#(maybe if I was *ugly* he wouldn't have touched me)

[xsinistralowex]

Sinistra felt as though she was doing well. Rabastan hadn't left. He was still sitting with her in the tavern, listening to her, asking her questions and being more and more interested. She both wondered how she got so lucky but also knew she was a prize. She was worth having the dark mark. There was so much she had to offer: her ruthlessness, loyalty, beliefs, intelligence and strength. Sinistra was pure magic in everything she touched. The dark mark and being a full blown Death Eater would only be another thing to succeed at. And she would, come hell or high water.

The barkeep noticed Sinistra had no more wine and came to offer more. She nodded in approval. She didn't normally drink much but there was something about the night that screamed for wine. Maybe it was an early celebration. Yes, that must be it. She wouldn't be getting the mark that night but she was getting closer every moment and every time she met with Rabastan. It made her full of childlike glee. "Excite me? Thrill me. Naturally." Sinistra said with a straight back. It was the first time she admitted out loud that she had such emotions. "I'm honored you are glad you are the one who found me. It's such a wonderful thing to hear," a sly smile crossed Sinistra's lips, "And I wouldn't have it any other way, Rabastan."

But then he asked the question. What did she do to you? The muggle who destroyed everything sacred to Sinistra -- or everything that was once sacred. The muggle had taken away Sinistra's dreams. She had come this far. She couldn't lie to Rabastan now. It was time to reveal the ugly truth about her past.

"I was engaged to the love of my life. I was out with my mother preparing for the wedding. When I came home I found my fiancé in bed with a muggle," she gulped a large amount of her wine then leaned into Rabastan. "She deserved the cruciatus curse she received," she said with a sick smile.

If he'd known the extent of her ambition and desire to please, it would have only added to his certainty. Rabastan saw potential in Sinistra. Though he'd asked for her motivations, they were not the only important detail in a new recruit. But he had moved beyond finding bodies to send into battle. He had no interest in sourcing people who were easily manipulated by fear, power or greed. The ranks required true assets with enough intelligence to think for themselves and act with responsible integrity. He believed she possessed such qualities. She would not be simply a lamb to the slaughter, but instead, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Picking at the canapés after she had chosen, he vaguely wondered whether it would have been better to have this conversation when she was completely sober. He decided not. Her giddiness would reveal what he desired, and perhaps it would mask his prying.

"Yes," he admitted slyly, glancing up as he selected some kind of gillyweed infused pastry. "I thought this would excite you. Truth be told, I'm rather pleased to have discovered you for myself." Not that he'd gone looking for her, but he had been the one to test her and judge her capabilities. He would take full credit for the latter.

Her answer was standard enough. She spoke the kind of mantra smattered through her propaganda, and for a moment he wondered if she would offer anything of interest after all. But then the disclosure came, and he could not stop the sour smile from riveting his features like an unpleasant promise. "What did she do to you? We will have a future, one day, where it is no longer possible for Muggles to defile our lives."

[hidefdoritos]

.

[pearlymel]

Curiosity— Imbibitor Lunae

Synopsis: you're curious about his new form, and you can't keep your hands to yourself.

Wc: around 1.5k

Warning(s): nsfw but not really (?), grinding, making out, dan heng ruining his pants yeah... :P also gender neutral reader!!

Ugly, a monster, a sinner.

Those were the words that circled around Dan Heng's mind as he stared at his reflection on the mirror. His expression blank, and he almost cringes at how his new features clung onto him, a reminder of someone he never was, a reminder to other people who might recognise as someone who isn't him.

He stares at himself like the mirror is about to shatter right infront of him. Ever since he came back in his new form, you were in shock. He even thought you might hate him now, thus why he was hiding and locking himself for now from the others. Maybe you're better off without—

"Dan Heng!" You barge into his room, your tone almost urgent. But you both just stare at eachother, him being in utter shock like he was just caught doing something, and you.. just coming in without even knocking.

Manners.

"You—"

"Just let me," you step back to close the door again, and he tilts his head in confusion before he hears your knuckles knock on the door twice.

"it's me, may i come in?" You ask, your tone almost eager now and he can see how the doorknob was rotating ever so slightly, making his lips twitch upwards.

"you may." And then you immediately open the door, swinging it wide then closing it behind you when you enter.

"So—"

"I'm—"

You both speak at the same time, making you suppress a laugh. "You first," he nods, and you clear your throat.

You step closer to him, which makes him already on alert, but it makes you confused. Have you dont something he did not like?

"i just..." You look around, your hand reaching to rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. "... Missed you."

The confession makes the tips of his ear flush with the faintest colour of red, he sighs in relief before opening his arms for you. You take it as an invitation, almost jumping in his arms which sends him to stumble back a bit.

"My apologies," he whispered, resting his cheek on top of your head. "Were you trying to hide away?" You ask with that suspicious tone that makes him laugh quietly.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like my new... Self." His admission made you squint your eyes, lifting your head up to look at him. "New self? You're still Dan Heng." You shrug, taking everything as if it was a normal thing which left him dumbfounded.

"you know what I'm talking about."

"you mean your new little features?" You quirk an eyebrow, breaking the embrace to place your hands on your hips.

"Well about them, it's just..." The moment you eye him from head to toe, is the moment he thinks he lost it all.

That's it, he thinks. This is the part where you will find him different and unpleasant to the eye, where you will leave him like those drama's March watches on—

"I'm really curious to touch them."

His shoulders slump at your words, your simple request was making him contemplate everything again.

"what?" You ask when you see how dejected he looks, "No, it's nothing." He straightens his back again, his eyes unfocused when he tries talking to you again.

"so... You're just curious to touch my new features?" He asks, followed by a blink of his eyes. "Yes. Specifically your horns." You answer back with the brightest smile while your hands are clasped to your back.

"My horns..." He hums, looking up at his head, his fingers inching to feel them. When he looks back at you, you step closer again to him, ready to when he gives you the permission.

And just when you were raising your hands, a "no." Slips from his lips. His back turned to you and already walking away.

You feel like an arrow was just shot right through your heart at the rejection.

"Why nooot?" You pout, following right after him, your gaze shifting to the tail on his back that's swinging back and forth. It's all so... Enchanting on him.

"Just.. no," he mumbled in a low, embarrassed tone. He sits down on the red chair, keeping his back turned at you but you were quick to turn the chair around.

"i require an explanation, my dear dragon." You try to be firm when you lean closer, resting your hands on his sides right on the arms of the chair.

But he really can't take you seriously, so he just looks at you flatly. "They're sensitive." He simply answers with his arms crossed and eyes closed.

"that's it?" You ask with a sigh.

His eyes widen when he sees how close your face is to him now when he opens his eyes again, he can almost feel a nervous droplet of sweat dropping down his nape.

"..." He remains silent for a minute while you keep up that sad expression you always put up.

When he sighs, you look back at him with a hopeful gaze, "fine, you can touch my horns. But be gentle, okay?"

It's like the gods have responded to your wishes when he graces you with the opportunity to touch his new features that you've been itching to feel for some time now.

"I'll sit here," you point at his lap, but you don't wait for his answer before you're already slotted comfortably on his lap.

"You're shameless, aren't you?"

"Only for you." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking both of your hands, wrapping them gently around his horns to feel it.

So smooth, you note. yet cold to the touch. Your thumb brushing over the smooth base of it curiously which makes Dan Heng's breath hitch, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as your palms gently caressed the smooth, pebbled texture. He swallowed, trying to maintain his composure even as his skin tingled.

"Careful." he murmured, his voice a bit unsteady. "I am careful," A soft huff escaped his lips, his hands finding their place on your waist.

He looked up at you, silently hoping you would exercise some restraint as you continued your exploration.

"They feel really smooth, i like it." You giggle, your palms now firmly wrapping around them yet still careful not to hurt him. You try moving your hands from the base of his horns to the tip, almost like stroking them gently.

The first stroke almost felt nothing to him but shivers running down his spine that he quickly surpassed. But by the second and third stroke, he involuntary let out a soft moan with his fingers gripping your waist.

You both freeze. You from the shock of the noise he just made, and him from the embarrassment that he couldn't even control.

"Dan Heng—"

"okay that's enough." He quickly cuts you off, trying to carry you out of his lap but you stay still.

"don't be shyyyy." You coo teasingly at him, your hands now cupping his face together. "Please don't tease me." He tried muttering when you press his face together. "I won't. I promise, can i? Pretty please?" He knows what you're asking for, to touch him again, to tease him again. How did he even get here in the first place?

But Dan Heng's thoughts muddled as you captured his lips in a deep, messy kiss, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp. The combined stimulation of your touch on his horns and the feeling of your tongue against his sent shivers down his spine, his hands clenching on your waist even harder that he's afraid he might bruise your precious skin.

He groaned into the kiss, his chest heaving with the intensity of the sensations. He pulled you closer, his body automatically seeking more contact.

"Needy," you continue to tease him, his poor face and ears already so flushed, already gasping like he's out of air. And the hand that was sneaking to his tail only worsened the situation on his part.

His lips parted as he felt your fingers grip his tail, the firm appendage writhing gently in your grasp. The sensation of your touch sent a shudder down his spine, and he had to suppress a gasp of pleasure.

The texture of his tail was smooth, yet firmer than you had expected, the scales rippling under your touch. You're surprised when his tail wraps around your waist, his head falling back, baring his throat while he continued panting softly.

He seemed even more desperate than you were, his fingers clawing at your thighs as if asking for more.

"Deng Heng, sweetheart," the petname plus the feeling of your lips on his throat almost makes his eyes roll back.

"no, don't—" A low growl rumbled in his throat as you began grinding against him, the friction sparking a deeper wave of heat and desire. The moan that escaped your lips only heightened his own hunger, his hips automatically pushing up to meet yours.

He's panting even faster now, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another messy kiss, your hands continuing to stimulate his horns by giving them long languid strokes, your hips meeting at a set and desperate pace, his tail tightening even more around your waist which elicits a whimper out of your throat.

The noise that leaves his lips against yours makes your face heat up, both of you slowing down, your half-lidded eyes clearing up to look down at his lap where you find an obvious wet spot.

"Did you just—"

"not a word." He mutters in complete embarrassment this time, hiding his face against your chest and you only chuckle while trying to comfort him.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Meeting Up With Ken After He's Moved Back To Japan

Ken Sato X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Reader has a slight panic attack, touch of angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

(A/N:) I have never watched Ultraman in my life and I never planned on it honestly. But dang I saw the trailer ad for Ultraman Rising and they barely give you a glimpse of Ken but it was enough. I watched it. I loved it. And now I'm obsessed with Ken Sato. End of story. I have lots in my drafts I want to write for him so keep an eye out! But until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The day that Ken Sato had moved out of your life had been the saddest one you could remember. Being kids, the adults didn't see it as such a big deal but between the two of you, it seemed like the world had ended. You both kept in touch but it still didn't make the distance seem any shorter. Years passed by and video calls turned into phone calls. Phone calls turned into missed calls. Missed calls turned into text messages and even then that didn't last long. As you grew older you let the thought of seeing Kenji again go and then the pain finally eased. You never felt that ache again, until you watched the news.

Super star player Ken Sato returns to his home country and that is the day your little world stopped spinning. Your phone rang off the hook as your friends tried to call you.

"Did you hear," your friend screamed making you grimace, "Kenji is back!"

"Yep," you sighed. "It's all over the news. Hard to ignore it."

"You don't sound excited! I thought he was your best friend when you were kids?!"

"He was, but that was a long time ago and now he's this superstar baseball player. Why would he remember me when he's made it so big?"

"Don't make that excuse, you need to go see him. You'll see that he'll be just as happy to see you as you are of him."

Despite your better judgement and a long sleepless night, you found yourself at the Giant's stadium. You had tried Ken's house only for him to be gone. And despite feeling like a stalker you tried both day and night. When that didn't work you tried looking at the restaurant you both loved as kids, no luck there either. You knew the stadium would be your best bet but you didn't want to get carted off for trespassing or embarrass Ken by your being there. Maybe you were using those as excuses. Or maybe you were terrified by the face that he probably wouldn't remember you or he'd laugh in your face that you came crawling back. Your heart slammed against your chest and your breathing turned into panicked gasps. This was impossible, you didn't know why you even bothered.

Reporters began to exit the building, pushing you along as you tried to calm yourself. The chatter of the group was too much for you at the moment. You stepped away towards a quieter part of the stadium, not noticing that you were entering in a restricted part for players and managers only. The quiet helped calm you and now you finally realized where you were at.

"Miss are you lost," a man wearing a security uniformed approached you and your panic starting to rear it's ugly head once more.

"I'm sorry I got lost," you eased back, clinging tightly to your bag's strap.

"It happens," he said politely. "May I escort you back to the main entrance?"

"Yes please."

You deflated as you followed the security guard. It didn't seem like you were ever going to see your best friend ever again. Your heart broke and you refused to let yourself cry until you got home. You almost made it back to the hall where you got lost in the flood of reporters when a voice calling your name had you freezing. He couldn't possibly know it was you? After all this time did he really remember you so well?

"Kenji?"

"I thought it was you," he grinned.

You sucked in a breath at the sight of the boy you once knew. You could tell he was handsome on the TV screen but you weren't prepared for the sight in real life. Even as a kid you had a crush on him, you just didn't realize it until later. Your mom thought it had been cute but now you just felt embarrassment. With longer sleek black hair and eyes that were so dark they sucked you in. You stopped breathing for a second when he finally stood in front of you. His eyebrow raised, he bent over waving a hand in your face. Lean and tall, it was no wonder he was an amazing athlete.

"Hello," Ken stared leaning over. "You still with me?"

"It's so good to see you," you stumbled stepping back at the proximity. "I didn't know you were coming back so soon."

He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't planned honestly. Losing mom and dad needing me."

You gasped grabbing his arm, "Kenji I'm so sorry."

You glanced to your hand and you quickly let him go, cheeks flushing brightly.

"It's okay," his smile wavered. "Have to grow up sometime."

"But," you started feeling horrible.

"It was good seeing you again," Ken replied turning away. Though this was the first time you'd seen him in so long, he still had that same way of showing his true emotions. The slightly hunched shoulders and it felt like all the warmth suddenly left the room.

"Kenji wait," you yelled.

He turned keeping his hands in his pockets. The sorrow in his eyes had you blinking back tears and you knew it was time to be brave. He remembered you and though he wasn't the same person when he left, he was still your friend. Yeah a little taller, a little more selfish, a lot of ego (you couldn't deny he earned the right), and a lot more handsome, but Kenji Sato all the same.

"Wanna go get something to eat? Our old haunt is still open and I would love to treat you. I've," you paused. "I've missed you a lot actually."

Though it didn't quite reach his eyes Ken smiled, nodding in agreement, "I'd like that. But I'm buying, no arguments."

"Fine Mr. Super Baseball Man."

He laughed, "You haven't changed at all."

That was a little disappointing. You were hoping he'd at least see how much you've grown, while he was away.

The restaurant was busy, a line forming outside but you both didn't mind waiting. Kenji hadn't eaten here in years and if you were honest, you hadn't either. You tried once after he left and though the food always tasted delicious, it wasn't the same without him. You both were ushered in a little bit after arriving and after all this time the owners remembered you both. Ordering the same thing as you both did all those years ago, it didn't take long for contentment to ease between you both. Ken's foot tapped beneath the table and you could tell he was struggling.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," you spoke up. Not wanting him to feel like he had to do anything to make you comfortable. Though you still felt awkward, especially when fans made their way to him for pictures and autographs, you couldn't deny that it was still easy being around him.

"It's not that I don't want to," he groaned, now drumming his fingers on the table. "It's been forever. I should have so many things to tell you and I do! I just...I don't know where to begin."

"Start with baseball that seems to be going well," you grinned.

"Ha! You could say it is going decent," he nodded. "It was different in America, I'm curious to see how it's going to go being back home."

"I imagine so. Not going to lie though, home wasn't the same either when you left. It felt like I had to start all over, it was kind of terrifying."

"I'm sorry."

You touched his hand, "It's not your fault. We were both kids. Life changes, gets in the way, separates us from loved ones. We had no control over it, like we don't have much control over anything now. I'm glad you were able to find your way Kenji. I'm glad you made a life for yourself and I'm glad you got to follow your dream. I can tell how much baseball means to you."

Ken nodded a small smile pulling at his lips again, "It does. But I think this moment right here with you means more to me than baseball right now."

You flushed brightly. You weren't expecting a reply like that but it made you feel warm inside. You opened your mouth to reply, though unsure of what you could possibly say when your orders were set down before you. Saying thanks for the food and the chime of you both breaking chopsticks apart. Another peaceful silence stayed between you both as you both slurped noodles. True to his word Ken paid for the meal and you both left with full stomachs. Your heart felt lighter and you could have sworn you were walking on air. Glancing up at Ken, you caught him watching you intently.

"Something on your mind there Mr. Sato?"

Ken shook his head giving you a look like he'd tasted something bitter, "Please don't ever call me that again. Making me feel like my father over here."

You could tell things weren't good between Ken and his dad so you didn't pry. "Okay Kenji," you crooned making him shiver.

You didn't realize how you made him feel. When Ken saw you lost in the stadium, following that security guard his heart had skipped a beat. You two had always been close as children and even though you had stopped communicating for years, what he felt for you never waned. Having you here by his side, so close and yet still so far away, it felt like a dream. One he never wanted to wake from. With a soft touch, his fingers trailed down your arm leaving goosebumps in it's wake. You stared up at him, soft eyes taking in every bit of him. He never felt so naked or alive. He didn't stop until he found the back of your hand and still he slipped further, pointer stroking against your digits. Then he bit the bullet, taking your hand into his. He almost laughed at how much smaller your hand was compared to his, but he didn't want to ruin the moment. He squeezed tighter, careful not to hurt you in anyway. You stiffened at first, shocked at him being so bold. But you had to remember he was used to getting what he wanted.

"Would it be possible that we could do this again," he asked. "Maybe somewhere more formal?"

You nodded unable to speak. He kissed the back of your hand and you could have melted right then.

"I would like that very much Ken," your voice wobbled but you didn't let it keep you from speaking.

The answering smile had you in a puddle, the only thing keeping you upright was Kenji himself as you both started reminiscing. And now that some things had been brought out in the open, you both found yourselves talking a lot easier as the past few years passed by with every verbal exchange. You never felt so happy and all it took was for the game of baseball to bring back your best friend and you were ready to see what the future held in store.

[may-stuff]

The Only Thing He Needs | F.C

Franco Colapinto x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Cunnilingus, p in v, creampie (in that order) typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language. reader has breasts and a vagina but nothing else about her looks is specified

Word count: 3k

Author's note: Behold... my first child. It's ugly af but I love it because it's mine.

This is shorter than expected and I'm sure it'll disappoint many of you, so I apologise in advance. I'm just a girl trying to make the fandom happy.

Interactions with this thing would be appreciated, even if you want to let me know how much it sucked 💖

The sun is setting when he finally enters his room after what it felt like an eternity. The weather outside is so hot that when the cool air touches his skin he almost lets out a groan.

Franco would be lying if he said that it wasn't an extraordinary day, because it was. Despite the tremendous heat inside the car and the physical pain he went through, he did an amazing job and couldn't be prouder of himself and everything he has achieved at this point in his career. Sensing that there's a lot more to come, he can only feel excitement for the near future.

Still, even after everything that has happened and all the love and support he's received in the last couple of hours, there's something missing. Someone.

You.

You were there at the paddock during the race, but trying to avoid the media and all the fuss that would be caused if they knew of your relationship, you left the moment you saw the cameras. He hasn't seen you since then, almost three hours ago, and he wouldn't be exaggerating if he said that he is dying because of it.

You're everything he needs.

When his eyes finally find you, you're coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your hair is loose and messy, your feet bare and there's that glint in your pretty eyes when you realise that now he's here in front of you, breathing the same air. Your beauty makes his heart swell with love.

His arms are wrapped around your waist the moment you literally jump into his embrace. Soon you're showering him in kisses all over his face and neck. He giggles in response, the grip on your waist increasing slightly.

"Missed you." You mutter, nose nudging the left side of his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

"It's okay." Franco answers. "You're here now. That's all I need."

And he means every word.

You smile in response. A smile that reaches your eyes and makes them shine with such intensity that makes him feel dizzy with love.

"You should take a shower." You don't miss the way he pouts when you pull away from him to have a better look at his face. "You stink, love."

"You love me anyway. Stinky and all."

Your laughter echoes in the entirety of the room as you walk towards the closet, where you look for a clean shirt and shorts and then toss them towards him. Rolling his eyes, he walks to the bathroom, chuckling when your voice, from the other side of the door, reminds him that you love him always.

Almost half an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, all wet hair and bare chest. He finds you in front of the bureau where you’ve put some of your clothes and he knows he should be thinking about something else right now, maybe discuss the race and his future in F1, or maybe he should tell you how much he would love to let the world know that he is yours, but all he can do is stare at you. 

Leaning on the doorframe, he observes your every move. You’re not doing something extraordinary, only going through your things, probably looking for the earrings you’ve lost again, but he isn’t afraid of admitting that every single thing you do, no matter how big or small, make you look like the most fascinating creature in existence.

Soon, as every other day, he finds himself walking in your direction. Hands itching with the need of touching you.

There's something about you. Something that lures him in like nothing else has done before. Maybe it's your hair and the intoxicating smell that touches his nostrils when he buries his face in it. Or maybe it's your skin and its taste, so sweet that it forbids him from thinking straight. It sure is the sound you make when you feel his hands on your waist.

His long fingers roam the skin of your waist and back as his lips kiss a wet trail down the right side of your neck. A soft breath leaves his mouth when his lips reach the spot right over your pulse, wasting no time in sinking his teeth in your flesh, softly but hard enough to make you hiss in pain.

"Fran." You warn him. Dainty hands touch his in an attempt to push him away, but his grip on your waist becomes stronger with the fear of losing the contact  with your skin.

"No, no. Por favor." He whimpers. He whimpers impossibly close to your ear, the agonic plea making you squirm in his arms almost against your own will.

"You bit me, Franco."

"Perdón." He cries. "Perdón. I won't do it again."

The mere thought of you leaving hurts him so bad that it is almost physical. It's been such a tough day and now all he wants is to hold you and never let go. You're the only one who can make him feel safe, at home.

There's nothing in this world that Franco loves more than having you in his arms, being able to kiss every part of you and rejoice in the way your body and soul respond to him. Always you, no one else.

“Tanta belleza..." he whispers. Hands now travel up your abdomen and then your sternum, until they finally rest on your round breasts. When he starts kneading your flesh at the same time he keeps kissing and licking the skin of your neck, you moan softly. In response he chuckles, amused by the way in which his words and touch make you forget everything.

You want to be mad at him, you want to scold him and forbid him from touching you if he bites you again, but your mind is dizzy by his kiss and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His touch breaks your resolve and he knows it, always taking advantage of that.

Today is no exception, because soon he starts moving against you. Hips rocking forward, his growing erection brushes against the roundness of your ass, making both of you moan out loud.

"Can you feel me, baby?" He asks and he sounds desperate. You want to answer but fail miserably because of the intensity of it all. "Can you feel how hard you make me? This is all because of you, for you." 

You moan his name when he moves his hips once more, your own body meeting him halfway, desperately  looking for the contact that makes your skin shiver. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, words interrupted by the kisses he's still giving you. “The things I want to do to you…” 

Your answer comes in a shaky breath.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The next few minutes happen so fast that you barely have a moment to process it all. In no time you're laying on the soft bed, your shirt is long gone and the cool air kisses your skin. The only piece of clothing remaining on your body is your underwear. 

Franco is at your feet, looking at you with eyes full of need and adoration. He takes a long time taking you in, pretty eyes looking at every piece of you, and when your own hands travel from your abdomen to your breasts, repeating his actions from before, a soft whine escapes his mouth. He observes as you touch yourself for him, right hand going down until you start playing with the hem of your knickers. He licks his lips, sight fixed on the wet spot in them. 

Just before you can sneak your hand under the soft fabric, his long fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you aside. He takes no time in replacing you, taking both sides of your panties and pulling them down. In no time they're being thrown to some place on the ground, long forgotten for the rest of the night. 

Hands on both of your knees, he spreads your legs open and lets out a shaky breath the moment your dripping cunt is finally on display. He has seen you like this countless times before but he always reacts the same way: enamoured with every part of your body. He wants to taste everything he can, he wants to drink from you until you beg him to stop.

And that's what he does.

Flat tongue travels from your hole to right under your clit, repeatedly, during a few tortuous seconds that feel like hours. Spreading you open with his thumbs, Franco keeps licking you there until you're the one whining and begging him to give you more. 

In response, you feel him smirk between your legs.

“You want more, huh?”

“Please. Fran, por favor.”

He chuckles.

“Qué putita que sos.”

You want to answer but nothing comes out of your mouth. Nothing but a high pitched moan when his lips finally lick your clit. Before you can even process what's happening, he's suckling on your bundle of nerves like it is the most delicious thing he's ever had the pleasure to taste. When your hands take a handful of his hair and tug at it softly, deep moans sound on the back of his throat and the vibrations rumble through your entire body, making your back arch in pleasure.

There's nothing better than this. His mouth on you, kissing, licking, making sounds that would make even the boldest of men blush. He eats you out like his life depends on it, ignoring the need for air in his lungs because all the oxygen he needs is in you, in your skin, in the very taste of you. He drinks from your juices as if they are the sweetest ambrosia, giving him life, giving him everything he needs. Nothing else, no one else but you.

You keep moaning his name louder and louder, not caring if others are listening. You'll deal with that later, but right now there's nothing in this world that could make you stop from letting him know how you feel.

“So good…” you moan. “You make me feel so good, baby.” 

He moans as well. Hips rocking against the bed cover, unconsciously looking for release. Your words are music to him, because all he wants is to make you feel so good that you forget everything else. Everything else but him. 

“You're soaked.” He groans after gathering your arousal on his tongue and then swallowing it. “Is this because of me, amor?”

Once again, you want to answer but his actions interrupt you. This time, your words get stuck in your throat by two of his long fingers entering you. Carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the only thing you can feel is the immense pleasure spreading all over your body, legs shaking slightly with the feeling of his fingers starting to move inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit again, suckling with need. 

You moan his name like a mantra, both hands gripping his hair as your hips start to move almost involuntarily, rubbing yourself on his face as you look for your own release. He doesn't protest for a second, in fact, he grabs your ass in his hands to move you closer to his face and now it's impossible to part away from him, tongue and lips torturing your puffy clit as you cry out in pleasure. 

And then he does something that he's never done before.

His teeth grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves ever so slightly and that sends you to the edge. You have no time to react because soon entire galaxies are exploding behind your closed eyes. Some sort of electricity makes your body tremble as you cum on his tongue, and for a moment you feel like you are touching the sky with your hands. Seconds that feel like an eternity, you want to feel like this for the rest of your life. 

When you come back from some wonderful place you've never been before, you find yourself still laying on the bed, but this time Franco's on top of you. He's waiting for you to recover, only caressing your sides with his hands and leaving short kisses on your collarbone and chest. 

He knows you're back when you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair. 

“You okay?” He asks. You nod in response, a content smile on your lips. “Need you to use your words, baby.”

“I'm fine.” You answer. “Better than ever.”

He purrs like a kitten when your hands travel down his back, caressing his soft skin for a few moments. Then you remember that you’re the only one that has had an orgasm tonight, the realisationg making you feel incredibly guilty. Part of loving him is taking care of him as much as he does with you. That’s why it feels wrong, leaving him like this.

Your gaze finds his. He’s hovering over you now, one arm supporting his own weight as the other is in your face, fingertips brushing against your cheek and jaw. His big, pretty eyes are looking at you as if he’s trying to decipher you, and soon he does. It scares you sometimes, how easily he can read your thoughts by the expression on your face. 

“You don’t have to, you know?” He mutters. 

You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. 

“Of course I have to,” you object. “Because I love you.”

Franco smiles as you sit and motion to him to now lay on his back. He complies, never denying anything to you. 

Soon you’re kissing him again but this time you’re the one on top, legs on both sides of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth are intoxicating and, trying to coax more out of him, you take your hands to the waistband of his boxer and pull them down, just as he did with your underwear before. 

You wish you could take your time with him but you know that he won’t last long. His cock is impossibly hard, precum dripping out of the angry red tip. That’s why his reaction when you touch him doesn't surprise you; he’s at the edge and it won’t take much time for him to come undone in your arms.

“Amor…” he moans as you stroke him, spreading his juices all over his beautiful dick. You know what he wants. He’s trying to tell you that he can’t wait any longer, that all he wants is to feel you. 

So you comply. 

Both of you moan the exact moment he enters you, hard cock stretching you out in such a delicious way that has you closing your eyes tight. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, filling you completely. 

Your name leaves his lips in a plea that makes you move in no time. The friction coaxing more sounds out of the both of you. He whispers sentences that are never finished, words both in English and Spanish that have no coherence. He’s so lost in the bliss of having your sweet cunt wrapped around him that can barely speak properly. 

“You look so beautiful like this…” he manages to say, the phrase interrupted many times by his own moans. “Riding my cock… so, so good…”

In response you move faster. You can feel him inside of you, twitching with the need of release that will soon arrive. His grip on your waist tightens as you ride him faster and faster each time, breasts bouncing with your moves and that, too, sends him over the edge. 

“Fran…” you moan, your eyes pleading. “Come on, baby. Fill me up.”

Those words and your walls hugging his dick with such intensity are enough to make him cum. He reaches his orgasm in seconds, warm seed spilling deep inside of you and triggering your own climax, which is shorter than the previous one but even more intense.

You keep moving for a few seconds, milking his cock a little more. When you start feeling him going soft you decide to take him out of you, hearing him moan one more time as he watches his own semen dripping out of you. 

The way he looks after he has an orgasm is one of the most gorgeous things you’ve seen in your life. Hair dishevelled, skin glistening with sweat and pretty eyes full of satisfaction, he’s drunk in love and adoration for you and you love it. You love seeing him like this, knowing that you’re the reason behind it all. 

“You’re perfect.” you whisper to him, your lips hovering over his. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Franco smiles as his right hand comes up to caress your hair lovingly. Now, after the intensity of the love-making, both of you long for your lover’s touch in a more innocent way, in a way that can soothe all the aches. 

You stay like that, resting in each other’s arms, for what it feels like hours. After a while and starting to feel a little sleepy, you sit up on the bed. He looks in your direction, surprised and almost offended with you for pulling away from him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“We need to take a shower, come on.” 

You try to get off the bed, but his strong arm is around you in an instant, taking you back to his side. You giggle as he holds you tight and starts biting at your neck.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says. “You’re staying here with me forever.”

“But we can’t!” You laugh again. “We need to have a shower and eat something.”

“No, no.” This time his tone is more serious. His hands are both on your cheeks, softly making you look at him in the eyes. “You are the only thing I need.” 

For a second you want to scold him for not taking his own well being seriously, but then a smile appears on your face, leaving the previous frown behind, because now you realise that you feel the same way.

.

taglist: @bicchaan @amz824 @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

[cheol13wh0r3]

𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭!𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼!

w/c; 0.9k

Warnings: 18+, established relationships, lingerie, spanking, voice exhibitionism (?), choking, (Minors DNI - I am not responsible for the media you consume)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Boyfriend!Seungcheol who lets you wear whatever you want ! He can fight. Wanna wear a short dress to the club? Okay! Wanna wear a cute miniskirt that barely covers your ass? You got it!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Because he knows that at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours! So why would he get jealous anyways? So when he sees a guy looking at your ass a little too much in that miniskirt, why not let him hear him fuck you while the guy listens?

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “Cheol~! Ah-!” He thrusts roughly in your pussy, “You like that yeah? You like someone hearing you being fucked yeah?” You clench at the dirty words he whispers in your ears. You try to cover your mouth with your hands but he takes your hands off. “Oh? Now you want to cover your moans? Oh no baby, want him to hear how good I’m fucking you, yeah?”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Boyfriend!Seungcheol who compliments you every single day, any moment he can ! Your feeling ugly? Unworthy? Say no more!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ He will make sure that by the end of the night, you loved yourself.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ So when he made you stand naked in front of a mirror and praise yourself, who were you to deny him?

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “A-ah..cheol..” his hands roamed your body, one of his hands settling on your hips, weighing you down–while he sits behind you. Kissing any area his lips can touch, “Hm.. go on babe, c’mon, say it. I'm waiting.” His words were final, its either you would say it or he wouldn't fuck you until you did. You gulped, “I..I am the prettiest girl that exists and that other people's opinions of me..don't matter..” His eyes pierced through you, waiting for you to keep complimenting yourself. “Go on, you can do it, yeah?” Your voice wavered, “I..I am enough, I..” Your eyes looked down, but his other hand reached out for your hand and held it. You felt him pecking kisses in the sides of your hip, “Shh..It's okay yeah? I’m here, no one's gonna judge you okay?” He whispered silently. His words grounded you, you looked back up to see him staring at you encouragingly. “And..I, I don't need to prove my worth to other people..” He smiled warmly at you. “Goodjob, baby.” He stood up, and made you face him, he kissed you passionately. “Time to give you a reward, yeah?”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Boyfriend! Seungcheol who immediately agrees if you wanna try out anything new in the bedroom. Wanna try leashing? Consider it done! Wanna try pegging? Okay!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ So when you suggested that you wanted to try choking? Say less! He's already preparing you to take his cock, his large hands linger dangerously close to your neck, and before you know it he's already sliding inside of you. Fucking you roughly, and teasing you about choking you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “A-ah~! C-Cheollie! S-slow ah-!” He groans as you clench around him, you back arching with how good he's fucking you. His hands wrap around your neck, lingering there as he decides to test it first, choking you lightly. He feels you go tighter around him. “Fuck–you like that don't you baby?”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Boyfriend Seungcheol who doesn't hesitate to discipline you–doesn't tolerate being disrespected

ˋ°•*⁀➷ So what better way to discipline you than to have you bended over his lap, ass facing him--red, sore and swollen?

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “A-ah! C-Cheol-! C-Can't anymore..” You whine as he brings his hand down again on your ass. “Hm? Really?” His hand soothes the area he just hit. “Then maybe you shouldn't have acted like a slut at the event then, huh.” His hands spank your ass again, your eyes were getting wet with the amount of times he spanked it. “How times did I spank you now?” You whimpered before answering, “F-Fifteen..” He seemed to be lost in thought, thinking if he should spank you more or if you’ve had enough. “P-please cheol.. I-I won't do it again..” He looks down on you and sighs, he lifts you up and puts you in his lap. He kisses you and wipes the tears, he kisses your shoulders and sighs. “Let's get you cleanned up yeah?” You nod quickly and let him lift you up to take you to the bathroom.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Boyfriend!Seungcheol who buys you anything you ask for ! You want that bag? Done, You want to vacation in the alps? He's already booking a ticket !

ˋ°•*⁀➷ So when he sees you eyeing that lingerie, he wastes no time buying it so that he can fuck you in it !

ˋ°•*⁀➷ When you walk in the room after you just came back from work, you were shocked when you see the lingerie you eyed in the store yesterday displayed on your bed with a note that says; “Don't forget to wear it for me tonight ;)” You blush at what the note he left was hinting. You stared back at the lingerie, it looked like it was taunting you. ‘C’mon wear me !! Don't be shy !’ You sighed and caved. As you wore the lingerie, you looked back at your phone. 7:08 PM, it was still 2 hours before Seungcheol would come home.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ You decided if you wanted to send him how it looks on you, weighing out the pros and cons. In the end you did and closed you phone as you grabbed one of Seungcheol’s shirt. His shirt engulfing you, as you went outside the room and decided what you wanted to have for dinner. After making dinner, you looked back at the time it was still only 8:53 AM so, decided to check the message you sent earlier. When you opened the message, you were bombarded with a few threats detailing how hard he's gonna fuck you when he comes home.

[allfearstofallto]

"Tell Me You Love Me,"

Yandere! Male x Fem! Reader

FT: Childe and Scaramouche

TW: yandere, forced married au, violence, mentions of punishments (rice kneeling and starvation)

Childe

With your eyebrows knitted together and furrowed, lips pressed together in a tight smile and cheeks just ever so slightly puffed out, this is when Childe found you the cutest. Your smile was nice and he had an extra special place in his heart for the way you looked as you sobbed, but nothing could ever top your pout. It was to the point where he'd do things to entice it out of you, intentionally teasing you to see you puff up in that oh so adorable anger.

His cold, thin finger reached out and gently poked the soft cushion of your cheek, sinking into the plumpness of your face. Even when you slapped his hand away, he couldn't help, but to swoon at how cute you were. You couldn't harm him, not with those weak little punches, but you sure could try. And he absolutely loved watching you try. You seldom touched him of your own accord, so what was the harm in enticing you to do so? 

“I'm not in the mood to deal with you, Ajax,” You muttered, voice barely above a whisper. You spat his name like it was filthy, even crossing your arms afterwards as if to show you were deathly serious. He knew that you were, you had every right to be, yet he still sat next to you, so close his thigh pressed against yours. 

He placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest in an unwanted embrace. It was a move that earned him a slap across the face from you. A painful one at that. Not unbearable of course, more akin to a cat scratch. Yes the cat hurt you, but who could stay mad at such a cute animal?  You on the other hand, he could see you holding your tingling palm, trying to hide the pain you were feeling. You were able to hit him because he let you, but an untrained fighter such as yourself was no match for a harbinger.

“Now look what you've done,” he could feel his cheek growing a bit hot from the strike, “You've gone and hurt the both of us.”

You shot him a glare, a very harsh one. If looks could kill he would've died on the spot. But he was immune to your gaze. More than immune to it actually, he reveled in the fact that you looked at him that way. That your pretty face could make such an awful expression. That the hatred you felt for him, causes your features to contort into something almost ugly, but beautiful to him.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such a liar!” You raised your trembling voice, eyes welling with tears. Watching you go from anger to falling apart at the seams. He was the only person who could make you feel this way and it made him feel a sense of pride.

“What'd I lie about?” He teased. He looked up with a finger pressed against his chin, playfully beginning to ponder. If your hand wasn't already aching from the slap, you would've punched him, right in his smug little face.

“You said I could go,” you words were strained through tears that wouldn't stop cascading down your face, “I did everything you told me to. You promised!”

He snapped his fingers in recognition, “Oh! That's it! You wished to go to the lantern rite!”

The sight of him pretending was making you even more angry. But you couldn't let it boil over any more. Childe would only allow so much before he started to get upset, finally showing you how gentle he was being with you before. Few people even got the chance to place hands on him and live.

“You said I could go,” you repeated again slowly. 

And he did. You slaved away, doting on him like the perfect wife. Doing everything he wanted. You were at his beck and call, acting on his every whim. Just for the chance to touch the soil of Liyue again, to smell the air, to taste the food…to see your family. They went to the lantern rite every year, and you hoped that that tradition didn't end just because you'd vanished. All you needed was a glimpse of their faces, no talking necessary. Even though you knew they'd want to see you, the selfish part of you was okay with them thinking you were dead or gone for good. That way they wouldn't risk butting heads with the Fatui, or worse, actually managing to meet with Childe.

“I was hoping you'd forgotten about that,” Childe spoke, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

You merely scoffed. You wouldn't be that nice to him without incentive. Yet after the initial agreement, the trip was never planned, luggage wasn't packed, carriages weren't called. As the days grew more and more near, you worried about the long trek to Liyue from Snezhnaya. You'd miss the Rite if you left too late, yet there was no urgency on his side of the deal.

He hummed for a moment, thinking with that face you hated so much. It meant he had more up his sleeve. You knew better than to trust a harbinger to withhold their side of the bargain, but like an idiot you still trusted him.

“I have one more request,” he began.

“That's not what we agreed on!” 

“Then I guess you just don't want to go?” 

You crossed your arms in surrender. There was that pout that he loved so much. Those puffed up cheeks and furrowed brows. He could eat you up with how cute you were, practically begging for his attention.

“It's easy, I promise,” he leaned as close to you as he could get and you resisted the urge to slap him again, “Just tell me you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that this was where he was going with it. He always asked you to do it and you always refused. You didn't love him. You hardly even liked him. You despised him actually. Found him disgusting and deplorable. He was less than human in your eyes, more like filth under your feet. But your love for your family outweighed your hatred for him.

“I love you,” you said so monotone, you almost sounded like a robot. Despite your lack of emotion, his face seemed to light up with glee.

“Again,”

“That's not what we agreed-”

He cut you off before you could finish the thought, “Again.”

“I love you,”

“Say my name too,” his voice was breathy, hurried even. You'd never seen his face such a deep shade of red before. It didn't even cross your mind that the Ajax that teased you so much, the Ajax that forced you into a marriage and so many other things, was able to blush. He hushed you again before you could open your mouth in protest, “Say my real name.”

You let out a sigh, “I love you, Ajax.”

His smirk was disgusting as he sat next to you in glee, like the words were sinking into his heart. Childe just sat there, riding the high of feeling your non-existent love before he spoke again calmly.

“I'll have the carriage packed tonight, we leave in the morning,”

Scaramouche

You are Scaramouche's life blood. Truly what keeps him going. His heart which ticks instead of beats, ticks for you, his cold body, warms for you. Although, he'd never admit something as embarrassing as that. Nor would he tell you that he longs for your presence at his side constantly. That he rushes through his assignments, while being noticeably irritable and unapproachable, just so he can make it home to you. Where he'll pretend that he's not head over heels in love with you, and scoffs at your every word. Ignoring you, while simultaneously sticking to you like glue, even with your protests.

He watches couples as they smother each other with affection, kissing each other as if nothing else matters, embracing one another like they're physically unable to tear themselves apart, and he feels something so new to him. Jealousy? No. It's more akin to envy. He wants to do those things and maybe even more. He wants to be the obnoxious couple who can't seem to get their hands off of each other, he wants you to feel the withdrawal from his touch, as he feels from yours.

These are all hopeful thoughts, weary dreams even. He can force you to pretend, but he can't force the feelings. Even if he tells you to look happy when he touches you, there's a lack of light in your eyes that he can't even punish away. You'll never truly feel the way he wants you to. Not now, at least. But there's a wishful part inside of him that claws at his chest, hoping that someday you'll develop those feelings. As he watches you across the parlor, your focus more on the calligraphy that he told you to do than anything else, he knows that that day won't be soon.

You look so beautiful while trying to perfect the brush strokes. Ethereal even. Your skin glows under warm candle light, and even though you try to appear emotionless in front of him, the face you make when you concentrate always finds its way out.

“I'll be leaving on a mission soon,” he finally says into the silence.

You raised your head from your work, looking him in the eye before you speak. You truly are obedient, just as he trained you to be.

“Safe travels, my Lord,” you reply with that saccharine sweet voice, but he knows there's no meaning behind it. No compassion, no joy, no hope. You'd be happy if he died out there, still feeling the same indifference towards him that you do right now. It'd actually make you happier.

His mind shifts back to those couples he'd always see, the ones that were stuck to each other like glue. They'd beg and cry for the other not to leave, holding their hands to pull their lover back in a display of desperation for their time. Yet here you sat. Indifferent. Uncaring. Unloving.

“Don't you have anything else to say to me?” He questioned while that part of him that was still holding on to hope was fighting its way out. If you just told him to stay he would. If you told him that you loved him, he'd come home even quicker. He'd be more brutal, just for the chance to slip into your embrace. Yet only confusion met his question.

“I'll see you soon?” Words which were supposed to be spoken as a gesture of love, were coming out as a question. You didn't want to see him soon, nor did you wish for him to travel safely. Your lack of care has him seething, but only his regular, nonchalant demeanor showed on his face.

“Would you rather kneel on rice or go five days without food?”

Your head shot up when you heard his question, his voice cold and serious. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly, you wondered if he could hear it. He didn't have to to know how tense you were at the idea of the punishments, he could see it in your expression. Your look of indifference was quickly changed to fear, large doe eyes threatening to fill with tears.

“Neither, my Lord,” you stammered out, “I don't think I've done anything worthy of punishment.”

And you hadn't. You’d done everything he told you to, exactly the way he wanted you to. Yet his ego and constant need for more of you, to claim you as his entirely, to swallow you whole, it made him angry. He'd given you a better life than you'd ever had before, he'd give you anything you wished for if you'd just open your pretty little mouth to ask, and all he wanted in return was your affection. Your attention. Your love.

“I'll ask you again, even though you know I hate repeating myself,” his red framed eyes glared down at you. Even at his short stature, he suddenly felt mountain tall, dwarfing above you in a way that made you want to sink into yourself, “I'll be leaving on a mission soon, do you have anything to say to me?”

You gulped down your saliva, feeling the way you had to force it down your throat as more pooled in your mouth, “Safe….safe travels, my Lord,” you stuttered. It was the same thing you always said, the same thing you were told to say. He left on trips often, but the script never changed. You were to wish him safe travels and see him off at the door. Yet here you stood before him, a quivering mess as he glared down at you, growing angrier at what was presumably the wrong answer.

“You must want to be punished,” he hummed while looking disinterested.

The pain of rice digging into your knees or the hunger pains of starvation, they were both punishments you knew well. Neither was one you wanted to experience again. After such hard work to act the way he wanted you to, you'd gone a long time without being punished. But the way he was looking at you struck fear in your head, your hands trembled as you desperately began to plead.

“I don't understand, my lord, please tell me what I'm doing wrong,”

“You really are stupid,” he scoffed, but there was a flush forming in his face as he realized just how overboard he was going for this one little thing. Something he'd never asked for before. But the thought was eating away at him, the hope was clawing out of his body. Bashfully, he looked down at the floor, “Tell me that you love me…and that you'll miss me while I'm gone.”

Your tears were dried quickly and you slowed your labored breathing. A bit of anger was bubbling in the pit of your stomach, anger at the fact that was going to punish you over something so miniscule, anger you hadn't felt towards him since the very beginning of this all. Since the day he told you that you were going to be his wife, but it wasn't a question, it was an order. Your very first order.

“I love you, my lord. I'll miss you so very much while you're gone,” you wondered if he wanted a performance. You did your best to make the words sound genuine, despite the way you detested him and his finicky personality.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, his voice sounding almost hopeful. In his heart of hearts he knew it wasn't true, but that didn't stop the excitement from growing.

“Of course, my Lord,” you lied. It was a good lie though, seeing as it earned you a subtle smile upon his lips.

“I'll bring you back a gift from Mondstadt, for being so good recently” he whispered while lightly patting your head. But the enticing idea of a gift wasn't even enough to pull you from your fear. You'd dodged a bullet, but there were more to come.

[herasversion]

''Fake'' boyfriend

Max verstappen x Female reader

Summary: You are being botherd by a guy who can't take a hint after you're friends left you behind. Until you're saved by the one and only Max Verstappen.

A/N: Contains smut, female reader no use of y/n.

masterlist

You don't know how you are supposed to feel about the situation you are in. I mean, how are you supposed to feel in this situation? The situation in which you are being held by an F1 world champion, only because a guy couldn't take a hint in Jimmy's.

There are moments in life when you really regret becoming friends with the quiet Australian guy at your boarding school. Like right now, as you look around in panic for said quiet Australian friend who brought you here.

Suddenly, you're shaken out of your thoughts of murdering your best friend when you feel a hand moving lower down your back as you're being pulled into a chest. You freeze because this isn't a random chest; this is the chest of Formula 1 world champion Max Verstappen.

Max, probably sensing you freeze, mutters, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure that guy won't get close anymore." You're not really worried about that guy anymore; after all, Max really scared the crap out of him. Although you're still offended, you were just making your way from Lilly and Oscar to get a drink when you were rudely interrupted by one of the ugliest guys you have ever seen who asked you to dance.

When you told him you didn't want to dance the first and second time, he didn't listen. When you told him the third time that he was ugly and rude, he still didn't listen and grabbed your arm. Just as you were about to either give him the biggest earful he ever heard or punch him in the face, you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and sneaking up under your breast. You heard an angry voice with a Dutch accent saying, "Is there a reason you're holding her like that?" As the ugly guy was muttering about how he didn't know I was his and he wouldn't touch somebody else's girl, he was interrupted again by Max, angrier than before, "How about you don't touch any girl here, especially not my girl, alright pal?"

After he said that, he moved his arm to the small of your back and guided you to the bar. "You were getting a drink, right?" he says. You look up at him and mutter the worst, most stupid response, "Yes… yes, I was getting a drink because I got thirsty. Thanks for helping me, I guess." You guess what a stupid response, although maybe it wasn't the worst response on the planet as Max is looking down at you with a cute smile (not that his smile normally isn't cute).

Just as you are about to embarrass yourself further, the bartender interrupts you guys by asking you what you would like to drink. You order a Sex on the Beach, and Max orders a Red Bull vodka. Shocker, right? Apparently, your look says enough as Max lowers his head and whispers in your ear, "Shocker, right? I like Red Bull."

You giggle, and who still giggles as Max guides you again with his hand on your back to the VIP lounge where you were sat before with Oscar and Lilly, who are now gone. Max notices you pause and asks, "What's wrong?" You move on your tiptoes and say, "I don't see Oscar and Lilly here anymore. They were waiting for me." Max looks around and shrugs and guides you further until you're in the VIP lounge and says, "Don't worry, sweetheart. You can stay with me until they're back."

And that is how you ended up in this situation, with you being pulled into Max Verstappen's chest as you explain to him that you aren't really worried about that ugly guy anymore. He scoffs and says, "You're still looking pretty tense, sweetheart. Is there something else?" Alright, panic, big problem. There is something else, but you can't just say, "Yes, there is something else. I find you really hot." Apparently, you waited too long with answering as he looks really worried now, so you thank the Lord for your quick thinking skills as you murmur to him, "I'm worried about Oscar and Lilly."

Max is quick to interrupt by saying, "Don't worry, Oscar's a big guy. He can take care of himself, and you worrying won't help him, sweetheart. Relax and have fun. Come on, let's dance." And with that, you're being pulled to the dance floor.

And the next thing you know, you're having fun dancing with your arms around Max Verstappen's neck and his hands on your ass to the beat of "Sweet Caroline." How is this your life? Maybe making friends with the quiet Australian guy isn't all too bad. Just as you are getting in the happy, flirty mood, you're suddenly interrupted by blinding white light and a voice saying that Jimmy's is closing.

You grab your phone and realize it's empty and look at Max, who also has his phone in hand. He sees you looking at him and mutters, "I didn't realize it was already so late. Let's find Lilly and Oscar for you, alright, sweetheart."

You nod, and you and Max move outside. He gives his phone to call Oscar and Lilly. You smile at him until you're not smiling anymore and Max is looking worried as, after 15 minutes, Oscar still hasn't picked up his phone.

"I can also give you a ride to your hotel," Max sweetly offers as you bring the bad news to him. "I am not staying at a hotel. I am staying at Oscar's place," you say apologetically to Max. "You can stay at my place. I have enough room, schat."

And that is how you end up in a cab, sitting next to Max Verstappen, who has his hand on your thigh on the way to his apartment. "What does it mean?" you ask. "What does what mean?" Max asks. "Schat," you say. Max turns red at that. "What does it mean?" you tease. "Alright, it means 'sweetheart' in Dutch, alright," Max says.

Which you find adorable, apparently adorable enough you make the first move. And here you are making out with Max Verstappen in the back of a cab. Well, you're making out until the fake coughing of the cab driver interrupts you guys, and you both turn scarlet as you arrive at Max's apartment.

And that's how you end up in the most awkward moment of your life, standing in the flat, petting his cats while Max is fixing you a glass of water. "So," Max awkwardly interrupts you as he gives you the glass of water. "Uhh alright, schat, this is my bedroom. You can stay here, and I'll sleep on the couch."

"No, I'll take the couch," you say. "No, I will take the couch," Max says. "Then we will both take the bed," you say with finality in your tone. "Fine," Max says. And just like that, you're both standing in the doorway of Max's bedroom, breathing hard.

Well, you're standing there until Max jumps at you, and you're making out again. You're pulling his shirt over his head and kissing down his chest as he tries to unbutton your dress. You help him with the last button as he kisses your breasts, and you finally reach the edge of the bed and both fall on it.

Max quickly pulls his pants down and settles at your waist, kissing your stomach while he pulls your panties down. He stops what he is doing and looks at your pussy. You suddenly look up at him worried, until you see him smirk, and he starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Just like that, you feel your first orgasm of the night coming up, at which you let out the loudest moan of your life. Max moves up, kisses you again, and pulls his underwear down. And Jesus, this man has it all because that is not a small dick.

It feels twice as big inside, and Max waits until you've adjusted and starts to move. And you would be embarrassed if it didn't feel this good as your second orgasm comes up. Max notices it and starts to move faster until you come, and he helps you ride out your orgasm.

As you catch your breath, you notice that Max didn't come yet and decide to change positions so that you're riding him. You kiss his neck, and you quickly hear his breath getting shorter and feel his orgasm building up. You kiss him as he rides out his orgasm.

With that, the last energy leaves your body, and you land on top of him, catching your breath. After a few minutes, you feel him move. "Where are you going?" you ask worriedly. "Just getting something to clean you up, schat," Max says. You smile at him as he walks into the bathroom, grab your phone from the floor, and put it on the charger. Max comes back, cleans you up, gives you a shirt of his to wear to sleep in, and pulls you back on top of him.

You snuggle closer into your warm pillow as you get woken up by a few sun rays coming through the window. You suddenly stop as you feel an arm pulling you closer and quickly look up at the face of Max Verstappen, who leans in, kisses you, and says, "Good morning, schat. Your phone has been blowing up."

You sigh and grab your phone, which has been blown up by one Oscar Piastri, asking if you've had a good night with Max and questioning if his plan worked. You know what, it was a mistake making friends with the quiet Australian kid.

[jjkamochoso]

Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries, ivs, death

Part two with fluff can be found here!

It looked to be the end of the line for you. Your Defense Force suit had long overheated, leaving you exhausted and vulnerable in your solo fight against the kaiju. The oversized monster saw how weak you were, becoming even more excited at the prospect of devouring yet another human. You kept shooting its snarling face in your desperation, round after round bouncing off its armored body since you wielded no extra power. The kaiju’s tail whipped around in a flash, hitting your slow moving body in the abdomen and making your gun fly from your grip. You were now splayed on the ground, unable to run and barely able to breathe. You didn’t want to give up but things were utterly hopeless. Your communications had been down the entire time of your 1 on 1 skirmish and your team had no idea where you were, you having been separated from them for far too long at that point. The kaiju strolled over to you, an aura of bloodlust surrounding it as it snatched you up in its jaw. You had no fight left in you—you just hoped your head would go first before all your bones were snapped.

“No more dinner for you tonight, you ugly shit.”

Was that… Soshiro? He came for you? You heard the faint unsheathing of swords as your eyes closed, ready to pass out. In its anger at being disrupted, the kaiju dropped you from its mouth and you tumbled onto the asphalt. The last thing you saw was a blur of violet hair and a whole lot of kaiju blood.

It was almost totally quiet when you came to again, save for the wheezing of your labored breaths. The sun was hanging high in the hazy sky and the weather was perfect--not too hot, not chilly at all. You wondered what Soshiro was up to. Was he still fighting the kaiju? You smiled at the thought. He was always so brave, the first one to jump into action. The relief you felt when he showed up to save you was insurmountable, though you probably weren't going to survive with your extensive injuries if you didn't see a doctor soon. What you wouldn't give to see his face again for the last time. No matter, the memories that you had together were more than enough for you. Maybe it was better this way. You couldn't imagine him setting eyes on your condition right now, you didn't want to burden him with your death. You prayed to whatever spiritual guide to let you pass before someone found your body; there was no way you'd let him lecture you about being more careful as you died.

"Vice Captain! They're still alive!"

You sighed as much as your broken body would allow. With Kafka around, your peaceful death plans would have to wait.

"Y/n, stay with us. Don't fall asleep, okay?"

His kind voice, though loud, was a welcome sound. Even still, your eyes were struggling to stay open as your head lolled around, but now your body was being maneuvered by someone whose touch had become a familiar comfort--

"Soshiro," you muttered, opening your eyes to find bright purple irises boring into your own. "Did you kill it?"

"Kill it? He obliterated that thing!" exclaimed Kafka, excitedly gesticulating. "He was all, swoosh with the swords and the honju was like, ahhh! Don't dice me up! But Vice Captain was like too bad, you should've thought of that before putting your hands on my y/n-"

"That's enough, Hibino."

"Yes, sir. I'll just, uh... stand over there."

Kafka ran off without another word, leaving you in the arms of the man you loved most.

"You’re my knight in shining kaiju armor," you choked out, trying to get a laugh from Soshiro, but he wasn't having any of it as he patched up your external injuries the best he could with his field first aid kit.

"I almost lost you, y/n. You almost died because I was too slow."

"Soshiro, that's not..." The blood you coughed up mixed with the blood on Soshiro's uniform.

"I know this might be selfish of me, but I can't let you die because I can't live without you. I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it. I would do anything for you." He placed a large bandage on a cut on your face, letting his fingertips rest there for longer than necessary before getting back to the task at hand. "I remember you said all those years ago you would do anything for me, too. Would you please hang in there and survive this? For me? For… us?”

He was right, you did say that. It was about a year after you both joined the Defense Force. You were both underdogs and no one seemed to believe in you and your abilities, except for each other. You had bonded over being underestimated and swore to each other that you’d never leave one another behind, in anything. He very obviously made good on that promise today.

You coughed up more blood and you could see the worry and pain in Soshiro’s gaze as he looked upon you, lying in his arms like a broken doll. He so gently wiped away the tears that were falling down your cheeks.

“It-everything hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know, I know it does. But we’re gonna get you the help you need, okay?”

You didn’t respond, causing Soshiro’s heart to plummet.

“Y/n. No, no, no, you gotta wake up. C’mon, this isn’t funny,” he pleaded, tapping your face, but getting no response.

“Shit! Hibino!” he yelled, trying his best to stay composed. “We need medic right now! Y/n won’t wake up!”

“Coming right now, Vice Captain!”

Sure enough, a doctor came rushing over, immediately placing down a stretcher. Soshiro loaded your unmoving body onto the hard plastic and he couldn’t help but think of how fragile you looked. Normally you were such a bright light in his life and a formidable ally not easily defeated, but right now, you looked one step from death’s door. He and Kafka dropped you off in an ambulance, ivs immediately being pumped into your veins. As those doors closed, Soshiro getting one last look of the love of his life, he prayed to whoever would listen that the door hadn’t closed on the opportunity to tell you how he truly felt.

PART TWO

[artemiszy]

PRETTY THINGS | Gyutaro X Reader

Gyutaro x Oiran!Reader

"When an angel appears in the life of a boy who has been hurt his whole life."

WARNING. Violence, blood, minor character death, open ending. FEMALE READER

Gyutaro was an ugly child, from a young age he was able to recognize this. His sick mother who constantly tried to kill him before he could even leave her womb because he was an ugly child; the way citizens in the streets looked away in disgust in his presence and some threw stones at him because he was an ugly child.

And ugly children never have a good place in this world.

However, this could still be used to one's advantage. He began to use his appearance to mess with people, and he enjoyed seeing them afraid.

But he still recognized that he was an ugly child.

He still knew that no one but his little sister would look kindly on him; with pacience; and much less with love. And he had already accepted, everything was fine, he could continue surviving as a debt collector with attempts to at least be able to make Ume have something close to a dignified life.

If only they had been born into a higher hierarchy, maybe people wouldn't care that he was so despicable.

During another of his countless attempts to find something to survive, Gyutaro was once again mistreated. He received a black eye from a vendor who accused him of stealing eggs, something that was confirmed when the adult man shook the boy in poor condition and from his tattered kimono fell one of the eggs, which broke upon contact with the floor.

There were women in the distance laughing at the boy who, despite being beaten, would not release the eggs at all. It was his and Ume's dinner! They hadn't eaten in days!

— "Now... I'm going to teach you a lesson, you little shit!" — The furious man raised his fist again.

Falling to the ground, Gyutaro just waited for the next blow, something he was already used to, it wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But the next blow never came, instead he heard a voice.

— "Stop this!"

It was a soft and peaceful voice, despite being loud, something that caught the attention of the salesman who stopped beating the boy. When he looked at the owner of the voice, Gyutaro's mind stopped, seeing a girl as beautiful and charming as the jewels that he would never be able to even touch. She was the same age as Gyutaro, her silky (h/c) hair was loose and she wore a simple light lilac colored kimono.

— "Stop this!" — The girl walked towards them with firm (e/c) eyes. — "Look at his condition!"

— "He stole from me! That's what this little shit deserves!" — The salesman growled. — "Go away if you don't want to get beaten too!"

The young girl's eyes went over Gyutaro, who was on the floor panting with blood running down his nose, she seemed to understand his situation when analyzing his appearance. He was poor and those eggs could be a necessity to survive.

— "If that's so..." — She sighed and removed a bag from inside the sleeve of her kimono. — "They're just eggs... that should be enough." — She took two coins from the bag and threw them to the man.

— "Huh?!" — The man raised his eyebrow, grabbing the coins. — "What you—"

— "There's your payment! Now go away." — The girl looked at the adult angrily.

Without saying anything else, the man growled softly and just accepted the payment, leaving in silence. Gyutaro quickly looked at the eggs stored inside his kimono and they were still intact, he sighed with relief knowing that he wouldn't need to eat insects again to survive.

— "Everything is fine?" — One of the girl's hands reached out to him.

Her hands were delicate and small, having a great contrast when compared to Gyutaro's calloused and dirty hands.

He felt a little remorseful about holding the girl's hand in front of him, as if he would contaminate her. She was beautiful, god, she was so beautiful. Why was a pretty child like her worrying about an ugly child like him?

— "I... I can get up by myself..." — Gyutaro murmured, getting up with a little difficulty.

Gyutaro felt surprised when the girl's hands grabbed one of his arms to help him get up.

— "Why are you helping me?" — He held himself back so as not to appear so aggressive. — "Do you want something in return by any chance?" — He clicked his tongue. — "I can't give anything back...!"

— "Hm?" — Her big (e/c) eyes blinked. — "I don't want anything in return."

— "Then why did you help me?" — Gyutaro closed his fist tightly. — "I... I don't need charity!"

— "That man was hurting you a lot and intended to hurt you even more." — She replied, seriously. — "You couldn't find any means of survival with your broken limbs, don't you think?"

Gyutaro stopped for a moment, she was right.

— "Your lack of response only proves me right."

Seeing that he had no choice, he let out a sigh. — "Thank you..." — He lowered his head. — "I really didn't want my little sister to go hungry another night..."

The mention of his little sister seems to have surprised the girl. She quickly removed the small bag from before again and took out about six coins, placing them in Gyutaro's palm.

— "Use it to buy food." — She said, leaving Gyutaro surprised again.

— "Huh?!" — He widened his eyes. — "Why are you still helping me? If you want something, just say it at once!"

The girl snorted. — "I already answered you, I don't want anything in return!" — She clicked her tongue. — "You seem like the type of person who isn't used to acts of kindness."

She was right.

In silence, Gyutaro nodded.

The girl's face seemed sad but she looked at him kindly. A look he had never received before from anyone other than his sister.

She continued. — "My name is (Name)."

— "...Gyutaro."

— "I hope to see you around, Gyutaro-kun." — (Name) smiled and left waving.

Gyutaro remained in the same place, motionless and in complete silence, watching the beautiful girl's silhouette disappear from his sight. He put the coins in a pocket of his kimono and then looked back in the direction in which (Name) disappeared.

He wished he could see her again.

(...)

— "(Name)!" — A woman with a chubby face threw huge fabrics of different colors and prints on top of the girl. — "Clean it up!"

The girl just bowed and went to the back garden of the pleasure house so she could clean the kimono fabrics. Being an oiran's apprentice, she still had a lot to learn, and cleaning for her 'older sister' under the order of the lady of the house was one of them.

(Name) never bothered about it, except when Aimi-oiran yelled at her because of delays or other trivial matters that the apprentice never cared much to hear about.

One of those brief moments of reverie was when (Name) felt something not very hard hitting the back of her head as she rubbed the fabrics inside the bucket of water.

That is, at that exact moment.

(Name)'s eyes narrowed and she removed what hit her from the top of her head, seeing a small bag of coins. Still with the object in hand, the girl stood up and looked back over her shoulder, seeing Aimi-oiran standing under the engawa corridor, staring at the younger girl with a serious expression.

— "Stop what you're doing and go buy food!" — Demanded the oiran.

Aimi-oiran was wearing a pretty kimono, even though she was disheveled and it was still daylight. (Name) just nodded with a small bow and let another apprentice in the house finish her work with the sheets.

Outside, the district was busy as always, and (Name) was careful not to be robbed at that time of day.

The girl walked calmly towards the place where she knew she sold what Aimi-oiran liked to eat, looking around and having some glimpses of what was happening in the district during that moment; some sellers shouting, people talking and even fighting. There was also smoke from something that smelled good coming from somewhere.

In a more isolated area of ​​the district, where there were few people. (Name) caught the eye of a little girl not so far away, who seemed to flinch and look away quickly when she noticed the oiran apprentice saw her.

The little girl had white hair and blue eyes, wearing a tattered light pink kimono. She looked at the boy next to her who had his back to (Name) and started to pull his arm and say something.

What (Name) could hear because the girl didn't seem discreet at all.

— "Onii-chan, look! Is that the girl you talked about?" — The little girl shook her brother's arm as if she wanted to get his attention as quickly as possible.

— "Huh?" — The boy looked confused and looked over his shoulder at (Name), less than a second later he turned his full attention to his sister. — "UME!" — He shouted in a whisper, trying to silence his sister. — "Be quiet...!!!"

— "But look!" — The girl, Ume, got excited and pointed at (Name). — "She has the same beautiful (e/c) eyes you described!"

(Name) felt confused for a moment but was surprised when she realized that she knew that boy.

— "Huh? Gyutaro, is that you?" — She approached.

Gyutaro seemed to stiffen. Beside him, Ume perked up even more.

— "Are you (Name)?" — Ume practically jumped in front of her with an excited smile. — "Onii-chan couldn't stop talking about you!"

— "Ume!" — Gyutaro turned around with teeth grinding. — "I already told you to be quiet!"

— "He kept saying how a pretty girl appeared like an angel and— HMMF!"

Ume's speech was cut off when Gyutaro covered her mouth with one of his hands. Then looking at (Name) with his typical dead fish eyes, but he seemed pleasant when looking at the girl in front of him.

— "My bad..." — He said, Ume struggling furiously to take his hand away from her mouth, but to no avail. — "Sometimes my little sister can be a little silly..."

— "It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other." — (Name) gave a pleasant laugh. — "So... this is your little sister?"

Ume finally managed to take Gyutaro's hand away from her mouth, and looked at (Name) with an excited face.

— "I'm Ume! When onii-chan talked about you, I really got excited!"

— "You are adorable." — (Name) smiled and passed her hand on the top of Ume's head, who let out a happy laugh.

Gyutaro seemed happy to see the two together.

— "You are very beautiful! Are you an oiran?" — Ume asked.

— "Actually, I'm training to be one. Maybe next year I'll become one."

— "Cool!" — Ume became even more excited. — "I'm going to be one too, you know? Everyone says I'm very beautiful!"

— "Oh yes, you are." — (Name) nodded with a gentle smile on her face. — "Maybe you'll be my kamuro one day."

(Name)'s words seemed to cheer Ume up even more.

— "I liked her, onii-chan!" — Ume started shaking Gyutaro's arm once again while pointing at (Name). — "I liked her!"

— "Okay, okay, Ume!" — Gyutaro grumbled. — "I liked her too." — He accidentally let go, and the moment he turned away with a grunt, but his little sister could notice the blush on his face.

— "Onii-chan!" — The little girl's eyes widened and she laughed happily. — "You are in love?!"

— "What?! No! Ume, be quiet before I shove rocks in your mouth!"

But Ume just laughed, which caused soft giggles from (Name) as well.

(...)

As the months passed, Gyutaro would secretly show up to visit (Name), sometimes bringing Ume with him. Sometimes they would sneak out in the dead of night to wander the streets of the districts and get some interesting things, like enough coins to play at festivals.

Even after they both reached adolescence and (Name) finally became an oiran, which made access to her even more difficult. But even so, Gyutaro kept going to see her.

And during one fateful night, Gyutaro smelled blood while climbing outside to (Name)'s room.

Upon jumping into the room and putting his feet on the tatami, Gyutaro felt extremely uneasy when he didn't see (Name) just a faint light coming from the other side of the fusuma door. Cautiously, he followed, inwardly fearing what he might find.

The boy didn't feel surprised or scared when he saw a man's corpse sprawled on the mat with a pool of blood pooling in it. The guy appeared to be middle-aged and had a knife stuck in his throat, along with an expression of horror on his face, despite being already dead. Gyutaro had seen dead bodies all his life, one more wouldn't make a difference. But he still felt extremely uneasy when he saw a dead body in (Name)'s room.

With her back to the corpse and also to Gyutaro, closer to the wall, (Name) gently brushed her lips red in front of a mirror.

— "...(Name)?" — Gyutaro called her.

She took a while to respond, but when her voice came, she put the brush down on the table and spoke softly.

— "It's over."

— "What's over?" — Gyutaro approached, and noticed how (Name)'s bloody hand was shaking, despite her calm posture.

— "I killed this man. They will find out soon."

Gyutaro let out a tired sigh and bent down in front of (Name), making her turn towards him. — "Tell me what happened."

— "This man... he wanted to marry me." — (Name) informed.

Gyutaro felt relieved that the bastard was dead.

She continued. — "But... it got worse every night. He kept coming back and coming back, it was scaring me..." — She practically spat. — "And then... he tried to take me by force, when I refused once again."

— "(Name)..." — Gyutaro brushed away the strands of hair stuck to the girl's forehead, who was sweating coldly as she stared blankly at the corpse behind the boy. — "Why didn't you tell me? I could have dealt with this bastard on the streets!" — He grumbled.

(Name) let out a melancholic sigh. — "It wouldn't work... he was a samurai. I didn't want to put you in danger. But it's too late now. They'll come soon and discover the body, and I'll be killed for my crime."

Gyutaro's eyes widened in fierce fury.

— "That won't happen!" — He grabbed (Name)'s hands.

— "It's nothing to do!" — The oiran whimpered. — "Get out of here while there's still time. Bad things will happen to you if they find you here!"

But Gyutaro didn't move, instead, he pressed (Name)'s bloody hands against his own chest and walked closer, his gaze becoming determined, as if he had spent his entire life preparing to utter the words he was about to say. .

— "Then come with me."

(Name)'s wet eyes widened with furrowed eyebrows and a confused look on her face.

— "...Huh?"

— "Run away with me." — Gyutaro asked once again. — "Let's get out of here and never come back. With the money I got from collecting debts and you from your job as a courtesan, we could get out of here. Me, you and Ume."

(Name) remained silent, staring at Gyutaro without a certain expression for him to identify, perhaps just surprise.

— "(Name)... I love you." — Gyutaro finally let go, holding the girl's hands even more firmly against his chest. — "I love you and I have loved you since the day you appeared like an angel in my life, everyone has always judged me but not you. There is nothing I love more in this world than you and my sister, you two are everything to me. And that's why I I need to tell you this, even though you might not feel the same way."

Gyutaro considered himself ugly and repulsive, his whole life he was judged by other damned people and treated not even worthy of pity.

He expected (Name) to rip her hands out of his, slap him, and then scream and accuse him of killing that man. However, Gyutaro was surprised when that girl's delicate, blood-stained hands grabbed his face on either side and pulled him into a kiss.

A kiss that seems to have lasted an eternity, and Gyutaro would stay in it for another eternity if he could.

When the two separated, (Name) ran the thumb of her left hand across Gyutaro's cheekbone, wiping away a single, solitary tear that fell from his eye. The boy not even caring about the blood on his face.

Gyutaro stood up, holding the same hand that (Name) used to wipe away his tear.

— "I'll go down first, when I'm down there, you jump and I'll hold you, okay?"

This had been in my drafts for over a year, so why not?

[cvnt4him]

୨ cuddling kageyama tobio ৎ

Kageyama is the kind of guy to just completely expect you to read his mind. He doesn't like saying what he wants he thinks bc you're his you should just know.

He wouldn't be the type to yk do those dramatic sighs n shit, he'd more like just stare at you menacingly and shit. Literally staring daggers into the back of your head LOL. Then when you finally look at him he just looks you up n down.

"what...?"

"what do you mean 'what.'"

"I mean 'what' like what do you want, you're just fucking staring at me all scary n’ shit"

"YOU FUCKING DUMBASS."

"oh my gosh why are you yelling."

You two literally js squabble over nothing and you think it's just so cute help😭

In the end he turns around n pouts looking away from you all angry n shit w his little cute baby face oml I love him sm you literally have to drag his ass by his shirt to get him to you.

Once you finally give him what he wanted he just sighs deeply and closes his eyes, if you have boobs I feel like he's literally just touching n groping maybe even sucking chat. If not he just lies there holding you tightly and never letting you go.

"is this what you wanted?"

Tobio hums and shuts his eyes, a pout still lingering on his face. You kiss his forehead and roll your eyes, he blushes intensively, he just gets so flustered I've everything bc he's just that guy I suppose.

"how was I supposed to know you wanted to cuddle, you didn't tell me baby."

Kageyamas eyes shoot open, blush still present on his face, he just stared at you with furrowed brows and an annoyed look. You just laugh and he closes his eyes again, burying his face in your boobs if you have them or your neck.

In the end he's really happy bc he gets to cuddle you and hold you tightly while he can and he's just such a happy little guy. A slight grin is present on his face once he calms down fully. It's so cute because he isn't one to smile and if he does it's ugly as fuck. He only knows how to grin or smirk, and it always looks like he's telling you to 'eat shit' if he does.

But you love him and his ugly smile, he's just too cute to hate.

AN: this is love guys. I love him I want him I need him I heart him. He is my everything he is my air my oxygen I need him to live I am obsessed and absorbed I cannot live without him he is truly the exception the only exception and the only thing worthy of everything. He is perfect

This might be ooc but I really think he would act like this in a relationship, this or hes js clueless to everything. After a while I feel like he'd know what he'd want being with someone.

Oml I think he's the kind of guy to never get over his first love and in college he might do like hookups n shit but never like gfs/bfs/s/o's😦

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡

♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut

♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.

♡ Word Count: 3.2k

♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.

♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️

Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...

It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.

Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one. 

That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.

Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.

But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them. 

He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.

Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man. 

You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?

Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that. 

“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?

A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good. 

“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.

Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.

Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.”  Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process. 

Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.

“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.

“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it. 

In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.

The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.

Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?” 

Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.

“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”

You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.

He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.

“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.

Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”

If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”

The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about. 

“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”

Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.

They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.” 

You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you.  “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.

When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.

Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.

All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you. 

Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”

“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.

Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”

Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.

He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.

Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.

“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.” 

You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.” 

“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.

“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.” 

Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.

Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”

Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there. 

“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.

Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.

“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on. 

“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…” 

Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?” 

“The guy that I was…”

“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah.”

“Been here all night.”

“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.

What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.

[chosok-amo]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID NEVER THE BRIDE

“ . . . I was there too, satoru, — those summers belonged to me as much as they belonged to you, he was mine as much as he was yours.”

the downfall of your relationship after suguru geto went spiral.

⠀ ⠀⠀You heard about what happened to one of your lovers, Geto Suguru — what he did to the villagers, how he killed them en masse. You don't believe what Yaga says, you don't believe what the higher-ups scream at you — saying that the current Geto Suguru is a criminal and a murderer. You covered your ears so tightly that you didn't hear anything — not even Satoru's cries every night in the silence of the night.

⠀ ⠀⠀You ran, kept running and running, carrying your feet to Suguru. You have to see him, you have to hear everything from him. He should say that everything was just a misunderstanding and he didn't do anything and looking at you with his purple eyes, he should tell you that everything was just a misunderstanding — you hope. You keep running no matter your heart starts to deflate and constrict, you can't stop running, too afraid that if you stop then everything will come true. You don't care about the heat of the sun piercing your skin.

⠀ ⠀⠀You arrive at a temple that is familiar to you. Seeing the building makes it even more impossible to breathe. You pushed open the large wooden door with force. Your steps stopped when you saw a black-haired man standing not far from you with a gojo-kesa covering his tall body. You'd recognize that back anywhere, you'd recognize his scent anywhere.

⠀ ⠀⠀ Geto Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru turned around and he smiled when his eyes caught your figure. He smiled warmly until his eyes formed a thin curve. He opened his arms wide, welcoming you with all his heart. You didn't have a second thought to run up to him and jump into his arms— so hard that his body stumbled back a little and like honey, he chuckled sweetly. “Easy there, princess,” he whispered into your hair, so very softly. One hand hugged your back while the other stroked your hair.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru closed his eyes and took a deep breath— trying to fill his lungs with your scent. Maybe this was the last time he could hold you this close, he knew. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his nose there. He feels short of breath, but he feels like he still has to breathe, keep taking in breaths until all he can think about is your scent, you. He forced his body to remember your smell, every inch of his body, so he wouldn't forget. Hopefully, if he doesn't have you by his side anymore, he can still feel your scent, he has to remember your scent. So that he is fine being away from you. So that he doesn't run towards you when he feels he can no longer smell your scent.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru pulled his face away from you as he listened to the sad sounds that came out of your sweet mouth. Your stomach and his stomach were still touching beneath the cloth you were wearing when he lifted your lowered face— too sad to look at him. Suguru looked at your face and he realized a few things. He could see the eye bags hanging ugly under your beautiful eyes, there were slight wrinkles on your forehead, and you looked very, very tired. And he couldn't deny your rosy cheeks were wet with tears that didn't seem to stop.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Oh, my love,” he whispered.

⠀ ⠀⠀He felt his heart break when he saw you pull your lips straight, letting out a sob that was forcing its way out, for him to hear. Suguru stroked your wet cheeks with his thumb. “You left, I — I was gone for one day and.. and you're not there, you— why?— how?” you stammered, still reluctant to look at the man in front of you. Suguru chuckled, he couldn't help it, you looked so cute right now. Hearing the chuckle of the man in front of you made you suddenly raise your head, looking at him. “That's not funny!” you said and hit Suguru's arm which made the man laugh again.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I'm sorry, my love, you just look so cute right now,” he said, smiling and hugging you again. You hugged his waist and pressed your cheek against his chest. “They called you a criminal and you are a mass murderer who killed a whole village,” you said which made Suguru smile bitterly and sigh softly. He kissed her head for a long time before saying, “I'm sorry, my love, I'm doing a bad thing,” he said quietly. Your tears broke even more as you began to be forced to accept that everything was true and Suguru was a criminal now. So you buried your face back into his neck, crying loudly.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru tightened his arms around your small body and pressed his cheek against your head. He lets you cry your heart out. That's all he usually does. “I'm so sorry,” Suguru whispered. It hurt him, hearing how sad your crying sounded. It made him break into pieces, knowing your heartbroken cries were now he is the cause. But again, he couldn't do anything. “Why?” You looked at him with your wet face and red eyes. Suguru cupped one of your cheeks while one of his hands still hugged your waist.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I'm sorry, my love, I just can't wear a heartfelt smile in this world, not anymore,” he said— shaking his head slowly and smiling faintly. “You don't have to, just talk to me, to Satoru, come back to us, I'll listen, we'll listen,” you say, almost pleading. “Stop this, and come back, let's run away and live together, I'll convince Satoru. Let's get out of this world, we can live at the beach house far away from here and make a family, and have cats, like you always wanted, hm?” You smiled, even though your eyes continued to shed tears. You took forceful steps to get closer as if there was some distance you still had to cover from your body which was already attached to Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru was silent.

⠀ ⠀⠀Oh, how he always dreamed of starting a family with you and Satoru, living in a house by the beach and having several cats. He wanted it so much that his heart screamed about it. Leaving the world of Jujutsu and living as a normal person in general.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Let's live like a normal person, without curses, nothing,” you said. Your soft voice called out to him, making him flutter and he could feel the warmth slowly embracing his long-cold body. “That sounds perfect,” he whispered and smiled—a genuine smile. He grabbed both of your hands, clenching them in his fists. He kissed your hand several times with his purple eyes continuing to stare at you. Full of tenderness, full of affection.

⠀ ⠀⠀He kissed your forehead warmly, “Let's do it.”

⠀ ⠀⠀“Geto-sama..”

⠀ ⠀⠀You hear a child's voice. Turning your head to where the voice came from, you saw two little girls—one with dark brown hair with a green hoodie and the other with light brown hair with a yellow hoodie, they had short hair in the same style. When you saw the two little children you realized something, they were the little children your lover saved— Mimiko and Nanako Hasaba. You turned your gaze to Suguru who was already looking at you with a small smile. “Are they..?” Suguru nodded.

⠀ ⠀⠀You let go of your arms around Suguru's neck and stepped over to the two little girls. They seemed hesitant when you stepped forward, as they looked at Suguru as if asking for reassurance, to which the black-haired nodded. You crouched in front of them, holding each of their cheeks which made them lean into your warm touch. Seeing this, your tears broke out again, you couldn't help it. Your head fell to your bent knees, your forehead pressed there with your hands holding the two little girls' cheeks. They looked at you with confusion and curiosity, not understanding why you were crying so bitterly.

⠀ ⠀⠀They looked at you and Suguru who was still standing behind you alternately. Hesitantly their small hands touched your shoulders before stepping closer and hugging you—both of their chins resting on your shoulders. You greeted them by wrapping your arms around their waist, pulling them closer. Suguru just smiled faintly, sadly. All he could hear were your sobs, cutting into his skin every second. You remained in your position for a few moments before the small arms holding you were replaced by Suguru's muscular arms.

⠀ ⠀⠀He put one arm around your back—helping you to stand. “Oh, my love. What a beautiful thing you are,” He said softly, and who knows how many times he cupped your cheeks and ran his two thumbs across your cheeks. Suguru always thought that you were very beautiful, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, even when you were crying ugly like now. He loves how your cheeks look red when you cry too much. Too pure and innocent, making him want to continue protecting you.

⠀ ⠀⠀He likes to call you 'my love'. He says that you are his love, you are millions of feelings in one feeling. You are like a rainbow in the storm. He said that his love was given out for you and Satoru, love you both so full that there was no love left for him to the world. People say that a lifetime is very long, but Suguru can trade anything so he can get that lifetime. Even though he had to become a criminal and commit a mass murder. And he would gladly do it many times, if, in the end, he could spend all his breath with you and Satoru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru pressed his lips to yours— kissing them gently, typical of Geto Suguru. He is full of tenderness. He kissed you, gently but you could feel his misery, how several times he had to pause between kisses just to swallow his sobs. He pressed his forehead against yours after pulling his lips away, but you could still feel his soft breath on your face.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Let's do that, you, me, Satoru and the kids. Let's run away where no-one knows our name yet, where we can camp out in the open and see the stars, where we can tell each other hopes and dreams without feeling scared, it will be hopeless. We'll own nothing more than we need,” he said quietly as you watched Suguru's tears fall down one cheek. You nodded, “Let's run away together.”

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru smiled faintly.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Would you do me a favor before that?”

⠀ ⠀⠀“What is it?”

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru moved his forehead away from yours to look at you more clearly. One arm wrapped around your waist as he tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Can you wait for me, my love?” he asked. You were silent for a moment and lost in his purple eyes— you found nothing but calm and confidence. So you nodded, making Suguru's thin smile widen slightly. “Stay with Satoru while I make a better world for us, so I can give you the world that I know you deserve, would you do that for me, my love?”

⠀ ⠀⠀“Wait for me?”

⠀ ⠀⠀ “Okay,” you whispered. “I'll wait for you.”

2017

⠀ ⠀⠀I can't save you.

⠀ ⠀⠀That's what was on your mind when you saw Satoru come to your room—falling onto the bed as if he hadn't ignored you in the past few years since Suguru left. You saw how he buried his face in your pillow. His long legs dangled over the edge of the mattress which was not big enough to accommodate his tall body. You just stay silent—sitting on the floor with your knees bent upwards and your back against the wall. You looked at Satoru in silence.

⠀ ⠀⠀Since Suguru left everything has changed— everything, because Satoru is everything to you. Himself and Suguru. Half of everything is in front of you, but you still feel empty, empty. You are just a shell that happens to still be breathing but empty of the will to live.

⠀ ⠀⠀Was I supposed to tell you to leave, Satoru?

⠀ ⠀⠀“I was there too, Satoru— those summers belonged to me as much as they belonged to you, he was mine just as much as he was yours,” you think.

⠀ ⠀⠀or not?

⠀ ⠀⠀You wanted to scream at Satoru, tell him forcefully if you had to, but you couldn't. For the last 10 years, you seem to realize that you are just the third person joining in. Forcing yourself into a position that was never your place in the first place. Between him and Suguru. You're not delusional, you're well aware that between the three of you, Satoru will always love Suguru more than he loves you. You know that very well. You loved both of them equally, equally, very much— however, when Suguru left, Satoru left with him.

⠀ ⠀⠀Just like you, Satoru is just a shell who is too tired and sad to even die. You may not understand what he feels, but you try. Trying to feel what another part of your soul feels like only to lose it, but Satoru, I would never do that to you' you thought. Satoru lost half his soul, but you lost all of it.

⠀ ⠀⠀You are just a number to Satoru, far from number one. However, you still feel like it was your fault for not saying something sooner, and now it's too late. The relationship between you, Suguru and Satoru ended with Suguru leaving. And you can't do anything about it. You didn't want to throw Satoru out—not when he was crying so hard he was almost throwing up. Satoru was barely breathing—choking on his own sobs.

⠀ ⠀⠀You got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, placing your hand on his shoulder. You waited for Satoru's outburst that never came. You remembered how Satoru was when Suguru first left—he was so angry. So angry that Yaga had to ask you to stay away and said that maybe there would be a time when you would have to kill Satoru because you were the only one he could come home to. You told Yaga that you couldn't do that— even if Satoru lost his mind,because you weren't Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Your infinity is always up with me.

⠀ ⠀⠀Satoru suddenly became very sad— so sad that you worried he would do something stupid. He continues to live in Suguru's shadow, showing fake smiles and trying anything to distract him. Slowly he started to see you more often. You were happy— thinking that he had come back to his senses and was starting to see you as his girlfriend, without Suguru. But since Suguru left, you should learn not to have too high expectations of that blue-eyed man.

⠀ ⠀⠀Satoru suddenly stopped sobbing. You inhaled sharply— sensing something was wrong. Satoru got up from his seat and turned his body towards you. You saw how his blue eyes were rimmed with red and tears rolled down his pale cheeks. “I—I saw him last night,” Satoru stammered. His lips pulled into a straight line trying to swallow the deft lump that was holding back his sobs. You hold your breath for a moment. Of course, you should know, that nothing can destroy Satoru other than Suguru. You didn't move, unable to bring yourself to say anything.

⠀ ⠀⠀“The ring—”

⠀ ⠀⠀The rings. The rings Satoru bought a long time ago, one for you, one for Suguru, one for himself. The ring that was supposed to bind the three of you together, but like Satoru only wrapped the red thread around Suguru's finger, leaving you at the end of the thread alone as they got tangled up in each other. The ring he brought with the plan that he would marry Suguru and you when the three of you graduated.

⠀ ⠀⠀“He had it on when I killed him,” Satoru said, choking on the wind at the end.

⠀ ⠀⠀“You and her, the sweetest feeling I know, a peace and a flame, steady me and stir me all at once, and when I die, everything will die but these feelings.”

⠀ ⠀⠀That's what Suguru said to Satoru just before he killed him. Your mouth is shut, you can't say anything. Suguru dies and Satoru still doesn't see you. He goes blind and you're nowhere to see, and again, you can't do anything about it. You continued to stare at Satoru who was sobbing again. He looked at you with a red face and trembling lips. And something you've been so afraid of for years happens in a split second.

⠀ ⠀⠀The light in his eyes goes out.

⠀ ⠀⠀A split second and you feel so scared. So you pulled Satoru into your arms and he weakly leaned against your body. Part of you wanted to laugh about the tragedy you felt. What a joke your life is. Satoru's chin rested against your chest and his eyes continued to stare at you. You looked down at him with a sad smile. One of your arms was around his shoulder and one of your hands cupped his cheek. Your thumb ran to wipe Satoru's tears.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I don't think I can love and have enough love for someone now,” he whispered.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I know,” you thought.

⠀ ⠀⠀Still with a sad smile, you answered, “That's okay, I'll love you enough for both of us and I have a big heart. Did you know what it means? I'll have enough love for us, I have so much love for you in my heart.”

⠀ ⠀⠀Oh, how you love the man in your arms so much right now.

⠀ ⠀⠀“But I know better, when he left, you left with him, and when he died, you died with him,” you continued to yourself.

⠀ ⠀⠀You tighten your arms around Satoru's weak body, squeezing him gently. Pretending the warmth in you holds a candle to the warmth Suguru gave him. Pretending you hold a candle to him. You, the embodiment of always the bridesmaid, but never the bride.

2018⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀it's just you now.

⠀ ⠀⠀‘ . . . You finally join your other half, your one and only, your soul—'

⠀ ⠀⠀You wrestle with your thoughts with eyes that can't leave the carvings on the tombstones. Gojo Satoru, it says. In a land full of bodies buried several meters below, in a place full of death, you feel strangely safe and calm. There is no one around you, everyone is busy mourning the loss of their loved ones, just like you.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I know you're happier now than you ever were here— I know you're happier in the lifetime with him than you were alive with me,” you continued, finally daring to voice what you had been thinking for years. Finally found the courage to speak out after years of silence.

⠀ ⠀⠀Your knees are planted perfectly on the ground which will eliminate the marks there. “I'm expected to go on, like all my friends aren't dead now—” You bit your bottom lip. You felt sore in your throat from holding back your tears. You refuse to cry. “I guess this is what it was like for you, right? Having all this responsibility on your shoulder simply for being alive in the first place?”

⠀ ⠀⠀You looked down feeling a headache in your head—as if someone had just hit your skull with an iron baseball bat. It hurts so much, but even so, the pain in your heart is greater. You blinked a few times as your vision began to fade. Drop by drop tears fell from your eyes, wetting the grassy ground.

⠀ ⠀⠀“It's just me now,” you chuckled bitterly.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suddenly you feel the irony of your loneliness. You were always alone, even when Satoru was alive, what's different about now? Maybe you just deny your loneliness with your delusions. It took Satoru's death for you to realize that the second Suguru left, that moment you had no one but Satoru's shadow. Convince yourself that it is enough for you to survive.

⠀ ⠀⠀“My love for you is never big enough for you to stay, never enough to love both of us. I'll take ten more years to love you if you stay—” You choked, unable to continue your words that felt like they were stuck in your neck. “I can't heal your kid, Megumi, so he will die once Sukuna's out of him and Itadori— he's just like you, so he won't last long after Fushiguro's death, and still, it's just gonna be me, alone. ”

⠀ ⠀⠀Your body is shaking, scared, sad, pathetic.

⠀ ⠀⠀Once you long for love from Satoru when in reality you know that his love for Suguru has run out. Again and again, you just follow along. And maybe it will take you 10 years to forget everything, maybe your whole life.

⠀ ⠀⠀At the same time, you felt someone put their arm around your back. You turned to your left only to find Itadori Yuji— looking at you with the same gaze you had. A look that showed that he was on the verge of losing part of his soul. “Let's get you home,” he whispered. So with that, he slipped one arm under your knees and a second later you were no longer on the ground. Yuji turned to leave Satoru's final resting place. You looked back over Yuji's shoulder, staring at the stone with one of your loves' names engraved on it.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I hope you're happy, Satoru, my love, I really do.”

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀part 2 | alternative ending

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.

[buckevantommy]

"..Evan?"

Buck blinks. It seems like it wasn't the first time Tommy had said his name. He's at Buck's side with a hand on his back, his touch grounding. "Uh, h-hey."

Tommy reaches out to turn off the kitchen tap. "You okay?" His tone and the look on his face tells him Tommy knows he's not, but he's not going to push.

Buck sets his glass of water down on the counter, bracing on the edge with both hands. "I-I don't know, I just.." He blows out a breath. "I can't stop thinking about what happened."

"With Gerrard?"

Buck manages a nod. "I-I just keep replaying the moment over in my head. I mean, I-I pushed him out of the way, but." He saved him from the saw, but then Chim said he might've killed him. And relief warred with guilt inside Buck. He didn't want to kill the guy, but he did want to be rid of him. But could he really live with himself if it turned out Gerrard died from his botched rescue attempt? And what kind of first responder would that make him?

"Hey." Tommy's voice is gentle as he pulls Buck back from his spiral, palm rubbing soothing circles.

"Does it make me a bad person if I kinda wish he didn't survive?"

"No," Tommy says with conviction, no room for argument.

"Tommy, if he'd died it would've been my fault."

"If it weren't for you he would've died anyway."

"You don't know that." Buck's the reason he'd been standing where he was, laying into Buck with every one of his faults and insecurities and jabs that had nothing to do with the job and were just things he didn't like about Buck as a person.

"Hey, look at me." Tommy coaxes him to turn and he does, Tommy's hand fitting to his cheek like it belongs there. "You saved him because your instincts kicked in. Because you're good at your job. Whatever happened after that is not on you."

Buck wants to believe him. He wants to, but. As Gerrard's blood seeped out onto the bay floor, something ugly seeped into Buck.

Tommy lets out a sigh. "I used to fantasize about killing the bastard."

"Y-yeah?"

"All the time." The low timbre of Tommy's voice and the slow sweep of his thumb over Buck's cheekbone is doing wonders for Buck. "I found it very therapeutic, actually."

"I.. kinda had been, too. Before."

Tommy nods, humming like it's the most natural thing in the world and not something totally fucked up. "Not wanting him to survive doesn't make you a bad person. But you wouldn't have let him die. I mean, I might've pushed him into the blade, but not you."

Maybe he doesn't deserve the adoring look in Tommy's eyes, but he basks in it anyway.

"'Course, if you had killed him I would've happily helped you dispose of the body."

The laugh that punches out of Buck brings out that crinkly-eyed smile of Tommy's that he loves so much. "Good to know." A different kind of relief washes through him now, lighter and untainted.

Tommy tugs him into an embrace and Buck all but falls into him. Because Tommy understands what it's like to work under Vincent Gerrard. And because Tommy knows Buck - knows all of him, and wants him anyway.