“Al, I want you to eat my pussy.”
He laughs. “Now, was that so hard, darling?” You feel his breath against you, teasingly close. “Now we can begin.”
He kisses your inner thigh again, his hands still gripping your legs, holding you in place. “I’ve been waiting for this a very long time, darling,” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m going to enjoy every inch of you.”
You almost snap. “You what?”
Alastor laughs. “I’ve been wanting you like this for quite a while, darling.” He kisses your thighs again, still keeping his hands where they are, holding you down, keeping you in place for him.
“Just the sight of you drives me crazy, and you’re so damn perfect, but like this? Oh, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to devour you, darling.”
You pant there for a moment as he moves, hand trailing through his hair“Well, I’ll be damned.”
He chuckles, a sound so unfamiliar in its familiarity. “Such an impatient little thing you are,” He kisses up your inner thigh, his nose nuzzling against it. “I’m taking my time.”
Your thigh tenses pleasurably, but he doesn’t allow them to close even a centimetre. “Alastor…”
“Just relax, darling, let me take care of you.” He has you bend your knees and wraps his arm around your thigh, gripping tight, squeezing just to make you squirm.
It’s his fingers that touch you first, grazing through your slick with a bit of a dark chuckle against your thigh, the cocky son of a bi—
Alastor slides two blunted fingertips inside you and there’s no resistance whatsoever. His fingers curl just right, making you cry out. You gasp and cover your mouth though.
“Darling, don’t you dare try to hold those beautiful sounds back,” he growls against your skin, and you can feel his breath, hot against you. “I want to hear every single sound you make.”
You’re trying your hardest not to squirm and failing miserably. “But I don’t want to disturb anybody!”
He laughs, still against your skin. “Darling, I don’t think anybody is here to mind.”
He does something with his fingers, making you moan despite your best attempts not to. “Besides, I don’t mind if they hear you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The way he’s crooking his fingers so fucking casually, like it’s not got you shaking in his bed…
You freeze and then tremble when his tongue, hot and wet, perfectly complements that fucking crooking gesture. It’s like he has a roadmap of your fucking body and how to make you come in minutes flat.
And he takes damn good advantage of it. He’s clearly been paying attention to what you like, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to make you writhe and gasp for him.
And it’s getting damn difficult to keep those sounds contained when he’s driving you mad like this.
“Make noise for me, darling,” he murmurs against your skin. “I promise, I don’t mind if someone hears you. Hell, I want them to hear you. I want everyone to hear how good you feel, how you moan for me.”
“Goddamn, Alastor, I can’t, I can’t—“
He laughs again, and goddamn, the vibrations against your skin makes you shiver. “Yes, you can, darling, you can do everything I want you to do.”
He pauses for a moment, then adds: “And I want you to say my name, darling, I want you to moan it.”
You groan, thighs trembling around his head. Points of his antlers constantly brush over your skin, your thighs, your belly, but never painfully. Each time it did, you could hear, feel him gasp and groan against your pussy. His lips circle your clit and he sucks gently.
You can hear his ragged breaths against you, his mouth working faster, more eager, his hands gripping tighter, but still staying in control, at least for now.
“Say my name, darling,” he murmurs between little flicks of his tongue. “Say my name and don’t hold back.”
“Oh, fuck fuck fuck, goddamn! Alastor, fuck!”
He laughs again, and it’s more of a dark purr this time.
“That’s it, darling, moan my name, that’s what I want to hear,” he growls against your skin, his teeth grazing your hipbone. “ Let everyone know whose name you moan, let them know who makes you feel this good.”
His mouth moves, kissing the inside of your thighs, his hands still keeping a tight grip on you, holding you steady for him. “Say it again, darling,” he murmurs. “Moan my name for me, and say you belong to me.”
You would say just about anything at all at the moment, but that, that stuck in your pleasure-addled brain, compounded by another come-hither movement on your g-spot. “Alastor…I belong to you.”
A low, dark sound escapes his mouth at that, and you realise that he’s struggling more than you thought. It’s clearly all he can do not to throw you down and fuck you like he knows you need him to.
“Again, darling,” he murmurs, lips fluttering against your clit. “Again. Tell me again, say that you’re mine.”
The sensations were new. You truly could not remember if you had done this in your previous life, but you were damn certain this is the best you’ve ever had. In this moment, you’ll do or say all the little nothings he wants to hear. “I’m yours, yours, I’m whatever the fuck you want!”
He groans again, and the sound vibrates against you, making you shiver.
“Again, darling. Say it again, keep saying it, I want to hear you say it. Keep saying that you belong to me."
There’s a need to his voice, an edge of desperation. He wants to hear it, needs to hear it, needs to know that you belong to him, and he will keep begging for you to prove it if he has to.
Your hips rise to meet his mouth. It’s all you can do not to grab ahold of both antlers and hang on for dear life. Both of you are lucky you still have any blood flow to your brain at all. Telling yourself that you’re compromising, you grab his hair again. “Yours, yours, all yours…”
You can hear his breath hitch, you can feel how he’s fighting to wait for the main course.
“Not good enough.” His voice is dark, desperate, hungry. “Say it again, darling, say it again, and say it correctly. I want to hear you say it. I want you to moan for me, and tell me that you’re mine."
You can feel his ragged breathing against you, and you can feel how strong his grip is on you, as if he thinks you’ll pull away.
You do your best to focus. You give it the old college try. Taking a deep breath, you grab him by the antler to make him look at you.
“Alastor, I will tell you exactly what you want to hear. Nod if you understand me so far.”
He blinks, but nods, his eyes still dark, still hungry, still watching you.
“You are wrist-deep in my pussy. Got me all over your face. You’re about to go into a rut. I belong to you. I’ll always be yours, and yours alone. Better?”
He looks stunned for a moment, and then he laughs, and the sound is a dark, low, hungry growl.
“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, his voice dark and eager. “That is far better. Just what I wanted to hear. You’re learning, darling.”
You nod, satisfied and momentarily relieved, thinking this part as all behind you now. “I’m learning!”
“Yes, you are,” He murmurs. “I might have to reward you, darling, you’re so good at listening.”
You’re just about to ask him how when he drags a deep, long gasp out of you, his lips coming around your clit again, his fingers stroking you inside—
It was an all-out attack on your senses, but he wasn’t even trying to drag it out any longer. Maybe he was getting impatient too, or maybe you’d finally sung enough of his goddamn praises to appease him for a fucking moment—
Oh, the sounds he’s making are downright vulgar. The slurp of his lips, the squelch of his fingers, probably in any other context would be horrific, but just for now they translate to a tightness in your body that grows and grows and grows—
Until it snaps.
All that screaming he wanted crashed against the walls of the hotel room, and you could hear that smug, arrogant prick give a breathy laugh, could feel it even as his fingers kept working you. Your thighs try their damndest to close, but Alastor, having none of that, keeps them wrenched open. You’re grabbing onto both antlers but he is not letting up for one goddamn second.
You can feel him grin against you. He’s so damn proud of himself. But he’s not finished with you, not yet.
“So, just so we’re clear, you’re mine, all mine?”
Your body shakes all over. “Yes yes yes yes!”
He laughs, his laughter dark and eager.
“That sounded so good, darling. I want to hear you tell me that again. Will you say it for me?”
“I-I…Al…I…” Could the man not understand that words were impossible with his lips still brushing against your poor, overstimulated clit?
He laughs becomes deeper, darker, then he places an almost-mocking kiss to your bud. “That won’t do, darling. I want you to say those words for me. I want to hear you moan them, loud and clear, say that you’re mine.”
Problem was, in your current state that was almost literally impossible. “Ffffuck, I…”
Alastor hums amusedly. “That still isn’t good enough, but it’s a damn good start. Now, say it, darling, say that you’re mine. Say that you’ll always be mine.”
It takes everything, absolutely everything in you not to break. Was that his goal? Well, probably, yes, to some extent it had to be. Why was he making you say all these meaningless things? Torture, right?
“A-Alastor, whatever you want. I’m y-yours, I-I-I…fucking Jesus hellfire, I’ll be yours forever, I promise!”
He smirks against your skin. “That’s perfect, darling, just what I wanted to hear. You’re doing so good for me. Just say one more thing for me, before we continue, and then I’ll give you your reward.”
“What?” you sob.
“Good, good girl. I’m almost tempted to tease you and keep you begging for me, just to hear your voice, your beautiful voice, say all those perfect things. Almost tempted. But don’t worry, my darling, I’m not nearly that patient, and I want to hear you moan. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you scream for me?”
Your mind despairs of the unfairness of the situation. You shiver and twitch as he still won’t let up. “I fucking am, Alastor! What more do you want from me?? Please, Alastor, please…”
He laughs, and god the sound against your skin feels amazing. Too amazing. You were still doing all you could to appease him.
He pauses, finally halting all contact with your aching flesh. He takes the hand that was between your legs and licks your juices from his fingers.
It’s a sight that makes your heart pound and a shiver run through you. His dark eyes meet yours again, and his voice is a low, dark growl. “You taste heavenly, darling.”
Your laugh comes breathily. “Why thank you.”
Another dark chuckle. The hand he used to touch you is still wet, and he licks it again, deliberately making sure that you’re watching. “Truly delectable, darling.”
“Here,” you say, pulling him down. “Show me.”
He gives an amused huff, but lets you pull him down. His mouth captures yours, and this kiss is deep, hungry, and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue.
He moans against you, a deep, dark, hungry sound, and you feel his hands moving to your hips again. He pulls you towards him, until you can feel how hard he is against you.
“Are you ready, darling?”
Your cheeks heat up again, as if this man hadn’t been mauling your pussy for the last half hour. You smile, but cover your eyes before you nod.
“Oh no no no, no hiding your eyes, darling,” He murmurs, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes.
He kisses you again, and when he finally moves, lifting you, you feel how damn strong he is, how he’s able to lift you like you weigh nothing.
“What am I to do?”
Alastor laughs, and the sound is dark and eager. “You’ll see. For now, just keep your eyes open for me. I want you to look in my eyes when I take you.”
“Okay,” you say, letting him put your head on the pillows, “I’ll stay put and keep my eyes peeled.”
He kisses you again, a slow, lingering kiss that ends with a bit of a bite, and you feel another growl against your lips.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, “a very good girl. I need you to stay just like that, darling. Just relax, and let me take care of you. Can you do that for me?”
You give him a soft, almost affectionate smirk and reach up to gently play with his ear. “I think I’m up for that, yeah.”
He growls again, and you can feel his hunger from it. “Damn you, darling, you shouldn’t sound so damn sexy when you say that, you’re only making this harder.”
Your eyes meet again. There’s a dark hunger in his eyes, a need. “You’re so damn beautiful. You are going to be so very mine. All mine. No one else will ever get to see you this way, or I’ll kill them. I want you to remember that, darling, remember that you’re mine. Never forget.”
You nod, smiling up at him, and give him a wink for good measure. “Sure, Al. I’ll remember.”
Alastor seems to accept your assurance, at least momentarily. He wrenches your legs apart again and slots himself comfortably between them.
When he nudges your legs apart again, you’re more than aware of how big he is. Even through his clothes, you can feel him, and that shiver runs through your entire body.
“That’s a good girl,” He murmurs, “I want you to say that again, darling. I want to hear you say it again. Say that you belong to me."
You smile up at him, affectionately rolling your eyes, whilst reaching between you to unbuckle his belt. Time for the natural progression of things. You can feel how taut his nerves have become and think it’s almost sweet, how he managed to put you ahead of himself for a while. That deserves sweet nothings.
“I know, big guy,” you say. “I know I belong to you.”
He laughs wickedly and there’s an edge of relief to the sound. Your words have clearly helped somehow, as if they’ve soothed him in some way.
His mouth meets yours, but this one is rougher, almost desperate. You feel his hands grip your thighs, hard enough to make you whimper again against his mouth.
“Al!” You protest when you part.
He laughs again, and this time the relief is more obvious, almost as if he’s been holding back so much that your words are allowing himself a little more freedom, a little more room to breathe.
“I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough and eager, “I know I’m being too rough, I’m sorry darling, but I really want you. I’ve been holding back for so long, holding myself back. It’s getting damn hard to keep control, harder every second."
“Well, now’s the time for pants to come off and for things to commence,” you tell him.
Alastor lets out another huff and there’s a note of disbelief in it this time.
“God damn you, you’re perfect. You’re perfect.”
His mouth is rough again when it meets yours, rough and hungrier and desperate. His hands are on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin, almost tight enough to bruise.
His tongue forces its way between your lips, and this kiss is rough, almost possessive.
Alastor’s trousers are finally kicked away and he’s between your legs again, rubbing through your slick as if to catch it—that’s a good thing, too, because it feels absolutely massive. You don’t want to make yourself seem like a (possibly) inexperienced little virgin so you don’t say anything, but you sure as hell feel it.
He leans over you, his mouth hovering over your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, “you feel perfect. So damn perfect. Say you’re mine. Tell me I’m the only one allowed to touch you, say it.”
There’s a note of hunger in his voice, a note of almost desperation. He knows that he’s lost control, that he’s barely holding himself together, but he doesn’t care.
You push his hair out of his eyes. The words come easily now, old hand. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”
He moans again, the sound sending a shiver up your spine, and pulls away just a little, looking you in the eye.
“Thank you, darling,” He murmurs, his voice rough. “Thank you for saying that.”
Immediately after he spoke those words, you could feel the thick heat of him force its way into your tight cunt. It burns somewhat in the way that it stretches you, but you also know that the height of your arousal is making it easier for the both of you. You look up at Alastor and see a look of concentration paired with relief paired with animalistic hunger.
Oh, dear.
He moans again, and you can hear just how much effort it takes for him to keep control, to not buck his hips.
You get a good grip on his hair as he bottoms out in you. Doesn’t hurt a bit. You hear the whine trapped in the back of his throat and your knees squeeze ever-slightly around his hips.
He growls, the muscles in his neck taut, every muscle and tendon visible in his neck, and his hands dig into the sheets beside you, shredding them and perhaps the top of the mattress as well.
“You’re mine,” He repeats, his voice low and dark. “You have no idea of ownership yet, but you’ll learn. Your soul may not be mine, but that changes nothing. Nothing, do you understand me? Now say it, darling, say that you belong solely to me, say I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this. Say it.” His voice is getting rougher, more desperate, with the slightest bit of threat that made you tremble with pleasure. That’s okay, you’ll unpack that later.
For some reason, you touch his face, your hand cupping his cheek. You could swear he leaned into it, just a bit. “You’re the only one. You’re it.”
Alastor’s eyes slide almost closed, as if you’re comforting him, as if your touch is what he needs.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s good, darling, that’s very good. Say it again, say that I’m the only one, say I'm the only one that gets to touch you like this, the only one that gets to make you feel like this, I'm the only one.”
Your eyes close and immediately his clawed hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes open.
Alastor slams in and out of you. “I warned you not to look away from me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you cry.
His thrusting is rough, hard, as if he’s trying to prove a point, as if he’s trying to force you to remember that he’s in control, that he’s the one that gets to decide, that he’s the one that gets to make you moan.
“That’s better, darling. I need you to look at me, I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know that you understand. Promise me you’ll make me stop if I hurt you. Can you do that, darling? Can you promise?”
His cautious words bring a smile to your face. “Promise.”
He growls again, and he looks so damn sexy doing it.
“Good, that’s good, darling. I don’t want to hurt you, I have to be careful. It’ll be difficult, because I’m so damn hungry for you, but I need you to promise me you’ll make me stop if I get too rough, I don’t want to hurt you, I want to take care of you."
“I’ll give your left antler a big tug if it starts to hurt,” you say.
“Good, good, very good. That’s a plan, my darling. Now just keep looking at me, no hiding those pretty eyes."
You stare up into his eyes, soft focus. It takes more effort than you thought that it would, especially with him pounding into you—but it wasn’t hurting. He seems to know you on a sexual level, somehow, seems to know what makes your toes curl. He pushes your thighs further apart with one of his knees so he could get deeper.
“That’s a good little darling, that’s good. Don’t look away, don’t dare look away, I want you to always look right at me. I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know you’re looking at me, I need to know that you understand. Understand?”
“Yes, yes Alastor, I understand—oh, Christ, what are you doing to me?”
He chuckles, a low rumble. “I want to make you scream, darling, that’s all I want. I need you to scream. You look so perfect right now, and I need to hear you scream for me."
You change your grip on him as he gets deeper and deeper, making you feel so full. Alastor moves faster and there’s something, some magical configuration of pace, force, and position, that starts dragging those screams right out of you.
“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s perfect, perfect. Say my name, darling, go ahead and say it. Tell me what your body is feeling, tell me what I’m making you feel."
At this point you couldn’t give a fuck who heard. “Fuck, Alastor, you fuck me so good…”
Your walls flutter around his cock before clenching and it makes him grunt, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Good, that’s good, say it again, louder this time, let me hear you," he growls, as if he’s desperate to hear the words, "make me believe it, darling."
It’s hard to breathe in the heat of the room, the heat of him. It’s even harder, somehow, to keep your eyes open. You’ve no idea why, but the urge to close your eyes and hang onto him consumes you. You don’t, however, not wanting to upset him, not when he looks so fucking good.
You’d known, had it whispered to you by Angel long ago, how the Radio Demon…eschewed any kind of intimacy, emotional or physical. Seeing him like this, huffing on top of you, his cock dragging deliciously against your g-spot (he really had a knack for finding it and abusing the hell out of that knowledge), this was absolutely priceless. Precious to you, even. His antlers grew more pointed and as tempted you were to touch them, you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. He was giving you pleasure, not pain.
He’s panting, and his eyes are dark and eager, his muscles taut, every muscles in his neck visible. He’s clearly holding back. He’s holding himself back, stopping himself from moving harder, or faster.
He’s waiting for your voice.
“Darling,” he almost growls, “say it. Say what I’m doing to you. Say it.”
You bite his lower lip experimentally, giving no verbal response (yet).
He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed.
“Fuck,” he swears. “Don’t tease me like that, darling, I’m trying to hold myself back. But then you keep making little noises and doing that stuff, and it’s making it hard, darling."
“You know, it’s really nice of you to try to keep things…you know, not painful for me. Can I ask why?” you ask.
His reply is somewhat impatient. “Because you’re my damn mate. Now tell me how I’m making you feel.”
That response makes you falter, but you try your best to talk anyway. “Alastor, you make me feel so full of you. You’re making it hard to think or even breathe.”
“Good,” he says, “that’s good, I want to make you feel like that, I want to take your breath away."
His hands grip your thighs, hard enough to probably leave bruises, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are dark and eager.
“Say more,” he snarls, “tell me more, tell me everything you feel, tell me everything you’re thinking, tell me all of it."
You rub the base of his ear. “How about you tell me, for once?”
He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed again.
“Goddamn it, darling,” he mutters, "you’re making this difficult. It’s hard enough trying to hold back already, but then you have to do all this little things, touching my ears, whispering in my ear, making me want to lose control.”
“Okay, fair enough, I won’t touch your fluffy, fluffy ear, but tell me anyway.”
He laughs, and it’s dark and eager. “You’re making me lose my mind, darling. Your touch, your voice, the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you sound, everything, all of it is perfect."
“What does it feel like to fuck me?” You pause. “How does it feel to fuck your mate?”
He pauses and he seems to shiver faintly.
“Goddamn, that’s a hell of a question," he mutters. "It’s almost overwhelming. It’s like there’s something inside me that needs this, that needs, this, needs you. I don’t know how to explain it better, but it’s never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this before, never felt like this, like, like I’m whole."
“Alastor…”
He looks at you, his pupils blown. “Yes, darling?"
You want to say something, but words aren’t coming. You kiss him instead.
He moans into your mouth, his eyes sliding almost closed, and you can feel him almost tremble against you, as if he’s in ecstasy, as if he’s overwhelmed by this.
“Damn it, darling, don’t tease me like that," he mumbles against your lips.
“How can it be teasing when you’re currently inside me?”
He lets out a sound that’s almost a whine, his hands still gripping your thighs.
“Because you’re making me want even more, darling,” he murmurs, “you don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now. Keep going, please."
He moans again, and it’s almost desperate.
“Kiss me again, darling, please," He half-pleads, "please, I need more, more, I need you to kiss me."
You don’t hesitate, gripping his hair to pull him down, his lips crashing down against yours.
He moans deep and desperate, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, kissing you deeply and hungrily. His hands are still gripping your thighs, so tight that it’s leaving bruises on you.
You don’t care about the bruises. There’s something about kissing him that’s making the already great sex even more intense, to the point you’re practically whimpering underneath him. He does a kind of turn and you break the kiss to scream.
He groans, his eyes almost shut. “Goddamn, that’s good, darling, that’s perfect. Say my name like that again."
“Alastor, please, I’m not sure how much more I can take…”
“Well, you will,” he snaps. “You’re mine, darling, and you’re going to take what I give to you, what I do to you, because you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with you. I want to hear my name from your pretty lips, and I want to hear my name moaned by your perfect voice."
He reaches between you, blunting a fingertip to rub at your clit. Miraculously, it’s not over-sensitised anymore, but it does speed things along—it also makes you vocal.
Very vocal.
Every filthy word you’ve ever even thought comes flying out from your lips.
He laughs, and the laughter is dark and eager.
“Fuck.” Alastor’s eyes half-close, "I love hearing those pretty noises from you, darling. I love hearing those sweet, beautiful sounds you make for me, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you make them, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you moan. Say my name again, say it again, and I’ll make you come harder than you ever have.”
You whimper softly. “Alastor, please, I can’t hold on, I can’t.”
He laughs, and his eyes slowly open, looking right into yours.
“Say it again. Say my name again, I need to hear you say my name again, I need to hear you moan it, I need to hear you whimper it, I need to hear it, I need that perfect voice to moan my name one more damn time."
Your body starts to shake and it’s damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his, but you definitely don’t want to deal with the consequences of your eyes closing again. Every little flick of his finger sends sparks through your whole body.
“Fuck, Alastor, goddamn it, please.”
He moans, and his eyes slide almost closed at those words.
“There we go, that’s a good darling, I want you to scream my name. I want you to scream and moan my name, I want to hear you, I want to know that you’re mine, I want you to say that you’re mine, I want to know that you know that you belong to me—“
“Alastor!” You begin to shout his name, over and over again.
He chuckles darkly, and you can feel the vibrations of it, feel it rumble through his chest.
“There we go, that’s exactly what I wanted, exactly what I wanted. You’re being so good, darling, so good, don’t stop now. Say it again, don’t stop saying it. Don’t stop saying my name, say it again for me, do it again and I’ll make you come, I’ll make you come so hard that you forget your own damn name, darling, say my name again and I promise that I’ll make you come so hard that you forget everything but my name, say it again, say my name again, don’t stop, never stop saying my name, say it, say it, say it say it please say just say my name, say my name, say, my fucking name!”
His fingers flick against your clit even faster, his cock presses against your g-spot ruthlessly.
You shout his name like a reverent mantra, fuelled by the heat in your belly.
“Good girl,” he says in a hoarse voice. His pace quickens and you can tell he’s just as close as you as you are. “Good girl, so good.”
Your thighs squeeze around his hips when you finally, finally come, pussy fluttering around his cock as he pounds you hard. Alastor kisses you, hard, as he chases after you. His hips soon still and his head drops down to your chest, breathing heavily.
You stroke his hair for a few moments, until your thighs stop trembling.
You hadn’t considered what would happen afterward. Well, you hadn’t actually considered any of this when you came to his room at all. What a bizarre turn of events. You don’t even know what time it is, how long that went on.
One thing you do know, or have at least gathered from various forms of media in hell, is that men want you to leave. When Alastor carefully gets onto his side, you silently slip out of bed—
Or you try to, anyway.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Alastor asks, a hint of anger and smidge of threat in his voice.
“I was, uh, just find my clothes,” you say.
“Those won’t be necessary,” he says sharply, jerking you back and pulling you flush against his body.
A few tense moments pass before he speaks again, clearly quite pissed.
“Why would you try to leave me?” he asks. “Didn’t I say you’re mine? Didn’t you say you’re mine? Didn’t you agree you belong to me? Didn’t you repeat it again and again? You had plenty of opportunities to deny me, darling. Didn’t I tell you that you are my mate? How dare you?”
“I didn’t—I don’t—I didn’t think—“
“That’s right, you didn’t think,” he says sharply, wrapping his arms securely around you. “I made it very clear that you are mine. Why did you try to leave?”
“To be honest, I thought that was meaningless sex talk!”
Alastor huffs. “Well, it wasn’t. You’re mine. You’re never to leave me again, am I understood?”
“But Alastor—“
“You will not deny me!”
“Okay, okay,” you say, your cheeks rather warm. “Okay, I’m yours. I won’t leave.”
“You will not even leave this room until after this goddamned rut finally goes away, and even then you’re on a short leash.”
“Eventually I’ll get hungry!”
Now he looks very pissed. “Do you believe I can’t or won’t provide for you?”
Your eyebrows leap. “Alastor, really, I’m not trying to offend you. I just don’t know what to do. Help me out here.”
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he snaps. “You’re going to stay here, with me, not with Charlie’s nonsense and not playing video games. You will be attentive to me and I will be the one providing you with meals and anything else that you and the fawns need.”
“Fawns?”
He tsks and makes a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I feel like I should worry about that,” you say.
Alastor squeezes you in his arms, his eyes closing. “Shut up.”
You can’t help but smile to yourself as he nuzzles against you, probably scenting, you realise. Thank God you were up late enough to hear everything in his room explode, to hear the pained moans of a man settling into a rut. Thank God for Cum Sluts vs Zombies.
#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader smut#first fic of the fandom!
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What if instead of threatening to take Ford's eyes, Bill just took Fiddleford's?
Tate still remembered the night his father's sight was taken from him.
"What have you done to me, Stanford?"
He felt the storm coming even before the first lightning struck. From the very moment he opened his eyes that morning until the very moment he lay back down to bed, he could feel a vicious tension brewing in the otherwise serene household.
Storms were very uncommon at Tate's house, and on the rare occasions they did arrive, they never stayed for long.
Yet, after a quiet breakfast full of anxious, unmet glances and clattering cutlery that rang far too loudly in the silence of the table, he knew that this storm was going to be unlike any other storm he'd witnessed before.
A prickling, disquieting static seemed to have made itself at home underneath his skin, that day. It had made every hair on his body stand on end, and an odd stinging sensation to dance across his spine and tongue; an uncomfortable urge to duck and take cover low on the ground nearly overwhelming his every sense. It was like waiting for the shattering thunderclap to sound after the sky turned white with a blinding flash of light. He knew what was coming, and the anticipation was unbearable.
His mother and father had acted as though nothing was wrong; as though they didn't feel the looming presence of the darkening clouds growing like a murky gray forest on the ceiling.
He hadn't been able to fathom at the time how adults could seem so all-knowing, and yet simultaneously be so utterly clueless about the very obvious happenings that surrounded them. Now, though, he just found it strange how adults often tend to assume children don't feel the stifling weight that they hung around themselves; as if children didn't breathe the same bitter choked air as their parents did. It wasn't even as though they did a very good job at pretending; his parents always were terrible liars.
When the lightning finally struck, it set the house ablaze.
He heard the thunder from his room, and felt the crackling heat crawl up the stairs and seep through the gap beneath his door. He'd laid in his bed, hand clasped nervously across his chest and looking up at his room's cloudy, weeping ceiling as a cacophonic explosion of noises came bursting from the living room downstairs. The fight had erupted with such unprecedented force that in Tate's young mind, he'd felt genuine fear of the house collapsing atop them all from the sheer force of the yelling.
The smell of burnt tongues gently wafted through the air, and Tate briefly wondered if it hurt his parents when they scorched their mouths with such scalding words just as much as it hurt for him to hear it.
It was a big fight; a terrible, big fight; so loud, and so very angry, and helpless, and desperate, and betrayed, and sad.
The back and forth screeching seemed endless, and eventually the screaming words began to muddle and merge into one another until they hardly even sounded human anymore. Suddenly there were animals wailing in the living room downstairs, and Tate could do nothing but listen helplessly and grip his interlocked fingers tighter; hoping that if he stayed still enough, then the growling beasts that were shattering plates downstairs wouldn't come upstairs.
But then,
then,
something changed.
The shift was all too sudden; too abrupt; too quick even for the usually sharp witted child to catch on, and before he knew it, the screams of anger suddenly shifted into one of pure, unadulterated horror.
"Fiddleford, your eyes- good lord, your eyes! Let me look at them!" "Don't touch me! I- I must call Stanford, he's done something to me. Him and that demon, they've cursed me." "For Heaven's sake! Please, forget about that damned Stanford of yours for one moment and listen to yourself! My husband's gone mad, mad!"
And suddenly his parents were human again.
Tate was restless in his bed as his heart seemed to beat bruises against his ribs, his sweaty fingers digging crescent shaped grooves into his skin as fear enclosed its frigid claws around his throat in a vice-like grip. He couldn't breathe.
The storm was over, and it should have reassured him, and yet he was anything but.
Curiosity and fear had been what forced him to kick the sheets off himself and creep his way down the rickety wooden steps. He had to know what happened, he had to know what damage the storm had caused, he had to know.
His steps were far from quiet, and the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet hardly did him any favors, but no one answered the calls of the squeaking wood. No one came peeking out from the living room to stop the obviously sneaking presence that was tip toeing through the halls; No one called out to check on their little child; all was silent, and calm, except for his mother's soft sobbing coming from the kitchen.
When Tate eventually found his father, he saw
devastation.
The storm had been merciless. It had left nothing behind but a shuddering husk of a man. His father was shaking like a leaf, shoulders tense and back hunched over as though bowed by an incredible burden. The telephone receiver was held in his hand like a lifeline; as if it was the only thing in the world that was keeping him tethered to sanity, and somehow, Tate didn't doubt that it was.
Curled up on the floor in the dark, muttering and trembling, he dared say his father looked... small.
It almost felt surreal to see his father in such a state, like witnessing a God collapse, or a star's light dim to nothingness. His father had always been a solid, permanent pillar sho seemed able to hold up the whole world on his shoulders, and still stand tall and proud despite the weight.
And yet, the crumbling remains of a once impermeable monolith now lay scattered across the hallway floor and splattered across the walls.
The sight had scared him.
At the time, Tate hadn't known what had happened. Even to this day, he still wasn't too sure he understood what exactly had taken place in that living room for his father to have so sudddenly gone from seeing to blind in the matter of seconds.
His mother had tried, in vain, to explain it to him later, to try and make him understand when he was eventually old enough to hear the gruesome tale; but still, he struggled to fully wrap his head around it.
"It was as though his eyes just sunk into his skull," his mother had recounted to him with a haunted look in her eyes. "They suddenly just vanished into the empty sockets of his face, like someone pulled them out from inside his head. There was no blood, no resistance, no tearing. It was as if his eyes were simply plucked out of sight by some invisible hand."
There had been blood on the walls when he had found father back then, a long trail of gorey wet red smeared all across the lovely yellow wallpaper. He realized only now, recalling the memory, that the blood back then had not been from his father's eyes, but from the deep gouges he had dug into his face with his nails, his searching fingers desperately looking for eyes that weren't there beneath his empty eyelids.
"What have you done to me, Stanford?"
Tate had never heard his father's voice sound so raw, so afraid. It was so unlike the familiar comforting drawl he'd grown to love and recognize, it almost sounded alien, coming from his father.
"I can't see, Stanford, I can't- my eyes, they're gone. Why are they gone? What have you done?" "Answer me, damnit, what have you done?"
His father never got his answer, because whoever was on the other side of the line soon hung up, and his father was suddenly left blind and alone.
#something something we all talk about the calm before the storm but never the devastation taht comes after it#anyways- completely winged this and I have no beta so if there are any grammar mistakes then So Be It#I realized I haven't posted for this AU in a while so here is some content babes <3#HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB AU#gravity falls#gravity falls au#fiddleford mcgucket#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#old man mcgucket#tate mcgucket#stanford pines#tw blood#tw body horror#tw gore#tw horror#tw eye horror#gravity falls fanfiction#ficlet#oneshot#fanfiction#my writing#tw graphic#my art
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Why I think Miko Nakadai is arguably the best human character in TFP
Don't misunderstand, I know Miko was handled haphazardly throughout the series' run. That said, aside from her skipping off into the battlefield, she was actually a great character - and, in my personal opinion, the actual audience surrogate character in TFP.
Now, let me explain.
Although Miko's backstory is told and not shown - a rich daughter who had everything she could ever want, up to and including two pure-breed cats and piano lessons from age three onwards (which, coincidentally, tells us she's brainy despite her antics) - much can be inferred from what snippets of her past we get, along with her interactions with the Autobots. For one, she obviously can't stand most adult supervision, which is likely because of a few things. For one, back home in Japan, Miko would have had to be proper and polite, always restrained, and had to do what she was told. While this is normal (to an extent) in the West, in the East this is etiquette that needs to be obeyed, especially if you're as well off as she is; her actions, specifically in Japan, will reflect on her parents, but to a far lesser extent in America. Thus, when presented with the freedoms of the USA, Miko not only jumps at the chance for an exchange program that will give her the mobility she craves, she also chooses the place that has the least amount of glamor. By extension of choosing to settle in Jasper, Miko's also displaying two other traits: she's not afraid of going to a place vastly different from her home, and she isn't disgusted by a small town with very little monetary value to it.
Secondly, Miko's disregard for authority from adults but deference to the 'Bots teases us with an insecurity - namely, an insecurity that no adult ever gives her a chance to make her own decisions.
Just think about it: All the times Miko's blown off the human adults, it's when they've tried to decide her life for her. Miko has, from what we can see, had her whole life dictated, up to and including those piano lessons. She may be a prodigy at almost everything, but her preferred instrument is the guitar - and yet, she wasn't given lessons in that from the time she was a toddler. Therefore, she feels confined and controlled by the authority of her elders. And so, while Miko may be able to sway Bulkhead into getting her out of detention and consistently slip past the watchful eyes of the 'Bots, it's out of a desperate motivation to control her own life. Now, she does hold too much interest in the battles and getting to watch them, but wouldn't you have that same eagerness if Gundams or Jaegers came to life before your eyes? Yes, she knows their lives are in danger, that they couldn't come home, but there's still a fantastical element to all of this about the Autobots. And it remains so because while she loves them all, Bulkhead is the only one who, while giving her life advice and trying to keep her in check/alive, lets her make her own decisions and take control of her life and her actions.
And that's why she keeps going to the field. That's why she only listens to the reprimands with half an ear and why she recovers so fast from Optimus' near death experiences, as well as Raf's close call with death.
And that's why Miko's world shatters when Bulkhead is left in a half-dead coma from his fight with Hardshell. Because the one person in the universe who gave her freedom and care without deciding her life for her was not just seriously injured, but possibly on death's door.
That's why Miko runs around without a care until the S2 episode "Hurt": because she wants autonomy to decide her life, even if it's stupid choices that could get her killed.
And after "Hurt", we see a new Miko. Yes, she remains gung-ho and fierce, but she stops running onto the battlefield. She takes less enjoyment from the War. Because now, with the reality of war fresh in her mind, she knows the risks and the stakes involved, and she will never take that or her friends for granted anymore. This is further proved when Miko 'sneaks' along for "Chain of Command", but with a twist: she asks Wheeljack if she can come along - and if memory serves, this is the first mission Bulkhead's been on with herself present since the events before "Hurt". Clearly, Miko is still worried about losing Bulkhead - only, this time, she values the words of the 'Bots, and now seeks permission to join a mission, though she wisely asks Wheeljack for this blessing.
This is the beautiful part of her arc, crowned by her battle with Starscream and his Seekers (which is also just straight up awesome.) When she's kicked the afts of everyone, and Starscream tries to intimidate her with his usual "I killed Cliffjumper" speech, Miko's response is this calm, slightly rough, retort:
"Big whoop. I snuffed Hardshell."
In this moment, Miko Nakadai is shown to have grown from an excitable child into an unyielding, but mature, adult warrior. She no longer treats the War and the 'Bots like a game, or a release. She treats them as her friends who she will gladly risk her own life for.
And that, in my opinion, makes her the best human protagonist in all of Transformers: Prime, and Transformers media in general.
As for what I said earlier about her being the true audience surrogate, be honest with yourselves: If any of us were given the chance to meet the Autobots, wouldn't you be just as irrepressible as Miko, as eager to help as she was, and tempted to go to the battlefield to see the action/make sure your 'Bot wasn't going to die? That's what I mean when I say she's the audience surrogate - Miko acts like we would, and learns as we would about the War and the 'Bots if we suddenly came across them.
That's my two cents on Miko, and why she's the human character I respect the most in Transformers...probably of all time. If you liked it, I'm glad; Miko deserves better, and I hope I explained why well.
Til next time, folks!
"Autobots, transform!"
#transformers#transformers prime#tfp#tfp miko#tfp miko nakadai#miko nakadai#tfp bulkhead#tfp optimus#tfp optimus prime#tf prime#tfp ratchet#tfp megatron#tfp starscream#tfp soundwave#tfp wheeljack#tfp arcee#tfp bumblebee#autobots#decepticons#rafael esquivel#tfp raf#maccadam#tfp jack
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꒰ EYES ON ME .:. LN4 ꒱
( lando norris x reader )
IN WHICH. y/n rides lando in his gaming chair (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, riding, unprotected p in v (safe sex guys!!!), slight dirty talk, pure filth imo 🤭
NOTE. when i saw this ask i was like 'YES.' so here it is!!! nothing much to say other than enjoy <33
SIDENOTE. requests are closed!! my brain has been milked dry of everything writing. i have 2 in-progress works so i will still upload those then probably go on a small writing break <3 also dividers are not mine, creds to the owners
edited to add tag on banner
lando's whimpering.
he's actually fucking whimpering and it's then he knows that he's absolutely drowning in everything y/n. her hands digging into his shoulders, her thighs squeezed into the impossible space of his gaming chair and her pussy, her fucking pussy is clenching him so tightly that he feels light headed, as if he smoked a joint.
sweat glistens on his forehead like oil, and the more y/n bounces on his dick, her breasts with her, the more whimpers leak out of his mouth and his eyebrows slant downwards.
"oh fuck— you're doing so good baby, so good," he moans, head thrown back like there's not a muscle in his neck, and y/n begins to grind as her lips suck and lick on lando's neck.
he can't do anything but just sit there and let her take control, he's completely at her mercy and his hands just rest on her hips, nails sinking into the flesh everytime a submitting flash of pleasure shoots through the nerves of his dick.
his cock throbs against the walls of her cunt, and his eyes squeeze shut so hard he swears he goes blind. it's too much, his t shirt clings to his chest like a lifeline and y/n's lips find his in a filthy, sloppy kiss that pulls his mind back to the present. he's instantly dragging his lips and tongue against her own, feeling the way her mouth grows slack and it gives him the chance to wrap his swollen lips around her tongue.
she's grinding faster, pressing so much on his cock that a loud, stretched moan escapes him like he's punched out every ounce of energy into it. it brings an insatiable ache for more, his hands gripping her ass with all it has to give and dragging her up and down his cock to milk it dry.
"fuck lando," her mouth whimpers with her head thrown back, hands on his chair's backrest. the sight is sinful before him, breasts spilling out her crop top, practically begging to be touched, and back arched so much it looks animalistic.
"come on, y/n," he pants, licking a stripe between the valley of her breasts before giving it a gentle kiss, "fuck yourself on my cock."
she's doing just that, beautifully, like she was made for his dick. her pussy squeezes and squeezes like it wants to kill him, and his hands lift and push her on his cock more and more, just as he feels her movements turn sloppy. the wet, dirty sounds of skin slapping sharply on skin makes his dick pulsate and lando's mind begs for it more as his hips raise desperately to meet y/n's.
"i'm gonna cum, lando, i'm gonna cum," she's sobbing. fucking hell, she's sobbing, and the tears glimmer in his purple leds light they're art. he's moaning and groaning, losing himself as he draws hickeys on her collar bones with reckless abandon.
"cum for me, baby."
she shakes as she lets go, walls constricting his dick like a mold and it completely shatters the tension building up in his balls. his cum shoots straight and deep into her pussy, mouth mumbling incoherently upon the skin of her neck as they ride their highs down.
"fucking hell, lan'."
he smiles tiredly, pressing a kiss into her mouth.
"you're gonna be the death of me."
that she is. for he would lose himself in the essence of his girlfriend, again and again, even if it meant leaving a game halfway through.
#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.writes: ln4#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris scenarios#formula 1#f1#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 smut
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