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tbaluver · 26 days ago

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hello ree <33 i love ur writing so much so i’m finally here to make a lads request !! can i please request an amusement park themed date with sylus x fem!reader ?? :O (it can be a oneshot, drabble, hcs, i’m okay with anything hehe !!) take ur time and thank u in advance, i hope you have an amazing day !! 🫶🏻 -@sanemistar

amusement park date- sylus

pairing: sylus x fem! reader genre: fluff fluff wc: 1.1k a/n 𐙚: hihi bibi!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ eeee thank you so much you're always so sweet luv! <3 i was so happy to see you in my inbox and i apologize for taking weeks writing this ! i hope this doesn't disappoint and if it does then this doesn't exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) this post is a lil special bc the format is inspired by you and a lot of my fav writers on here ! enjoy reading and i hope you have an amazing day ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You pulled your sweater tighter around you as you stepped outside, the crisp breeze creeping to your cheeks. Sylus texted you yesterday that he had a surprise for you but with no context other than to wear comfortable warm clothes.

As you locked the door behind you, your boyfriend stood beside his motorcycle waiting for you.

“Hi sweetie,” A smile curls up on his lips as he wraps his arms around you.

“So where do you plan on taking me this time?” You asked, tilting your head to study his expression. “Is there some kind of pop up auction? Fighting wanderers? Or....” Your voice trails off, hoping that maybe he’ll give you a hint.

He shook his head, a playful smile on his lips as he grabbed your helmet on the seat. “It’s a surprise,”

You hold on tightly to Sylus as he drives you through the city. You watch as the streets that you're well familiar with begin to fade. Glancing around, the night slowly became darker and the city lights became farther. With each turn you watch the streets get unfamiliar and the number of the cars dwindle.

You stopped wondering when a burst of color pierced through the distance with displays of lights that danced around your vision. Your eyes widened as you spotted the silhouettes of the ferris wheel and the roller coasters that towered against the sky.

An amusement park?

Sylus pulled the motorcycle to a stop, the loud engine of it slowly faded into the background. He removed his helmet revealing his smile that curled on his lips.

“I rented the entire amusement park for the whole night,” He spoke, breaking through your thoughts as he helped you remove your helmet. The vibrant lights of the park reflected in your wide eyes as he continued. “You said you wanted to go weeks ago, but our schedules didn’t line up.”

He extends his hand to help you down, “Sy...” you breathed, your heart fluttering as a goofy grin spreads across your lips.

“Shall we?”

Sylus mentioned that all the rides are being controlled by Luke and Kieran. Although you appreciate that you both were going to be alone, you wondered if your safety was truly at risk with the hands of the twins controlling the rides.

“Miss Hunter! Miss Hunter! Over here!” One of the twins shouted while waving enthusiastically at you. Beside him wobbled the park’s mascot, in which you assume was the other twin inside, its fluffy arms flailing in an attempt to wave at you.

Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you grabbed Sylus’s hand, tugging him toward the pair to take a picture. “Hi Miss Hunter!” One of the twins whispered from inside the costume, his voice muffled.

“Where do you want to start off first?”

After finishing taking pictures with the twins, you take in the sight in front of you. The park was completely empty. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy still lingered in the air and the park games and the music were a distant sound in the background.

You stood there momentarily overwhelmed, taking in the amount of choices that stretched out before you. Until your eyes lit up with an idea as you spotted a small gift shop. You grabbed Sylus hand, dragging him toward the shop, his low chuckle trailing behind you.

“Headbands?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he examines the one you give him.

“It’s a necessity Sy,” You continue to browse through the various options you had, making sure you two would match.

“Pick whatever you want, it’s on me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit in the front?” You ask, making sure he felt included in the thrill of the ride.

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Sweetie, I’m being generous. You won’t see anything if I’m in the front.”

After finishing a few small rides and trying out a couple of the park games, Sylus suggested trying the scariest ride in the park. The one you had been deliberately avoiding and he knew.

He noticed the way you didn’t even bat an eye in the direction of this ride or even bother mentioning it. The outside of the ride loomed before you like a haunted mansion with sinister sounds echoed inside of it that made your heart race.

“You’re going to be alright. I’m right beside you,” He assures, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh. As the seats of the ride locked for the both of you, Luke and Kieran pull the lever to start the ride, waving goodbye as you both disappear into the ride.

Darkness enveloped your vision and without any warning, terrifying sounds erupted around you. Each turn of the ride had your heart racing as scary figures and sounds leaped into you.

You instinctively grabbed onto Sylus while Sylus remains unbothered. When the ride finally came to a full stop you stumbled out, wanting to kiss the floor for gratitude of solid ground.

Your feet were killing you. You both explored almost the entire park by now and the last one that was left was the ferris wheel. The one that Sylus suggested you do last. He offered to carry you on his back, effortlessly hoisting you up as he walked you over to the last ride for the night.

As you stepped into the ride, he made sure to lower the bar to safely secure you both in. You both ascended slowly up the ride lifting you both higher and higher, offering a better view of the entire park.

As you slowly reach to the very top of the ride, it comes to a gentle halt. You turned to Sylus, a flicker of confusion in your eyes and yet he remained unbothered.

“Did you have a great time today?” Sylus asked, he smiled softly as he looked at you with admiration.

“Of course I did, did you Sy?”

Suddenly, the night sky erupted with fireworks. Bursts of colors illuminated the canvas of the night sky, some with silly shapes and of course a shape of a crow and a dove.

You watched in awe as the fireworks sparked above you, the colors reflected in your eyes but Sylus was unfazed by the show. His gaze was locked onto you.

As the last firework fizzled into the night, he reached out, gently guiding your face toward his with the tip of his finger. Without any hesitation, he closes the gap between you both as he kisses you softly, his mouth soft on yours.

“I always have a great time when I’m with you.”

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cvntydazai · 4 months ago

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cat and mouse

ever since your first day at the agency you’ve made an effort to avoid dazai and his silly little games, even when he so desperately craves your attention.

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader

word count; 3.3k

content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact), unedited, cursing, dazai fingers reader, reader is gifted but their gift is not described/specified, the usual dazai shenanigans, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of murder, probably a lot more

authors note; sigh not only is this a day late but i’m not proud of it so sorry guys :( been so busy lately this was not what i had in mind for this fic, i still hope it’s enjoyable!

when you first joined the agency it was a desperate attempt to find a job that could utilize your gift, after many failed “normal” jobs you just had to accept that your situation wasn’t normal and you needed a job that could handle that. you caught wind of a detective agency full of gifted individuals and knew it was the perfect opportunity.

that’s how you got to where you were now, 6 months into your career as a gifted detective. it has been going perfect, being the longest job you’ve ever had.

there was just one issue, a big one that took its place in the form of a tall, bandaged man who could never leave you alone. dazai osamu, the issue called itself, would be the death of you.

it all started on your very first day at the agency, he wasted little time introducing himself and instead put all of his energy towards wooing you with those doe eyes. you also recall him telling you could rely on him anytime, followed by a wink and a knowing smirk. you were warned by yosano to keep your distance from him, advice that you still regret not taking to this day.

he tried to get your attention for weeks, throwing paper balls on your desk and mouthing at you to open them. inside was always a love note, multiple tiny hearts littering the crumpled paper. he never seemed to take it personally when you would throw those papers in your trash can, forgetting about them to continue on with work.

just when you begin to think he’s finally let go of his obsession with you, one fateful morning you end up alone with him in the office.

“ah, beautiful morning isn’t?” he attempted small talk, you only offered a nod and continued filing out your paperwork.

so engrossed in your work you didn’t realize how close he had gotten until you felt his warm breath fanning your shoulder, you naturally flinched. you cocked your head to glance at him, those tired eyes focused on your computer screen.

“what has you working your sweet little head off?” his curiosity would seem genuine to anyone who wasn’t familiar with dazai and his antics.

you cleared your throat, “just recalling the specifics of my previous mission.” he hummed, his slim hand brushing over yours so he could use the scroll wheel on your mouse. you watched as his eyes scanned the document, analyzing your every word.

being so physically close you were forced to take in all the features of him you chose to ignore, for your own good. you knew dazai was an attractive man, and he knew it too. you didn’t dare to look in his eyes anymore so you focused on his hair, unkempt yet still framed his face perfectly and looked fluffy, you wondered if it felt fluffy too.

“it’s hard to focus with you staring me down like a piece of meat, bella.” he whispered, you gasped at such an accusation.

“whatever, in your dreams.” you bit back, feeling flustered.

he turned to look at you, his eyes danced around your entire face, drinking in every detail of you like a book. many silent moments later, his eyes stopped when they landed on your lips, causing even more turmoil in your chest. it was all too much, being under the heavy gaze of someone like him.

“anyways..” you start, trying to find any excuse to break this close proximity. “the others should be here soon, we should start getting stuff done around here.”

he hummed in agreement, backing away at last. now that you felt like you could breathe again you tried your hardest to continue on with whatever paperwork you had. you ignored the tremble in your fingertips, typing away on the keyboard.

once the others started filing into the office the tension eased substantially, you were thankful for that. kunikida was the first to arrive, surprised to see you both already there. you ignored his curious stare, greeting him properly and then returning to your computer. dazai pestered the poor man for a bit before quieting down himself.

you thought that was it, the weird encounter in the office would be the last of his teasing. couldn’t he see you weren’t in the mood for his games, or was this all too amusing for him to care?

fate would put you in a battle against dazai once again just a mere week later. you both sat in front of your boss, a kind man by the name of fukuzawa. in your months here at the agency your respect for him has only grown, his admiration for his employees and the work they do warmed your heart. you truly felt grateful to be under the command of someone as strong-willed and humble as he was.

“there’s a murder scene i’d like the two of you to look into, please go gather evidence.” he says, hands folded in his lap while he speaks to you.

you’re both silent as he goes over the details of the case. a body found in the museum with suspicion of a gifted individual being involved, it felt as normal as these missions usually are. once you’re dismissed you and dazai make your way outside to the cab waiting for you.

he rushes to open the car door for you, motioning you inside with an eager smile. you sigh, complying with whatever he was up to.

you shuffle around a bit until you’re comfortable, dazai takes his seat beside you and the car begins moving. while dazai stared out of the window on his side, you occupy yourself with responding to all the messages people have sent you that you pushed aside to finish work. some may call you a workaholic (dazai), others (kunikida) call you a devoted employee, you much preferred the title of a devoted employee. your desire to be of use was finally fulfilled now that you were at the agency, for that you were eternally thankful.

“my dear y/n, i just realized something!” the loud voice of dazai makes you cringe, clutching your poor phone into a death grip.

he doesn’t let you respond, “this is our first time handling a case together alone, just the two of us!” the excitement in his tone makes you irritated.

“and what about it?” your monotonous response makes the brunette clutch his chest, a look of hurt in his eyes.

“we finally get the alone time we’ve been dying to have since our little moment in the office.” if the phone that was still being strangled in your palm wasn’t already broken, it sure was now.

“you totally misread the situation in the office, i wasn’t even looking at you like that!” the anger in your tone came across as an embarrassed yelp, it made his grin grow wider.

there was no point in arguing with a man who has made up his mind, he totally thought you were checking him out and now he’ll never back down. an exasperated sigh left your lips, deeply regretting not taking yosano’s warning seriously.

thankfully, all you had to endure for the rest of the car ride was dazai’s humming to a tune you were unfortunately accustomed to by now. it was hard to forget said song when it was always filling the office air, either by dazai’s singing or the sound blaring from his headphones that were definitely not noise-canceling.

hell, you even caught yourself humming the tune from time to time, not that you’d ever let someone else find out.

“we’re here.” you thanked the driver, hastily leaving the vehicle before dazai could open the door for you.

the museum in front of you was old, ready to crumble at any given moment, many of the stone bricks were cracked beyond repair and the shrubs that surrounded the entrance were all dead or dying. you never got the details on whether or not the place was even running anymore.

“this museum shut down years ago and no one has bought it since, perfect place to commit murder.” dazai appeared beside you, seemingly answering the question to your thoughts.

you nodded in agreement, stepping inside without a second thought.

inside all you could see was chaos, shattered glass from broken display cases and graffiti littering the walls. it almost pained you, seeing how this once beautiful sanctuary of history was now torn to shreds for no good reason.

you found what you were looking for quick, the bright yellow caution tape gave it away. you’re sure the police had already come to take the body, so it didn’t surprise you when you didn’t see anything there.

fukuzawa strictly said you were only here to gather evidence, so that’s what you’ll do. while you got to work, dazai lazed around the building, kicking random trash around to entertain himself. he would giggle when you scolded him for tampering with possible clues.

you knew you were only here to gather evidence but something about the whole situation felt so strange to you, leaving you no choice but to investigate further. normally, you pride yourself in how well you are at gathering information needed for an investigation, but this time around you were completely stumped.

it had your brain so wracked you even contemplated calling ranpo, however you fought against it since you knew he was already working on a case today and you didn’t want to bother him just because you couldn’t find clues that may not exist.

after a few more minutes of coming back empty handed the realization hit you like a truck, a soft breath leaving your lips at your newfound discovery.

“dazai..” you mumble, still a bit unsure of your conclusion, he only hummed in response.

“i don’t think a murder ever occurred here.” nothing but silence on his part, until you hear the shuffling of his footsteps and his breath hot against your ear.

“well done, flower! to be honest, i didn’t think you would figure it out this quickly.” his hushed voice felt loud with him being so close to you.

you were left confused once again, if dazai knew from the start why didn’t he just say so? or was he the one who orchestrated this whole thing? so many questions reeling through your brain, and dazai was thoroughly enjoying watching you piece together the mystery he created for you.

but alas, he had to cut it short, you two had limited time here after all. fukuzawa would eventually figure out dazai’s antics and there would be hell to pay, that was a problem for later though.

“i made the whole thing up!” he admitted, lips still dangerously close to your ear. “you were always so busy, i needed to get you alone for once.”

you pushed him off you in an instant, anger bubbling inside you. never once did you expect dazai to do something like this, no matter how crazy he was at times. hell, this was beyond crazy.

“you couldn’t have gone about it like a normal fucking person? jesus christ, dazai!” you were now pacing, thinking of all the time you lost entertaining this game of his when it could have been spent at the office or on a real case.

“oh bella please, let me finish.” he begged, stepping close to you again.

you protested for a second time, taking a step back so he couldn’t reach you. it would prove to be the wrong move, your ankle catching on a stray piece of rubble from all the broken displays in this damned building. you’re sent tumbling backwards, a cry leaving your lips as you reached out to grasp dazai’s open arms.

your landing is hard, your ankle throbbing with pain from whatever it was caught on. dazai is at your side in an instant, a look of concern adorning his features as he practically cradled you.

“are you okay?” his voice was serious this time around, so much so that it caught you off guard.

“no, my ankle is bleeding.” you state, clear annoyance in your voice whilst you examine your injury.

you’re caught off guard once again by him effortlessly picking you up from the floor and setting you down on a flat, clean surface. now perched on a white table, you let your other leg dangle off the edge while you tend to your hurt ankle.

dazai claims he’ll be back, that he’s going to search for a medkit around here. you nod, happy to be away from his suffocating presence. you’re not anywhere near free from your thoughts though, the lanky man is still clean in your mind.

you didn’t even know he possessed the strength to lift you like that, he always looked so frail and ready to break at any given. you shake your head from any further thoughts of dazai, that stupid man.

“found one.” he was back again, a small medkit in his rather large hands.

despite your many protests he still insisted on caring for you, acknowledging that this was his fault and the responsibility should fall on his shoulders. you kept your mouth shut while he wrapped your foot in the bandages the first aid kit provided. his soft touches to your swollen skin were light, almost soothing.

you hated this, hated how perfect he was. how were you supposed to ignore such a man when his presence was everywhere. most of all though, you were still thoroughly pissed! he not only wasted your time, but the agency’s time, and that was unforgivable in your eyes.

“why?” you question him, “and don’t give me that bullshit ass excuse from before, or so help me.”

he chuckled at your threatening words, eyes remained trained on your foot. there was a momentary pause before his eyes met yours, his held mischievous undertones.

“i was getting tired of this back and forth, you know.” there he goes again like a broken record, you huffed.

“i don’t know what you’re-“ he cuts you off with a finger to your lips, hushing you in the sweetest way he could muster.

“the other day, when you threw away one of my well thought out love letters i went to retrieve it after you left to the bathroom, can you imagine my surprise to find it wasn’t there anymore?” your eyes widen, like a deer caught in the bright headlights of a hunters truck.

“and then i go to check your locker and i see every single one of them in a nice neat stack.” his finger was taken off your lips, his eyebrow raised as if expecting an answer to his discovery.

“why were you in my locker?” you deflect, feeling embarrassed that he knew about your little secret.

instead of answering he finished wrapping your foot, giving the gauze one final tug before leaving it be. he smiled at you, a smile you couldn’t read. with your legs spread out like they were, it gave him the perfect opportunity to weave in between them and trap your body close to his. he did just that, growing dangerously close to you.

“dazai..” you start, unsure.

he doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on treading his fingers against your waist, eyes never once leaving yours.

“we shouldn’t..” you speak again, your breathing growing more sporadic when he hooks one of his fingers underneath your belt buckle, the way he plays with it is teasing.

“why shouldn’t we, bella? i arranged all of this for us anyways.” his way of showing interest in you, doing something so unsound with little care for the consequences.

but oh god, was it attractive. his touch grew more and more needy by the second and you couldn’t find the desire to push him away, because deep down you wanted this too. you knew you wanted the bandaged detective the second you walked through those doors and saw him sitting there, fiddling with little trinkets he had on his desk looking pretty as ever.

“i think we should put an end to this cat and mouse game, hm?” his voice fills your ears again and this time around you listen, nodding whilst wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even tighter against you.

he’s first to put his lips on yours in a desperate, longing kiss. he tastes sweet, probably from whatever chapstick he uses. the kiss is deeply rooted in lust yet affection as well, he squeezes your waist in the lightest way possible.

“dazai!” you moan out, surprised when he bites your bottom lip teasingly.

“osamu.” he says through the kiss. “call me osamu.” and then he’s back to attacking you, hips rutting into yours.

you think you’ll pass out with how long he’s been kissing you but he eventually pulls away, leaving you gasping for air. he wastes little time, discarding his pants and helping you with yours, the desperation evident in his eyes as he stands before you in just his boxers and dress shirt. he looks like a crazed man who had been holding back for far too long.

once you’re free from the confines of clothing it allows him to truly feel you, his palm cupping your heat. he runs two fingers across your slit before prodding them at your entrance.

“so beautiful, everything about you is so beautiful.” he whispers, stopping his hand entirely.

“dazai.” you say again, sounding more desperate than before, it was even possible.

“osamu.” he corrects, his voice still soft but held hints of firmness.

you repeat his first name back to him and he finally slips two fingers into your cunt. his long fingers are able to reach parts inside of you that your own fingers can’t, the new length has you bucking your hips into his hand.

he lets out a muffled giggle but says nothing, his eyes watching the way you suck his fingers in with every thrust. he looks entranced by the sight, it leaves you feeling shy. you have no time to dwell on your embarrassment as he picks up his pace, along with adding a third digit to your already full pussy.

the stretch of the third finger and the change in pace has you throwing your head back, nails clawing at the table you were perched up against just to give yourself some sort of stability.

you feel your climax approaching quicker than you anticipated, shaking your head from the overstimulation. just before you were about to reach your high, it was ruined by a muffled ringing in dazai’s discarded pants. he pulls his fingers out of you in a swift motion, ignoring your whines of protest as he reaches to grab the phone from his pants pocket.

“hey boss.” he starts, his voice as quirky as ever.

you could hear fukuzawa’s irritated tone through the phone even if you couldn’t pick up his exact words. dazai simply hummed and nodded in agreement, even letting out an apology for the time wasted on a fake case. within just a few minutes the call was over, and dazai’s smile had grown even larger.

he ended the call with a sigh, a pout on his lips that told you he was definitely in trouble when you two got back to the agency. you wondered what excuse he’d give the boss, and what punishment he would receive for lying.

“i’m truly saddened to have to cut this short.” you knew he meant it, you gave him a smile.

“it’s okay, we’ll continue it tonight after we see what kind of hell fukuzawa is gonna put you through for this.” the promise of this continuing excited him, and for once he couldn’t wait to get back to the office to finish up his job.

he helped you put your pants back on before putting on his own, making sure your injury was still well taken care of. this time you don’t fight him even once, allowing him to assist you to the car that was waiting outside for the two of you.

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zepskies · 11 months ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 19

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: Deep breaths, my friends. We’re almost to the end. ❤️

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Violence, peril, blood and guns, character death…

Part 19: “Sacrifice”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Dean’s wide eyes flicked up to John’s, and the other man sprang into action. He shot a look and a whispered order at Cas, who went running for some IP tracking equipment back in the police car.

Meanwhile, John guided Dean to sit down on the couch. Sam followed them on his brother’s right, while John sat on Dean’s left.

Dean put the phone on speaker between the three of them.

“You’re Daniel Savage, huh?” Dean said. He tried to inject some more control into his tone, like he wasn’t freaking the fuck out. “Man, do I feel special.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Dean-o. I’m doing the same thing your dad’s doing. Hooking the bigger fish.”

Dean’s lips pursed. He glanced at his father, but his attention on the phone turned steely.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked. “Your lackey’s on lockdown. So’s your bastard son. If you want to help him, I’d suggest you turn your ass over to the cops.”

“Yes, Nick’s an idiot. But family, right?” said Daniel. He breathed out a sigh.

But then his voice was firm and calculating. It made Dean’s skin crawl.

“Cards on the table, son. Your daddy’s got something of mine. I’ve got something of yours.”

Dean’s face hardened, but John raised a placating hand; a warning to keep calm. Dean tried to take a breath.

His heart clenched at the mere thought of you being in the same room with that man. Having been taken and hauled to God knows where. He couldn’t imagine how scared you were. And if you were hurt…

Fuck. There was a roiling pit forming in his stomach, his head starting to pound in time with his heartbeat.

Already Cas was back with a laptop and program designed to track the caller’s phone. He connected a USB-like cord to Dean's phone and began fiddling with the settings, trying to get a read. Dean knew he had to keep this fucker talking.

“You have her with you?” he asked.

“Sure do. She’s a pretty little thing.”

Dean’s jaw clenched in a furious glare. “Don’t you fucking touch her, you son of a bitch.”

“Quid pro quo, Dean. What can you do for me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as desperation began to escape him. “There’s no way they’re letting Nick go before the trial. It’s out of my dad’s hands.”

“Your dad has no real evidence that my son is anything more than a successful businessman,” said Daniel. “If you really need someone to pin these unfortunate murders on, you had your man in custody…but, oh wait. You gave him immunity.”

Dean’s eyes were desperate when they met Sam’s worried ones, then their father’s. It didn’t matter that John and Cas did have evidence besides Alastair’s testimony. All Dean cared about was you.

He swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. It’s what I want John to do.”

Dean took a moment to close his eyes, pull himself together. His hands squeezed his knees to brace himself. When he next opened his eyes, he let out a sharp breath.

“What do you want then? Aside from Nick somehow breaking loose,” he asked.

“I want your dad to back the fuck off, once and for all,” Daniel said. His voice was more edged, with both warning and a hint of frustration. “Or I’ll make his son live the same pathetic existence he does.”

Dean’s next breath came out harsher, as both John and Sam sharpened at the threat.

“That’s right, Dean. These are my terms of engagement, else I’m gonna have a bonfire with your girl here.”

It all gripped Dean at once.

Panic, anger, and desperation.

He grabbed the phone and spoke harshly into the speaker.

“Put her on the damn line," he said. "I wanna hear her and know this isn’t a trick.”

Daniel sighed, like he was getting bored. “Oh, all right.”

There was some shuffling, the sound of Daniel’s steps echoing in what sounded like a large room. Dean’s brows furrowed as he heard sounds of your struggle, then your labored breaths, as if a gag had been removed from your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and talk to him,” said Daniel.

Soon enough, your tremulous voice reached him.

“Dean?” you said. You sounded like you were fighting tears; maybe even losing. Dean’s heart broke all the more for it.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice shook. He hoped you weren’t lying for his sake.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He raised a fist to his mouth, ignoring how it shook. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to find you—”

All too soon, the phone was taken away from you.

“Rule number one of negotiations, kid. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Dean’s eyes widened. The next thing he heard was a hard slap. It echoed into the speaker, along with your shout of both surprise and pain, a chair toppling over.

“You fucking bastard!” Dean seethed. “When I find you—”

John interrupted this time, taking the cell phone from Dean. He shot his son a look that was meant to be reassuring, but Dean was too incensed. Sam gripped his shoulder and earned his brother’s gaze. Dean’s chest heaved with the effort of calming his breathing.

“What do you want?” John said into the phone. His voice was clipped and direct.

While he continued to speak, Cas was frowning in frustration over his laptop.

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“I can’t get a lock on his signal. He must have something throwing off the scanner,” Cas replied.

Dean growled in frustration and pushed off the couch. He began to pace the living room, all while he tried to keep an ear on what John was saying lowly into the phone.

By the time he hung up, Dean was raging.

“Fuck this, I’m gonna find her,” he said. John tried to stop him from going anywhere with a hand on his shoulder. Dean knocked him off angrily. Sam also stood, for once on the same page as his father, no matter how much he sympathized.

“Dean, you need to calm down,” John tried.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t ask for this!” Dean shouted. The force of it echoed on the apartment walls. “Matter of fact, I’ve never asked you for a damn thing until now. Only that you’d keep me in the loop on Azazel, and keep her out of this. But you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

Sam was at a loss, looking between his father and brother. Cas was also caught in between, watching the scene with concern, and bated breath.

John’s broad shoulders sunk a bit, along with the deep breath he expelled.

“You’re right,” John said. "You're right, son. And I'm sorry."

His eyes held the weight of his words. Of sincerity. And by degrees, Dean’s anger lessened.

Again, not by much.

“Let’s fix it,” said John. “Once and for all.”

Dean wasn’t fully recovered from his TBI. He’d been cleared for driving, but not yet for full physical exercise, let alone going back to work. The stress of all this was giving him a powerful headache, but there was no way he was going to be sidelined now, on any part of it.

Sam was forced to withdraw the case against Nick Savage, citing lack of evidence to support a trial at this time. The judge gave Sam permission to refile when he was able to build a better case.

John was then tasked with escorting Nick out of prison. Cas, meanwhile, was sitting in his personal car outside the county jail with Dean in the passenger seat. Cas didn’t trust what his friend would do behind the wheel once he saw Nick.

“What happens after Nick gets out?” Dean asked. “Dad’s been cagey about the whole deal.”

“We’re escorting him to the airport,” Cas said. “There we’ll wait for Daniel and make the exchange.”

Nick, for you. That was the deal.

“And then?” Dean asked, his teeth already clenching.

Cas blew out a sigh. “We’ll have a unit waiting on standby. We’re going to try and get ahold of whoever has her, though I doubt Daniel will come himself.”

“What if you can’t catch him?” Dean pressed.

Cas didn’t want to have to tell his friend something he didn’t want to hear, but he didn’t make a habit of lying to Dean. He wasn’t about to start now.

“Then it’s over, for now,” he replied. “We each go back to our corners and regroup.”

“Dad’ll never stop hunting this guy,” Dean said.

“That may be,” Cas nodded. “But he does have a line.”

“My father’s an obsessed bastard,” Dean groused. “He doesn’t have a damn line.”

Cas looked over at him then. He was calm and sympathetic, and yet, still disagreeing in his silence. Dean knew he was probably wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t care. He was still angry.

He perked up, however, when the prison doors slid open. Out came John escorting Nick and his lawyer, Amelia. Nick looked as smug as ever now that his cuffs were off. He was given the clothes he was arrested in—a blue silk shirt, pants, Italian leather shoes, and a silver Rolex watch.

Screw this, Dean thought. He unlocked the car from his side and climbed out. He didn’t care that he could hear Cas mutter a curse behind him and follow suit.

Nick saw Dean coming and couldn’t help but smirk, even as John grasped his arm and led him to his police car.

“Hey, fireman,” Nick taunted with his waggling brows. “Where’s our girl?”

Dean’s lips edged at a dangerous smile. Cas came up just behind him, ready to restrain him if need be.

“You can finesse your way out of this, but remember our little chat,” Dean said. His eyes burned with a thinly veiled threat. “Not a dime in this world can protect you from me.”

Nick pretended to shiver.

“Ooh, I’m so fucking scared,” he snarked. He resisted John’s manhandling and ripped his arm out of the other man’s grasp to step further into the open, leaving just a few yards between him and Dean.

“You can’t touch me,” Nick taunted. “You won’t dare. Not unless you want—”

Three shots rang out in the open clearing.

All heads ducked, but Dean’s eyes widened. He watched Nick crumple to the ground as scarlet red plumed in the man’s silk shirt. The shock etched on his face drained along with his life, leaving blue eyes staring up at a clear sky.

Forensics at the scene found traces of a sniper on the rooftop of a building directly across from the county jail.

John and Cas already were mounting an entire unit search in locating Alastair Rolston, but he had apparently moved out of his apartment as soon as he was released from prison with his immunity deal. (The police officers escorting him into witness protection had been found dead at the scene of his designated safe house.)

The detectives were later called into the medical examiner’s office on the case of Nick Savage—not to examine the body, but the bullets that had carved into his heart, right lung, and throat.

One of the bullets had a special casing. Inside was a rolled-up note, not unlike a carrier pigeon. It had a simple message:

JOHN — STULL STORAGE. COME ALONE.

Once again, Dean refused to sit idly. He’d pushed back hard enough that John had eventually relented. This time, however, Sam stepped in to make sure his brother was reigned in. Dean’s knee was already bouncing with anticipation and nervousness.

It was nearly midnight on a Tuesday. The brothers sat in the surveillance van with Jody Mills, all wearing protective Kevlar vests as precaution. The van was removed from the immediate site of Stull Storage, which was made up of a main warehouse and several rows of storage units on the other side.

Cas was leading another police unit on standby, but John was going into the warehouse. He wore his usual leather jacket over his rumpled shirt, pants, and boots, but also a protective vest and hidden wire under his collar.

Sam, Dean, and Jody were able to listen in as John entered alone.

He had a flashlight positioned over his raised gun as he walked into the building. He found some light switches along the wall and was able to turn on half the room’s fluorescent ceiling lights.

He heard a whimper.

Moving towards the sound cautiously, John soon found you tied to a chair. You looked a bit worse for wear; though you were dressed for an interview in black slacks and a blouse, your hair was in disarray, your cheek still sported a fading red mark, and you likely had other bumps and bruises.

Your eyes widened with hope when you saw John. You made sounds of surprise around the gag tied in your mouth, but he shushed you with a finger held to his lips.

He went over to you after lowering his gun, cocking back the safety, and re-holstering. He went to untie the gag first. You breathed deeply when it was gone.

“You okay?” he asked, touching your arm in comfort.

“Yeah,” you nodded, but your widening eyes still darted behind him.

Another safety clicked back. John immediately drew his gun again and turned. He was met with the man of the hour.

Standing mere feet away with his own gun was Daniel Savage. AKA: Azazel.

“Ooh, you’re getting old, John,” he said with a smirk. “Wasn’t expecting to get the drop on you so easily.”

John subtly moved so he was standing in front of you. He hadn't had time to untie you from the chair. Your breathing came out shallow as you tried to spy around John to your captor.

“Daniel,” John greeted. “It’s about time, wouldn’t you say?”

“You cheated though,” said Daniel, despite his cocky smirk. Like father like son. “I know you’ve got a team waiting in the wings.”

“If you wanna get technical, you cheated first,” John pointed out.

Daniel shrugged. Behind him came around ten of his own hired men, armed with their own guns. “Hate the player, hate the game, my friend.”

John’s lips pursed, but he didn’t lower his gun. He had a straight shot at Daniel’s chest.

“Even if you do get off a shot, you’ll be Swiss cheese where you stand,” Daniel said.

“Small price to pay for ending your miserable fucking life,” John remarked.

Daniel’s brows rose. “Are you gonna make her pay for it too?”

He gestured behind John, where he glanced back at your face. Your red-rimmed eyes were shining with tears. And John knew that once his gun fired, his body would hit the ground. Yours wouldn’t be far behind.

His brows furrowed, and the hands holding his weapon wavered.

“So how you do think this is gonna play out?” John asked.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to drop that damn gun,” said Daniel. He cocked his own weapon. “Then, you’re going to get down on your knees and take this bullet, like putting down a rabid dog. Then maybe, I’ll let her go before the cops rush in.”

John’s hesitation was mere seconds. He clicked the safety back on. He set down his gun, and lowered to his knees in slow movements.

Your eyes widened further as incredulous tears slipped down your cheeks. You shook your head.

“Don’t!” you said shakily.

John didn’t look back at you this time, but he did answer you.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said.

Daniel’s grim smile made you shiver.

“What a caring father-in-law,” he said, and he slowly stalked forward. “You know, I prided myself on delegating my operations well. Oh, it was a well-oiled machine back in the day. But some things…well, some things are just better handled yourself. Know what I mean?”

He tilted his head down at John.

“For example: I really regret the way I had your wife killed,” he said. “For all the trouble you’ve given me, I wish I’d actually burned the bitch myself.”

John glared up at the man with pure fury and hatred.

Though his eyes widened when the first shot split the air, and buried a bullet in Daniel’s left arm. Daniel shouted in pain as he unconsciously dropped his gun. John dove for it, and everything started to happen at once.

Daniel kicked at John��s chest while holding his wounded arm, tossing the other man back. John rolled onto his feet, and their full out brawl began. Meanwhile, a unit of police officers swarmed into the warehouse and sparked a shootout with Daniel’s men.

And in all of this, Cas came out from behind your line of vision to untie you. He wore a protective vest over his usual white dress shirt, now rolled up to the elbows.

“Cas!” you gasped. He gave you a smile, then used a pocketknife to cut through the zip ties holding your wrists behind you and your ankles to the chair.

“Come on, let’s go.” He helped you up and guided you out the back of the warehouse.

The last coherent sound Sam and Dean heard was a bullet fired and hitting its target. They couldn’t tell if it was John or Daniel that had been hit, or even you.

Above all things, Dean was a man of action.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck this,” he growled. He got to his feet and went for the door of the surveillance van, but while Jody voiced her protest, it was Sam who reached him first.

“Dean, stop! You can’t go out there!” Sam said.

“The hell I can’t,” Dean said. The punch he reared back and threw was precise when it cracked Sam in the cheek. He went down hard. It was all Jody could do to keep him from knocking his head on the metal floor, but Sam was out cold, with his hair flopped over his face.

"Dean!" Jody yelled after him. She stared after the open door of the van with wide, worried eyes.

There were rows upon rows of storage units behind the warehouse. It felt like a maze in itself, one that you and Cas were forced to navigate alone in the crisp January night. Both of you saw your breath on the air as you tried to move quickly, but quietly.

Until a long arm reached out on the other side of a unit, and a hand closed on Cas’s gun, pushing it down and ripping it out of his hands. An elbow cracked into his face, making him grunt and stumble.

Your scream of surprise echoed in the night. You stared up into the familiar face of Alastair, whose mouth formed a sly grin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said.

Cas distracted him with a blow that Alastair blocked, but it gave Cas room to break the taller man’s stance and knock his head against the unit wall—once, twice, until the man stumbled and fell. He wasn’t knocked out, but Cas didn’t wait for Alastair to recover. He grabbed you and forced you to run.

“I thought he was in protective custody for the trial,” you said, through huffing breaths.

“Evidently he escaped,” Cas replied.

“God, Cas. You really need to hand out some pink slips,” you said, with a tremor in your voice. The police were supposed to have been watching you as well, before you were kidnapped. Cas conceded your point.

“We really shouldn’t have given him immunity,” he grumbled.

Dean knew he was being some kind of idiot.

Knew it as he carefully approached a side door of the warehouse. His vest wouldn’t protect his whole body if he entered the no man’s land shootout he could hear happening on the other side of the door.

Already he could see policemen escorting some of Azazel’s captured team around the front exit. Dean kept to the shadows, and he cracked the side door open.

There was still plenty going on inside. A few bodies were already strewn across the dusty warehouse floor. Large crates stacked up to the ceiling offered meager protection for both sides of the siege, including Dean as he kept to the wall and slid his way inside and behind a formation of wooden crates. He scanned the room until he found his dad.

John was fighting hand-to-hand with who had to be Daniel Savage. Even though the latter had blood dripping from his arm, John had his share of bruises and scrapes, including a long cut across his cheek from the knife clenched in Daniel’s non-injured right hand.

What the hell do I do? Dean assessed the situation, his eyes darting quickly between the men. He came in here without a weapon (another smart move). He went through most of the training a million years ago, but Dean wasn’t a police officer. He was a firefighter.

However, when he spotted a forgotten Glock on the floor, just a few yards away where the men were still tousling, Dean inched his way closer. He’d have to leave the relative safety of the crates and throw himself out into the open to reach the gun. At this point, Daniel was closer.

And he’d noticed the gun too, at the same time that John glanced up and saw his son. His eyes widened, and just for a moment he lost his grip on Daniel. The other man went for the gun at the same time Dean dove.

John yanked Daniel back by his collar and kneed him in the stomach. But Daniel had the longer reach. He cracked an elbow into John’s face and followed by a swift punch to the gut. John grunted and doubled over at the impact to his already battered ribs and stomach.

Daniel threw him head-first into a pile of nearby crates. He was breathing hard, but his lips twitched in satisfaction at the way John fell into a heap of broken wood. The detective was clearly waning.

Daniel stalked forward. Ignoring his still bleeding shoulder, he grabbed John by the jacket and collar of his shirt and hefted him up to his feet, prepared to deliver another blow. The cocking of a nearby gun made him pause. But in a moment, he twisted John in front him with an arm wrapped around his neck to face his next attacker.

While Daniel had been distracted, Dean had managed to dive and roll across the concrete, scooping up the gun on his way back onto his feet. Now he’d had the time to take aim and wait for his moment, which was right fucking now.

Slowly, Daniel tilted his head to look past John’s shoulder. He was met with Dean’s smirk and a gun pointed directly at his head.

“I think I’ve got something of yours,” Dean remarked. His fingers slid over the trigger.

Daniel tilted his head. A dry smile edged at the corner of his lips. “All right, Dean. Well played. But…”

He tightened his arm around John’s throat and held the knife poised at his neck.

“We’re at what you’d call an impasse, don’t you think?” Daniel asked.

“Dean,” John said. He met his eldest’s gaze as uncertainly crept into Dean’s stance. His hand was still held aloft, but there was an almost imperceptible shake.

“Just shoot him,” said John, with full conviction. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s mouth pressed into a line, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t doing that.

“See, I don’t think he’s got it in ‘im,” Daniel said, speaking lowly in John’s ear. His knife tightened against John’s neck. “You’re out of your fucking depth, Dean.”

Dean flinched as a bullet zoomed past his head from across the room. He was reminded that there was still a fight going on, and the three of them were very much out in the open. John’s face turned more urgent, with thinly veiled worry.

“Dean, either shoot him or get the hell out of here,” he said tersely.

“I’m not leaving,” Dean said, with a small, stubborn shake of his head. But he was nervous. Despite how close he’d come with Nick Savage, Dean had never shot at someone, let alone taken a life. The gun was heavy in his hand.

“Running out of time, son,” Daniel taunted.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean gritted out. “Speaking of, did you have Alastair do your dirty work, taking out Nick, or did you pull that trigger yourself?”

Daniel’s smirk faded, his gaze tightening with resignation.

“Sacrifices, Dean,” he said. “We make ‘em to survive. To make sure our legacies survive.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he looked at this man, and he finally understood what his dad had been trying to tell him.

He ain’t a man. He’s a monster.

The gun was heavy in his hand…

“Come on, Dean!” Daniel shouted. “Make a decision—”

Dean still remembered most things he’d learned at the Police Academy. He’d lived, ate, sweat, and breathed those drills and tests for months. And yet, there was only one score he’d truly been proud of. It was the one record of his dad’s that he’d managed to beat.

You could guess which one.

Dean let his fingers squeeze the trigger on some instinct he couldn’t name. Daniel was forced to choke on his words.

Cas pulled you around the corner of a storage unit that blocked the light of the moon. It was just in time for a bullet to rip past where his head used to be.

You leaned heavily against the wall and heaved for breath, but Cas held a finger to his lips while he tried to calm his own breathing.

You held a hand over your mouth to try and stifle the sounds from getting out. Your eyes were wide and panicked, but Cas could only reassure you with a brief hand on your shoulder. He nodded and signaled with his free hand. Wait.

You gave a jerky nod in return. So he reached for his belt and brandished the only weapon he had left—the knife he’d used to cut through your bonds. The air was quiet, except for the distant shouts of police officers; it sounded like Azazel’s men were finally being rounded up.

Cas had called for backup earlier, but he didn’t think they could wait for it. Nor would he know if they were coming. He’d long since turned off the radio on his belt so that it couldn’t tip off his position with you.

He chanced looking around the wall of the storage unit. The coast looked clear, though he knew it wasn’t. Still, the best Cas could hope for was to cover you on the way back to the police barricade. He leaned back and reached for you. He guided you, both with his eyes and a hand on your back.

On the count of three, run, he mouthed. You wordlessly agreed. He saw the fear shining in your eyes.

One…two…

An arm shot out to grab Castiel’s collar the moment he stepped out from his cover, making you scream. The first punch came swift; Alastair was taller, perhaps stronger, but Cas recovered quickly.

He ducked the other man’s arm and delivered an uppercut that had his adversary careening back. With a well-placed jab to the wrist, Alastair’s gun clattered away across the ground.

Cas managed to shoot you a quick look. “Run. Now!”

You paused for a mere moment while Cas continued to grapple with Alastair. Then, in your frozen fear, you finally managed flight. And you took off running, even though Alastair tried to grab at your hair. Cas held him back and continued the fight.

You’d only managed a few yards of distance though, before you couldn’t help but look back. Something in you just couldn’t leave Cas behind.

You took cover behind another storage unit and watched Alastair slowly get the upper hand. He managed to pin Cas against the ribbed metal wall of a unit. He winced as it dug into his spine, but he had bigger problems.

He spat blood after the third blow to his jaw and tried to blink dark spots of his vision. Alastair looked down on him with the lean look of a predator. His smile betrayed the enjoyment he took in his work.

“Contrary to what you might think, I’ve never killed a cop before,” he said. “Just a cop’s wife.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction. Alastair’s smile deepened. He raised a bloody fist to finish his work, but he winced and weakened with a shout as a knife embedded deep in his thigh.

It was Cas’s knife that you’d found on the ground.

Alastair’s angry eyes looked down and met your scared ones. You let go of the knife and scrambled back. He backhanded you roughly. You cried out and fell hard on the pavement.

Alastair reached for the knife, but Cas grabbed it first. He twisted as he yanked it out, then jabbed it into the taller man’s neck. It choked his scream as he stumbled back. And yet, even that didn’t manage to kill him.

Cas dove for the fallen gun. It was mere feet away from where he’d forced it out of Alastair’s grip. Cas felt a hand grab his shoulder. He reacted fast—he turned and shot two rounds of hot led into Alastair’s gut.

His gray eyes went wide. Blood gurgled in his mouth.

And slowly, Alastair slid to the ground.

Cas was bloody, his shirt stained and torn, but he was still standing with ragged breath. You had managed to sit up, though your shocked eyes were trained on the body you’d just seen fall into a heap. The horrific spell of it broke when Cas gently touched your shoulder.

You gasped and raised your head.

“It’s okay,” he said, reaching a hand to you. “It’s over.”

Cas escorted you back to the police barricade. There you found Sam, and the mere sight of him relieved you so much you didn’t realize you were crying when you stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight and asked if you were all right.

You couldn’t give him an honest answer, but at least you were alive.

“I’m okay,” you said tremulously, but you pulled back at grasped his arms. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam looked anxious as his gaze flit between you and Cas.

“That goddamn idiot, he went in there! They won’t let me through—”

“What?” Cas said incredulously. “Into the warehouse?”

Your tears fell anew as a new frantic worry took hold, churning in your stomach and making you feel sick. You turned, and both Cas and Sam had to stop you from heading towards the warehouse.

“Get him out of there!” you cried. “Dean!”

You tried to push past Cas and his attempts to calm you, but you stopped the moment you saw him…

Dean was helping John limp out of the warehouse. Jody was on John’s other side, supporting him as well. John looked beat to hell, and exhausted, but there was no mistaking the calm look on his face. Like he’d finally sleep tonight.

Dean, on the other hand, looked pale, haggard, and worried. However, his head perked up as soon as he heard your voice. His eyes widened. He turned to Jody to make sure she could support John on her own, and she nodded at him.

It let Dean make his way straight for you.

Sam and Cas finally released you, like a horse waiting to bolt out of the stables. Your tears blurred your vision as you went to him.

When Dean swept you up into his arms, you were able to throw yours around his neck and cling to him for all you were worth. You buried your face into his neck and sobbed your relief.

You wouldn’t know that Dean’s eyes were shining and red, his mouth trembling slightly as he sucked in a breath and held you as tight as he dared. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, over your wild hair. His lips pressed to the side of your head as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, when he was able to speak.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, though his question prompted you to pull back and find his face. Your heels came back to the ground, and you reached up to stroke his cheek and search his gaze.

“What about you?” you asked tremulously. “Your head?”

“’M fine,” he said. Though the truth was, he was reeling. His ears still rung from the bullet that hit Daniel between the eyes.

The weight of that decision was almost too fresh to be real, but it was heavy on Dean all the same. He could even get in legal trouble for this. He wasn’t supposed to have entered that building. Hell, he’d picked up a gun and shot a man.

Though he already knew what Sam would say.

Justification. Imminent danger. Self-defense.

Dean just didn’t know if that would fly here, especially with the Fire Department.

Right now, however, you were his lifeline. You grounded him in reality when you held his face in your hands. Just beyond you, he could see the relief on both Sam and Cas’s faces.

Dean gave them a smile, but he focused back on you. He held your hand to his cheek.

“Promise me you’re gonna stay put for a while,” he quipped. “Preferably where I can see you.”

You scoffed at him through the tears glittering in your eyes.

“Dean Winchester, if that isn’t the most hypocritical thing that’s ever come out of your mouth!” you said, punctuating your words with a slap on his chest.

“Hey!” he protested, but you ignored him. You gripped his shirt and felt the Kevlar underneath. It might’ve protected his chest, but he hadn’t had anything to protect his damn head.

“You run into fires, not bullets, you idiot,” you said, now wiping frustrated tears from your cheek.

Dean’s tension began to ease with a smile. He held you more securely, pulling you flush against him.

“You sound like Bobby,” he teased.

“Good!” you snapped. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that. Do you hear m—?”

He didn’t think he’d ever miss you giving him shit, but this time, it just made him smile until the corners of his eyes crinkled. Shortly before he cut you off with a searing kiss.

You made a sound of surprise, even as you gripped at his shirt, then his face to keep him there. You both knew this night was long from being over. An even longer way from recovering.

But for now, this was a good start.

AN: And so, we're drawing near to the end. 🥹 What did you think of the respective ends of Nick and Daniel Savage, and even Alastair? And of course, her and Dean's reunion. 💗

Soon (this weekend), we have the epilogue...

Next Time:

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he took your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little...

Keep Reading: THE EPILOGUE

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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#Sacrifice #Smoke Eater #Part 19 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #john winchester #sam winchester #Castiel #zepskies writes

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heeliopheelia · 1 year ago

Text

"this is not your fault" (jake x reader)

genre: angst, fluff word count: 0.8k requested by nonnie ♡

warnings: crying, mentions of an argument

You check the clock for the nth time this night. 3:32 am. With your throat tight, you turn on your side, somehow unable to find a comfortable enough position on your couch. The guilt has been eating you from the inside for the past two hours.

You're well aware that you're the one who was in the wrong for the whole time. It took you three hours to let go of your pride and stubbornness and finally acknowledge that. All the yelling and mean words you spat on your boyfriend keep running over your mind like a broken record and you have to cover your face with your hands to try and somehow block these thoughts out for even couple minutes.

There are no excuses for your behavior, you know that. No bad day at work, no matter how frustrating, should ever make you snap like that and take all of the increasing tension out on your boyfriend. Jake has always been nothing but patient with you, calmly enduring your mood swings and every tiniest outbursts of yours. Which is why you feel such resentment towards yourself for hurting him this much.

You're facing the backrest of the couch, eyes squeezed tightly as you try to force the tears to stay unshed, so you get really caught off guard when you feel a fluffy blanket draping over your body.

"You're gonna catch a cold, silly," he mumbles quietly, thinking you're asleep.

He carefully tucks the blanket around your shivering body and your heart swells in its size at his kindness. The second that you hear him shuffling away from you, you swing your legs to the side and sit up on the couch, trapping his waist in between your arms.

"Don't go," you let out a whimper, letting all of the tears flow down your cheeks.

And he listens to you. Jake doesn't move an inch, hating to see you suffering so much. He's already used to dealing with your pride, and although he can't say you didn't hurt him today, he hates witnessing you breaking down even more. He can clearly hear the shortness of your breath as you sob quietly, fingers clenching tightly on his tank top.

You stay like that for couple minutes - you clinging onto him with all of your might, face buried in his stomach as his fingers gently comb through your hair. After another moment, he finally loosens your grip on his middle and crouches down in front of you, letting you snuggle into his neck instead.

His lips press to the crown of your head lovingly, hands holding you closely to his chest as your tears soak through his clothing.

"I'm sorry," you mumble incoherently, sniffling between your words. Your breathing comes out sharp and stuttered but Jake's hand still stroking your hair slowly starts to soothe you. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, this is not your fault alone," he says, leaning his chin on your shoulder before placing a kiss on your neck. "I could've been more understanding too."

"No, this one's entirely on me," you manage to say as you clench your hands on the back of his tank top. "And I'm really sorry, Jake. Please forgive me. I'm never gonna let my frustrations out on you, I promise."

With a sigh, he pulls away and cups your face in between his slim fingers. Your tear-stained cheeks glisten in the dark room and Jake wipes them away with the back of his hand, leaning in to kiss your brow bone warmly.

"I forgave you the second I left the room. I came to check up on you cause you haven't come back to bed, love. If I knew you were here wide awake for all this time, I would've come and get you sooner instead of letting you cry in here all by yourself."

"It's what I deserved, Jake. How do you even still put up with me after all this time?" You ask, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek softly. "You're so sweet. Way too good for me."

"Don't say that," he scolds you gently before leaning in and pressing your lips together. His kisses are slow and so full of love that you find yourself on the verge of breaking down again. You can feel his fingers swiping underneath your eyes, getting rid of all the tears that have managed to escape your eyes again. "No more crying, okay? Wanna go to bed now? We should probably get some sleep."

You nod your head, letting him wrap his arms around you and lift you up. He pulls you closely to his chest and pecks your head, muttering a quiet love you in your hair.

As all of the previous guilt and self-loathing slowly starts fading away, you catch yourself falling asleep the second your bodies hit the soft bed, safely tucked in Jake's arms.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin

#carly's 1k event ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა #1k event: requests ✎#jake sim x reader #jake imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader

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blackhairedjjun · 8 months ago

Text

love flew away - k.th

pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: soft angst, amicable breakup, boxer!taehyun | word count: 1.1k | warnings: mentions of food and alcohol, pet names (love), heartbreak

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompts - OVER?: after a mutually reluctant (and unwanted but necessary) break-up, the sender calls/visits the receiver and tells them that they’re still in love with them. + VOICEMAIL: sender leaves a voicemail on the receiver’s phone after failing to get through to them, and reveals their love for them. (requested by @probably-too-obssessed - "Also the prompt says mutual break up for Over but can it be tweaked to Taehyun breaking up with Reader for some unavoidable reason instead? Tysm and I'd be happy with whatever you write! Congrstulations again!")

author's note: hello!! i'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, taehyun is the one who initiates the breakup with the reader but it's still friendly on both ends...? so yeah haha. also i listened to love flew away by laufey & adam melchor as inspiration for this and i got carried away and wrote 1k, oops. but i hope you enjoy!!

taehyun took you out to dinner on your last day as a couple.

had it not been for the breakup he had decided on a week ago, it would have felt like just another blissful date with him. he ordered all your favorite dishes and asked about your day as you waited for the orders, his wide eyes shining with affection while you chatted on. his hand rested on top of yours on the table, warm and inviting, his slender fingers intertwining with yours halfway through the meal. and when he smiled that adorable little smile of his in between his silly remarks, you felt your heart growing light in your chest.

the evening finished off with a little wine, and you drank just enough to keep your senses while bathing the rest of the evening in the haze of a dream. and with taehyun squeezing your hand and gazing at you with shining eyes, you really did feel like you were in a dream that you couldn’t wake from.

he wrapped your jacket around your shoulders as you left the restaurant and waited for a cab. he linked his arms around yours and stood close by to keep you from swaying too much, and the warmth of his side kept you grounded.

“my flight leaves early in the morning,” he said.

“i know…”

you turned to him and were surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. taehyun didn’t cry much, but he looked at you so solemnly that the gravity of everything began to crash down on you. you met his gaze and when you touched your cheek, you realized that your own tears were starting to fall too.

“y/n…” he grabbed both your hands in his, giving them a firm squeeze. “i’m sorry i had to do this.”

you attempted to croak out another “i know,” but your voice broke before you could get the words out. your tears flowed so much that your vision blurred, and you choked back a sob.

he moved forward and held you close, one hand patting your back gently and the other still grasping onto your hand. you buried your head in his chest and sobbed as you inhaled his scent for the last time. he wore the cologne you had gifted him for his birthday, fresh and musky but a little sweet, and the memory of the gift made you sob harder.

the two of you said nothing for several moments. taehyun repeated another “i’m sorry, love” into your hair and squeezed you a bit tighter. the top of your head felt damp as his own tears fell more freely.

you had remained calm in the week since he announced the breakup; it had been a perfectly rational decision that suited the both of you. taehyun was moving overseas to continue training for his boxing career, and he knew that you had no intentions of moving with him when your own career was starting to take off. he hated the thought of a long-distance relationship that neither of you wanted, and just imagining the loneliness and the arguments that would result from it made him shudder. so when he proposed that you two break up while you were still on good terms, you agreed.

it makes perfect sense, you told yourself; if you had stayed together, you both would have been unhappy. but now, sobbing in his arms and feeling his heartbeat for the last time, a different kind of unhappiness wrapped around you. already you could feel the cold of not having him by your side, the silence from not listening to him chatter about something he had read, the emptiness of losing the man you loved with your whole being for two years. you held onto him tightly, as if doing so would keep the future would coming and let him stay.

when your tears finally subsided, you lifted your head to meet taehyun’s eyes. his forehead rested on yours and he lifted a hand to brush away a lingering tear from your cheek. you closed your eyes, savoring the small act of affection, and he leaned in for one last kiss.

his lips felt gentler on yours than they had ever been.

一

you barely slept that night, and in the first hours of the morning you and taehyun exchanged your last texts goodbye before he was due for his flight. he had left for the airport with his training team, no outsiders allowed, so you wished him farewell from the solitude of your room.

your emotions came in waves in those hours. just when you thought you were finally at peace with the end of your relationship, the ache in your heart would start up once again, and the pain filled your senses so much that it would keep you from sleeping. the flood of emotions subsided for good only later that morning; your energy crashed and you fell asleep in an instant despite the bright sun outside. when you awoke it was already well into the afternoon.

you lifted your head from the bed and reached for the phone on your nightstand, barely getting up to do so. taehyun usually sent you a text as soon as he arrived somewhere new, and though it made no sense to expect one from him 一 as of today, he and you were no longer a couple 一 your heart still jumped in expectation out of sheer habit. maybe, just maybe, he had sent one last text... one more “one last”...

what you did not expect was an unread voicemail.

you pressed to listen, and the sound of taehyun’s voice alone was enough to bring you to tears.

hey, y/n. so i finally landed here... i tried calling you but you didn’t pick up. i just wanted to tell you thank you for these last two years. i wish we had more time together but... (a sigh.) i was happy, i really was. you have no idea how amazing of a person you are... you’re incredibly caring, you brighten people’s days, you always listen to me and you work hard not just for yourself but for the people you care about. including me... and i hope that you, well, you stay the amazing person i fell in love with. no, i know you will be. and i hope you’ll be happy always. um, that’s all... (his voice breaks.) no, that’s not all. i love you, y/n. i love you.

#txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt x you #taehyun x you #kang taehyun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #taehyun imagines #txt angst #taehyun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤#bhj: violet's works

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simp-ly-writes · 10 months ago

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Chapter Two: Trust

Can be read as a standalone: Personal Hell Series (pt.3)

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

Summary: As the days pass-by with your stay in Hazbin Hotel, your relationships with the guests only grow. New faces beside old from histories past as you navigate the options that this new chance at living provides you.

Warnings: 5002 words, mentions of violence Nonconsensual touching and mental health, possible gore and death.

A/N: this one is action packed people, buckle your socks on and turn your crocks to athletic mode- we are moving this plot forwards!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

When you wake up the next day and sit at the bar, half-listening to the new set Angel Dust is performing later tonight as you swirl you fresh cup of tea, dipping your biscuit ever so gently and watching the ripples that your actions create. Becoming lost in the small pattern you summon forth your blade, standing on the bar top as Husk voices his complaints while grabbing the cloth once more to clean up your mess.

Charlie comes running from underneath the stairs screaming, your blade is pointed to the direction just behind her, teeth bared as you growl in wait. “Woah, woah, woah, there hotstuff- what has you so turned on?” Angel Dust comments, stopping their vivid descriptions for the moment to observe your attacking stance.

“Everyone! My dad just called and I have a meeting with heaven-or well Adam!” Charlie announces as your shoulders fall, blade dipping and eyes going wide. You shake your head furiously annoyed at the King's decision- she was going to be torn to shreds if she went to that meeting. “Princess, what exactly did your father say?” You question, now sitting on top of the bar as your legs swing slightly back and forth.

In that next moment Charlie ignores your question and breaks out into song as Vaggie chases after her, “I can do this! This will be a happy day in hell~” “Charlie, this is only a meeting,” her girlfriend resorts but the princess is unlistening as she runs out the front of the door, dancing her heart out, twirling around lamp posts and before you know it, she is out of sight.

You place your elbows to your knees, head in your palms as you grip out the remainders of your hair. “Husk- I am going to need a glass of wine” “coming right up.”

Lucifer had locked himself away in your study once again, a remaining staff member placed a tea set in the small living room before exiting. The King sat with his back to the door, tinkering away with his latest installment of duck- this one would read out the first chapter to your history book. Tinkering with the voice box and animating the feet to walk in circles, the King rested his head against one of his hands, eyes turning closed, “Chapter One: The Fall…”

The King did not know he had fallen asleep soon afterwards, day and night mixing together as every waking moment appeared as dull as sleep. But at least when he rested, in his dreams he saw you, waiting there for him, wanting to hear about his latest inventions and revolutions. You never bowed nor kneeled for him, only sitting beside him with bright features and not a speck of stress.

Yet this latest dream world he found himself slipping into while sitting at your desk, the duck all long forgotten to the shiver that ran down his spine. Ghostly finger tips trickled lightly down his shoulders and spine, coaxing it to relax as he hummed out- stretching to receive more like a needy cat. He relished these touches, it was as if these hands knew of every vein in that area- sparking them to light as he practically buzzed with content. Yet the touches got lighter and lighter before becoming only a drifting thought, an illusion that had the King shivering cold when he awakened once again.

You did not know how this video camera had been placed in your hands but you followed every command that Vaggie ushered, from angle to the zoom, you were practically a breathing tripod as you filmed each section to the new commercial in production.

The camera shook as you did your best not to laugh at the dead-panned look that Husk was giving you down the lens, rolling his eyes as Vaggie yelled “action!” once again as you listened to the tape roll. Alastor leaned down beside you, watching the small screen with a humm, “I still think radio is better- don’t you?”

“Cut! What the fuck, Alastor. I already told you- no talking while filming!” Vaggie outbursts while crossing her arms and tapping her foot rapidly against the carpeted floors. “Ah well all the more reasons that show how useless this technology is,” the Radio Demon responds before turning around and slipping into the shadows without a trace. “Action!” is yelled to the set once more as you stand still, awaiting the princesses return.

Charlie comes back through the Hotel doors, turning around to shut it softly behind herself as tears slip silently down her cheeks in frustration. She knocks her head against the wood before groaning and turning away, jumping up slightly in shock as Vaggie pulls her into a hug. “How did it go? Did they listen?’” Vaggie questions while pulling away and grabbing her hand, walking them both over to the sitting room where the rest of the hotel's inhabitants wait.

As the Princess tries to come up with lighthearted words to convey the utter disappointment she faced during the meeting, her stumbling of words is overshadowed by Vaggies excitement as she pulls them down to a couch in front of the television. “Alastor pulled some strings and it is about to air.”

“I pulled a few limbs too” Alator teases out with a dry laugh, you stand beside his chair and pluck a hair from his head as he whips his head around, a smile growing in menacing size as your’s mirror his own. A joy fills you to the brim watching as it falls and he faces straight once more.

“You guys made a new commercial?- thats, that's amazing!” Charlie states, tears welling behind her yellow eyes as your own crinkle at the edges. But just as the commercial begins to air, the news channel flickers over top with a screeching woman yelling, “BREAKING NEWS” over the still image. “Extermination day is coming sooner than expected as the hour glass falls faster than ever-seen before, be prepared because death is coming to us all in the new year!” the announcer comments before the screen fades to black.

Everyone looks around at one another before Angel Dust lets out a singular, “Well fuck.” That leaves the whole room laughing, partially at the blunt tone and the other for the impending doom that haunts every minute that ticks by.

After some much needed sleep on the recent news, Charlie calls every down for a team meeting back in the sitting room. “Well… we are just going to have to work faster and try harder- team!” Charlie states while standing up in front of the group, clapping her hands together in order to hide the trembles knocking around her skin. She bites her lip, a small drop of gold falling and burning the run below as Vaggie wipes the rest away.

“Charlie, you are a great friend you know but all of hell is losing their complete shit after the broadcast- even my boss,” Angel Dust comments as his phone blows up. You watch as the Spiders head fluff furrowing into itself, their fingers quickly moving across the screen to reply.

“Well sinners are desperate… desperate enough to try anything just like this hotel!” Vaggie adds. “That is an amazing~ idea!” Charlie replies, now jumping on the heels of her feet as you rub your face tiredly, sipping your tea as you observe the scene playing out before you. Angel Dust pats a seat beside them, sticking up their leg as you cringe back in disgust.

But just as you are about to take that next sip, the wall behind you blows out, pieces flying around your head as your cup shatter and you swear out, “fucking Hell. Can’t even drink warm water without someone pissing in it.”

Your angelic spear appears in your hand without a second thought as Alastor teleports beside you, a sinister smile dictates the static electricity ringing through the air as every hair on your body stands at attention. You call for the Princess to retreat with Vaggie and Angel Dust as the Radio Demon rises with his coffee in hand, pissed to see the stain left on his tailored jacket.

Sir. Pretentious commands the vessel, hissing violently as he points in your direction, “Your powers have grown since last time Alastor, animating the dead I see? Well those powers are no match for me and my egg army- you’ll see!”

“Who are they?” you yell out to Alastor, snapping your fingers for a tentacle to appear from the ground, bursting through the ships window and casting forth the snake's body as they become pinned down by the point of your spear. Alastor hums out, extending his hands forth as a put emerges and engulfs the ship hole.

“No-one important, deer. Such miniscule names only take up valuable space in our minds,” Alastor states before spinning on his heel and heading back inside the Hotel, humming a tune. He only pauses as you state back in a blunt tone, “You did not answer my question, or have you forgotten who I am, Radio Demon? I need the name for records.”

“I did not know you were still working for the King, General. Thought you were dead-no?” the Overlord resorts while inspecting the cuffs of his suit. “What can I say, I live to serve just as much as I die.”

“Sir. Pretentious, is that all?”

“Yes. Thank you,” you finish the conversation with as Charlie yells for you to let the attacker go. With one small cut against the serpent's neck, you watch as he slivers down the hill and back to the city core.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement when you opened the door, mere hours later to find Sir. Pretentious waiting for entrance, his hat in his hands and a few straggling eggs in tow. You roll your eyes, not bothering for a weapon as the man holds up peace signs to make your eyes roll. Charlie allows the former attacker inside as you keep a close watch from behind, taking a place just outside the room by leaning against the main staircase, listening in.

“I didn’t come looking for a fight, when I heard that you were helping people on the picture box- I came straight away!” He hisses out while taking a seat. Charlie lights up like a holiday display as she moves right into bonding exercise while Angel Dust voices his complaints against the entire situation at hand. In doing so, you retreat slowly back to your room.

You awaken to the sounds of hurried slivers dashing down the hall and closing a door to Alastor’s study just a bit too heavily. The Radio Demon was out hunting tonight, what- you did not bother to know, only nodding as he left.

Sir. Pretentious stood with his back turned to the door, a camera he was setting up between the various books that littered the shelf had you growling out in displeasure. “And what do you think you are doing, you absolute snake?”

The door clicks open behind you once more as Angel Dust’s eyes go wide to the scene and the sight of you in night clothing as your skin only slightly peaks out, glowing in the moonlight. “You slippery little shit, working for the ‘V’s’ are you?” the Spider questions out, slamming the door closed behind himself.

Angel Dust throws a punch as you stand back, letting them fight before various footsteps can be heard approaching from down the hall. You pull the pornstar back, locking their arms in your own, “if you wanted to hold me so closely, you only had to ask baby~” Angel Dust purrs out to you as you old fast, face unmoving as Charlie analyzes the damage.

The Serpent cries out, knowing himself to be a failure as he drops the watch from his wright and slams the camera broken by the spine of a book. He sits on the floor defeated as you let go of the Spider- the room now in a still. “Make it quick,” Sir Pretentious states, tipping their head in your direction as you look to Charlie for confirmation.

She holds up her hand as you make no moves to summon forth a weapon. Vaggie and Angel Dust begin their protests as your mind begins to drift off into another memory, fading away from the current as Charlie begins to sing a song of forgiveness- it falls dead on your ears.

You find yourself in the dark void once more, the ground before you ripples, matching the patterns found in your teacup from mornings before. The dripping of water can be heard, growing in volume before becoming that of a waterfall pouring over your head. You gasp from the cold drench it covers you in, clothes sticking to your form as you shiver and grasp to conceal warmth.

You venture forth, as each step you make disturbs the pattern underneath your feet, hundreds of mini ripples how overpower the larger steady ones as a flicker of white in the corner of your eyes has you gasping and turning to meet it. But just before you can it blinks out of existence and reality comes crashing back as the waterfall catches up with you, basking you in its frigid waters once more.

“But sorry is where it begins~” the Snake and the Princess sing out together in harmony as your berings return to form. You stumble slightly, grasping the bookshelf behind you for support as Angel Dust looks over their shoulder, gun falling to their side as they cock their head- a silent asking if you were alright. You only nod once before making a wobbled stand and exit the study back to your room to take shelter underneath the covers. Under their warmth, sleep cannot find you as your eyes stare upwards, glossing over the intricate lace designs covering the canopy bed.

Time had become a blur as a week has already slipped by from that restless night that joined many others. You were fading in and out more as the days went by. Now you were found nearly asleep on the bartop as you listened to Husks baritone grumblings that soothed your ears.

Sir. Pretentious was giving a presentation on his latest invention, the lack of attacks getting on his nerves as he anxiously invented weapon after weapon in his hotel room. Vaggie spoke out against these actions as Charlie was visibly struggling to come up with a learning opportunity from this outburst. “People are being nice because they want you to feel welcomed,” the x-eyed woman states with crossed arms as the Snake hisses out in contemplation to these words.

He looks around the room to find Husk cleaning a glass beside your head as he flips the bird and Angel Dust follows suit. Nifty only mocks his lack of aggressiveness, proving her point by stabbing a nearby bug that has the reptile rears back in fear. “I have my doubts about that…” he finally answers back. Yet these would be the least of his worries when it is announced that Charlie would be taking away his weapons stashes and eggs as Alastor would find a way to house them temporarily once back from his break.

A glass being slammed against the bartop has you standing for attention before glaring at the cat-man when no danger is in sight. “Sleep in a bed, not at my bar,” he simply states before taking in the new boxes of alcohol from the door and unpacking them against the back display shelf.

As you make your way back up to your room, using the elevator as your powers flicker from the lack of rest or sustenance once more. Alastor is there to greet you with a wide, yellow smile when the door chimes open. “You arrived just on time- we are leaving for a meeting,” the overlord sign-songs to you before entering the elevator and clicking the first floor.

You stand beside one another without making any glances, “And why would I do that?” you question.

“I feel as if history is repeating itself- haha!” your eyes roll at this statement before crossing your arms, looking upwards as the numbers tick down.

“You are my new Right-Hand, are you not?” Alastor questions out with a crackle in his voice.

“When did you become royalty? Never thought you to be the type to like being-”

“A-A-Aah!” Alastor tuts out with the wave of a finger, as if mocking a child. You move to bite that finger before feigning innocence with wide eyes fluttering like nothing happens, rejoicing at the terrified shutter that makes its way down his spine.

“So… who are we meeting exactly?”

Alastor provided no further explanation as you followed beside him,a few shock gasps coursed through the street before the Radio Demon silenced the crowd with the raise of a hand. Your back arched forwards slightly, anxious off all the attention in such close proximity- it felt suffocating. A body nears behind your own as your finger curl together in a fist, turning around sharply you see Zestial tilting his head down towards you, his lips curl upwards as he offers a kiss to the back of your hand.

“How art thou, peacekeeper? Thy return could not hast came at a better time.” You smile up at the ancient overlord, your friend older than that of the King and Queen as you unravel your fist. Alastor leans on his microphone, as a light buzz appears in the air, his smile softens only the slightest bit as he leans forward to ask, “Doing well, old friend?”

Yet Zestial pays no attention to the man, attention solemnly on you and your answer. “As best as I can during times like these, you comment on how my timing is good- how so?” You fix the cuffs to your coat as you speak, flicking off small bits of flesh that have been offered to your group as you near a large modern tower.

“An answer yet to be discovered,” Zestial finishes before opening the door for you and Alastor with a small bow as you voice your thanks in return. When entering the lobby, various elevators zoom past you, carrying overlords from far and wide as your palms begin to sweat. You lean towards Alastor, harshly whispering in his ear, “Why the fuck have you brought me here, Alastor. All of these demons would gladly hand me in for favour.”

“And that is where you are wrong, deer. You see that your presence is the least of the group's concerns when extermination is on the horizon. We have souls to keep and screams to feed our ears,” Alastor speaks aloud while pointing to a chair near the top of the table for you to sit at.

Various eyes cast their way over your form, taking in your appearance with greedy eyes and cash-grabbing smiles. They know of your price dead or alive, for nobody was present at your royal funeral. But other than their looks, no actions rose out from the crowd, glued to their seats in wait. You take this as your cue to investigate the room, raking through your mind each of their atrocities throughout history and the tallied souls they keep.

These numbers you count serve as comfort in your head, leveling back on the facts you pride yourself on creating and upholding. Yet the more you find yourself dwelling in the past, the greater your heart aches to return to all its known. All those court hearings you attended way back when that happened in a similar fashion. Just this time you got forced into a seat at the table rather than standing at the judges side, whispering in his ear your opinions to be voiced.

Oh the simpler times, you think to yourself. Those starting moments before you would go on to take over those meetings in his place as Lilith’s pregnancy continued. A slam of the door has your attention swerving back as you grip the table for reassurance.

“Welcome Hell's sovereign overlords. I have invited you all here because you represent millions of souls tied to your very name. Souls that will be taken by the extermination in only a few months time rather than by our own claws,” Carmilla Carmine states, hands casting over the table to point at each individual in the room, her finger swirls overtop your head before she continues.

“We need to minimize the impact and on that matter, Alastor and… General. Welcome back,” she states in a thoughtful tone until the door slams itself open once again as you wince at the holes forming from the impact. A short, pony-tailed woman stands on top of the table, walking over to an extra seat with a phone glued to her ear. You wince at the obnoxious accent she carries, “yes I know Vox-darling, they are ALL a joke. Kisses, see you soon!”

“Nice of you to be joining us, Velvet- will your colleagues be joining us?” Carmilla asks with annoyance coating every word. Velvet rolls her eyes, throwing her phone on the table while leaning forward to cast a series of insults as you look to Alastor and question out, “I apologise for sounding like a broken record in advance, but who are they exactly?”

Alastor’s laugh is projected throughout the room as a head-grinding ring echoes in everyone's mind until the room is silent once more. But just as the deer-man is about to speak, an Angels head gets casted on the table, hopping animatedly before stopping just in front of your hands. Gold pours out from its slashed neck as you wince, going to grasp your own.

“If these holy rollers can be killed, well the game has changed,” Velvet announces, seemingly taking over the meeting as your head cat's back and forth between the two women like a tennis match.

“We not know how this perished. May it be not by a demon's hand after all. If we rush to war- they purge all of Hell,” Zestial retorts while sipping his tea loudly, he casts his eyes between you and Carmilla worriedly of your reactions just as the table erupts to their own smaller conversations on the matter at hand. But just as Velvet shoves a finger his way, Carmilla's chair scratches against the tiles, grating your ears once again as Alastor’s twitches in displeasure. “You have no respect…” Carmilla starts with before entering a lecturning display against the smaller woman's apparent arrogance to the room's guests.

You applauded Carmine’s performance as she casts you a split second smile before Alastor adds on, “That was a productive meeting, now we really must get going, who knows what Hell has spawned at the Hotels door this time-hm?” You nod once in reply, going through the room to shake hands with everyone, even Velvet who wipes her hand on her shirt afterwards, looking you up and down for a second as your eyes begin to flicker red for the faintest second until Alastor throws you both through a door back to the Hotel’s lobby.

You were not surprised in the slightest to find the Hotels events room staged with a BDSM act. Blinking twice before entering the room, a tall feline figure wrapped their tail around your waist, purring in your ear as you stood still, glaring at Angel Dust. Alastor had left you in his dust the split second after seeing into the room but you were glad to see Vaggie pulling Charlie away from a pervy succubus- hell bent on having the royals attention.

The feline’s eyes narrowed sensually in your face as they curved around your figure tighter, a claw of theirs drifted its way up your arm and towards your neck. Elbowing them in the gut, their groan of pain was the only pleasure you had found in that room before Vaggie announced another way for the Hotel to build trust in one another. You looked towards the Princess at the mention of this, catching her eye for a moment before stepping through yet another door way- this one led you to a burning battle ground.

Screams emerged from every crack and crevice as your hand twitches, readying yourself for an attack. Vaggie appeared to hold no qualms while an arrow just skimmed by her head, Charlie yelled out in horror- eyes flashing red before the demon that ceased to exist behind the group. “This is where I learned to build my trust, and I will see to it that you ALL find the same,” Vaggie announced while pointing her spear to each and every one of you.

In the next moment, hotel guests were being thrown over the wall and dispersed into the war zone below. You sat on the ledge, waiting to step in as an anxious Charlie sat beside you, swinging her feet back and forth as she winced at Angel Dust’s apparent enthusiasm to gutting a man. Vaggie was a prominent force on the field, you smiled watching someone command such strength- helping others and with these thoughts in mind, your head tilted towards the Princesses and you spoke.

“Thank you,” you start with as Charlie’s eyes meet your own, narrowing the slightest bit to show her confusion. “What are you thankful for?” She asks, her feet still kicking as she searches your eyes for an answer.

“For being the person your mom would respect and the person I wished to be if only I held more strength. Thank you, Princess…” you trail off with as tears spark in your eyes, Charlies feet still, falling against the brick wall as she looks away from you, her eyes squeeze shut as her own tears mirror your own.

“What were they like?” Charlie timidly asks, “What were they like before me? I read your journals and books, yet they never brought me any closer to understanding- they feel like such different people now…” She trails off, the wind picking up her golden strands as a few stragglers hit your face.

You lean forwards, trying to catch her eyes once more as you state, “Both your mother and father were wonders to behold- time will never change that…” your voice trails off, trying to choose the right words and describe the correct moments for a time like this. “I did not truly know them for my first century in hell but on that day when a raven that would soon become my own descended from the red skies above- ushering me forwards- I allowed them to. They were spirited even with their dreams taken away. The Queen held onto enough hope for the population of Hell as your father sculpted her every word, it was the only beautiful sight to be held in Hell and the first demons could only respect them for it. Without their leadership, their sacrifices…”

You struggle to continue as Charlie's eyes dart around, trying to come up with a new topic of conversation. “Why did you call my parents by their titles, why do you address me as such? You all were friends- were you not?” Charlie asks while playing with her hair, she is shy about this question before hurriedly speaking up once again, “It is is personal-erm, private! It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me!”

You laugh at her cuteness before holding up a hand to stop her rambles, “I was still a servant to them-'' Charlie bursts out into laughter, she grips her chest as tears form around her eyes again, “Now THAT is a lie,” she states while wagging her finger in your face as your face falls to one of confusion.

“My parents LOVED you, they just loved you- simply put. Not as a servant, not as a child or friend. They fell in love with you… and it was when you died, that love they shared died too…” Charlie takes a deep breath as you are at a loss for words, eyes wide in processing the information. “...you may not know this but my mom began to hate you, hate that even with you gone, you were somehow a consistent presence. She-she told me one day that even I made her remember you along with some other words and a week after that she left… a-and I haven’t seen her since.” Charlie cries out, falling into her lap as her breathing becomes staggered.

You rub up and down her back, humming out to soothe the girl as she grabs your white jacket, knuckles turning white. In muffled tones, she still speaks, “my dad loves you- still does I am sure of it, even when we do not speak he always shows it. You were the last topic we talked to each other before I left… the last time we hugged…”

You lean your head down, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair before pulling it out of her eyes, “I am sorry, Princess Charlie…”

“I am sorry too…” Charlie picks herself off, her smile flickering at the edges as she fixes her hair, “next time my father is around, whenever that will be… promise that you will at least look at him even if he does not notice. You deserve to see yourself loved, I am sorry for what I made you blame yourself on and sorry that you ever thought to be only admired for your work- I am ever guilty of it among many others.”

You nod your head, agreeing to her words without being able to find your own. The battle gradually slows from underneath your feet as Alastor comes to greet you all- a feast he has prepared back in the Kitchens as the group cheers, dropping their weapons and hugs emerge. Everyone chats, celebrating their victory as glasses chime in tune. You raise your own towards Charlie as she tips her to do the same.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @tati-the-fangirl @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @amarokofficial

#luficer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes

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lev1hei1chou · 10 months ago

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Trip To Malaysia

Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 775 Synopsis: Nanami moves to Malaysia with you PART 1 PART 3 Masterlist

The dust settled in Shibuya, and amidst the chaos, violence and destruction, Nanami Kento stands tall, having survived the disaster in Shibuya. The battle was fierce, the losses immeasurable, but somehow, Nanami emerged as the victor. As the city slowly rebuilds in its own pace, Nanami finds himself needing a break desperately, a opportunity to breathe and heal.

You, his partner, have been a irreplaceable presence in his life. As time passes, Nanami realizes that it's about time for a change – a fresh start far away from the painful memories that that take up a huge portion of his thoughts. After thorough consideration, he proposes a trip to Malaysia, a place neither of you has ever been to before.

The plane lands in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and the warm air greets both of you as you step out onto the airport. It's quite the stark contrast to the chilly aftermath of the Shibuya Incident, and Nanami seems to welcome the change with a full heart. The decision to come to Malaysia wasn't about escaping from the past. Instead it was about discovering new beginnings.

You both settle into a cozy hotel room in the the city, surrounded by the lively culture and the hustle and bustle of Kuala Lumpur. The unfamiliar sights acts as a soothing balm for Nanami's hurt soul, and he welcomes and appreciates the chance to explore a place untouched by curses and battles.

Days turn into weeks, and you find comfort and happiness in the simplicity of daily life. Something that was not a guarantee in your world, that was filled with curses and uncertainities. Together, you walked through the bustling markets, tasted local delicacies, and learnt about the traditions of Malaysia. Nanami, known for his reserved persona, surprised you with his curiosity about the places and traditions.

One evening, as you stroll through the colorful streets of Kuala Lumpur, Nanami spoke up. "This place is quite different," he muses, scanning the vibrant lanterns hanging overhead. "It's a change I appreciate."

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "Sometimes, change is what we need the most."

The weeks turned into months, and the routine of daily life in Malaysia brought about a sense of calmness to Nanami's troubled mind. You both befriend your neighbours, then the locals, learn the language, and even learn to cook some traditional foods of the place. The days are filled with laughter, quite different from the battles you left behind in your homeland.

One afternoon, as you both relax on a beautiful beach, Nanami opens up about the past. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was like music to your ears, as he shares the burdens he carried from Tokyo, in detail. You listen, trying your best to give him as much comfort as you could, grateful for the trust he places in you.

"I never thought I'd find peace like this," Nanami admitted, his gaze fixed sun setting in the horizon. "Malaysia has a way of healing all the wounds I never knew I had. And I'm glad I could experience this with you."

You lean onto him, resting your head on his broad shoulder and nod.

As the months pass, Nanami and you create a new life in Malaysia. The memories of Shibuya fade, replaced by the vibrant tapestry of your experiences in this foreign land. Together, you face the challenges and joys of adapting to a new culture, and the shared adventures strengthen the bond between you.

One day, as you both stand on top of the heights of the Petronas Towers, Nanami turns to you with a soft smile. "Thank you," he says, his eyes filled with a newfound sense of contentment. "For being with me, for giving me a reason to live on and appreciate new experiences."

You cup his face softly in your hands, gazing into his eyes with pure love and adoration. "Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey and for allowing yourself to heal."

The skyline of Kuala Lumpur was breathtaking to look at. As the sun sets, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you realize that sometimes, most of stories involving healing begin with a single step into the unknown. All one needs to do is take that step.

In Malaysia, amid the diversity and the warmth of the lovely people, Nanami and you discover a love that goes beyond the numerous hurdles of the past. Together, you build a new chapter, leaving behind the wounds and pain of the past, and welcoming a future filled with hope and endless possibilities.

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laviefantasie · 11 months ago

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You’re Losing Me

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Summary: Is love truly enough? Enough to stick around even when you feel yourself slowly dying from it? Can it truly ever be enough?

| Masterlist |

She couldn’t breathe. She could feel her lungs pushing against her ribcage while looking for the oxygen they begged to inhale. Her heart throbbed against them, looking for any sign —no matter if it was painful— to remind itself that it still lived. That it could still beat.

She didn’t think she could blame her heart for the need to make sure it could still beat, not after the words she had just uttered to the reason it had been beating so harmoniously for so long.

“We’re done”

She didn’t even know she had said it until she saw his eyes widen in disbelief. She didn’t even know she’d ever truly have the courage to say it out loud.

But she had. It was done.

“What—why? Y/N, baby, what’s—I don’t understand”

Hurt. That’s all she could see on those blue-green eyes she had always found comfort in. Those who had always looked at her with so much love it had been unbelievable. Those eyes who lately hadn’t shined in her direction even once.

She could hear her pulse all throughout her body. She could hear it as loudly as if her heart had been pressed against her ears.

Could she truly say it again? Could she be brave—strong enough to utter those painful words one more time? Did she really have to?

“We’re… we’re done, Eren” she weakly whispers.

It pained her, of course. It truly felt as if she was forced to talk after swallowing glass, her throat and mouth filled with blood that stopped her from formulating the words as loud as she should’ve.

Eren shook his head in disbelief. Everything in his body felt numb. It felt as if someone had thrown a cold bucket of water at him and left him outside during winter with not even a jacket to give him a sense of warmth. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t understand why it was happening.

“I don’t understand” he whispers weakly “I don’t… Y/N, please…”

“The fact th-that you don’t understand” she sobs weakly, the tears she had fought so hard to contain flowing freely down her cheeks, “Is even mor-more reason why we must bre-break up”

“Did I do something?” He asks, tears accumulating in his eyes “What did I do? I ca-will fix it”

She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to hear him.

All this time she had been wanting him to fix what he had broken. All this time she had been waiting for him to realize that he was hurting her. That loving him was killing her. All this time she wanted him to give her one reason to stay.

And all this time he hadn’t.

“You can’t fix it”

Her voice once soft and weak became hard and pained. All the hurt she had to endure this last year coming back full force, giving her the strength she needed to save herself from self destructing. The strength she needed to not give in.

“It’s too late to fix it” she finalizes “I’ve been waiting all this year for you to fix it. I’m done waiting”

“Y/N—”

“Do you know how hard it was to watch you push everyone, including me, away?” She sobs “How hard it was to watch you shamelessly flirt with every girl that looked your way while I was right there at your side waiting for you to notice me? How hard it was to see you shrug off our relationship, our friendship, as if it was nothing?”

Eren’s eyes widen even more, if possible. Had he truly been doing that? He knew he had change, he knew he had closed off on his friends after his parents passing, but they had never once left his side. She had never left his side. No matter how hard he pushed. Or how cruel he was.

And then last year he had gotten his shit together. She had helped him with that. He had pushed all his pain onto something productive and had become the university’s star quarterback.

Is that when it all started? When his dull grief-striking eyes and neutral face had become the bad boy mysterious persona every girl wanted to date and every boy wanted to be. Was it then when he decided to play along to all of it just to not feel alone, to feel worthy, forgetting what he truly had always had by his side?

Had it really come to this? Had he really taken for granted what he had by believing he always would have it?

“We—I would’ve stayed with you through anything” she continues “I stayed through everything. No matter how bad it was. But… I’m out of reasons to stay”

“I love you”

Three words. Three words he had never once uttered in that year. Three words she had remembered herself those 365 days to keep fighting.

Those three words had already lost its meaning.

“Loving isn’t enough anymore”

And she turned around going for the door. He scrambled out of the bed he had been sitting while looking up at her as fast as he could.

She couldn’t leave. If she left it became real. If she left he wouldn’t be able to fix what he had broken.

Had he really broken the best thing that had happened to him? The one thing in his life that still gave him hope?

He tried to grasp her hand, to stop her from leaving, but she had already opened the door and crossed it. His hand met the wooden frame as her body started making her way through the hallway, away from his dorm.

How had it come to this?

It had been a year after Eren’s parents death through a tragic car accident. A year since Zeke, Eren’s older half-brother, had taken his custody. It had been a hard year. Eren’s eyes had lost its incomparable spark and his smile had ceased to exist.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N, his closets friends since childhood, along with the rest of their gang had done everything they could to help him. Even when he snapped at them, spitting cruel words that fed into their insecurities, they never left his side. He pushed and pushed with all his might, anything to keep them away in fear of ever feeling the tightness in his chest of losing someone he loved again. But they pushed back. All of them. Never once giving in.

They knew he was hurting. They knew it. And they would never leave his side while he did so.

So they stuck around no matter how hurt they got along the way. Because it was Eren, and Eren deserved to have people fight for him as hard as he used to fight for them.

Y/N became the best fighter among them.

She would take his cruel malicious words with grace before embracing him against her warmth, letting him let out all his anger and sadness on her. Promising to carry it on her shoulders in hopes of lifting some from his, as small as the portion was.

And day by day, night by night, she stood tall by his side. Never once letting him fall.

He was thankful, even when he didn’t voice it. She had giving him something constant, something he could hold onto when the waves that came crashing towards him in hopes of drowning him got to him. She kept her hold steady and unfaltering, keeping him afloat.

So, when had he started taking it for granted?

“Eren Jaeger, isn’t it?”

He had been waiting outside the Economics classroom for Y/N’s class to finish so they could go have lunch when the captain of the cheerleading squad Historia was a part of first spoke to him.

It wasn’t that people didn’t know him around university, they did with him being the quarterback, he just wasn’t someone that you would think was easy to approach. So people normally didn’t. Not that he minded, he had all he needed with his friends and you by his side.

He nods, coldly.

But she smiled. As brightly as possible, her hazel eyes shining under the hallway’s lights.

“Last week’s game was amazing! You were so fast, it seemed nobody could ever come close to catching you” she giggled.

His cold demeanor melted slightly, not used to compliments from other than his coach and friends. Most people just clapped him on the back as a way to congratulate him, too afraid to say something to him.

He nods again in thanks.

“We, the cheer girls and the team’s boys, were thinking of holding a small get-together to celebrate the win” she continues “We’d like you to come. We know you don’t like those sceneries, as you’ve made clear before, but Connie and Jean are going. Reiner and Bertolt too”

He stays quiet.

“Just wanted to formally invite you. Hopefully the rest of your teammates going, the ones you’re actually close with, persuades you”

Before Eren can refuse, the bell rings and the door he was standing beside bursts open. Students cross it without even batting an eye.

Eren’s eyes soften once he catches a glance of you and the bright sincere smile you send his way when you see him. All under the cheerleading’s watchful curious gaze.

“Ren” you kissed his cheek before looking at the girl he was talking to, “Chloe! Hi! I haven’t seen you in a while, still battling with Calculus?”

The blonde girl, Chloe, groans, “Ugh, Mr. Ackerman is still the worst”

Both girls share a laugh under Eren’s curious gaze. Did they known each other? For the laugh you just shared and the familiarity in which you talked with one another he guessed you did. How? He guessed that through a class since he hadn’t ever seen you hang out with other girls that weren’t Mikasa, Sasha, Historia or Ymir.

“You know each other?”

His voice is cold and dull, but his gaze on you is soft. So soft that Chloe isn’t sure she imagined it. She didn’t know he could have a gaze as soft as that with the cold lifeless way he glared at everything around him.

And yet, Y/N smiled as if he had just told her she was the most beautiful girl to ever exist.

“We do! We met during Ackerman’s Calculus class last semester”

“This little genius became our teacher’s favorite while I am stuck with him once more” the blonde beauty groaned.

“You’ll get it this time. I can help you”

That’s something he had always loved about you. The selfless way you tried to help everyone in every little way you could.

“You’re an angel, Y/N” she smiles “How do you two know each other?”

Y/N’s smile brightened if possible, “This is my adorable boyfriend that I’ve told you about”

Chloe’s eyes widen in disbelief, “Eren Jaeger is the all-loving charismatic too-good-to-be-true childhood best friend told lover you’ve told me about?”

You laughed before nodding making Chloe’s eyes widen even more.

For Y/N, Chloe’s face was funny and innocent. Eren, on the other hand, understood the gleam of uncertainty in the blonde’s eyes. It was obvious she was trying to comprehend how the perfect boyfriend you had describe was the university’s feared lifeless bad boy.

It made him angry to feel as if he wasn’t worthy of you, he already thought so himself so seeing someone else think that made his blood boil.

He wanted to prove to everyone and to himself that he was worth it, that he could be worthy of you. So he did the one thing that condemned you both without even knowing it.

“When’s the party?”

The party had been eventful and unexpected. None of their friends had expected Eren and neither had they expected the way he had behaved that night. He had drank and talked, and even though he hadn’t laughed or smiled he had become this unapproachable guy that now everyone wanted to approach.

His aura was intoxicating. And like a moth to the flame, everyone would fly towards him as if he was holding the matches.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N had watch with uncertainty the amount of attention Eren was receiving. But moreover, the way he seemed to be bathing in it. It was a weird sight. Eren had never been one to want attention, he always got it without looking for it though. But he had never seek it.

So why was he seeking and bathing in it now?

“Well…” started Armin “At least he seems okay”

Y/N nodded a little uncertain, but Mikasa frowned.

“I don’t like this” she muttered “Feels like the start of a disaster”

“Don’t frown, Mika” Y/N said lovingly, “Maybe this is what he needs to open up more. He’s been getting better, so maybe… maybe this is his way of trying to go back to who he is”

“I don’t know”

“We have to trust him” Armin added, “It’s not like he’s doing anything bad anyway, he’s just making friends”

Mikasa’s frown deepened but she let herself be guided out of the living room towards the kitchen by her two closest friends. She had a bad feeling about all of this, she just hoped she was wrong.

But they had all come to know a long time ago that Mikasa’s instincts were never wrong. Especially concerning Eren.

The first time they realize that something was wrong was during their monthly movie night between the Scouts, as they like to call themselves since their camp days where all they met and became friends. It was that night that Eren first truly disappointed them.

[ Can’t make it. Party at Floch’s. Srry ]

That’s all his text to the group chat had said. Not only had he totally blown them off on their tradition, but he hadn’t even bother to invite them. It was maddening. Especially since Connie and Jean were also invited to said party and refused to go because of their plans.

It weirded them all out. If they had invited Reiner and Bertolt and they cancelled they could’ve understood, they were close but not that close.

It had always been Armin, Mikasa, Eren and Y/N until camp. And then it had become Armin, Mikasa, Eren, Y/N, Jean, Connie, and Sasha. More had been added along the way, but the seven of them were as tight as possible. Nothing could ever come in their way, so why did it suddenly feel like something could?

They spent their movie night in an uncomfortable silence. Not even Jean, who always took every opportunity he could to insult Eren, said something.

And then one movie night missed became two and three until they just stopped expecting him to come.

At university, Eren barely found them to spend time with them during his breaks or lunch as they were used to. Instead they were forced to look for him all throughout the campus, always finding him surrounded by other team members or cheerleaders.

And even then, Armin and Y/N tried to convince themselves this was just him trying to become socially available once again. No matter how many times Mikasa told them she didn’t believe that was the case.

Their disappointment reach its breaking point when Armin received an ‘SOS’ text from Mikasa asking him to go to their dorm, only to find a dolled up sobbing Y/N on the dark-haired beauty’s embrace. Eren had missed their anniversary date to hang out with Floch. Y/N could’ve probably let it slide if it hadn’t been for the any times he had already cancelled —and stood her up— before.

That was the last straw for Armin.

He had seen you, Y/N, his childhood best friend give your all to the blue-green-eyed boy. Since the moment you both had met Eren and Mikasa, you had always given all you could give to Eren. Especially the last couple of years when he had started to become unstable. You had never given in. Never had you left him alone, no matter how many reason you’d had.

So what gave him the right to make you cry?

Armin never again excused his behavior after that night. Him and Mikasa always standing beside you as you had to endure the attention from girls Eren was receiving, especially when he seemed to enjoy it so much. More than once had they offered to give him a peace of their minds, begged you really, but you had refused. You didn’t know what was going on through his head but you had faith in him. Faith that he would figure it out and fix it, as he had always done before.

You had waited for the whole year.

Your last straw came on your birthday. Just a month after Christmas, which Eren failed to celebrate with the Scouts again in their traditional small gathering on the 25th.

Your friends had all prepared you a surprise party, which they had planned through a secret group chat in which Eren had failed to text back every time. The party was set to start at 10 o’clock at night at Armin’s house, giving you enough time to spend the morning as you always did with your family and the rest of the day with Eren, as they all had been used to since you two started dating exactly five years ago when both of you were fifteen. It was perfect, honestly, you’d be too distracted with the brunette boy to find suspicious why they all had been MIA.

Except Eren didn’t show up at your doorstep. He hadn’t even called or texted.

Which meant you spent the rest of the day before the party locked in your room crying silently while you wondered why.

Only to find out through Floch’s instagram story he was at his house, with an unknown girl under his arm.

By the time Mikasa had gone to pick you up at your childhood home, you were asleep on your bed with swollen eyes and dry tear and mascara stains on your cheeks. She had gasped at the sight, not understanding what had happened. At least until she saw what was on the phone —which was still unblocked— you held softly in your grasp.

And the dark-haired beauty saw red.

She had texted Armin and soon the party had moved to your living room, and instead of a party they turned it into a movie night. They decorated the place and made a blanket fort, Annie even going as far as going to buy some fairy lights to put all over the place.

By the time Sasha went to wake you up and helped you get ready, all of them hid awaiting your arrival.

It had helped heal your broken heart a little.

Still you couldn’t ignore what had been going on for long enough anymore. You had finally ran out of excuses.

So the next week when Armin went to the dorm you and Mikasa shared, you knew. And they knew you knew. So they held you, all day and night, trying to give you the strength you’d need to do what was right for you.

And you did.

And that’s how you’d both gotten to this stage of your story. As painful as getting there had been.

Eren fell to the floor. His knees had given out. He had been frozen on his spot, watching the door intently as if that would somehow make you come back. He thought he had been doing the right thing, he thought he had finally start becoming someone worthy of you. Someone that deserved to be loved by someone as good as you.

He was sobbing. He didn’t even know when he had started, but his body shook with the force of each sob.

He didn’t know what to do. How could he keep going without your unwavering presence beside him giving him the strength he needed to fight back against the cruel world they lived in?

That’s how Armin found him when he came back from his classes. Hugging his knees to his chest on the floor as he sobbed his heart out.

“So she actually did it, huh?”

His teary gaze found his best friend’s stone cold one.

“I d-don’t… Ar-Armin, I don-don’t unders-understand”

“You don’t understand?” He scoffed, “You missed every single movie night we’ve had for a year. You’ve missed every date you guys planned. You missed your anniversary, Christmas, the New Year. And you don’t understand?”

Eren stares, dumbfounded. Had he truly missed all that? He couldn’t even remember properly at this moment.

“You even missed her birthday” Armin continued, “It was last Friday, FYI”

Another sob wrecks through his body. Your birthday, he had missed your birthday. He didn’t even remember the last time he had ever missed one and now he had completely forgotten about it.

What was wrong with him?

“I truly don’t know what was going through your head all this year. Nor why you did every single thing you did” Armin sighed “I’m just glad she finally had the courage to walk away. You were killing her. Everytime you flirted with another girl, every time you blew her off, you were killing her. I’m glad she finally walked away”

Eren had no idea something could hurt this much after his parents’ passing. But it truly hurt more to know he had lost the person he loved the most when she still was at arm’s length.

Especially when this time there was nothing nor no one else to blame but himself. He had pushed you too far this time and you weren’t coming back.

He had lost you.

#eren yaeger aot #eren yeager x oc #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x oc #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren aot #eren x reader #erenjaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger x femreader #attackontitan #attack on titan #mikasa aot #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #Spotify

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suiana · 1 year ago

Text

he was there, and then he wasn't (various yandere characters x gn reader) (angstober day 3)

he was there when you first met.

helping you up after someone bumped into you, you couldn't help but blush at the handsome male who helped you up to your feet. calling you adorable with that attractive voice of his... wait, did he just give you his number?! is he implying that he wants to see you again?!

he was there when you two went on your first date.

you had decided to meet that cute guy who helped you up a few days back. i mean, what could possibly go wrong? he looked nice enough, talked charmingly... you're sure it would be fine. and if it doesn't, you could just pretend to have never have met him and go on with your life! what's the worst that could happen?

he was there when you decided to confess to him.

okay, so that first date went better than expected and now you two were dating, fantastic. you two were like two peas in a pod, the perfect duo, soulmates even! geez, you wonder what your life would've been like if he hadn't been there. must've been really lonely since you now felt that your soul is complete.

he was there when you moved in with him

your relationship had progressed really well and smoothly! apart from a few bumps here and there caused by his jealousy and possessiveness, everything else was great! he was an amazing boyfriend, loving and caring for your every need, and he was a great cook! what more could you ask for? plus that dick was 10/10.

so when he brought up taking the next step, of course you agreed! it's like being a married couple already hehe ♡

he was there when you two first fought.

okay so you two got into your first little argument... could you guess what it was for? that's right! he got jealous that you were spending more time with another man, aka your coworker!

it was horrible. i mean, isn't he being too possessive? sure, it may be endesring at first but after a while it gets too suffocating... maybe you should bre-

oh and he's already apologizing with flowers and tears in his eyes?! shit now you feel bad :( why would you even think of breaking up with your sweet boyfriend? he's just perfect for you! so what if he's possessive? you can overlook this tiny fact haha...

he was there when he proposed to you.

you couldn't believe it. is this... actually happening?! the love of your life proposed to you?! holy shit you can't control your feelings right now...

and so, you sobbed into your lover's chest, happily telling him you loved him as he chuckles, stroking your head in an attempt to comfort you. all while having natching rings on your fingers, promised to each other forever more.

and he was there when you realised that it was no more than a happy dream.

and it was the day of your wedding. the day you longed for, only for it to be ruined when you were informed that your lover had been caught in an accident, taking his life away.

sobbing your heart out, it felt like the world had come crashing down on you. you had promised your life with him and he just left so suddenly?!

maybe this was the way the heavenly beings above pulled a joke? causing you to meet your soulmate, making you two fall in love, and then taking him away from you at your happiest? whatever it is, you were now crushed, as though a part of you had been taken away.

seriously... if you knew this would've happened, you wouldn't have gone out on that god forsaken day. because while the times with him were the happiest, the times without him now would be ultimately depressing.

for he was your other half, the one who completes your soul. and when he left, he took half of your soul with him.

dazai osamu(?), gojo satoru, venti, childe, welt yang(?), jingyuan, aki hayakawa, your faves<3

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kibblz-n-bitz · 11 months ago

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Tied Up

Summary: Zoro gives you devious backshots

Warnings: Dom Zoro, Mean Zoro, But he checks up on you afterwards, (because he's a true softie at heart), Edging, Restraints, a bit of mind break, rough sex

Words: 841

You yelp as you feel his rough palm collide with your ass.

"Go on," Zoro lands another hit, "Show me how badly you want my cock."

A sob erupts from your mouth as you shift on your knees clumsily, trying desperately to fuck yourself back on Zoro's thick length. It's sloppy and uncoordinated, it's hard to find a rhythm with your hands tied behind your back. You end up cockwarming him, his cock twitching and leaking precum against your walls. You whimper, "Z-Zoro-hh"

Another smack! "Try again."

"Daddy," You warble, desperate to cum. "Please... haah-... please fuck me Daddy please." You squirm against your restraints, against the rope tied around your wrists.

Zoro chuckles darkly at the sight of you. You look pathetic. Moaning and writhing on his cock, your pussy fluttering around his length. He's decided he's teased you long enough, if his leaking cock had anything to say about it. He was just as desperate to cum as you were. It's just... he loved the way you looked when you were fucked stupid, begging for his cum.

Zoro clicks his tongue. "Poor thing..." He sighs mockingly. He reaches down to brush your hair out of your face. You sniffle and look back at him, teary eyed. "You want daddy's cock that badly, huh?"

Whining, you nod, your words failing you. The swordsman had brought you to the brink of orgasm only to pull out and leave you a sobbing mess, repeating the process multiple times. Your brain was fried, only able to babble nonsense or beg for Zoro to have mercy on you. Especially now, with your wrists tied together, you were helpless.

Zoro shushes you, running a hand along your backside soothingly. Surprisingly kind despite nature of your actions. It doesn't last long though, not when he grabs you from where your hands are tied together, pulling you back on his length. You moan like a bitch in heat.

The swordsman wears a wolfish grin as he starts fucking you. Your mind goes blank and your eyes roll back into your head, you're finally being fucked the way you want. The tip of Zoro's cock hits the deepest parts of you, kissing your cervix each time he bottoms out.

"Filthy fuckin' whore." Zoro grunts, huskiness in his voicr giving away the amount of pleasure he was feeling too. "Y're so desperate. Betcha love getting fucked stupid on my cock, huh?"

You twitch in oversensitivity as he knocks your g spot with each thrust. Squirming, you try and lean away from the overwhelming pressure. Zoro growls at that, giving you a harsh tug on your restraints at the same time as he lands a particularly harsh thrust. You cry out, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Quit runnin'." Zoro grunts. He lands another swat at your ass. "You asked for it, so fuckin' take it."

And take it, you do. You could feel your climax approaching as quickly as it faded last time. And, judging by the way he switched from quick, shallow thrusts to long, deeper ones- you were sure Zoro knew it too. Your pussy fluttered, clenching and squeezing around his cock, you were fit to burst.

Leaning down to nip at your ear, Zoro rumbles. "Y'gonna cum?" You sob, nodding and drooling against your pillow. His earrings clink together as he fucks into you. "So pathetic. You can go ahead, but I'm not stopping."

Zoro's rough words combined with the barely-there stimulation of his balls hitting your pussy have you screaming, your legs kicking out underneath you. Zoro groans as your pussy tightens, squeezes, and then gushes around his cock. However he stays true to his word and fucks you through it, barely giving you time to come down from your state of euphoria. "Fuck... That's it- hnnh"

You're whining as you tremble in overstimulation, pussy quivering. The added wetness from your orgasm drips against your sheets. Your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath. Drool drips from your mouth onto your pillow. Your eyes are hazy, unfocused; mind blissfully blank.

Your world shifts and suddenly your flipped onto your back, hands free and legs wrapped around the man above you. He kisses you deeply, passionately, but you're clumsy in reciprocating the act. He pulls back as he rubs his angry red tip through your soaked folds.

"Checking in." He brings a hand to your face, tilting our head up. You look him in the eyes. "You okay?"

You stretch your arms, and nod, bringing them up to wrap around his neck. With a pleased sigh you kiss at his face, and he chuckles. A pleased grumble vibrates from his chest. "Good." He kisses your face again. "Such a good slut for me."

With that, he pushes his fat cock into you again, wasting no time in resuming his earlier pace. He nips and sucks at your throat. You moan and tug at his hair, overwhelming pleasure and warmth coursing through your veins.

"Take it like the good little slut you are, yeah?"

#im so tired #but i HAD to write this #i wanna fuck zoro sooo badly #hope y'all like it :3 #zoro x reader #zoro smut

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alpydk · 5 months ago

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Curtain's Closed

So @auroraesmeraldarose has been leading me down a very dark path recently. One of folds and love muscles...

And then came Tim Downie's Cameo about Gale reading smut. Well, the concept just had to be written, didn't it? So here we have a little mini fanfic about Gale reading smutty fanfic. Quotes have been taken from her fic Professor Dekarios (ch14 for this / highly recommended) - And well, it's a nice evening ending in smut. Enjoy.

Word count - 2061 - M/E - CW - Self Pleasure

Springtime had settled over Waterdeep, the snow having now melted, the flowers in bloom outside the cafe window. He sat with the occult tome, flicking through the worn pages, not particularly interested in the contents. The cortado tasted smooth upon his tongue and the tiramisu he’d ordered had gone down a treat, but his mind, however, kept little to the pages in front of him, nor to the surroundings of the bustling streets that lay beyond the windowpane. Instead, they drifted to the small book buried deep under the stack of research papers, not lost, but selectively hidden out of sight of prying eyes.

It was during his morning at the academy that he’d overheard the conversation between two of his colleagues; the two women giggling and blushing over a recent book that had been going around the female staff. Smut they had described it as in a whisper of a word, afraid that someone might hear it. From what he could tell, it was not a mainstream book, no known author such as Cimber or Ruskettle, but the works of a hobbyist with a passion for those who’d been in the spotlight. He’d tried to hold little attention on the discussion, but the talk of a wizard in a compromising position stuck with him for the following hour as he taught his class. He’d read similar literature about desire in the past; what harm could one bit of curiosity do when it came to smut ?

Professor Karedios – Quite the title and very to the point, thought Gale to himself as he hid in the shadowed back corner of the small muggy bookstore. He felt as if he were a teenager looking for a scantily clad photo of an elf to gaze at in secret, only now he was in his late thirties, grey hairs highlighting his dark locks. Get a grip, Gale. He held the novel within the confines of his loose sleeve, a nervousness that someone might stop him and question him on the contents. Grabbing an occult tome with little regard for what it cost or the subject content, he, at least now, had an excuse to make a purchase of the sultry literature.

The shopkeeper took both the books, and Gale was thankful for the tired, darkened eyes of the vendor which met him. He could detect the faintest hint of red wine, hopefully a remnant of a previous lunch break and not a hidden stash beneath the counter. Either way, it mattered little, as the books and gold were quickly traded between them with little discussion. If he’d been asked, he would have simply claimed that it was for a friend as a humorous gift.

“You think I should wash my beard?” The voice of the assistant came through from a back room interrupting the purchase and Gale’s heart dropped as the books were pulled just a fraction too soon from his grasp.

From behind the desk came the slightly slurred retort, the accent unrecognisable to Gale’s ears. “Yes, I think you should wash it. Then you should shave it off, nail it to a steel plate, and fling it over a rainbow.”

Gale stood confused at the relationship between the two people, simply hoping to take what he’d bought and get out of there. The shopkeeper looked at him with disdain before handing over the books with a sigh, his job now done, the contract of pleasantries over. Gale took the books and crammed them in his bag with a quick nod of thanks before turning as quickly as he could to get away from the disgruntled trader. A note would be made to avoid the premises in the future, unless desperate. As he left the store, his heart pounding in his ears, his bag clutched to his chest tightly, he breathed a sigh of relief that at least the worst part was over.

Now Professor Karedios sat awaiting him, teasing him from his bag. He saw how the lilac cover stuck out from amongst the parchment of a study on Okoth, the outline of the protagonist’s robes calling to him. He’d read the blurb ever so quickly within the store. An alternate universe of a Faerûn Wizard. He was intrigued already, the character on the cover baring a self-indulgent resemblance to himself. He’d not been able to help himself, curiosity always getting the better of him, and he had to find out what lewd secrets were being kept from him. Finishing the coffee, he closed the heavy tome with a thud, no knowledge of what he had just been perusing for so long. All he knew was that he needed a certain mood before he could entertain such a topic as the one that truly held his focus. This would not be a quick night of loneliness within a tent, a potential death sentence hanging above his head; it would be one to enjoy, to savour.

The return to his tower was leisurely, the sun setting, casting long shadows down the narrowed streets, the scent of the sea washing in with the evening tides. He took in each sensation, the sounds of the taverns opening for their trade, the bard weaving sleazy tales from atop the shoulder of Ahghairon’s statue, the passing elf that smiled with a faint blush in his direction. The City of Splendours would forever live up to its name.

His home was empty, he discovered as he closed the oak door and called for Tara, a sly smile emerging upon his lips at the confirmation that he would have the tower all to himself for the night. He took off his cloak, thinking through the steps he would take tonight to squeeze each drop of pleasure from his time alone. He deliberated; was it worth bathing before or after? Though not nearly as tough a worker as his friend Halsin, who toiled through woodland day in/day out, Gale felt the effects of lecturing upon his body, his shoulders especially tensed, and forearms aching slightly from weaving spells consistently in the same manner in order to demonstrate to his pupils. He knew a similar ache would be felt later if he rushed through the planned activities.

He decided at least wine would be an excellent starting point. With a warm red poured, the alluring literature in his hand, the fire burning, and the curtains closed, he laid back in his comfortable armchair with a pleasant sigh.

““Good girl.” He tried to keep his voice calm and light even as her eyes widened, and she bit her lip again in response to his praise. “I’ll see you next time, Helene. Take care.””

Gale smirked at the intense flirting that had been going on between the characters, imagining himself as the professor on the cover. He mouthed the words silently to himself as if in the scene with the young lady, the submissive tone of her character already causing the heat to rise under his collar. The fire, the wine, the book? It mattered little to him, which was the culprit as he flipped ahead a few chapters; the story captivating, but his body growing a little too eager with the aid of the alcohol. He could certainly see the appeal of the type of fiction now, an improvement over the paintings and sketches he’d once glanced at. Now it was left to the unlimited reaches of his imagination, the story acting as a guide to entice his mind and, in turn, his body, hopefully leading him to a more satisfying precipice to tread upon.

“Rayne obliged, taking her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her lips softly, tenderly.”

Now things were hotting up, he thought to himself, the feeling of his trousers growing a little snugger than comfortable. He didn’t want to rush this, but he was frightfully aware of how much time had passed since his last self-indulgent moment. He untied the drawstring above the leather, slipping the trousers and his underwear down enough to release his already semi hard erection. A sip of the red wine gave him a moment to compose himself before he continued.

“Helene hitched her dress up and, without breaking her mouth from his, threw one leg over both of Rayne’s, coming to rest on top of him, straddling his lap.”

The imagery held itself in his mind. He wanted to move to the next line, but the sight of the redhead straddling his lap in his vision caught him, a slight gasp being released as his hand moved around the base of his cock. He breathed deeply, letting his palm lie against his flesh, his self control remaining to savour the story further.

““Please, Rayne… I need you to touch me. Now.” Her voice was desperate and made Rayne’s already hard cock twitch in his jeans; the thought that she needed him like he needed her drove him wild.”

He felt his own cock twitch in eagerness, the dream of his kisses being laid on her body spurring him on. A massaging rub from base to tip caused his heart to beat that bit quicker, his desires trying to escape him with each word. How easy it would be to let himself go as he would have when he was younger. He closed his eyes and whispered through parted lips. Another slow rub before a few more lines could be read.

““Good girl,” he murmured in her ear as her body tensed, “now come for me, my love.””

Gale saw the teasing and the control before his very eyes. He would have conjured her in front of him if he knew his concentration would not have faltered so quickly, but it was too late to take that chance now. An involuntary moan escaped him, a second where his mind collected itself, returning him to reality, and he questioned if anyone would have heard him. He was no longer in the tents on the road, in the Elfsong Tavern, no Tara to be seen; he was alone and could embrace the sensation.

The build up with the fiction was becoming too much for him as he read on; Rayne’s need to give his partner such pleasure, similar to how he would devote himself to a lover. His hand moved quicker, his hips letting out a light thrust against his fingertips with each stroke. He lost track of the words on the page, his mind becoming clouded by his own arousal. He let out a shaky breath as Helene’s hungered pleas caused his cock to throb in his slowly tightening grip, the imagined form in front of him ready to be taken in full.

“Gently, slowly, he entered her....”

He caught little else of the sentence aside from these few words, knowing Rayne’s and his own motions would be similar in nature. Gale’s muscles tensed at the increasing speed of his hand, its movements now instinctive upon his shaft. He could almost hear Helene’s sounds in his head, her soft cries merging with the unrestrained groans of pleasure he was releasing into his empty study. The wine lay half drunk, the pages of the novel shaking gently in his trembling hand as his concentration faltered. He glanced over the paper in front of him, the words no longer existing to him as he pictured himself standing over her, her walls clenching around him. The book was let go from this trembling hand so he could grip the arm of the chair ready for his impending climax, his eyes closed to the dim light of the study, his cheeks flushed with stimulation.

Fantasy was lost to reality as his orgasm hit, a wave of intensity throughout his mind leaving him shuddering and panting for breath within the confines of his tower. The warmth of his seed flowed freely over his hand and he gave a short chuckle to himself; the evening having ended with the satisfying result he had longed for. Professor Karedios had been very thorough in his devotion to Helene, and Gale knew this would not be the last night that he too would be entertained by the pair’s escapades. Despite this knowledge, though, he still sat with the belief that this night had been one of the best he’d had all year: red wine, curtains closed, and a little smut for company.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #shes created a monster

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jamtoro · 7 months ago

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Just a drabble in large part inspired by the first Challengers fic I read by @cybersunnie Content warning for masturbation but this is mostly just mutual pining

- Of course you knew who Art Donaldson was, because, really, who didn't? So why wouldn't you be surprised when he approached you, offering to be your hitting partner for the night?

- You hesitated on your response, a mixture of embarrassment (you were practicing for a mandatory athletics class and were far from being even decent) and confusion (why would he ask you? What did he gain from it?).

- But, still, you agreed. Practicing tennis with Art, the Art Donaldson, was not an opportunity afforded to many beginners (at least you imagined). And despite the preemptive embarrassment, it beat hitting a ball against a wall.

- So, you begin with a backhand warm up before advancing to a rally.

- You miss volleys left and right, and even fall on your ass at some point. But with the cool spring night breeze on your sweat-slick skin and a lack of the pressure you thought you'd feel when sparring with Art, that 10 AM lecture class you have tomorrow feels light years away.

- When you've both had enough (well, you're sick of running after missed balls and you feel bad for making Art watch you flounder) you thank him, trying not to fall into realm of gratuitous gratitude. "I know it's not what you're used to, and it felt like torture at times, but thank you. I had a lot of fun losing to you."

- "You're not terrible," Art says, looking at you. Really looking at you, a soft smile on his face. You open your mouth to protest, but he tilts his head back a certain way as if to say Are you really going to debate me on that? Me? And you avoid breaking into a gigantic grin, but your giddiness is evident.

- You felt drunk on luck. First he offers to be your partner for the night, then he complements you. Well, sort of, but it's enough to make your heart stammer in your chest.

- You'd be lying if you said Art didn't look beautiful under the florescent light of the tennis court, a light sweat above his brow. And the scent of his musk, it could grow addicting.

- and you'd be lying if you said Art wasn't the reason why you continued to practice tennis on late nights. Some nights you saw him practicing with someone, sometimes he was alone, sometimes he showed up after you, but most nights you practiced alone. But lighting can strike twice, you told yourself.

- It took until the night of your last final, but thankfully eventually Art approached you.

- "Most people leave as soon as their last final's over, but you're still here," He says. "Summer classes," is all you manage in return. You force a barely there smile with pressed lips. You're wrought with tension.

- "There's a two week bre--" "Can you teach me tennis?" You cut Art off, the words basically stumbling out of your mouth. "I can pay you whatever, and I won't whine, and I know you have your own practices, but I just want you. I want to play tennis with you."

- It's bold and you know you're asking for a lot. You hold your breath as you wait for an answer.

- Art pauses in consideration, turning your words over in his mind. And your heart twists like a wrung towel as you watch a faint smile tug on one side of his mouth. "If you can win against me, I'll coach you."

- Your mind goes into hyperdrive with inquiries. Why would he say that? Does he really believe I could beat him? What happens when I lose? Does he have to be this cruel? Am I too desperate? Is it obvious? And before you could even begin to verbalize such a question, you see Art setting down his tennis bags on the far end of the court.

- "Are you gonna go easy on me?" You yell from the other side as you stretch your upper body.

- "How could I assess your abilities as your coach without seeing how far you'll go?" Art asks when he finishes a set of side lunges.

- yeah, you're gonna lose.

- And at least it's not a humiliating loss. You've definitely improved since the first time you and Art played, even managing a point here and there (but deep down you feel like Art let you have those). And even though you've lost two of three games, you're laughing, you're joking, you're having fun. Even though you approached Art so seriously, so desperately, you can't take yourself seriously, not in earnest, even when playing for something as coveted as a Summer with Art. And you can't even hate yourself for it because you feel so free.

- "I won't torture you with the idea of a rematch, so thank you for playing with me." You say, hand extended as you walk towards the net. "I'll still see you around, right?"

- But Art doesn't respond when he shakes your hand. He kind of just stands there for a moment, shaking your hand in a trance.

- Within Art, something shifted, or clicked, rather.

- No stranger to desperation, he recognized it in you, saw himself reflected in your curious eyes. And though he expected himself to be more repulsed by your desperation, each volley blunted the edges of such an emotion.

- And it helped he saw what Tashi loved about tennis within you.

- Maybe you could've been great if you had more than a casual interest in the sport, or if you had started in the single digits like the rest of the college athletes, or if you stopped blowing rasberies and laughing everytime you hit the ball into the net. But you didn't care about greatness. And to Art, it almost seemed like you didn't care about winning him as a coach, not for lack of trying, but because you became someone else on the court. You found a liberation that Art could only dream of. A liberation that could only be afforded to someone who's highest aspiration is the intermural leagues. Your relationship with tennis, with your opponent was more self-serving. This was less of a relationship and more so voyeurism.

- And that appealed to Art in some capacity.

- "I mean, you played pretty well, considering," Art finally says, returning to himself. "Do Tuesdays work for you?"

- It scratches an itch to be wanted. Even if it isn't by the person you want.

- Art reminded himself of this, like a mantra, on the first night he cums to the thought of you. A late night tennis session turned mildly risqué with an absent minded question ("Do you think some people use rackets sexually?" You asked before the stream of laugh that followed due to Art's flusted expression) was all Art really needed to follow through on what was a burgeoning feeling.

- On one hand, Art struggled to remember why he's keeping himself from you. He's already this close. You never shy from his touch when he corrects your grip on the racket. You don't seem to mind sharing towels or water. And he feels the way you watch him, even when his back is turned.

- On the other, he's kicking himself. Even though he's only your senior by a year and he's not an official coach by any standard, it feels wrong. Especially when he's the catalyst in Tashi and Patrick's teetering relationship. You were meant to be a scapegoat if Patrick and Tashi got messy and Art's culpiblity was revealed. You were not supposed to stay.

- But being wanted is like a drug. And the thought of your mouth on his, along his body, around him, is irresistible.

- He knew, as he watched his cum thin out and disperse in the shower stream, that this wouldn't be the only time he came to the thought of you.

- (Should he feel ashamed that he's wrapped around your finger, too, even though you're the one who wants him so obviously?)

- Art leaves the locker room without looking in the mirror.

#my very first post and very first published fic #challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #challangers fic #challengers smut #VERY LIGHT SMUT MIGHT I ADD but its there #jamtoro #no beta we die like men #art sweetie (sweaty) i am so sorry if i did you wrong i promise to watch challengers again once i get paid

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