#Fifth grade was a different time man

[shayminlucario07]

I've just had a really dumb idea

So, I was watching HalfBreadChaos' video on "What is in the Closet Dark World", and when I saw Spamton Neo, I got hit with a realization.

The Mettaton NEO shell that Spamton wears looks a lot like it's made of paper. Specifically, it reminds me of the little dresses drawn on and cut from paper that we used to make for paper dolls in elementary school. (Niche reference, I know, but they're pretty self-explanatory- basically just mannequins made/folded from paper. In my classes in particular, we made versions that were folded paper cups or frogs. It was weird, and also cute.)

HalfBreadChaos, in that video, suggested that the plan for the Mettaton NEO body- which most of us have accepted to have been created by the ghost who became Mettaton in Undertale, Napstablook's cousin (The one we jokingly(?) call Hapstablook)- may have been something drawn on paper, as opposed to a deleted/forgotten file from a paint program, or something along those lines, which many of us thought in the past.

Well. If it WAS something tangible, as opposed to a file from a paint program... it would probably be a drawing on paper. And as HalfBreadChaos suggests in their video, if the basement of the castle is the space between the cabinet and the floor, this drawing, or plan, may have been slipped under the cabinet.

Why is that important?

The only other papers in that room (Aside from the books that Berdly and Noelle brought with them) are the printed-out emails in the trash, which are almost certainly spam emails. And that trash can is the trash zone, where Spamton makes his home. He does sleep in a dumpster- and hides in the dumpster to give us the Thorn Ring for Noelle. So, perhaps the reason he prizes the Mettaton NEO body so much is because, in the Light World, it's the only paper in the room that isn't in the trash- still discarded in a way, possibly even forgotten, but not thrown away; not labeled as valueless.

Does this mean anything? Probably not. But it's a thought I had and I wanted to share it.

[yuwuta]

RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here

word count: 2.2k

part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here

The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 

He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.

And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 

The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 

Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 

The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 

He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 

He never needs to. 

For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 

Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 

When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 

A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 

He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 

He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 

Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 

And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 

Oopsies. 

“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 

Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 

You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 

“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 

“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”

Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 

“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”

Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 

“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 

“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 

You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 

“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 

A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 

Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 

Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 

“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.

“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 

“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 

You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 

Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 

It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 

“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 

You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 

Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 

Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 

Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 44. dangerous entanglements

content warnings: smut, dirty talk, lots of teasing, praise, fingering, oral (m. receiving), oral (f. receiving)

YOUR FATHER WAS A GREAT MAN.

You knew he had his faults, like any other parent, you supposed. Maybe sometimes you felt pressured by the expectations that weighed on your shoulders, but your dad deserved some credit for consistently making an effort for your sake. 

For your fifth grade promotion, it was your dad in the very front row, beaming brightly with his camera even though your mother was nowhere to be seen. It was your dad that attended each and every single science fair and spelling bee that you participated in, and even if you didn’t win first place, he would celebrate each one. It was your dad that helped you pick out clothes for your first date, which you were extremely nervous about and ended up swatching three different eye shadow palettes on his arm. 

It was perhaps the lack of effort from the parents around you that made you appreciate your father just a little more. You were well aware that Sunghoon’s parents weren’t the same; they hadn’t even sent flowers for his graduation. The only time they celebrated his accomplishments was for events where they could use publicity to their advantage. 

So who were you to complain about your path being carved for you when it had been so generously laid out at your feet? How could you protest when you were promised realities that few could only dream of?

Maybe dreams were just dreams. Foolish idealizations that you were meant to bury under the sand and forget about. When it came to your purpose, a dream was worthless. That was why you pushed it down your whole life, suppressing every selfish desire until it curled around your ribs and made it hard to breathe. 

And you supposed that Jay was the one who left you vulnerable enough to slip back into those dangerous dreams. 

But things were different now. Sure, your dad hadn’t yet accepted the future you wanted for yourself, and you were far too scared to confront him about it, but he had already given you freedom for the summer. You just had to get him to warm up to the idea, that was all. 

When he called you to his study, you weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe he would talk about the ceremony for Sungjin, or maybe he would tell you about how golfing went. Regardless, you were itching to ask him what he thought about Jay; it was his approval that you sought out the most, after all. 

As soon as you walked inside, your dad glanced up and closed the folder he was reading from. You were greeted with a warm smile. You realized you were still by the door, twiddling with your fingers before walking over to his desk. 

“Is Jay settled in the guest bedroom yet?” he asked. “You should bring him an extra blanket. I heard it gets cold in there.”

He was asking about Jay out of his own accord. That had to be a good thing, right? You were afraid that your dad wouldn’t think Jay met up to a certain socio-economic level that he expected, but you had hope that Jay’s personality would blow all of that out of the water. 

“Yeah, he said it’s great. I’ll—”

“Did you bring your notebook?” 

An all-too-familiar chill traveled down your spine. You placed the moleskine notebook on the desk, as he requested, and you sat at the chair across from him. None of your memories associated with this notebook were fond, and you attributed most of your bad memories with your father to the very object. 

You were given the notebook at a very young age. The instructions were quite clear; all you had to do was jot down whatever your father asked you to, follow it religiously, and never lose the book. 

It was a strange practice, but you never complained. Something about writing down information to remember it better, but you weren't quite convinced that was the whole reason. It felt more to do with your father wanting to feel as if he had some control over your life, like the notebook was his tool to set you on the right path. 

Initially, it was simply a resource for you. At a young age, you often struggled with social anxiety whenever you were dragged along to some upper crust event. The notebook was a gift from your father after hours of being scolded by your mother for your shy behavior and awkward responses. He provided pages of generated responses for you to practice and certain important names you had to remember. It was helpful in the beginning.

Then, he added more to it. You suddenly had a section of people to avoid, people who were of no value to you. There were only a few names there at first—people who had gotten involved in scandals, people who had the intent to scam, people who had a bad reputation—but then your father had you write in a name that threw you for a loop. 

Kim Sunoo.

It was around high school when you started feeling worse about the notebook. You were always encouraged to associate with Park Sunghoon, so your dad was naturally pleased by your growing friendship with him, but when he found out that Heeseung was part of your group, you had to walk around with the guilt of writing your dear friend down as someone who was meaningless to your future. Expendable.

“Now, I have some edits I’d like you to add in.” He paused to adjust the reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Do you have a pen?”

You begrudgingly grabbed a ballpoint pen from his pencil holder. “Ready.”

The first few names mentioned were from the Order. (Stay close to Song Eunseok—his parents are government officials; be on good terms with Ning Yizhuo—her dad owns a steel company; be friendly but don’t worry much about Shin Ryujin—her dad’s a casino owner.) He always gave you some rundown about their families, how they’d prove to be useful connections, and then you would have to just trust your father’s judgment. There was never room for you to go against his words.

Then, he pushed a piece of paper in front of you. 

Your heart sank.

Jay Park: Rebound from Sunghoon. Temporary fun. Won’t last past graduation. 

There was something furious inside you, and it sank its icy jaws right into your heart. You felt your blood pumping, drumming in your ears so violently that you almost couldn’t catch him telling you to copy the words into your notebook.

You stared unblinkingly at the words, horrified. “I thought you liked Jay.”

“I do,” your dad insisted with an earnest nod. “He has a bright future ahead of him, and we had a great game—though I think he could practice his swing—but just because I like him doesn’t mean he’s anything more than a friend to you.”

You spluttered, outraged. “More than a—what?”

“Y/N, I don’t want this to upset you, but guys like Jay might seem fun and exciting at first, but you and him are from completely different worlds. He’s not gonna mesh well in our world.” He spoke to you in a gentle yet firm voice, but there was a condescending undertone that made your skin crawl. “You don’t see it now, but you’re gonna do great things in the future, and you need to be with someone who can match your standard.”

You knew he was hinting at Sunghoon. Your father took the news of your breakup strangely well, but you were certain that he thought you and your ex-boyfriend were simply on a break. Yours and Sunghoon’s family had constantly pushed for you two to get together from a young age; it was almost as if you two were destined to be together, but now it was clear to you that he just happened to be from an accomplished family. 

But what on Earth was your dad spewing about Jay? He often spoke about your feelings on your behalf, but he never genuinely tried to understand how you were feeling. 

“Dad, it’s not like that,” you tried, meeker than you had hoped. “I really want this to work out, like, I think I finally found someone who makes me feel the way you do about mom.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you realized that it probably wasn’t the most ideal comparison. Your stomach only sank deeper when you saw your father’s eyes harden, clouding over with some unrecognizable emotion that made you falter. 

“And look how that turned out,” he said sadly, hardly louder than your voice had been. 

You overstepped. 

It was as if that rage inside of you subdued at once. It shriveled back immediately, and you tried to reason with yourself. 

It wasn’t anything to worry over. Your notebook was only for your eyes, so writing empty words wouldn’t do any harm. It wasn’t like your father’s mind couldn’t be swayed; you managed to convince him to take you off of the Mercy Health internship, so you could definitely get him to warm up to Jay. They seemed to get along well, after all, so it wouldn’t be an impossible feat. 

So, you gritted your teeth and copied down his dreadful text word-for-word. This time, you weren’t quite sure if this was all worth your father’s smile of approval.

Your meeting with your father sapped all of the energy right out of you. You dragged your feet all the way up to your room before remembering that you were supposed to bring Jay an extra blanket.

And, never mind that, you were also supposed to have a very important talk with him. This was something you had actually been anticipating, too, because he was the one who offered to have a discussion. You felt like you were floating high up in the clouds throughout the day until you spoke with your father.

As you made your way down the hall, your heart raced. Deep down, you knew that nothing felt right about keeping this from him. You needed to tell Jay, but then wouldn’t he resent your father and steer clear from you? You couldn’t screw this up before it even started. 

Jay opened the door only seconds after you knocked. He was wearing the suit he was planning to interview in, and you remembered him mentioning that he wanted to tailor the parts that didn’t fit as well himself. Immediately, the nonchalant façade you were trying to put up had shattered at your feet, and your throat felt thick with emotion. He gingerly took the blanket before gesturing for you to come inside. 

“Your guest bedroom’s huge,” he started after closing the door. “This is bigger than my—” Jay stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed you wiping at the corners of your eyes. Sincerity dripped from his tongue, like honey. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You had been trying your hardest to bottle up how you felt, but you always happened to wear your emotions on your sleeve around him. 

“Come on, what’s wrong?” he pressed again, this time craning his neck lower so that he could make eye contact with you. As much as you tried to avoid his gaze, Jay just took your forearms gently and turned you to face him. “You can talk to me.”

You weren’t going to tell him. You couldn’t. He would just pull away from you again, and you didn’t want him to slip from your fingers.

Somehow, you always felt so anxious about him leaving you. It almost felt like it would be inevitable; the closer you got to him, the harder you had to hold on to keep him by your side. The discussion with your father only cemented that fear—the kind of fear that got deep inside your skin and dug a grave. 

“No, I’m always crying around you. It’s embarrassing.” You used your sleeve to wipe your eyes. “I was crying the first time we met, too.”

The corner of Jay’s mouth picked up in a grin, and he simply brought his hands to your face so that he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “It’s not because of me, right?” When you didn’t respond, he pulled back to catch your expression, eyes wide with shock. “It’s because of me?” 

“Not completely,” you tried, but Jay was already taking a seat at the edge of the mattress and letting his head hang, as if he was reflecting on his past actions. “I just”—you took a few steps closer to him until you were standing between his legs—“feel like you’re not really here sometimes.”

His calloused hands gently held the back of your knees as he looked up at you. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we feel the same way about each other, and I feel like there’s something there, but you always pull me in and push me away whenever we get too close,” you said. It was honestly shocking that you were even able to frame the words that you couldn’t even string together in your head. “What is it about me that’s making you hesitate?”

Jay swallowed thickly. For a moment, he just stared at you, unblinking, and you were afraid that he was going to run away from you again. Then, he slid his hands up to the back of your thighs and pulled you down to straddle his lap. Your cheeks heated up when you remembered being in that exact position in your hotel room in Monaco. 

“It’s not really something I can explain right now,” he murmured. “I just—the person I am right now isn’t ready to be the person you need me to be, but it feels impossible to stay away from you.”

“I don’t need you to be anyone but yourself,” you insisted. With a frustrated sigh, you went on, “I’ve basically been taken advantage by most of the people in my life, and you’re the first guy to make me feel like I’m worth more than my last name. I don’t want all of this”—you gestured to the space around you—“to make you feel like you have to live up to some expectation.”

“It’s not that, Y/N, I—”

“Then what is it?” 

“I told you, I can’t explain it right now.”

“Well, if you can’t tell me, then what’re we even doing?” Exasperated, your voice broke. That was all it took for your tears to start spilling again, and even though you willed them to stop, you couldn’t keep them from pooling at your waterline. Jay simply looked agonized as he struggled to form coherent sentences. “What is it, am I—am I that hard to want?”

You couldn’t quite catch Jay’s outraged expression properly with the way your vision was blurring, but the tension between you two was unbearable. You could feel his grip tighten around your thighs upon hearing your words. 

“No, it’s easier than breathing.”

You sucked in a breath and shook your head. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be talking about this before your—”

It all happened quicker than a flash of lightning. One second Jay’s thumb was rubbing circles on your tear-stained cheeks, and then his soft lips were pressed against yours. 

Jay kissed you.

He kissed you.

There was a violent storm in your chest, and it left strong gusts of passion and a torrent of arousal in its wake. It appeared that Jay, too, only felt the weight of his actions after pulling back to look at you. His eyes were searching yours, a little helpless, but you could tell that they were clouding over with something fiercer. 

“I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered—a failed attempt at forced conviction. His lips were inches from yours, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. With little self-restraint, Jay leaned in once more, leaving gentle, chaste pecks that grew more and more fervent, his hesitancy ebbing away as he did. “No, no, no, no—I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You couldn’t do this either. A voice in the back of your head kept telling you to backtrack, to tell Jay what being together would mean for him right now. But his interview with your father was tomorrow; you couldn’t unnerve him right before it. Despite your internal conflict, however, it was hard for you to focus on anything but the curve of his lips.

A bubble of fear dared to burst as your vulnerability bled through, but all you knew was that you wanted more—no, you needed more. 

His gaze was still piercing, and you knew exactly what he was asking. Although your voice had been wavering up until now, you never sounded more sure of yourself when you said in a breath, “But I need you,” and something primal inside Jay snapped. 

He sealed his mouth over yours again—hot and slow—and the way his hands roamed your body wasn’t pure in the slightest. He pulled you in by your waist, dragging your clothed core against his thigh, and then his bruising grip found its way to your hips.

You felt feverish.

There was something intoxicating about the way Jay kissed you. He was precise, like he had mapped out exactly what he wanted to do to you beforehand, and he saw to it that you were fully satisfied. Although you two had all the time in the world, there was a sense of urgency in the way you held the back of his neck. You wanted all of him before you couldn’t have him at all.

You heard a low rumble in the back of his throat. The sounds he made were so addicting that you grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged, rousing another groan from Jay before he proceeded to slip his tongue past your lips. 

Jay pulled away to kiss down to your jawline, leaving small pecks down the column of your neck and the expanse of your collarbone until he found that perfect spot that stole the breath from your lungs. He sank his teeth into your shoulder, inciting a yelp that he muffled with a chaste kiss. 

Then, he was pulling down the front of your shirt, kissing as much exposed skin he could find. You moaned softly as you rolled your hips down against him, but Jay was still focused on ravaging your chest. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he rasped again, practically growling against your skin, “but I can’t think straight around you.”

Your nerves felt like they had been lit aflame. You had fantasized about this moment for a while, but you never anticipated that Jay would be so forward, so desperate. Despite that, though, he was still gentle in the way he kissed every inch of your skin as if he worshiped your body. 

You drew back to hurriedly pull your shirt over your head. Jay eyed you with a hunger in his eyes that couldn’t be satiated, but he seemed to regain some of his conscience when he threw a nervous glance over his shoulder. The door was still unlocked, but you weren’t worried about anyone walking in. 

“Here? Are you sure?” he asked. He kept his eyes trained on you as you tossed your shirt to the side, then hooked your fingers in your waistband to slide your shorts down, then your thong (which he ended up tearing in half). His hands traveled up your sides, and then he moved to unhook your bra. “I told you we couldn’t do this.”

“We can’t, or you won’t?”

“We can’t,” he insisted, firmer this time, although his eyes were unfocused, “but I’ve never been good at standing my ground when it comes to you.”

“Good,” you started, slipping your bra off and letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, “you’re a dream.”

Despite your burning cheeks, you ignored his praise and continued, “I want you to stop caring about everyone else and just pay attention to me.”

His eyes were hard when he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he said, “and you might not be able to sleep tonight.”

“Prove it.”

He stared at you, almost like he was enchanted, and his hand crept up your inner thigh. “C’mere.”

You thought Jay was going to pull you back on top of him when he took your hand, but he ran his hands up to your hips and left hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thigh. You gasped, pressing your legs together because your core burned with arousal, but Jay looked up at you through half-lidded eyes.

He stood up, making you take a few steps backward. Jay loosened his tie and unbuttoned his coat as he walked you back into the wall. You took that as your cue to push his coat off his shoulders and carefully undo the buttons of his white button-up. 

“Careful,” he said in a low voice, “they’re hanging on by a thread.”

You weren’t sure how rough you were handling his clothing, but you swore you heard the sounds of fabric tearing while you were trying to undress Jay. He gave you a look of disapproval, but once you let it drop to the floor, neither of you cared about the state of your garments anymore. 

And, oh, did he look heavenly; you hadn’t noticed it much before, but his broad shoulders and sculpted chest made you feel like you were going to be ruined. His body was truly something else. You were almost certain it belonged behind velvet ropes at a museum, not brazenly on display before you. You ran your hand down his abs, making him draw in shallow breaths because of your featherlight touch.

“Want me to make you feel good?” he asked in a low voice, lips at the shell of your ear. You short-circuited and let out a pathetic, breathless sound, which Jay only cooed at. The pad of his thumb ghosted your bottom lip. “You’ve been waiting, yeah?”

“Well, I’ve been waiting, too,” Jay continued, “and I’ve been waiting for so long that I’m scared I won’t hold back. Think I’d break you.”

You let out a whimper so pathetic that your cheeks burned with shame immediately after. Jay smirked at your reaction, pushing you further up against the wall. You two were now chest-to-chest, and he experimentally rolled your nipple between two fingers, watching how your face twisted in an attempt to keep quiet. 

“I think you should just break me, then.”

“Should I?” He hummed, pausing to look you up and down. “Want my fingers or my mouth?”

“Both?”

You received a smug grin in response. “Good girl.”

He lowered himself to the ground until his lips were near the apex of your legs. You felt your heart hammering in your ribcage.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he observed, experimentally breaching your cunt with the tips of his fingers. “How often do you think about me, baby?” 

His words ripped through your body like an inferno. “I… I don’t—”

“Don’t what? You don’t think about me?” he asked, and he didn't look like he believed you at all. You shook your head in protest and he grinned. “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“I’m not telling.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just get it out of you.”

The Order member had a wicked side to him, you concluded. Jay stood up once more to look you in the eye. Despite his gentle tone, he slid his pointer and middle finger into your cunt with a suddenness that made you grab onto his shoulders. You inhaled sharply when his thumb found purchase on your clit, and his gentle murmurs of encouragement didn’t exactly match the unforgiving pace his fingers were pumping inside you at. 

As if that wasn’t enough, Jay started kissing up your inner thighs again. He littered your skin with kisses and bruises, which you hardly noticed because you were too focused on the way his fingers curled inside of you.

Every mewl and whimper spilling from your lips only seemed to encourage Jay further, and it was only a matter of time before he experimentally dragged his tongue along the folds of your cunt. You let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself by gripping his hair. Coupled with the pace Jay fingered you at, you were almost worried that he would actually break you by the end of the night. He was so tedious and meticulous about the way he pleasured you, gauging your reactions and intensifying his ministrations whenever he noticed you were enjoying something. 

A certain desperation clouded your eyes once you felt that familiar warmth blossoming under your skin. Your arousal was all but rushing in your ears, so loud that you couldn’t even think about anything but the undeniable pleasure. 

Jay seemed to take notice that you were reaching your climax, so he slipped his fingers out of you. Before you could even let out a whine, he grabbed your hips and buried his face in your cunt. You gasped, but it quickly broke off into obscene moans as his tongue skillfully snaked its way past your slit. Your hips canted a little for more friction, but Jay had a formidable grip on you, keeping you pinned to the wall. 

“Like that?” he purred, flattening his tongue and licking one long stripe to your clit. He laughed a little when you could only let out a helpless cry, begging for more. “No one’s made you feel this good, baby? Is that why you can’t get enough of me?”

You weren’t sure what you were trying to say, but whatever it was came out as an incoherent string of words. Jay pulled away to stand up, which frustrated you beyond belief because you needed his hands to be on you. A sheen of your arousal glistened on his chin and nose, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you pulled him close to connect your lips again. 

Jay’s fingers buried themselves in your cunt again, and your breath hitched against his mouth as you readjusted to the sudden penetration. The pads of his fingers brushed against that perfect spot right under your cervix that made you see stars. You were so, so close to the edge of your release, and you could feel the corners of Jay’s mouth lift when he realized you were about to cum. 

He pulled back to ask, “No?”

You shook your head, and Jay smiled, curling his fingers at the perfect angle to get you to come undone before him. Pleasure rippled through your body. You felt like your knees were going to give out from standing, and you ended up falling forward against Jay’s bare chest. 

You felt him press a kiss to your temple, and it got a weak smile out of you. You tried to look him in the eye when you wrapped your arms around his neck, but he was licking off your arousal from his fingers in a way that immediately flustered you.

“Take these off,” you said shyly, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

“Uh-huh,” Jay replied absentmindedly, ghosting his hands down your sides. “I can’t believe you look this good.”

You pouted. “You’re not even listening to me!”

“Nah, I always am.” His hands found the back of your thighs, and you took that as your cue to hold onto his shoulders and jump. Jay hiked your legs up his waist and carried you to the bed, setting you down carefully at the edge. He was towering over you when he stood between your knees and asked, “Why don’t you take them off yourself?”

“M-me?” you stuttered out, but your fingers were already fumbling for his zipper. 

You swallowed thickly. Jay’s cock was strained under the fabric, and you were already overwhelmed by his size. You tugged his pants down by the belt loops, and Jay assisted you by pushing the rest down his legs. His boxers were next, and you were especially nervous about this one. As you pulled them down, with Jay shuddering as you traced his v-line with your manicured nails, his erect cock sprung out and slapped the underside of his abdomen. 

There was an alarming issue at hand: Jay was huge.

Not that you were one to compare dick sizes, but his was considerably thicker and heavier than any other ones you had seen before. You were almost worried that Jay wasn’t exaggerating when he told you he would break you.

You felt hot again when he cupped your cheek with his palm. “Hm? Keep going.”

“Keep going…” you echoed, distracted, and you pressed a gentle kiss to the head of his cock. Then, you looked up at him through your lashes. “Like this?”

Jay groaned. “Exactly like that, Y/N.”

He wasn’t yours. No, he wasn’t yours, but you needed to have him. You wrapped your lips around Jay’s cock and let your tongue glide against his slit, drawing a sharp breath from him. His hand gripped the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair as you dragged your tongue along the underside of his head. 

Jay wasn’t one to be impatient, but you were getting excited at the thought of him getting frustrated with you. He hastily bucked his hips forward to chase the pleasure, but you continued to tease him with your kitten licks. He suppressed a moan at the back of his throat. You pulled your lips off of him to roll your tongue along the vein that ran down his shaft. 

“Fuck, you’re such a damn tease,” he growled. His fingers curled until he had your hair in a fist. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know?”

You laughed, lips still pressed against his shaft. “I wanna be the only one who makes you feel this way, that’s why.”

“Oh,” Jay started with an odd expression dawning on his face, and he was dead serious when he said, “you’ve already ruined everyone else for me.”

Your face broke into a dreamy smile before taking his cock into your mouth. His moans were addicting, so you continued your torturous antics until Jay gripped your jaw tightly with his free hand. You let out a sound that was an attempt of a giggle which resulted in you choking on his length, and Jay tilted his head back and moaned. 

Then, you took the rest of him in, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock that you couldn’t fit inside your mouth. His cock hit the back of your throat, and soon, Jay was thrusting his hips at a steady rhythm while you deepthroated him. Tears pooled at your eyes at the stretch, but you still hallowed your cheeks and sucked him off, unrelenting. 

You knew he was close by his strangled groans and the way his cock twitched in your mouth, so it wasn’t long before Jay stuttered out a string of curses and came in your mouth. You felt his hot seed down your throat and swallowed. Jay just stared at you, dazed, drinking in your fucked-out appearance as his thumb grazed your bottom lip. 

“So good for me,” he murmured, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He was barely audible, but nevertheless, his voice set you on fire. 

You couldn’t even think straight anymore. Couldn’t think of anything but him.

“Jay.”

“Yeah?” He hummed the words, still relishing how you looked before him. 

“Fuck me.”

You heard the way his breath hitched at your words. Saw the way his eyes went unfocused again. It was the same look he had given you several times in the past; you could never place your finger on what he was thinking, but now it was all too clear.

He wanted you—possibly even more than you expected.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, voice pitched an octave deeper. You crawled back on the mattress as Jay moved on top of you, using his strong arms to hover over you. “Want me to turn you into a mess.”

You grabbed his shoulders. “Yeah, need you to fuck me.”

“I don’t have a condom.”

You groaned. “Can we just buy Plan B tomorrow?”

“Do you know how expensive Plan B is? That’s, like, at least—”

You rolled your eyes and cut him off by sealing his lips with yours, cupping Jay’s face with your hands. After you pulled back, much to his displeasure, you asked, “You have me naked underneath you right now, and you’re worried about how much Plan B costs?”

He cocked his head to the side, as if the answer couldn’t be any more obvious. “Yes?”

“We can deal with that tomorrow,” you insisted, “just please.”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at Jay’s lips. “Never thought you’d be this needy.”

“I’ve never had sex like this,” you admitted in a breath, gripping onto his shoulders a little harder. It was true; you had never had all of your needs fully satisfied without any expectations of returning the favor.

“Never?”

You shook your head. “And… can you start slow for me? Please?”

“I plan on taking my time.” He moved your hair out of your face. “Hoon didn’t?”

Again, a hesitant shake of your head. Jay’s eyes narrowed. 

His laugh was devoid of mirth. “Of course.”

This time, it was Jay who rolled his eyes. You thought he was frustrated with you, but then he pulled your hips forward so that you were flush against his pelvis. Something about the steely resolution in his eyes told you to prepare yourself. 

“I’ve stretched you out enough, haven’t I? I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on,” he murmured, low and matter-of-factly, “and I’m gonna make sure you forget how that idiot treated you. ‘Cause it’s just me now”—he pushed his fingers into your mouth, shivering at the way your tongue wrapped around his digits—“right?”

You let out a broken whimper, spurring Jay to press his fingers down against your tongue. 

“Right, Y/N?” he repeated—gentler, this time. 

All you could do was nod, and you grabbed ahold of his wrist to suck on his fingers once more before moving his hand lower. Jay gave you a bewildered stare as you guided his hand to the base of your neck. He quirked a brow at you before realization seemed to wash over him; he splayed out his fingers to wrap around your neck. His pointer and middle finger made a ‘v’ around your Adam’s apple, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

“You still have to tell me, you know,” Jay murmured, running his free hand down the curve of your hip. He moved it lower and lower before his thumb found your clit again. Before you could ask for clarification, he added, “How often you think about me.”

Your face felt hot—whether it was from his comment or the way he was looking at you so intently, you didn’t know. “All… all the time.”

“Huh. Is that so?” 

You could hardly speak coherently as took his hand off your throat to rub the head of his cock against your cunt. You let a trembling sigh slip as he lazily ran it along your folds. 

You whined. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the shell of your ear. 

“I’m here now, baby.”

Jay’s shifted forward a little, just enough for his tip to breach your entrance. You attempted to suppress your moans by biting your lip, but the next jerk of his hips had you crying out far too loud to go unnoticed. Jay waited for you to adjust before he went any further. He hadn’t bottomed out inside you yet, but the head of his cock was fully inside you by now, and fuck, did it feel good. 

You ran your nails down his back, digging them in when Jay thrusted shallowly to work his shaft into you. He gripped the back of your thighs to stretch you out some more, groaning out loud whenever you clenched around his length. You felt like you were being split in half, drowning in a molten sea that pulled you back down each time you surfaced for air. 

Your back arched off the bed, and Jay reached to hold the small of your back so that he could keep your body pressed against his. His other hand was pushing your hip up his waist. Right as he rocked his hips forward, you cried out as Jay bottomed out inside you. (He also clamped his hand over your mouth immediately after and said in an undertone, “You have to keep it down, princess.”) Through half-lidded eyes, you met his gaze that never once left your face. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” he murmured, drunk off your reactions. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep looking at me like that.”

You pulled Jay down into a searing kiss, and the butterflies in your stomach scattered. His lips melted over yours effortlessly. He moved his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing small circles with his thumb. You dug your nails into his back when he started pistoning his hips into yours. 

He started out with slow, languid thrusts. You were overwhelmed by a dizzying sort of pleasure that clouded all rhyme and reason. Despite his hips snapping into yours, the way Jay kissed you was so passionate that you nearly lost yourself in your haze.

Jay pulled away to litter kisses across your jaw and down your neck. You whimpered when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the conjunction between your neck and shoulder, but then you were squirming under him as he started sucking the supple skin.

“Wish I could have you like this forever,” he growled against your skin. 

“I’m all yours.”

Jay pressed a sweet peck to your lips that grounded you momentarily.

Then, his pace sped up. If you were dizzy before, now you felt like your limbs had turned into jelly. Jay moved his hand to hold onto the headboard, pounding into you at a pace that made you feel like you were drowning in that sea of pleasure. If it wasn’t for Jay quieting you down each time, you two would’ve been caught already. You were gasping, moaning for more, and shuddering as Jay whispered praises against your skin. 

This was the closest to heaven you had ever been in your life. 

"F-fuck," you whimpered out, "that's it, Jay—please."

You were close. Fuck, you were so, so close. Each drag of Jay’s cock in your walls made you feel another torturous jolt of pleasure, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of your release. You screwed your eyes shut, ready to lose yourself to white-hot bliss, and Jay tenderly kissed your forehead.

Pinpricks of light exploded in your vision as your orgasm washed over you in full swing. 

Too good. Way too good. You never felt anything like this; of course you had experienced orgasms before, but this was, by far, the most intense climax you ever reached. Jay let out a strangled groan shortly after, his eyes rolling back and his moans muffled against your neck, and pulled out so that he could cum on your stomach. 

He sat up, panting and staring at where his cum trickled down your sides. For a moment, you were worried that the clouded expression on his face was out of regret and not lust, but you shook off the bad feeling and steeled your nerves. 

He liked you. There was no doubt about it. After everything Jay did and said, there was no reason for you to be so insecure anymore. 

You were both spent, panting and slipping in and out of consciousness in each other’s arms. Jay held you so tightly, like he never wanted to let go, and his head was tucked in the crook of your neck from how exhausted he was.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I ruined my only suit.”

“Oh,” you breathed out absent-mindedly. You rolled over to find wherever you had strewn your phone, and it took several minutes for you to peel Jay’s arms off of you so that you could retrieve it. While he sat up to run his hands through his sweat-matted hair, you dialed the number of your father’s go-to tailor. “Hi,” you chirped into the phone, “I know it’s late right now, but could you please do me a favor and open the showroom for my friend?” 

Jay looked up at you with a questioning gaze, though he placed his hand on the small of your back and tugged you close so that he could pepper kisses on your hip.

After exchanging a few more words, you hung up and tilted your head to get a crick out of your neck, leaning in to Jay’s touch as he kept his lips pressed to your skin. 

“Who was that?” he asked. 

“We’re going out to get you a suit,” you said, grabbing his hand with a grin. “C’mon, put on some clothes.” 

He raised a brow and laced his fingers with yours. “Now? But it’s already late.” 

“Trust me.” You giggled when you caught him staring at your lips again. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ jay's cooked LOL also gta 6 is not plot relevant at all i just wanted to be a little shit and let it happen before jay/n 🙂‍↕️ and very random but if you wanna join my discord server feel free to check it out here! we're having a barbie movie night soon so <3

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[c0ld0utside]

Yan Werewolf Dad

Boo I'm back.

Let’s ignore the fact that I said I’d try to update every day. Have a yandere werewolf dad. 

Thought of Drew’s (from After Dark on Webtoon) werewolf form while writing this. 

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Possessiveness, blood, loss of teeth, reader gets dragged back home

Your mother left the two of you when you were young. Since then it’s been you and your dad. He’s a hardworking man, trying to make sure the two of you live comfortably and making sure you have a good childhood. Trying to make sure that you’re close to him. He can’t lose you, too. The two of you settled in a forest on a mountain after what happened. To keep you close and make sure you’re happy. 

Your average day went like this:

Your Dad wakes you up and makes you breakfast while you get ready for school. He’ll ask you what you have going on today to help you remember. Quiz in your third-period class, you have an assignment due in fifth. Things like that while he takes your lunch out of the fridge and gives it to you. He’ll walk with you to the bus, wish you a good day, kiss you on the forehead, and go back home to head to work in his car. 

Usually, you come home first. A few hours later your Dad will come back covered in small twigs and leaves, sometimes with a treat. You help him pull the twigs and leaves out of his hair and he’ll head into his bathroom to rinse. After the two of you make dinner, he’ll help you finish up your homework, and if you have time you’ll watch TV and tell each other how your day went. Once he deems that it’s time for you to go to bed, he sees you to your room, gives your forehead a kiss, and wishes you goodnight while reminding you that his door is always open if something is troubling you. 

If something is bothering you, he’s happy when you come to him. Scared? You can sleep over. Nightmare? You can talk about it if you want, or you can skip that and go straight to him reassuring you and comforting you. Just can’t sleep? You’ll talk until you do. By “talk,” it’s actually him reminding you that you’re his #1, his VIP, the most precious thing in his entire world, and that he loves you. That he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he lost you. That he’s sorry if he was short with you earlier. He hates fighting with you. He just wants to make you happy. 

-

Today is different.

It started normal. Your Dad shook you awake gently with a smile before heading downstairs to cook you up some breakfast. He asks you what you’re doing in second period today and if you remember what the two of you went over last night—feeling nervous? Don’t worry, he knows you’ll do fine. He hands you lunch, reminds you to put on your coat and tie your shoes, waits while you sling your backpack over your shoulders, and the two of you set off toward your bus stop. After a quick “Love you, bye!”, you board the bus and he watches you leave. 

School is a blur. Second period’s quiz freaked you out a little bit but you know your Dad cares more about you than actual grades. Lunch is nice, per usual. A little note from your Dad telling you not to be too hung up over second period and that he hopes the rest of your school day is better. He also added in your favorite treat to cheer you up. 

Before you know it you’re back on the bus, riding home. You head inside, kick off your shoes in the mudroom, and laze around for at least an hour or two before starting on your schoolwork. Another hour later, you frown when the clock hits 6:30 PM because your Dad should’ve been home by now. Okay…maybe he got held up with something. You keep at it and another hour goes by. You start to feel like something is wrong. 

Pulling out your phone, you’re mid-dial when your dad practically bursts into the home. His breathing is all over the place and his arm-

Is covered in blood. Dripping and getting all over the floor and his clothes. You call out to him and ask him what happened, standing there in shock for a moment before going to find the medkit. As you search through his bathroom you hear a loud thump, followed by the sound of something not human. 

“...Dad?” 

Uneasy, you slowly make your way out of his room and into the kitchen. You hear his breathing, but you don’t see him. You see blood all over the kitchen island and sink- and there’s some small white thing on it as well. 

“Dad? I got the medkit…” You offer, rounding the corner. And then you freeze because what the fuck.

Three teeth are scattered on the floor. Your Dad’s teeth. And hunched over on said floor is some large, fur-covered beast emitting steam and making the most gutwrenching sounds you have ever heard. Where is your dad? What is this thing in front of you? Are you dreaming? Did you fall asleep while doing your homework?

The creature shifts, and you can see the ugly bite mark on its arm. It lets out a loud, drawn-out whine as it rises, arm lazily flopping onto the counter while it tries to pull itself up. It balances itself, breathless and trying to process what’s going on. You take a step back and it turns its head to look at you.

Your Dad’s eyes look into your own. Deep red brown and soft. Scared. Mouth open. Fangs are where his canines used to be. He’s…taller. His skin seems tight on his body, which is covered in fur. His ears are like a wolf’s- 

There’s no way.

Werewolves aren’t real. Right?

With the grace of a newborn deer, the beast- your Dad stumbles on shaky legs. He turns around, holding onto the island like his life depended on it. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other. Your Dad tries to speak but all that comes out is some sort of yip. Something in your head clicks, and you take several steps back. He whines and tries to move closer to you, only to fall. When you move further away, his eyes harden and he snarls at you. 

You freeze. Your Dad tries to walk over to you, growling, and that’s when instinct takes over. 

Leading to where you are now, running through the forest in the middle of the night. You’re trying to find the main road that your bus stop is at. You don’t really know why. Barely anyone takes this road aside from the bus that takes you to school and the few other people who live several miles away from you. The occasional passerby uses the road in their long journey to get from point A to point B. 

You must’ve gotten turned around at some point. You’re nowhere near the street. You’re not even on the pathway you and your dad have walked down countless times. Alright. This is fine. You’ll find a way to retrace your steps in the middle of the dark. Totally. 

A sound cuts through the air. Some sort of cry, a bark mixed with someone trying to call your name. Part of you wants to respond and go to it, realizing that you just left your Dad even though he needs help. The other half doesn’t recognize him as your Dad anymore. Just a monster that’s hunting you down. You freeze again as your brain fights with itself, self-preservation and emotion currently in a heated argument. 

The arguing ceases and turns into panicked screaming when something pounces on you. Oh wait, no- you’re actually screaming. Out loud, not just in your head. The part of you that doesn’t want to die takes over and you start to struggle. In response, the monster snarls at you, claws digging into your skin. It stops when it draws blood and you start to cry, snarls switching into whimpers and whines. 

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. You scared him when you ran off and you won’t come back home. He’s just so scared. He needs you. You’re the only family he has left, and part of you is him, after all. So you need him, too. 

Especially now. Even though it’s kind of his fault. 

Your Dad tries to pick you up and carry you back home, but you won’t stop thrashing around so it turns into him having to drag you back home. Kicking and screaming while he tries to apologize but can only keep making those odd noises. Begging and calling for help while he starts to feel annoyed because he’s right here, he’ll help you and make it better, he promises internally. 

Once you’re back home, it’s a bit odd. You have your Dad, who’s turned into a literal werewolf, dragging you inside after chasing and hurting you. He steers you over to the sink, washing the cuts he gave you with an apologetic look in his eye. It shifts into annoyance when he notices that you're also covered in dirt, scrapes, and other small cuts. This is what happens when you don't sit still. Your Dad bandages you up with shaky hands, still getting used to this new body of his. At this point, you’re too terrified and confused to fight back and cry. 

You’re guided into your bedroom and you immediately scramble into your bed. It feels safer there. Your Dad closes the door, flopping down next to you and pulling you close. He needs this. Needs his pup- kid close to him. Needs to know that they’re safe and secure and happy. You can miss a few days of school while the two of you figure this out. 

-

You look beautiful today! Remember to get 9 hours of sleep and drink water. 

Everything will be okay <3

[perictione00]

She's a Man-eater

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: MDNI, sub! gojo satoru, dom! reader, smut, degradation, heavy edging and overstimulation, cock stepping, choking, age difference(7-years, reader is older), oral sex, sounding, riding, unprotected sex.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

"Hngh...please...I need you", his desperation was so satisfying. He looked so beautiful crawling towards you, naked, with a collar on his neck with your name engraved on it.

"But we had a deal, no? You cum five times and I'll treat you", you coo. Breaking someone's body has become your new favorite hobby. To get them so high that normal never works for them. That they come crawling back to you.

"Haah...ngh...mmf...I can't anymore, please." You understand now why men like to oppress women. Power is a fucking drug, and controlling someone stimulates it.

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you, Satoru", you said, sounding disappointed, causing him to start stroking his already twitching cock. With his head thrown back, sweat beads covered his flushed face as he continued jerking himself off, moaning wildly, until he came for the fifth time in the same night.

What a sight. So strong yet so fragile—such a complaint one. Easy to mold and easy to manipulate. Watery blue eyes stared at you with hope. He was such a good pet. He deserved a reward for his hard work. So you took off your very wet panties and threw them to the other side of the room.

"Good boy, now go fetch."

Without wasting a second, Satoru fetched your panties on all fours. Sniffing it, he lapped on it and drooled at your taste. You watched him as he buried his face in your panties and continued groaning loudly. His hips bucked up instinctively, fucking into nothingness to seek any sort of friction to calm his now-hardening dick.

"More...I want more", Satoru begged as he moved towards your lap.

"Yeah? Tell me, will you do anything for me?", you questioned affectionately as you slid your hands and ruffled his disheveled hair.

"Ya...yes, anything. I can d-do any and everything for you", he answered, sounding breathless.

Yanking him back by the hair, you opened your legs and forced his face into your pussy. While he sucked on your clit, you noticed how he kept glancing at your moaning form. It was obvious that he wanted to feel validated by pleasing you. The poor thing was in love with you; the least you could do was grind on his face and use him. So you used his nose to gain some roughness and pulled on his hair as his tongue slurped on your wetness. Getting suffocated by your thighs drove Satoru to the brink, and his sensitive cock leaked for the sixth time. But he was so drunk on you. So much so that he couldn't stop and kept fucking your hole till you came.

"If you do it right, I'll reward you with a truffle cake", you declared to a ten-year-old who was being more annoying than usual. Gojo Satoru was the new big thing in the Jujutsu world, and although he was just a child, he was already much better than most of the second-grade sorcerers. And since he was destined to be the strongest, a majority of his time was consumed in practicing, and that too with well-versed sorcerers like yourself.

"Liar. You said that the last time too and didn't bring me any", the lil guy yelled as he continued pouting.

"That was because you literally announced it to the whole house. You think anyone here would lemme feed you, a child, a whole cake?", you retorted, closing the distance between you.

"I'm not a child. I defeated two of your classmates, remember", he scoffed.

"God, I don't have time for this. Listen, Satoru, if you don't do this, forget the cake; I'm never bringing anything for you, and then you can have a great time practicing with Daddy too", you were sure this threat was enough to keep him in check. It was your favorite weapon against him. And when you saw his frowning form turning back to practice, you knew it had hit the right mark.

Gojo had developed a sweet tooth early on because of your constant rewards after practice sessions. It was easier. Satoru already knew well that he was stronger than an average person; hence, with all his sass, he avoided training, even with you. If it was up to him, he would only play with you. So you introduced him to the world of sweets, and the rest is history. Growing up with Satoru, you knew your ways with him. To you, rather than a little brother that you never asked for, he was more like an asset who was the key to your goal. It worked out well. He became the ace up your sleeve, and you became his favorite company.

Coming from a non-sorcerer family, at the age of 6, you immediately piqued the interests of many families with your unexpectedly strong cursed technique, one of them being the Gojo clan. Initially, people thought it was for the sake of marrying you off to someone within the clan, but it surprised everyone when the head of the clan announced his goal of sponsoring your education until you were an adult. What seemed like a random play turned out to be a well-thought-out scheme to have stronger allies. For several hundred years, no one in the Gojo family had inherited both the six eyes and the limitless techniques, portraying the clan as weaker among the Big three families, so it was better to have an active margin to keep the center intact. That was the reason why you grew up learning from the best of the best and became a first-grade sorcerer by the age of 14. Which was why you ended up training the future of the clan. Or maybe the real deal was that the insolent brat wouldn't practice with anyone other than you.

Before his birth, you were the apple of everyone's eye, including all the servants and his father. It all changed, though—after his birth, that is. From the moment Gojo Satoru was born, his mere existence was celebrated; he was treated like a king, but you, on the other hand, were neglected. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. You were a child. With all the attention that you desperately craved, snatched away so suddenly, you couldn't help but feel jealous and envy the blue-eyed devil who had hypnotized every sane adult in the clan. You were there first, then why were you not as loved as he was? He was such a burden, a crybaby who couldn't fend for himself and had to be under surveillance at all times. You were forced to be by his side to keep track of his needs, which made you more hostile towards him. Fortunately, you warmed up to him as time went on. The hostility melted into care as you looked after the little demon who was always following you, crawling on all fours, when he always cried in your absence, and when instead of gibberish, his first words turned out to be your name.

The jujutsu world is cruel, and it's worse if you're a woman. The pathetic mentality of a few old geezers was enough to drive out women from this field. With the misconduct of power, the status of women was intentionally devalued through a sequence of meaningless regulations. For something so basic, women had to prove themselves worth it in order to be given the same treatment and respect as any other man. Women were associated with childrearing and bearing. And if they somehow turned out to be more than what was expected of them, the scope of their development is reduced. You learned it a little too late.

"Don't be greedy now. Grade 1 is as far as you go. I'm sure the clan backing you up wouldn't like that either. You're 15, right? A looker that's for sure. Ripe age. About time you start getting marriage offers, no?"

"If only you didn't have a mouth on you. Well, I'm sure I can fuck it out of you."

"Special grade!? Even if all of us in the room used you, there's no chance you're ever getting there."

"Give up on that impossible dream of yours. Isn't it too much for you to carry on as a grade 1 anyways?"

"Don't make me laugh."

"All I see is a hole inviting me to fuck. Come on, lemme help you discover all you're good for."

"Grade 1? Who did you fuck to get there? The clan head? Are the rumors true? I've heard he has a thing for young girls. I can see why he would give in to you, though."

That's how it was and will always be. In a world dominated by men, you will never be able to achieve what your heart longs for. You will never be the strongest. You will have to act according to their will and listen to the crap that comes out of their mouths. It was not fair. You were dragged into this world without consent, and now that you finally accept reality and try to be something more, they tell you that it was never possible. Hypocrites. You were not a slave. If you were being objectified by a bunch of old men, you might as well use them to get what you want. You can give them a sense of control and suck them dry of their powers. Use them until they serve your desires, and throw them away the moment you're done. It is okay if you can't be the strongest; you can always be with the strongest.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer. He could have anything he wished for, yet he couldn't have you. On his 7th birthday, he declared in front of all the maids that he'd marry you and have about a hundred kids with you. His confession was met with a few chuckles and pity, but he was sure of his resolve. On the same day, you skipped practice sessions to meet with some dirt from your class and wished him a happy birthday minutes before his birthday ended. Let's just say that an angry Satoru melted from your apology, which consisted of a customized Digimon watch, his favorite pastries, and a peck to his cheek.

To him, you were the prettiest girl. And age was just a number. He just needed to grow up faster and be taller to be with you. You were the only one who treated him like a normal human. And the only one who genuinely wished the best for him and cared for him without any malicious or hidden intention. However, nothing had prepared him for your exit from the household on your eighteenth birthday. He was dumbfounded when you told him the same. He remembers crying and begging you to stay with him—not that it changed your decision, but you did promise to meet him every week, which was not enough for him.

Time went by, and Gojo Satoru realized that he wanted you all for himself. You were famous not only for your capabilities and beauty but also for your infamous relationships. He recalls how one of the Zenin clan men fell head over heels for you and took his own life because he couldn't have you. He also recalls how a senior representative of the Kamo clan went crazy after you left him and the stories of countless men who were doomed to the same fate. You were magical, and those low lives weren't your equals. Of course, you wouldn't settle for them; you were way too good for them. That's why he wants to become strong and be of any worth to you.

You came back to the house once, after 5 years, when you were accused of assassinating a higher-up, and somehow, after just two hours in his father's room, you were announced to be not guilty a day later. On that very day, you hugged him for the first time while comforting him about the incident with the sorcerer killer as he smelled his father's cologne on you. If he wasn't bound by relationships, he was sure that he would have killed his own father in a heartbeat.

Later that year, he confessed his love for you on your 23rd birthday, and you shot him down instantly. Calling him a child and whatnot. He wasn't immature; he was just a bit overly enthusiastic but not impulsive. Maybe it was just about his age. That's what he told himself until you rejected him again and again and again. For the first time, he saw the distance between you both. How you were climbing up the status ladder in the Jujutsu hierarchy and how the number of your lovers was increasing with every passing month. Something snapped inside him as realization hit him, and at the young age of 16, he lost his virginity to a housemaid his age.

You had successfully infiltrated all the major clans except for the Gojo clan. You were not going to infiltrate that clan; you had decided to own it. Although latent, your influence was more than a lot of high-ups combined. But of course you wouldn't rub it on everyone's faces; you didn't need to hurt their egos to feel your worth anymore. You just needed to act submissive and poised; that would do the trick. Nobody needed to know that all the cards were in your favor and that you were the real puppeteer.

When it came to the Gojo clan, you heard here and there that your little prince had learned to fuck around. It was about time he was tamed. So on his 19th birthday, you rewarded him with a gift of a lifetime.

"No...shit... please-aahh...it won't fit, please", Satoru mumbled as tears streamed down his flushed face.

"It will. You will make it fit for me, right?", you whispered and resumed kissing him down his neck, stopping only to abuse his hard nipples. He was a moaning mess, trembling with every movement, cringing at the sharp but pleasurable pain as you continued inserting a sounding rod in his penis.

You stood up to admire your artwork once you were done. No man has ever looked so beautiful. Gojo Satoru was kneeling in front of you, twitching like an insect, crying, and losing himself to you. He was so submissive, so perfect. You were going to take your sweet time devouring him.

You dragged your foot over to his cock and asked him, "What do you say, Satoru? Should I step on it?"

He was barely able to make a coherent sentence as you toyed with his cock while the pressure of the inserted rod edged him to the highest degree. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, you took off your panties and stuffed them in his mouth. You were left with nothing but your bra; however, you unhooked them the moment an idea popped up in your mind. Tying them around Satoru's neck, you pulled on em, making him choke. Suddenly, he looked like every man who had wronged you, underestimated you, and molested you. He looked heavenly as he struggled to breathe, and Gojo would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy life slipping out of him just a bit. When he was expecting you to finally take the rod out, you laid him down and positioned yourself on his dick.

You teased yourself with the cold metal end of the rod and slowly sank down Satoru's length. You looked down only to see him blabbering and moaning uncontrollably. His teary blue eyes and instant desperation to rut into you were painted all over his face. He tried thrusting into you, only to feel overwhelmed by the rod. You started bouncing on his cock and playing with your nipples. It would be an understatement to say that Satoru was hypnotized by you. He was enamoured by you. In this moment, you looked like an absolute goddess, and he was ready to lose himself in you. Your walls were gripping onto his length so tightly that he felt lightheaded. You continued grinding on his cock as you reached your orgasm. Getting off immediately to take his cock in your mouth and tease him a bit more.

"Are you my whore, Satoru?", you asked as you squeezed his balls. Had you broken him? Because it looked like he was too far gone. Did he stop working?

"Yes, I'm ya-your wh...whore".

You smirked. It was done. It's easy to break them when they're young, just like they broke you. You bobbed your head on his dick, sucking on his prominent veins and slurping some globs of his semen. Then, all of a sudden, you harshly took out the sounding rod, and with that, Satoru reached his orgasm with a high-pitched moan. But you didn't stop, not yet. You continued sucking on his member, taking in all of his jizz. Without a second thought, you sealed the deal as you spat his cum into his mouth and kissed him deeply. He was yours now, and so was his clan.

"I love you."

As if you didn't know that already. It's okay, though you'll entertain him.

"Yeah, let's do it again. This time, I'll let you breed me."

Part 2

[kainuhsblog]

Mr. Choi from 2A • Jiung Choi

prompt         More Than Words Elementary gets the surprise of a lifetime when the kids figure out that the two kindest teachers for 4th and 5th grade are married. pairing          teacher!jiung x fem!reader genre           school teachers, established relationship, fluff warnings      mentions of food, playful banter, school word count    3,796 (this story wrote itself) a/n                 hi! i'm back! I have something written this time! jiung is my ultimate bias, so i’ve been itching to write something for him. please note that this fic will be told in 3rd pov, but kind of centric to none of the main characters, but to one of jiung’s students, emma! 

want more piwon posts from me? check out my fake texts here and here!

There are many things in the world that Emma loves. Her parents, for one –  obviously. They spoil her endlessly, and even gave her a little brother, so she loves them. 

Emma also loves trucks. She loves them simply because her dad always lifts her up to get in the thing. He even has to do a little stretch to get in himself.  Big trucks that make even her dad seem small are always fun. 

Third on the list – not that it has a particular order – will have to go to the bakery near her house. Ms. Lim makes the best cupcakes known to man, and her mom loves them just as much as she does, so they like to splurge on them every once in a while. 

Fourth; the quaint burger place lodged in an alleyway on that busy street Emma always forgets the name of. Every once in a while, her mom and dad take her (and her little brother, now) to the place, and she always manages to see her uncle manning the bar. She wonders if he works there. 

And last, but certainly not least; her 4th grade teacher Mr. Choi. Mr. Choi never enters the room without a fond smile on his face as he greets the class in the morning. He never lets them leave without some words of praise when they leave the class in the afternoon. 

Mr. Choi is very attentive, explaining things a million times over for everyone to understand (who knew there were different methods to learning how to multiply big numbers?) and is very interactive with his class. Mr. Choi is probably the kindest person Emma knows. 

If someone were to come up to her and shove a microphone and a camera in her face (because people do that now) and ask her who she thought the kindest person in the world was, her first answer would definitely be Mr. Choi. That’s just how good he is. 

Anyways, before the author starts her spiel on the guy, let’s get into the actual story – shall we?

The list of things that Emma loves in this world differ depending on what day you ask her. Her constants will always be her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, and Mr. Choi from class 2A. 

Lately though, Emma thinks that a new constant might add to her list of things she loves in this world. The thought came to her mind halfway through the previous semester. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

At the beginning of her first semester in fourth grade, a new teacher for fifth grade arrived in bubbly fashion. With beautiful kind eyes and a charming smile; the new teacher tumbled her way into the lives of everyone at More Than Words Elementary School. 

Emma was one of the people who only entertained things within her bubble. As a bubble dweller, the only things she knew dwelled in her bubble with her. She didn’t know anything about new staff or teachers unless someone entered her bubble to tell her. Which is how she found out about the new teacher in the first place. 

She had many friends within the school who greeted her in the mornings, and her cousin Shelby was friends with her next door neighbor Tommy. Those two always brought her the gossip from their fifth grade circle. 

They were all hanging out on the playground for recess when Shelby mentioned it to Emma. Something along the lines of the nicest teacher ever just came to their school or something. Emma excused Shelby’s comments because the elder didn’t have Mr. Choi in fourth grade. 

Tommy described the woman like she hung the stars in the sky every single night for him to look at and ponder her. Shelby told him to write a book if he wanted to be that sappy. Emma laughed even if she didn’t get the reference all too well. 

For the rest of that week, the new teacher was all her fifth grade friends seemed to want to talk about. She stopped listening to them halfway through. Mr. Choi was the nicest teacher ever, so she wanted to see his competition with her own two eyes. 

If someone was listening to her thoughts, then they made quick plans, because the next day called for a multitude of rain and the absence of half of the students in her small school. Emma still went to school because her mom and dad had jobs to go to despite the rain, and her grandma was out of the country so no one her parents trusted could watch their kids. 

She walked happily to her class, thinking of the pastries she would smell in the afternoon (as it was the day her and her mom went to the bakery) when she spotted a beautiful woman standing outside her class door talking to Mr. Choi. Her smile stretched like the sun on the horizon as it rose in the morning. A warmth like no other had hit Emma the moment she saw it. 

Emma slowed her pace as she neared the classroom, and she heard the familiar words of reassurance from her teacher to the lady in front of him to ease her worries about whatever she stressed about. The kind words sounded a bit different in Emma’s ears though. 

Emma greeted the adults like she was taught, and both Mr. Choi and the teacher greeted her with similar waves of kindness. The other teacher even knew her name. Why would the other teacher know her name?

Emma tilted her head in confusion and stood before the two teachers. The lady laughed and nudged Mr. Choi to get him to notice. Then, the teacher moved her left hand from the books she clung so tightly to her chest and extended it to the little girl before her. 

“Hi Emma Kang, I’m the new fifth grade teacher Ms. (last name). It’s very nice to meet you!” The teacher introduced, and the shock couldn’t come fast enough as it morphed Emma’s face. 

The lady before her was the kind teacher Shelby and Tommy told her about. Emma shook Ms. (last name)’s hand, feeling the familiar weight of an engagement band (her aunt Nina had just gotten engaged last month, so she knows how it feels on someone’s hand), and told the teacher that it was nice to meet her as well. 

Turns out, Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were discussing the merge of their classrooms for the day so that they can watch movies and play games. None of the other fifth grade teachers wanted to do such things with their classes, (as it was still the beginning of the semester) but Mr. Choi thought it would be fun to let his kids relax for one day. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Rainy days had now meant joint classes after the success of the first one that day, and Emma realized that she hoped for rainy days a lot more, so that she can see Ms. (last name) again and again and again. This was when she thought of the possibility of a new constant on her list. 

Emma thinks that Ms. (last name) felt like the sun, especially when she brightened up the classrooms. Ms. (last name) was extra involved in just about everything, and Emma found herself wanting to join a few things just to see the bubbly teacher again. 

Now, you (as the reader) might be wondering where I’ll fit the synopsis into this story, and I’m getting there. Anyways, back to the story. 

Emma also notices how much livelier Mr. Choi seemed to get whenever Ms. (last name) would come around their area, for rainy days or not. The two teachers seemed really close, like they were friends before working together. Well, that’s how Emma saw it. Shelby and Tommy seemed to disagree though. 

The two fifth graders often talked about how they coax small bits of information out of their homeroom teacher whenever they all can’t seem to understand a particularly hard subject (which is usually math.) Ms. (last name) never got into great detail about a lot of stuff, but she always talked about her fiance with a sense of “love” and “comfort”. 

Emma knew about those feelings and those words, (she’s 9 for crying out loud) but no one ever seemed to explain the concept of love to her in a way where she understood or related to it, so topics like these had her confused.  When she asked what that had to do with anything, Shelby exclaimed that she had a feeling that Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. 

Emma sat there for a long while trying to see things from her cousin’s point of view. Sure, they were friendly and got along well, but a couple? They didn’t seem like a couple. She’s seen a few couples in her nine years on this earth, and her teachers don’t act as gross as those couples. 

Besides, they both arrive in separate cars. From the couples Emma has seen, they usually arrive in the same car, do they not? Her mom and dad are almost always in the same vehicle. Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam never leave without each other at events. Uncle Darren and Aunt Lily only have one car. They drop Shelby to school in it everyday. 

Tommy and Shelby bickered back and forth whilst Emma was left with the most confusing theory of her life. 

Emma decided that day that there was no way Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. Well, that was until dinnertime, when she decided to ask the one couple she constantly has to see. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“Mom, dad, can people be a couple even if they don’t hug and hold hands and kiss and arrive at places in the same car?” She asked them once her food was graced and her mom told her to dig in. 

Both of her parents stopped their utensils from reaching their mouths to look at their daughter, seeing her staring back at them with a curious glint in her eyes. 

“Sweetie, I think we’re gonna need more context than that.” Her mom answered. 

“Your mom’s right, princess. What brought this on so suddenly?” Her dad added on. 

“Well, you guys know my favorite teacher Mr. Choi right?” She started off, watching her parents put down their eating utensils to give her their undivided attention. 

“Yes we do, what about him?” Her dad asked. 

“And you guys know the pretty teacher I told you about a while ago? Ms. (last name)?” She inquired. 

“Yes we do sweetheart.” Her mom answered, picking up her son’s spoon to help him eat his rice. 

“Okay, so today at recess I mentioned to Shelby and Tommy how I thought the teachers were friends before working together because of how well they seem to just – what’s the word I’m looking for?” 

“Coexist?” 

“No not that one … although that one is really good, thanks mom.” 

“Of course!” 

“Cooperate then?” Her dad chimed in, finally picking his utensil up. 

“Oh yes that word! Thank you dad, you’re so smart! Anyways, yes I mentioned it to them, and then Shelby said something about how she thinks they’re a couple? So then I sat there to think about it and that doesn’t make sense? How are they a couple when they don’t kiss and hug and hold hands and go everywhere together and use the same car and have kids?” Emma rambled, getting more confused than ever as she’s explaining it to her parents. 

“Maybe they don’t act that way because kids are present, princess.” Her dad supplied. 

“Dad, you and mom were literally kissing in the kitchen … with me present!” Emma rebutted. 

“That’s because you’re our kid. There’s a difference when it’s your own kid,” Her mom informed. 

“And besides, they work together don’t they? Why act like a couple at work? That’s not very professional.” Her mom continued. 

“You can’t do stuff like that at work?” Emma asked incredulously. 

“No you can’t Emma.” Her dad replied. 

“Wow, you learn something new everyday. What about the car thing then, they’re married and don’t come to work together? That’s so odd. You guys ride to work together all the time.” Emma questioned. 

“Emma first of all, not all couples are married,” Her mom told her, ignoring the gasp of disbelief that escapes her nine year old. 

“Secondly, they probably don’t even live together. Of course they’ll come to work in different cars.” Her mom continued. 

Emma’s shocked beyond words, her brother Eric wasn't paying attention, just eating his food and replaying the opening for power rangers in his mind as he ignored them. Her dad’s just thinking about how all of this could’ve been avoided if they just gave her electronics and discovered the weird stuff on the internet in the first place. He pushed the thought from his mind though, his wife said no so he sticks beside her. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that couples aren’t married and don’t live together and can’t act gross and work?” Emma asked. 

“Your Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam aren’t married, and they’re a couple.” Her dad answered. 

“They’re practically married.” Emma replied.

“Wait, but do you guys think they’re a couple? An unmarried one who doesn't live together?” Emma followed up. 

She saw her mom and dad rack their brains to see if they remembered anything out of the ordinary between the fourth and fifth grade teachers that night. And then she heard them agree with her crazy claim. 

The next day, when she took Shelby’s side in the argument, their conversations shifted forever. The three friends had made it their new mission to find out if their teachers were really together. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

In between that time, the semester had ended, and the long awaited break had begun. Her mom and dad finally sat her down and told her about the different types of couples and all that jazz. They also took her to see her grandparents, where she stayed with all of her cousins for two weeks. 

Emma, Shelby and Tommy met regularly to talk about their random findings, even during their break. Nothing was bigger than the time Emma saw them both at Ms. Lim’s bakery though. The two teachers didn’t notice her, and she didn’t try to get noticed as she saw them share a slice of cheesecake and basically smiled at each other for five minutes. 

Through it all though, the mission seemed to be leading them practically nowhere. The new semester started with Shelby and Tommy telling Emma how Ms. (last name) came back with a new ring on her finger, signifying that she finally got married. 

Tommy told her to check Mr. Choi’s hands to see if he had a ring on as well to confirm their suspicions. Mr. Choi always had rings on his fingers though, so that plan was fruitless. 

For days on end, Emma tried to figure out if there was a new ring on Mr. Choi’s finger, and for days on end it seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Just as Emma was about to give up though, the answers to their questions fell right into her lap. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

It was a rainy Thursday, and like all rainy days, Emma gets dropped off to school earlier than usual. Emma told her parents goodbye at the entrance of the school, watching her dad’s truck drive off with her mom waving at her wildly from the window. 

Emma began to turn around to head inside before hearing the familiar purr of her teacher’s SUV pulling into the parking lot. She then stopped fully once she saw her teacher help Ms. (last name) out of the car?!?!!?!?! 

Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) just came out of the same car. Mr. Choi is helping Ms. (last name) with her bags. Mr. Choi – OH MY GOODNESS DID MR. CHOI JUST KISS MS. (LAST NAME)’S FOREHEAD? were the thoughts that ran through Emma’s mind once she saw what transpired. 

Emma wanted to stand there and rack her brain to find the sense in all of what had happened, but the teachers were both coming towards the entrance? Oh my goodness, Emma Kang. Go and run into a hole right now. 

Emma picked up her pace and starts to walk away, but the warm tilt of a harmonious tone traveled to her ears as Ms. (last name) greeted her from her walk toward the door. Emma stopped like a deer in headlights, and turned slowly to greet the two teachers. 

My goodness, they’re even sharing an umbrella. Emma Kang, for the first time in her life, just wants to not be a curious kid. Having to see this from her favorite teachers isn’t good for her psyche. 

“Emma Kang, it’s been a while. How are you doing this morning? Are you ready for our rainy day movie session? I didn’t expect the rain to happen so quickly into the semester, but man am I excited for our class to get together again and have some fun. Do you want to help Mr. Choi and I choose the first movie? We’ve been arguing about the lineup all –” 

“(First name), you’re rambling.” Mr. Choi interrupted, and only one thing entered Emma’s mind like a blaring siren once she saw Ms. (last name) stop and giggle about it, apologizing to the kid. 

“You two are married.” Emma blurted out in the midst of Ms. (last name)’s apology, causing the two teachers to freeze up at the accusation – no, the declaration. 

They both rubbed their necks in tandem; Ms. (last name) laughing nervously and suddenly finding interest in the school motto placed on the wall beside them. Mr. Choi looked at his wife, and then looked at his (now unfortunate) brightest student.

“You two are married right? Mr. Choi kissed your forehead and you guys got out of the same car and you guys are even holding pinkies over the handle of Ms. (last name)’s bag.” Emma asked, pointing out her deductions to the newlyweds before her. 

The air stilled once she continued on with her findings, almost laughing at the fact that they immediately let go of each others’ pinkies. Mr. Choi told Emma to follow them, walking from the entrance and to the classroom of 2A. 

Emma watched as they both started to unpack the bags, placing stuff here and there and working together like they’ve been doing this for years. Emma watched a new level of their cooperation unfold on that rainy thursday. 

After they had set up everything, Ms. (last name) walked over to Mr. Choi, and pulled at his blazer to get his attention. They had a discussion with wide eyes and ragged whispers for about five minutes before Mr. Choi raised his hands in defeat. That’s when Emma noticed that he forwent the rings he usually donned, one simple band on his left ring finger catching the light in the room. 

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Ms. (last name) said after a few moments of awkward silence. 

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers once she realized that they were admitting to her declarations. 

“You guys really are married?” She carefully asked. 

“Yes, yes we are. We recently tied the knot during the break.” Mr. Choi answers, stifling his laughter once he sees confusion slide across his student’s face. 

“What does tying a knot have to do with your marriage?” Emma confusingly questioned.

“It’s an expression. One of the many ways of saying you got married without actually saying it.” Ms. (last name) replies, pinching her husband for laughing. 

“Oh.” Is all Emma said in response. 

The adults studied her face for any odd reactions from Emma Kang, who started to have another mental battle with herself. 

“We actually wanted to tell you and the other kids about it later on.” Mr. Choi supplies helplessly. 

That didn’t seem to work though, as Emma continued to just … blankly stare at them. 

“Are you upset, Emma Kang?” Ms. (last name) asked after almost three minutes of heavy silence. 

Then Emma blinks a few times, looking up at them with something close to joy swimming in her eyes. Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) let out the breath they didn’t even know they were holding. 

“Upset? This is the best news I’ve gotten all school year. Why would I be upset when the two nicest people in the world are married?” Emma exclaims. 

“I thought you’d be upset that we didn’t say anything.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“I thought you had a crush on Mr. Choi, to be honest.” Ms. (last name) replied at the same time. 

“I’m nine.” Emma deadpanned. 

“When I was nine, I had a crush on my music teacher. I don’t see how that excuse is relevant.” Ms. (last name) said. 

“(First name) you were just an odd kid.” Mr. Choi followed up. 

Emma chuckled when she saw Ms. (last name) hit Mr. Choi on the arm for his comment. 

“You who was crushing over Sam from ‘Danny Phantom’ at that exact age, puh-lease.” Ms. (last name) accused. 

“At least she and I were closer in age than you and your old shriveled up music teacher.” Mr. Choi responded. 

“Sam isn’t even real.” Ms. (last name) said.

“Neither was your chance with that wrinkly old music teacher.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“He was 25 oh my goodness Jiung, stop calling him old.” Ms. (last name) exclaimed. 

“Even worse.” Mr. Choi replied. 

The adults stopped their playful banter when they heard Emma cracking up from her seat. 

“You guys are the sweetest.” She replied once she stopped laughing, shocked at the fond looks that stretched their smiles wide at her.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ 

The rainy day ended up with Emma harboring their secret for them, a lot of movies, and a kid crashing from a sugar rush after sneakily eating too much candy. 

Later that semester, the teachers decided to tell their class separately about their marriage, which breaks another spout of gossip between Emma, Shelby and Tommy. The news spread through More Than Words Elementary like wildfire that day. 

Questions were thrown at the couple for weeks to come after that, and a new quest (bet) was formed between the kid trio. Guessing when they’d have their first kid. 

Emma now helped the kind teachers set up for movie days whenever it rained, and a new constant had been added to Emma’s long list of things she loved.  Her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, Ms. (last name) and Mr. Choi from Class 2A. That was her list of constants.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ║ ❝𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭❞

(A/n) ➳ I’m planning for the next chapter to be a longer one, I’m working on my writing on smut and testing out a couple of things. If you guys wanna be added to the Taglist you can check it out HERE.

Word Count ➳ 1.3k

Content Warnings ➳ Sexual content, p-in-v, overstimulation, swearing, praising, pet names (darlin’), mentions of dangerous situations, TERRIBLE FLIRTING…

JUDAS Masterlist

YOU REMEMBERED ROCKING YOUR HIPS BACK AND FORTH.

Throwing your head back as your mouth opened to let out another loud moan as your orgasm came crashing down on you.

You must’ve been on the fifth… Seventh? Maybe more? You lost count, Daryl made you lose count.

He was brutal, ruthless, fucking you over and over again. Yet you had no complaints.

All night, you were worried about something you shouldn’t have to be worried about. He made you lose your mind, losing yourself, and letting go in the pleasure.

“Let me hear ya.”

“Gotta be patient for me.”

“Jus’ like tha’.”

“Doin’ a good job for me.”

Your body went limp for a second but it didn’t stop Daryl from slowing down, he kept your sweaty body close to his, thrusting his hips up as his arms wrapped around you.

“Daryl!” You whined, chanting his name like a mantra.

“Goin’ weak on me?” He grunted.

You attempted to shake your head, your no getting cut off by another gasp.

“One more, gimme one more.” As if he didn’t say that hours ago. Daryl knew what he was doing, driving you to the edge each time.

Daryl pushed you onto your back, your head hanging off the bed, his hands moved to clutch your waist.

Your hands come to his chest, hooking your legs around him. “Please, Daryl!” Starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Ya can take it, darlin’.”

You sat at the table, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in your hands. Daryl left in the early hours of the morning, giving you a vague answer as he left your apartment.

Amy came into the kitchen, as she had come over to your place an hour after Daryl left. She saw you sitting in silence but she could see it in your eyes.

“So, spill it.” Amy smirked, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot. “How was the night with Mr. Leather jacket mysterious man?”

You let out a small laugh, feeling your face warm up. “He was… Different. Excitin’. He ain’t like anyone before.”

Any leaned against the counter, bringing the hot cup to her lips, careful not to burn herself. “Different how?”

You paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s… He’s unpredictable. B-But in a good way! It brings this energy into my life, fillin’ what was missin’ in my life.”

Amy lifted an eyebrow. “All that from one night? A couple of hours?” Her voice filled with concern and suspicion. “And Shane? He’s crazy about you.”

“I-I know, but I know if I’m with Shane. It’ll be somethin’ I don’t want to settle, especially settle for him. I don’t want that.”

Amy slowly nodded. “But (Y/n), I’ve seen too many girls in my college choose the adrenaline life over a safety net given to them and most of the time, it doesn't end well.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Amy’s groan interrupted you. “Shit. I gotta go before my professor docks my damn grades.” She took the cup with her as she rushed to your door. “Remember! Tell Shane you don’t want him!”

“I’ll try!”

“You will! I don’t wanna hear you complaining about him!”

You happily waved her off, letting her leave with your cup. But you knew she would come back with it, wouldn’t be the first time.

You stood with a huff, walking to the kitchen to dump the rest of your coffee down the kitchen drain.

You turned on the faucet to wash the cup, a knock startling you. You turned the faucet off and headed to your door to look through the peephole.

You grumbled, seeing Shane on the other side. You debated for a moment but decided to open the door to him.

“Hey.” Shane greeted you, his hat in his hands. It seemed like he was fumbling with it.

“What are you doin’ here Shane?” You asked him. “Thought you had work.”

“I was in the neighborhood. Did you get my voicemail?”

Right… He was calling you back when you were in the club, probably calling you when you were getting screwed by Daryl.

“Sorry. I had a rough night.”

“Is it alright if I come in? I jus’ wanna talk.”

You stepped aside, letting him come in and take a seat at the table. You closed the door and locked it.

You sat as well, feeling the atmosphere become tense. You were unsure how to start the conversation or if you wanted to talk at all.

Shane cleared his throat, setting his hat down on the table. “I, uh, wanted to talk to ‘bout the yesterday mornin’.”

“Right…” You knew where the conversation was going to go or how it was going to end. Better to say it now, you don’t want this biting you in the ass. “Shane-”

“Maybe they’re onto somethin’.” Shane immediately said, leaning in. “We’ve known each other for so long. I care ‘bout you, (Y/n).” He then took your hand, holding it tightly. “I want my future to have you in it.”

Your eyes shifted around the room, Shane’s eyes to the table, the door, and the coat rack. “I don’t know, I-I mean, I see where you’re comin’ from but-”

Disappointment was clear across his face. “But? But what? We have somethin’ special between us, don’t you want that?”

You started to panic, your eyes coming back to him. “I do but-!”

“But what?” He repeated. “Is it time you want? I ain’t a patient man. Jus’ give me a night, a chance, I’ll show you-”

Your phone ringing cut him off.

You pulled it out and saw the caller ID, an unknown number.

“Go, take the call.” Shane’s tone was cold, he reluctantly released your hand.

You retreated to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly. You opened the phone and brought it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Daryl.” You heard him over the phone. “Nearly thought you lost yer voice.” He laughed.

“How did you get my number?”

“It don’t matter. Ya free tonight, midnight?”

You were taken aback by the invitation Daryl gave you. “Uh, yeah… Why?”

“I’m taking ya ridin’.” Daryl replied.

A smile formed on your lips, nearly calming you. “That sounds great.”

After a few more words, you put your phone back in your pocket and came out of your room. When you returned to the kitchen, Shane was gone. You sighed, ashamed.

Amy was going to have your head.

You hurriedly got ready, opting to wear loose-fitting clothing such as a skirt and a v-neck lace blouse. You’ve been wanting to wear it for a while but never got the chance to.

With a glance and a posing session in front of the mirror to test if the outfit was good or if you would need to change for the hundredth time. You grabbed your jacket and keys and headed out the door.

You heard a rumble of a motorcycle engine, it got louder as you made your way to the parking lot.

You spotted Daryl leaning against his sleek motorcycle, a grin across his face.

“Right on time.” Daryl commented, feeling his eyes on you.

“Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” You replied you couldn’t help but smile widely. “You ready to take me for a ride, Judas?”

Daryl handed you a helmet, his fingers brushing against yours. “Only if ya can handle another one, darlin’.” He teased you.

Taking the helmet, you shot him a playful glare as you secured it in place. You swung your leg, and straddled the seat, finding his waist to hold.

“Hold on.” Daryl warned you. “Wouldn’t want ya fallin’ for me too soon.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road, the air suddenly whipping through your hair.

You gasped at the sudden speed, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest…

Amy can get your head later.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight ,

⊰ Chapter 1 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 3 ⊰

[candy616]

Souvenir from the Battlefield 💖

~Phillip Graves x fem!Reader~

❌NSFW ❌ MDNI ❌

I wrote it because you asked me, love @xxavengingangelxx 💖 I'm sorry it's a pure disappointment though.

Y'all are invited to witness my embarrassment of a work. @bellgraves 💖 @rekakamado 💖 @phillip-graves-wife 💖 Please feel free to ignore even if I tagged you, my lovelies.

Warnings: An extremely UNSATISFYING (you've been warned) smut scene, a poor writing of a fifth grade, unsafe knife play (don't try this at home plz), not exactly about a knife play though, I don't know what is it all about to be honest… huh.. Slice of life maybe? I'm no Milton, but this isn't Paradise Lost either. Please don't throw stones at me. I wrote this instead of sleeping haha.

You've been dating for almost a year now, but you still lived in his penthouse that Graves barely could call a home before you appeared in his life and made this place much cozier. Before you've met, he practically lived in HQ, bases and hotels all over the world, not thinking much about having his own place. His place has always been on the battlefield. Graves didn't even have any hobbies, his passion laid only for one thing: making a difference in the world. And he was damn good at it. But being the Number One comes with price - he could never feel at home anywhere. Yes, Shadows were his home, but it was different... Until he met You. You changed his life completely. He found himself craving for more than battles, he started to want his own family, his own home. And You became that home for him. You've planned to buy a huge house, a mansion maybe, somewhere far away from city. A sweet secret place just for the two of you. But this was a rough and busy year. The war was everywhere, no rest for the wicked. And less he could do for now is trying to get home as soon as possible every time. Just like today.

Another quiet, lonely evening, you were sitting on the couch, wearing your nightgown, almost ready to go to sleep, staring at your laptop, mind absorbed with your boring work routine, trying not to think that you have to live without your ridiculously handsome bf for three days more, unable to even contact him this time due to the mission. You were so frustrated and immersed in the screen, you didn't hear someone approaching from behind.

“Honey, I'm home...” His hands were on your shoulders.

You shrieked and jumped, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Phil?! What the Hell?! I thought you are returning only in three days! Why didn't you call me? I would have greeted you properly! God, love... You scared me to death but I'm so happy you are home!” You immediately threw your arms around him, embracing him tightly.

He chuckled hearing your excited babble.

“Sorry, babe. I couldn't call. I came to ya as soon as I could. Besides, ya've been complaining 'bout the lack of excitement, so I thought I could deliver." He grinned, revealing his adorable little fangs. You let out a small, infatuated sigh and leaned into him. His eyes darkened, and he grunted, pulling you closer with his strong arms, holding you tightly in a bear like hug. He leaned in and began kissing you passionately, devouring your mouth as if he were a man starving, making you melt immediately and completely. He kissed you for a few minutes, filling your mouth with his tongue and saliva, not willing to let you go. Eventually, he sighed and loosened his grip, gazing into your eyes and gently stroking your hair. "Damn, babe, I missed ya so bad." His arms squeezed you tightly as he held you close.

“I missed you more... I wish you'd never leave me ever again.” You looked at him and noticed how pale his face was. He looked extremely exhausted. “Jeez, Phil, you need rest. Now.” You took his hand and led him to the couch, making him to sit down.

“Yes, ma'am.” He plopped down heavily on the sofa, leaned back, closed his eyes, stretched out his legs and sighed. You stroked his cheek affectionately, looking at him with love and sympathy. Your poor man deserved a vacation.

“What would you like to eat, love? We have everything you like.” You asked, already pouring him a glass of favorite, extremely expensive whiskey.

“I'm not hungry, sweetie. Well, 'cept for ya, as always.” He grinned showing his fangs again, making you want to drop everything and just take him. But you contained yourself and continued pouring whiskey, wanting to add some ice. “No, no. No ice, sugar, give it to me.” You handed him the glass and he downed it in one gulp.

“Wow... That tough?”

“Ya have no idea, sweetheart” He smirked, returning the glass to you for another one. “Well, I had t' push myself a li'l harder t' return to ya sooner. Definitely worth it.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, love. But I don't want you to exhaust yourself like this...” you gave him another glass, this time with ice.

“So, ya sayin' I shouldn't come back sooner?” He takes a sip and looks at you slyly.

“What? No! You know I didn't mean it like that.”

“'Course, I know, darlin'. C'mere.” He pulled you to sit on his lap and kissed your forehead. You put your hands around his neck and started to kiss his cheek, going down to his jaw and neck, ending on his ear. You bit it and licked it, listening to his satisfied groans and feeling his hands roaming around your body, groping your butt and pulling you closer. You whined softly, nibbling on his ear harder.

“You smell like war.”

“Yeah, sorry, doll, I haven’t changed, went straight home.”

“No, I love it...”

“Ya love it, huh?” He smiled amused and, suddenly you felt something cold against the back of your neck.

“Don't move, sweetheart.”

“Phil...? What are you doing?” You froze, a bit confused.

“Just don't move, hon, alright? Ya wanted a bit of excitement, so I’m gonna give ya some. I'm just playing with ya. You trust me, right?” The tip of his combat knife started to trace down your neck, grazing your skin slightly, not breaking it.

“Of course, I trust you, love. Always. But... Are you going to cut me?”

“Ha! Cut ya? Never. I'd rather cut off my arm than hurt ya, sugar. I'm getting off on the blood of my enemies, ya know me. But seeing my sweet little girl bleed would be such a turn off. So, no, I'm not gonna cut ya, sweetheart.” He started to cut the back of your nightgown to trace your spine down further, giving you goosebumps and you shivered slightly. He stopped and put away the blade.

“Shh... I said don't move, darlin'. Not even the slightest. This thing here is extremely sharp. Don't go makin' me sad, and hold perfectly still, ya hear?” He kissed your forehead again and waited for you to nod. You relaxed your body leaning against him completely.

“Good girl.” He continued to move the knife down your spine, ripping your nightgown and pressing your body tightly to his chest with the other hand. You shut your eyes, trying to hold your breath.

“What if I want you to cut me?”

“Ah-ah. No way, sweetheart. I won't do it, even if ya beg me... Though, I'd like t'hear ya beg right now. C'mon, sugar, beg me.”

“Please...” You whined.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please, love me, Phil.”

He growled loudly.

“My fucking God, baby girl. What are ya doin' to me…” He grabbed you and lifted you, turning you around, your back pressed against his chest now. One hand was around your neck, holding you gently but firmly, the other was pulling up the edge of your nightgown, his fingers caressed your abdomen lightly, slowly going down. His mouth pressed against your ear, the hot breath burns your skin, making your squirm, as he whispered.

“Oh, I'll love ya. I'll love ya so fuckin' good, baby girl.” His fingers started to stroke you slowly.

“My, my, ya're so wet for me, babe...”

You let out a loud moan, quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oh, no, no, no, my darlin'. Lemme hear every sweet sound ya make...” He removed your hand from your face.

“On second thought, ya know what? Suck on it. Like a good girl, c'mon.” He put two fingers in your mouth and you started to lick and suck on it, making him growl.

“Fuck, hon, what a good, obedient girl I have here, huh? Good sweet thing...” You leaned back on him, whimpering and melting while he was stroking you with one hand and making you suck on his fingers with the other. He hadn’t touch you for two months so you were absolutely ecstatic right now, moaning loudly, your eyes rolled back.

“Good girl, good girl, my good little thing...” He stopped stroking you for a moment, shifting his hand to open up the zipper of his jeans and pull out his hard shaft. He started to grind between your butt cheeks, continuing to stroke your hot wet spot. Your breath hitched when he slid his thick finger into your core firmly and start to move it, caressing you inside. You moaned louder as he stretched you, adding the second and the third fingers, praising you, kissing your temple tenderly, his other hand groping and feeling your breasts, pinching your nipples occasionally.

“Alright, now...” He lifted you slightly and guided his length inside you, making you sit on him offhand with one swift motion. You whined and started wreathing, but he stopped you.

“No, no, sweetheart, don't you move. Stay perfectly still for me. Stay good girl for Daddy, yeah?” He held you firmly with his arm, and taking the knife again. “Now, I want ya not to move an inch, or we'll stop this. Understood?”

“Yes, love.” You whispered, out of breath.

“Don't hear ya, darlin”

“Yes, Daddy” You said louder.

“Atta girl, sweetheart.” He kissed your temple again and opened your legs wider with his knees. You both panted, moaned and sighed with every little motion of your bodies.

“Mmm... What a perfect bod ya got here, sugar. Real nice and soft, so ready for me... Close yer eyes, darlin” He murmured seductively and pressed the blade to your stomach carefully, starting to trace it slowly down your sensitive skin. You held your breath, trying not to move, as soft, muffled moans escaped your mouth.

“Do ya feel it, sweetheart? Do ya feel my hard love inside and outside? All over ya, hm? Ya like it? Ya like it, my darlin'?” The blade started to trace your inner thighs so slowly and teasingly, making it almost impossible for you to not flinch, but you managed to stay still.

“Say it.” His now rough demanding tone forced your mushed brain to focus on his voice.

“Yes, ah... Yes, I love it so much!” You whined in reply.

“My good girl.” He caressed your cheek tenderly. "Oh, my, babe, what a mess, what a perfect girl for me...”

You looked down and saw an embarrassing sticky puddle leaking from you. The sight of it made you even hotter, shutting your brain down completely. You closed your eyes again, feeling his left hand holding you across your body steadily, and his right hand slowly dragging the knife along your breasts now.

“That's right, love, ya're so good for me. Keep staying still, don't want to hurt ya even a bit. So good for me, my girl.” He grunted, bringing the knife to your neck and pressing the flat of the blade slightly against your throat. You held your breath and froze completely.

“Now. Do ya wanna say something to me, sugar?” He kissed the crook of your neck, sill pressing the blade gently. You moaned and took a deep breath.

“I love you, Phil. I love you so much.” You whined needlingly.

“Fuck, babe... I love ya more. Ya're my whole damn world, ya hear?” He took away the knife and lifted you up rapidly. His shaft slid out of you with a loud squelching sound and you let out the dirtiest moan possible. He grunted and laid you down on the couch, getting on top of you immediately. “I'm going to fuck ya so nice, babe, ya won't be able to walk for good two weeks.” He growled right in your ear, crushing you under him and nuzzling your neck. Then he stopped, his breath hot on your skin.

“Phil…? Love?” He didn't answer. “Honey...?” The only response was the sound of his calm, deep breathing. You turned your head and looked at him. Your poor exhausted love was sleeping soundly. You chuckled and hugged him tightly, letting him sleep on top of you. “Goodnight, love.” You kissed his cheek and closed your eyes. He mumbled something making you laugh a bit. You kissed the scar on his other cheek and fell asleep peacefully, your arms around him.

…………………………………………….

P.S.: Graves woke up in the middle of the night, extremely horny and fucked you silly, cumming inside you and making you cum for 3 timed in a row. Then he lifted you up from the couch and brought you to your bedroom, fucking you again in your bed. You both fall asleep in each other's arms, completely drained but satisfied. You woke up in the afternoon and took a shower together, trying hard not to start fucking again. One of the Shadow security detail brought you breakfast in bed. You were naked, covered with only a thin blanked. Both the Shadow and you were embarrassed, while Graves were grinning slyly. What a lovely bastard :c

🌸The End🌸 

[whimsynoryia]

Honestly, I'm fucking GLAD David told Whit to shut the fuck up during the trial because now I can confidently say Whit is the most annoying, overrated, insufferable character on the drdt cast, I actually hate that little pink injected cunt

I very sincerely hate that little fake blonde bitch, he's always talking at the worst times possible and making the dumbest fucking comments "lol, David likes Xander!!" And maybe your parents didn't like you that's why you turned out like this you lame excuse of a character.

His whole design is so bland and boring I think I would be more amazed by looking at the hole in the bottom of my sock than by looking at him, whenever he opens his little clown ass mouth I get VIP tickets to snoonefest and I immediately start radiating ZZZzzz... Zzzz... Because how can someone be so bad at comedy?? My emigrant eight year old cousin has got me laughing more times than whit, and she speaks a whole different language.

And his stans are no better like lube is 1.99$ in your nearest convenience store and they STILL insist on dry humping every breadcrumb of whit like calm down buddy there's another 15 characters you don't need to be doing the slipts on his dick to show you like him he looks 12 and acts like a dude that just got to fifth grade so now he can cuss to his hearts content

Maybe mommy isn't alive anymore to tell him when he needs to shut up so he needed a whole grown ass man to do what his dad never did

I never actually liked David all that much but the second he told whit he was a little whiny bitch I tattooed David on the inside of my eyelid so I whenever that chiwawa pubes looking thing showed up on my screen I could calm down

Whit fans are annoying and boring and downright freakos for the most part, against facts there are NO arguments

Anyway!! stream DRTA on Nico Nico Douga xx

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

What kind of interaction would the hunting dogs have with Teen Reader

You don't need blood to be a family

Self-Aware! Platonic! Hunting Dogs x GN! Teen! Reader

Description: You have a new family and real home. You also start attending new school. And some people have questions about your family. Thankfully, you have people who can protect you.

Found family. Flags cameo.

Warning: OOC. PTA meeting. Some of the parents are terrible. Two people don't believe in Found family. I used random names will to choose on 'official' guardian for Reader. Reader were an orphan. Rude comments about Reader. Some very rude words in the Bonus part. English is my second language.

A/N: I have already made post about Hunting Dogs and Adult!Reader. Hunting Dogs interactions with Teen!Reader will mostly stay the same. They still will be incredibly protective over Reader and will try to become a group of elite bodyguards for Teen! Reader. The only difference I can point, is that Fukuchi won't be so openly hostile to Teen! Reader at first (and in case of Child! Reader he won't be hostile at all).

It all started one spring evening.

You were sitting in the school hall, waiting for PTA meeting to end.

You visibly frowned. PTA meetings for your family became really stressful since your first month in a new school.

Not because of your grades or behavior, no. Because of some parents.

_____

Even back in their world, BSD Cast decide to adopt you. So, after getting in real world and obtaining necessary documents, BSD Cast adopted you for real. Well, by documents, you were adopted by Natsume. But, in reality, you have ten fathers (Natsume, Fukuzawa, Mori, Rimbaud, Verlaine, Oda, Fitzgerald, Hawthorne, Dostoevsky, Fukuchi), three mothers (Yosano, Kouyou, Mitchel), three grandfathers (Hirotsu, Taneda, Melville) and a bunch of siblings, uncles and aunts.

You weren't related by blood, but you were family.

Unfortunately, not everyone could accept it.

When all of you moved in a new house, you started to attend new school. And new school means new people, new teachers and PTA.

In this school, PTA meetings were held weekly.

First PTA meeting were held in a week after you start attending new school.

Natsume attended the first PTA meeting. Everything went well.

Fukuzawa attended the second PTA meeting. Some people didn't like the fact you have two fathers. But no one listen to them.

Verlaine attended the third PTA meeting. Parents started questioning, why you have three fathers

Yosano attended the forth PTA meeting. Parents were glad, to finally see a mother. Unfortunately, the meeting was focused on vaccination in schools. And, of course, there were some anti-vax parents. They tried to give flyers about the harm of vaccinations. To Yosano. Yosano was calm, and her voice was sweet as honey. With few words, she told parents what they can do with these flyers, where they can shove them and was wondering, how their kids are still alive.

Anti-vax parents still terrified of meeting Yosano again.

The next seven meetings were attended by Hawthorne, Mitchell, Mori, Kouyou, Fukuzawa, Oda and Fitzgerald. Parents became more and more confused about how many fathers and mothers you have.

But after one PTA meeting, parents have even more questions.

_______________

The meeting was ready to begin. Most of the parents were glad, that none of your fathers or mothers arrived.

Their happiness were short-lived.

Right before the meeting started, someone knocked on the door and opened it.

"We are sorry for been late. It's the PTA meeting, right? [Y/N] told us correct classroom?"

Parents were ready to see another man who will introduce himself as your father.

They didn't expect, that five males will come inside. One of them were carrying an IV pole, second had a scar over his eyes, third was wearing tinted glasses, forth had black streaks in his hair, the fifth one has a beauty mark under his left eye.

At that time, everyone who has attended even one PTA meeting, learned to despise them. People, who haven't attended them, were slightly curious. So, when chance arise, Flags volunteered to attend PTA meeting. Unfortunately, Flags couldn't decide, which one of them will go, so they decide, that they will go together.

One of the mothers, Ms. Greenhill, frowned. She and her family were really vocal about how terrible your family were. Because you had multiple fathers and mothers.

"Let me guess, you are also [Y/N]'s fathers?"

Lippmann shook his head.

"No, we are their uncles."

Ms. Greenhill raised her hand. Her voice was shaking.

"Just... How many relatives do [Y/N] have?!"

Piano Man was the one who answered.

"Sixty seven. Including fathers, mothers, grandfathers, uncles, ants and siblings"

The rest of the meeting went well. Because parents were too shocked to say something rude.

______________

Ever since that day, your school life became tense.

Your classmates were constantly asking about your family.

Some thought that it was cool to have a big family. Others thought that you are all sick.

You ignored them. You loved your family. And this is more important than others people opinions.

On PTA meetings, other parents try to get a rise out of BSD Cast, but they didn't succeed.

You just continue attending school.

BSD Cast continue attending PTA meetings.

Today was Hunting Dogs' turn. Today's meeting were hold earlier than usual, so Fukuchi offered you to wait for them, so you six can grab a dinner later.

_______

Classroom door opened. Patents were leaving class. The meeting was over. You noticed a familiar mop of red rust hair. Soon your older brother Tachihara was standing near you. He ruffled your hair.

"Hey, [Y/N], ready to go grab some food?"

You close your eyes in bliss.

"Yup. I am so hungry, I could eat a horse."

Tachihara chuckled.

"Me too, kiddo. After listening to this people," Tachihara cast a quick glance at parents detection. "I need to eat something good to improve my mood."

You tilt your head.

"Did they say something that crossed the line?"

Instead of Tachihara, Uncle Jouno answered you. He gives you a sideways hug.

"Nothing too different from other times. 'You are a bad influence', 'why [Y/N] have so many fathers and mothers?'. Their normal yapping." Jouno start whispering, so only you and Tachihara can hear him. "And here I thought that we are supposed to be dogs and do all the yapping on meetings."

You three laugh. Other parents glared at you, but they didn't say anything. They were a little bit nervous because of Hunting Dogs. Despite not wearing their uniform and not having their swords, Fukuchi, Teruko, Tetchou, Jouno and Tachihara do look scary enough.

Aunt Teruko joined you three. She was glaring at The Jacksons. You remembered, that they were as vocal against you as The Greenhills. Moreover, once, they tried to harass Kenji. They called him an idiot from a dirty village. Thankfully for them, Kenji wasn't resentful. You noticed, that Uncle Tetchou was also glaring at Jacksons, while discussing something with Dad Fukuchi.

Teruko squinted for the last time and looked at you.

"[Y/N], you know, I kind of disappointed in you."

After noticing your confused face, Teruko quickly added.

"You have good grades. You do your homework. You don't pick up fights! You don't let me be a strict aunt! I wanted to be a strict aunt from time to time."

You huff and grinned. You opened your arms, inviting Teruko to hug you.

"Well, sorry, Aunt Teruko, can't help it. But, I hope you don't want to be and Aunt who pays for hugs. I will hug you for free."

Teruko grins playfully and crushed you in a hug.

"This one is acceptable."

Then you heard some arguing. All of you turned around.

Fukuchi was arguing with Mr. And Ms. Greenhills. Tetchou was slowly backing away, closer to you.

Some parents remained. They thought that they will see an interesting show.

Meanwhile, Fukuchi was growling.

"Will you stop harassing my kid and family, you two? We aren't bothering anyone! We are a simple family!"

Mr. Greenhill spits.

"You aren't a normal family! You are a bunch of unrelated people who made our kids think that having multiple partners is fine! That having a family bond with people that aren't related to you are fine!"

You whisper. Only Hunting Dogs heard you.

"Well… technically, consensual polygamy or polyandry are fine... And adoption existed for a long time."

Teruko reassuringly squeezed your hand.

Fukuchi hissed.

"Listen here, [Y/N] are our kid. I am their father. Fukuzawa is also their father. So as Mori, Verlaine, Rimbaud and Natsume. All of us are their family. We don't need blood to love them and wanting the best for them! So stop been a..."

Mr. Greenhill got furious.

"I will say what I want about you and the little bastards you have adopted!"

Ms. Greenhill looked at you with disgust.

"I am pretty sure that this rat will end in the slums with such an unnatural family."

The hall became quiet. Fukuchi breath in and out. He looked at you and nodded.

Tetchou immediately picked you up and put you on his back. Like he wants to give you a piggyback ride.

Jouno covered your ears.

Tachihara covered your eyes.

Teruko stand closer to Fukuchi.

Tetchou start moving with you on his back. He, Tachihara and Jouno were moving in the same speed, so your ears and eyes won't be stay uncovered.

You didn't see, how Fukuchi opened his mouth.

______

Tachihara and Jouno finally let go of your eyes and ears only when you were two blocks away from school.

Tetchou still carried you on his back. He looked up.

"Are you okay, [Y/N]?"

You nodded.

"Mhm. It wasn't the worst thing someone called me."

Tetchou smiles. He starts walking faster.

"Well, let's go and grab this dinner. Captain and Teruko-san will join us later."

You smile and looked back.

"You know... Today, the school library holds reading hours for pre-schoolers."

Jouno raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

You nervously giggled

"I think, they haven't finished yet. And kids heard everything Dad Fukuchi were saying right now."

The silence could be cut with a knife.

Tachihara, Jouno and Tetchou start walking faster.

Together, four of you said.

"Problems of tomorrow us"

_________

Bonus.

________

"Captain Fukuchi, can you, please, explain, where did a bunch of toddlers learned the words 'slum-trawling strumpet' and 'syphilitic eunuch' and why is school blaming you and Teruko?"

"Chef Taneda... It's a very long story..."

[just-jordie-things]

ik you’ve written abt megumi a lot lately but i’m in deep right now lol😭 can i request a childhood friends to lovers with him and the readers met everyone that he knows except Itadori and Nobara? i feel like meeting them with him would be very chaotic and possibly embarrassing for him

childhood friends to lovers >>>

you're probably the only friend he made in grade school, unless you count tsumiki. honestly megumi isn't sure why you insisted on hanging out with him during recess or lunch, seeing his reputation was a little... well, you know how it was.

at first he's probably a little annoyed that you keep insisting on hanging around him, but eventually you're just a constant in his life. he wouldn't admit it, but on days that you stayed home sick or had an appointment during school hours, he was a little bit lonely.

(tsumiki teases him constantly and is always asking about you)

it's not until you admit a secret to him that he decides you probably are his best friend, and will finally admit it out loud. he'll never forget the nervous way you told him that you could see monsters, afraid that he would laugh and make fun of you for such a stupid thing. you're surprised when he sits down with you and tells you all about curses and jujutsu sorcerers and the annoying man that had essentially adopted him to strengthen his abilities in the hopes that one day he could kill those monsters.

(you fall a little in love with him that day in the fifth grade when he tells you that you don't have to be afraid of the monsters bc he'll always be around to scare 'em off)

you remain attached at the hip all through middle school, learning everything about each other during study halls and late nights staying up on the phone together. you talk to him about your cursed technique, and he spends hours with you trying to better understand it's capabilities. neither one of you have any other friends, and if you thought enough about it you'd probably realize you're social rejects. but neither of you care. you had each other and you understood each other, and that was all that really mattered.

the summer before high school, megumi tells you that it was time for him to go to a different school, where he could learn more about curses and follow the path to being a proper sorcerer. you tell him you're happy for him, that you're proud of him, and you know he'll succeed in anything he puts his mind too. he's blushing. you're holding back tears.

you don't want him to go. you couldn't possibly ask him to stay.

and then one day, just before the school year started, a weird man in dark sunglasses and the whitest hair you've ever seen approaches you while you're waiting for your order to be called at your favorite cafe.

he tells you who he is, and that megumi had spent many, many hours talking about you and your abilities. he hands you a brochure, and tells you that he wants you to enroll at jujutsu tech. at first you refuse, you're too afraid of the monsters, and you came from a family of non-curse users. you'd never even told them about your abilities. gojo tells you that he'd already spoken to your parents, and he'd convinced them to let you go to a private school under the guise of your outstanding academic record.

with that, you couldn't really refuse.

megumi is ecstatic when gojo brings you to the school. gojo doesn't think he's ever seen him so happy, and he's surprised when he hugs you tightly, overcome with joy that he didn't have to be apart from his favorite person.

you're both blushing.

in the two weeks before school starts, you help each other unpack and decorate in your little dorms, which are just down the hall from each other. you admit to megumi that you're not sure if this was the right path for you, and he tells you that no matter any anxiety you might have about your new life, he'd be there to help every step of the way.

your heart skips a beat when you look up into his azure eyes, knowing that he meant every word he said. are you supposed to feel this warm and fluttery for your friends? you're not sure, but you enjoy the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, so you don't think too much about it.

you spend almost every waking minute together before school starts. it's the best time of your life. you don't think you've ever been happier. megumi feels the same. he doesn't think he's ever laughed so much in his life spending all this extra time with you that he didn't get as much when you were still growing up.

the night that he's sent to find the cursed object that was sukuna's finger, you had been practicing applying your cursed technique with a teacher back at the school. apparently the blonde man with the spotted tie was the only one patient enough to train with you from the afternoon to well into the evening.

you aren't aware of the events that transpired with one itadori yuji. you had far too much catching up to do. megumi briefly mentions another student joining our class, but he doesn't give away too much information. he'd rather hear about how far you're coming along with your technique, anyways.

a few days later, your mentor Nanami tells you there will be yet another student joining you, a young girl this time. you're excited at the prospect of making new friends.

megumi dreads it.

gojo had already mentioned you (more specifically, he'd said "just wait until you meet (y/n)! I'm sure megumi will be happy to introduce you to his girl!") to the three of them on the last assignment they'd taken together. yuji and nobara had squealed at the prospect of their grouchy classmate having a girl. megumi doesn't know how yet, but he knows he'll have to get gojo back for that one.

it's not until a few days after nobara has joined the team that you finally have some free time away from training, and you suggest to megumi that all four of you should have some bonding time.

"we're classmates. we bond enough" he'd replied gruffly, going back to the book he was reading. but you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and insisted that you must meet them.

"you think they won't like me?" you ask when he continues to shoot the idea down.

megumi huffs, finally dropping the book to his lap and staring blankly at you. you scooted closer to him on his bed.

"you're not embarrassed of me are you, megumi?" you tease, grinning ear to ear.

"course not" he muttered, turning away in hopes that you wouldn't see his blushing face.

you can still see the red tips of his ears, and that feeling of butterflies that you'd been experiencing lately returned. you tease him for his blushing. he gives in with a defeated sigh, throwing his head back against the wall as he agrees to a lunch with your new classmates.

you clap your hands, and lean forward to press your lips to his cheek without thinking. he thinks his heart might burst he could die right there. he gets up and leaves the room hastily under the excuse of finding nobara and yuji.

when the lunch finally rolls around, he contemplates pretending to be sick so he didn't have to go. he couldn't possibly handle yuji and nobara teasing him- which was bound to happen.

but you're so excited, you'd spent all morning with him trying to find the right thing to wear- despite megumi repeatedly telling you that anything was fine, and he was just going to wear his uniform.

"well that's different, you look good in your uniform. it makes me look boxy" you told him, before grabbing a different hanger and heading back into the bathroom to change for the hundredth time.

he feels hot suddenly at the compliment. you continued to fluster him, and it was starting to drive him crazy.

when you emerge in a new outfit, megumi swallows his fear (and maybe his pride too).

"that looks good," he tells you as you look over the outfit in your mirror. "you look, uh, pretty"

you grin, finding it adorable how much he struggled to compliment you. you decide this is the one, and beckon him to come with you to meet your new friends at the gate.

"they're loud," megumi warns. "and... annoying" he adds.

"I don't mind," you shrug, not thinking twice about his cautious words. "I think it'll be good for us to branch out a little"

megumi's hands are closed in tight, clammy fists at his sides.

"i guess" he mumbles. he's never felt so much anxiety in his life before.

(y/n) reaches a hand out to his, gently prodding open his fist and linking her fingers through his. he stops in his tracks, and she turns to look at him, puzzled.

"what's been bothering you?" she asks, worried.

megumi looks anywhere but at her face. all he can think about was how soft the palm of her hand is, and how it seemed to fit perfectly in his. his heart's racing. his mind is buzzing with thoughts of her. but even with her standing in front of him, he can't bring himself to look at her.

"it's stupid"

(y/n) shrugs her shoulders. "so?"

its a simple response, but it seems to do the trick to get herself catapulted over his high, high walls, because he gives in and fucking admits it already.

"they kinda know that i... like you," he says, eyes dropping to hers to watch her reaction closely. "like you like... more than friends like each other"

her mouth forms a little 'o' and her cheeks and quickly turning a rosy shade of pink. she processes the words carefully, before her lips break into a smile, and she squeezes the hand she's holding.

"megumi," she says warmly. "why does that bother you so much? you don't want them to know?"

he sputters out nonsense.

"well I didn't need them going and- and blabbing off to you! I wanted to be the one to tell you first"

(y/n) chuckles, and drags him along with her so they can continue their walk to the gates.

"I already knew," she shrugged casually.

megumi thinks he's going to die.

"but I appreciate you finally telling me," she adds. "and for what it's worth, I like you too"

he wants to cuss her out for making him so anxious over nothing, but he's so elated that he bites his tongue.

(for now, later that night he'll chew you out for not telling him sooner. you'll giggle and kiss his nose and tell him you like watching him squirm. he'll pull you against him and affectionately call you the devil)

and for what it's worth, megumi wasn't wrong. as soon as your new classmates see your joined hands and megumi's blushing face, it is open season. you want to make them calm down for your sweet, shy boy's sake, but you can't help but giggle along while they childishly, relentlessly tease him for having a soft spot.

the soft spot grows larger as he ducks his face into the collar of his shirt. his hand squeezes yours a little tighter.

silently, you tell him,

any anxiety you might have, I'll be here every step of the way. ___

got a lil carried away. i love megumi he makes me soft :')

[ankh-morporkianpostalworker]

The Use of Robert Moses as a Foil in The Unsleeping City

For those of you who don’t remember 10th grade English and don’t have a degree in Literature from a state school, a foil is a character who exists to contrast another character in order to highlight the characteristics of both characters. There are many great examples of this not only in literature (Hamlet and Laertes, Tybalt and Benvolio, Adam Trask and Cathy Ames) but also in film (Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, Batman and the Joker), comics (see: Batman and the Joker) and a host of other mediums. With all that said, and those examples given, I posit that Robert Moses is a foil for the Heroes of New York in Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City. 

First and most obviously, he is a reflection of Kingston Brown if Kingston Brown wasn’t a strict adherent to Uncle Ben’s axiom. Moses took every bit of power he could for his own use and, in real life, screwed over the city of New York where Brown uses everything he’s given to make the city better (in a flashback, we find out that the first thing Brown asks the Dragon of Bleeker Street after becoming the Vox Populi is how he can use his power to help other people). 

Second, he’s a version of Kugrash that never learned the importance of caring for others. Throughout season one, Kugrash acts as a protector for the homeless and dispossessed of New York, feeding and clothing and protecting them from harm, a lesson he learned after he was cursed by a powerful spellcaster. The people he protects are those who Robert Moses’s realm would destroy, the people Robert Moses cares nothing for. This service comes not purely from penance, but also from a heartfelt desire to help others to the point that he sacrifices his body to save New York. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, is his reaction to the final words of Robert Moses’s phylactery after his (Kugrash’s) sacrifice - greed is good. To quote the man himself -  “ Greed is good, for rat motherfuckers like Robert Moses, but not in our town, not in our fuckin' city!”

Third, Robert Moses is a reflection of Pete if Pete had given in to corruption and temptation and hatred and greed, which he almost does multiple times in the series, the final time being in Showdown at the Stock Exchange, the penultimate fight of season one. This final choice is offered as two options on the Wild Magic Table - embrace the darkness to match Robert Moses in power, or resist temptation and rise above, Pete choosing the later. For this rejection of evil, Pete is killed (I choose to read the game of Eenie Miney Minie Mo as being a theatrically show that Robert Moses put on just to prove how evil he is). 

Fourth, both he and Misty/Rowan feed on the power of the city for their own ends, Robert to control it and Misty to maintain her youth and beauty. The difference lies in the fact that, as Nod points out, Misty/Rowan gives back to the people more than she takes, giving them hope and joy (and using her magic to protect the people), while Robert Moses gives nothing in return. She also cares for the immaterial things in life, like beauty and art and entertainment, while he does not.

Fifth, Ricky’s self-sacrificing nature is in stark contrast to Robert Moses’s. Throughout the series, Ricky puts himself on the line to protect others, a good portion of his magic being used to protect others from harm and the rest (notably his smites) used in defense of the innocent. In the final battle of season one, against Robert Moses’s nightmarish American Dream, he uses an ability that he knows will almost certainly kill him. His words to Kingston Brown moments before the sacrifice - “You got me if you got me” - show that while he would like to come back and knows his friend will do what he can to make that happen, he also knows that there’s a chance that this is the end for him, and he does it anyway, a sacrifice Robert Moses would never accept. 

Finally, there’s Sofia. Sofia was the hardest of these to write about, but eventually I realize that the contrast comes in relation to wealth - Sof rejects her family’s ill-gotten wealth, choosing to live (temporarily) as a monk with little more than the contents of a backpack to her name, while Robert Moses craves wealth so much that his whole plan revolves around creating a new realm in New York city specifically for his own gain. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. 

There’s also the fact that the heroes all love New York while Robert Moses sees it as a tool for his own gain, but that mostly goes without saying. 

I’m about 90% sure that this is the longest post I’ve made on this site but I really enjoyed writing it. I definitely plan on making more like it, analyzing D&D series through a serious literary lens and discussing the uses of literary and narrative techniques, although these won’t be as frequent as my shorter observations. 

If you got all the way through this, thank you and you’re awesome. 

[its-vannah]

Gold Rush | Graham Dunne x Reader

Request from @ariianelle: hey!! you're currently carrying the djats fics rn and I was wondering if you could write a graham x reader inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift? specifically fluff with a happy ending? mainly just Graham pining over the reader? <3

A/N: This may be my favorite Graham fic I've ever written. It was entertaining to no end—and I'm usually pretty hard on my work.

Warnings: Mentions of kidneys and vomit

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being in the spotlight was exhausting. There were times you wish you could have five minutes, just five to yourself. But that wasn't the kind of world you lived in.

Cameras were constantly flashing around you, microphones were being put into your face, fans were asking for your autograph. You could barely catch your breath.

You hadn't asked for any of this. Not the fame or the fortune. From a young age, you were forced into acting lessons by your parents who had big dreams of their daughter fitting in with high society.

The first movie you ever did cemented your place in Hollywood as a sexy, sultry, up and coming actress. You were fifteen. There shouldn't have been anything sexy or sultry about you.

After the release of "The Governor's Daughter", you were launched fullforce into a career you never wanted. No matter how many carpets you walked down or how many after parties you attended, none of it made the life you were living any easier.

You were living your parents dream, not your own.

Those thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your dressing room door. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the front of your dress, opening the door.

The SNL manager stood outside, pointing to the face of his watch, "You're on in seven."

You got the memo, shutting the door behind you and making your way to the stage. But an ongoing conversation in a dressing room beside yours caught your attention.

"You don't get it, Billy, she's the most famous actress of the decade. She's our Evelyn Hugo," One man exclaimed.

Another man laughed, "Evelyn Hugo is still the actress of our decade."

"No, you don't get it, she's different. Everybody wants her. Everybody. I heard one guy sold his kidney just to meet her."

"A kidney? Graham, where are you getting this from?"

A sheepish laugh escaped the other man's lips, "The tabloids."

"You, as much as anyone, should know to never trust the tabloids," He sighed, "Graham, if you like her so much, why don't you ask her out?"

"Have you seen her? She's beautiful, she grew up beautiful," The man, Graham, said, "I don't have a chance with her. I don't even think I'd be able to talk around her."

A groan escaped the other man, "You never know. Michelle Wieler liked you in fifth grade and according to you, she was the prettiest girl in the whole school."

"Billy..."

A sudden snapping behind you snapping you out of your trance, "Snap, snap, Y/N, time to get out on that stage."

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your SNL monologue.

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

At the end of your monologue, you made an announcement to a happy crowd, "Stuck around because after break, Daisy Jones and The Six will perform their hit single, Look At Us Now!"

The audience erupted into applause, on the edge of their seats to listen to the increasingly popular song. It hadn't been out long, but it was already a classic in their eyes.

Walking back of stage to prepare for a skit, you had little to change about your appearance. The segement revolved around your character going on a date at a formal restaurant that goes horribly wrong.

All you needed was a quick touch up. You were in and out of your dressing room in the snap of a finger, taking your place beside the sound tech. You always appreciated those behind the scenes. They never got enough credit.

Beside you, two men walked up, each with a head full of curls. One looked like he had been through hell while the other looked like he had just seen a ghost.

He began whispering to the man beside him, his eges glued to you. But the man simply elbowed him in the ribs, effectively shushing him.

He turned towards you, extending his hand, "Excuse me? Big fan of your work, name's Billy Dunne."

You shook his hand, giving him a warm smile, "Y/N L/N."

Billy nodded to the man on his left, "This is Graham. He's a bit starstruck, if you can't tell."

Your eyebrows raised. So this was the Graham who had been gushing about you in the dressing room. He was cute, that you couldn't deny. But his naivety got in his way.

"Graham, is it?" You smiled, moving in front of him, leaning in to hug him.

He tensed up, shock settling into his features as he looked at Billy, trying to contain his excitement.

Before you pulled away, you whispered in his ear, "For future reference, it was both kidneys."

You pulled away from him immediately after, sauntering off in the other direction.

Graham turned towards his brother, his jaw open.

Billy gave him a questioning look, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Did you tell her?" He was practically shaking out of his skin.

"Tell who what?"

Graham tried to take a deep breath, his foot rapping against the floor, "Did you tell Y/N about the kidney thing? What I said?"

"I've been with you the whole time, dumbass."

"God, I'm an idiot," Graham cursed himself while his brother wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, Graham, you have so much to learn."

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

After the band delivered a flawless performance, you walked out on stage to do your skit. Even now, after years of walking out in front of an audience, you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.

Taking a seat on a wooden chair in front of a table draped in white cloth, you waited for your costar to join you.

That's when Graham Dunne was pushed out on stage, nervously smiling at the crowd.

Amused, you crossed your legs and leaned in to whisper as he sat down, "Where's Don?"

"Puking in one of the stalls in the men's room," He responded.

"So they sent you?" You asked, the corners of your lips lifting.

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, "I can tell them to bring somebody else—"

"No, stay. I just hope you can read the cards."

Graham nodded, "About earlier—"

"And action!" Someone yelled off set, cutting the youngest Dunne off.

With that, Graham launched into his first SNL skit.

-------

After the skit, you and Graham walked off stage, laughing at one another.

"I was awful!" He exclaimed, unable to control himself.

"You were hilarious," You replied, "Anyone else would've thought you just had impeccable comedic timing."

"Or that I'm a dumbass!"

You shrugged, "Well, I think you did wonderfully."

"How wonderfully?" He asked, looking at you expectantly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Wonderful enough that I'll let you ask me on a date," You smiled, adding, "I mean, according to you, everyone wants me."

He cringed, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to tell you about over dinner, if you'd ask me."

He nodded, straightening himself out, "Y/N, will you go on a date with me?"

You pretended to hesitate, "I don't know, let me think about it..."

Graham's eyes widened, having already fallen victim to your relentless teasing.

You reached for his hand, jokingly checking his pulse, "I was teasing, Mr. Dunne."

Nodding, he grinned, "Friday, at six?"

"I think that could be arranged."

"I won't have to give up a kidney, will I?"

You took his arm, linking it through yours, "Oh, Mr. Dunne, you have so much to learn."

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 1

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, mentions of sexual harassment, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This is a repost from my series, False Confidence. It was originally posted in March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Your brain short circuits. He’s kissing you. This complete stranger is kissing you. It’s been years since someone kissed you. You let out a squeak of surprise and he takes advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in. You’re dumbfounded now. You’ve definitely never been kissed like this. You’ve seen it before, of course, in movies, and on TV. You even walked in on Jeremy and one of the first-grade teachers in the copy room by accident once. But you never imagined that you’d ever get kissed like this. It’s all hunger and you feel like you’re being devoured, every rational thought fleeing your head as you’re overwhelmed by the new sensations. You’re not kissing him back, but frankly, that’s because you have no idea how. You barely know how to kiss normally but this? This is completely new territory. You’re stiff as a board as his hands go to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh there. You’re dizzy from all the new sensations and you think you might combust.

“JAVY MACHADO, GET AWAY FROM HER!” Josie’s voice breaks through the haze and the man pulls away. You watch a string of saliva connect your mouths before snapping like the tension between you. Your senses flood back and you stumble away from the man, Javy, shoving at his shoulders in the process, a mortified squeak escaping your lips. He doesn’t move an inch and you’re acutely aware of how much pure muscle he’s made of.

You hear the crack before you register that Josie’s crossed the short distance between you and slapped Javy across the face. Your eyes widen in horror at the brazen act of violence as you take in the fierce protectiveness in Josie’s eyes. To his credit, Javy looks surprised too, raising a hand to touch the warming skin of his cheek.

“Jo, what’s going on!” Reuben is jogging down the hallway behind her, shock on his face as he takes in the scene unfolding before him.

“This pig just assaulted Roadie!” She exclaims and you’re still frozen where you stand but you can feel the strange feeling of your kiss-swollen lips. Reuben turns to you and takes in your mortified expression before rounding on Javy.

“Javy, what the fuck man? What’s going on?” You’ve never seen Reuben genuinely angry. Usually, he’s pretty easygoing and you’re surprised by the thunderous expression on his face. Javy looks equally surprised as the older man glares down at him.

“I didn’t know who she was!” Javy protests, but Josie just levels a glare at him as she moves to place a protective arm around your trembling shoulders.

“What’s going on?” A hard voice interrupts Javy’s pleas and you all turn to see a blonde man striding down the hall. He’s classically handsome but right now his eyebrows are pinched together as he surveys the scene in front of him. He crosses his muscular arms across his chest as he levels a hard stare at Javy who meets it with one of his own. The two are locked in a silent battle until the click of high heels on the concrete floor sounds and a woman dressed in a suit rounds the corner, her lips pinched in a thin line. She walks up to the blonde and regards the two men locked in silent conversation before turning to Reuben, Josie, and you.

“Alright, someone needs to tell me what’s going on right now.”

Javy takes a deep breath but doesn’t break eye contact with the blonde as he answers, “I kissed her.” The woman’s eyebrows furrow as she scans the crowd and lights on you at last. You see her eyes widen slightly with surprise, moving to Josie’s arm around your shoulder before tearing her gaze back to Javy.

“You kissed her?”

“Kissed her, my ass. Your tongue was halfway down her throat when I found you.” Josie scoffs from beside you and you flinch instinctively in embarrassment as you’re reminded of the way Javy kissed you. The woman’s eyes snap to you at the movement and you watch her eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Consensually?” She asks, directed at you but you can’t find your voice. There are too many people here. You know Josie and Reuben but there are three complete strangers all fixing their attention on you and you feel your throat dry out. Swallowing doesn’t help and your heartbeat quickens at the realization that they're waiting for you. Your whole body is still in fight-or-flight and your brain is screaming at you to just answer while the rest of you refuses to comply. Josie catches onto the change in your breathing as you start to hyperventilate shallowly. The hand on your shoulder squeezes gently, trying to ground you but you’re losing control quickly. You faintly hear Reuben call your name but the sound is far away as you retreat into yourself. You’re shutting down even as you’re trying to fight it, to keep yourself together until you have some privacy. There are voices speaking but you’re not paying attention, trying your best to focus on the sound of your breathing as you struggle to get it under control. You’re losing the battle with your mind when there’s a comforting hand on your arm, gently leading you away and while you don’t catch the accompanying words, you follow willingly, happy to escape the nightmare.

***

The next morning you’re feeling better. You’ve pushed the memory of last night into a dark corner of your mind, eager to get back to your regular life. You never have to see him again. You have an out from future hockey games and events involving the players. For now, you’re just trying to move forward, putting last night’s events in your past, out of sight and out of mind. You’re only thinking of the future when you arrive at work this morning. You decide to duck into the teacher’s lounge in search of coffee before your students start arriving and while you had planned for your detour to be quick and unnoticeable like they usually are, your entrance is heralded by a wolf whistle from Jeremy who’s leaning against the counter by the coffee maker. You freeze on the spot, just barely through the doorway, pinned by a pair of hazel eyes that dance with dangerous amusement.

“Damn, Roadie, I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” His thin lips curl into a smirk that sends shivers running down your spine as confusion clouds your face. “After Dan’s little announcement yesterday, I’ll admit, I was worried about you, but you managed to surprise even me.” Your brow furrows in confusion and he examines your expression, cocking his head to the side. H you’re not sure what he finds in your expression but his smirk widens and then he turns to his phone, swiping at the screen a few times before he spins it around so you can see its contents and your stomach drops to the floor.

You can’t breathe. You’re pretty sure your heart has stopped breathing as you take in the image on his screen. You’re looking at yourself and dread fills your veins like ice as you take in the image of you and Javy from last night. In your panic, you hadn’t realized the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the San Diego night and you’d definitely not spotted the sneaky photographer that had managed to capture the intimate moment between you and Javy. His hands are squeezing your hips in the photo and you feel the ghost of their pressure on them now as the memory you’d struggled to bury in the back of your mind shoots back to the front. From the angle, it’s not possible to tell that you’re ramrod straight and not kissing him back. It’s the perfect picture of a clandestine tryst and you feel your stomach lurch, threatening to empty its meager contents onto the floor of the teacher’s lounge.

Jeremy’s smirk widens at the blatant look of horror on your face. You’re speechless but saved from responding when a firm hand snatches up Jeremy’s phone. “Where’d you get this, Jeremy?” Josie’s voice is surprisingly calm as she examines the trans wreck on his screen while you struggle to find a way to make the world stop crumbling around you. Josie’s voice sounds like it’s underwater as she tears into Jeremy, demanding the details but you’re drowning in the loudness of your mind. It’s all white noise that’s getting louder and louder.

You don’t register when Josie grabs your arm, steering you out of the teacher’s lounge, only coming back to the present when her hands are on your cheeks. You blink as her brown eyes bore into yours. “I said, are you okay, Roadie?” You start to nod until she gives you a disbelieving look and then switch to shaking your head. She nods, keeping her hands on your face, grounding you. “Can you teach? Because you’re going to have twenty-four kids that need you to be present in about fifteen minutes.” You swallow, then. The reminder of your kids grounding you better than anything else.

“Yes.” You say firmly and she nods, releasing your face. Determination fills your body and chases away the blind panic and anxiety. No matter what’s going on in your personal life, for the next seven hours your kids need you so you’ll be there. It’s one thing you refuse to give ground on. As a teacher, you’re responsible for your twenty-four students and you’re fiercely protective of them. School is a place that should be safe and nurturing for them, and they deserve to have as much stability as possible here. That means that you bring the best version of yourself every day, rain or shine. You glance back at the teacher’s lounge mournfully. “So much for grabbing coffee,” you mutter and Josie squeezes your shoulder gently.

“You go get set up, I’ll get you the coffee.” You give her a tired smile as she shoos you back towards your classroom.

“Thank you, Josie.” You call back to her as she heads back towards the lion’s den that is the teachers’ lounge. No doubt, Jeremy’s not the only one to have seen the photo and even if he was, he’s definitely busy showing it to anyone with eyes.

“That’s what friends are for, Roadie.” She reminds you with a kind smile.

***

“What the FUCK did you think you were doing?” Javy winces at the harsh tone of Zam, his PR rep who looks ready to dive over the desk separating them to strangle him. It’s been a long morning. Ever since the paparazzi photos from last night came out, Zam has been doing everything within her power to play damage control. Of course, he feels guilty. She’s one of his best friends. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think she’s overreacting. It’s not the first time a photo of him and a woman has gotten out. They're a dime a dozen at this point. If it’s not the paparazzi leaking them, it’s the girls themselves, proud of their one-night-stand with an NHL player. It’s not like he tries to hide from the cameras, he doesn’t really mind them. Why else would his meet-up spot with puck bunnies be a hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows?

“I told you already, I didn’t know who she was! I thought she was a puck bunny! Look, I said I was sorry, why are you making such a big deal about this?!” Zam lets out an astounded laugh at that and he gets an unexpected smack to the back of the head. Yelping in surprise, he turns to glare at his best friend, and captain of the Dogfighters, Jake Seresin where he’s leaning against the wall behind Javy. Jake’s face is stormy as he glares at Javy. “What the fuck, man!” Javy snaps and Jake’s hands clench into fists.

“What the fuck? What the fuck is that you’re not taking this even remotely seriously.” He snaps, anger lacing his words.

“Why should I! It’s just some pictures! That happens almost every night, why is it suddenly intervention-worthy? I didn’t even sleep with her, it’s just a kiss.” Zam scoffs behind him and he turns to face her again and her face is a mask of quiet rage.

“I’d love to see how that holds up in court if she sues for sexual assault.” Javy’s blood runs cold.

“What? She wouldn’t.” Suddenly not even he believes the shaky words.

“You kissed her, initiated physical contact, and groped her non-consensually. Not to mention there’s photographic evidence.” Zam’s voice is cold and bitter as she glares at him. “And if you say ‘it’s just a kiss’ one more fucking time I’m going to bring Bugs in here so you can say it to her face.”

Javy feels like he’s had a bucket of ice water dumped on him as shame spreads through his body. He looks down at his hands, unable to meet Zam’s eyes. Bugs, the team physician and Jake’s girlfriend, had been forcibly kissed by one of her superiors at her previous job and the ramifications of that assault had almost ruined her career. He loves Bugs, she’s his friend, his best friend’s girl, and one hell of a doctor. The reminder of the pain she’s been through is like a knife to his heart and the fact that he’d just hurt another girl the way she’d been hurt is a harsh wake-up call.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt her.” He murmurs, knowing the words don’t even begin to right the wrong he’s caused but he can’t stay silent.

“Well, you can explain that to her when she gets here,” Zam says and he can hear the exhaustion in her voice as his head shoots back up. You’re coming here? Zam must see the question in his eyes since she offers up the answer without him having to ask. “I asked her to come here so we can try to settle this without getting lawyers involved and blowing this up any bigger than it already is. She pauses before adding, “Josie called this morning and said she’s not doing great.” Zam grimaces in solidarity with the girl that Javy realizes he doesn’t even know the name of. Guilt twists the knife even tighter in his chest.

“They’re just in here,” a familiar voice says on the other side of the door to Zam’s office, and after knocking, Nat walks in followed by you and Josie Fitch. Natasha is one of the equipment managers for the Dogfighters and she and Javy have been friends since high school. They played for the boys and girls hockey teams respectively but became close when they took junior English together. She’s one of his oldest friends and the tired look she gives him makes him want to sink through his chair and the floor. Josie directs you to sit in the chair next to Javy and he shifts to give you space, wanting you to feel comfortable. One glance at your posture, however, tells him that’s not happening anytime soon. Your shoulders are tense and your hands are trembling as you clasp them in your lap. In that moment, staring at you as just a girl, not a puck bunny, he sees how terrified you are, and protectiveness battles with guilt in his heart. He’s sickly reminded of his youngest sister as he watches you pick at the bright blue fabric of your dress where it falls over your knees.

***

You’re nervous. It’s to be expected. You didn’t expect to come back to Hard Deck arena ever again, and definitely not so soon. Even then, you never expected to see Javy Machado again, at least not without glass separating you from the hockey rink. He’s dressed in simple athletic wear and doesn’t seem so scary without all the extra hockey padding. He has his hands casually resting on the desk of the woman you recognize from last night. She has a worried look on her face as she offers you a gentle smile.

“Hi there,” she addresses you by your name, introducing herself as Zam, the Dogfighters’s PR rep, before clasping her hands on the table and you catch sight of her perfectly manicured nails. “I want to apologize profusely for last night and all the ensuing chaos. I called you here today so that we can make sure we’re on the same page. I also wanted to see if we could settle any potential legal concerns amidst ourselves before getting any lawyers involved.” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Legal concerns?” Your stomach is a mess of nerves at the idea of getting sued.

“You’re well within your rights to sue for sexual assault, Roadie,” Josie speaks up and you turn to look at her, surprise on your face. Her expression is hard and you look back to Zam. She looks tired but you see the understanding and solidarity in her eyes even as she tries to do her job, even if it goes against her personal feelings onthe matter.

“What? No, I wouldn’t even consider that!” You burst out, still taken by surprise at the mere suggestion. Zam’s eyes widen in surprise as she takes in your words.

“Why not?” Josie pipes up and you shake your head.

“Plenty of reasons, starting with the fact that I can’t afford a lawyer.” You wince at the idea of how much legal representation would begin to cost compared to your meager teaching salary.

“Bullshit, we’ll pay for the lawyer if that’s what you want,” Josie says, protectiveness flaring up in her eyes.

“It’s not.” You say, voice still trembling slightly even as you force the hard edge into it. You turn back to face Zam. “I’m not suing, so you don’t have to worry about that.” You feel eyes burning into the side of your head and you turn to see Javy watching you with equal parts curiosity and apprehension.

“Hi,” he offers when he realizes he has your attention. “I’m Javy,” he extends a hand for you to shake before thinking twice about it and pulls it back. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about what happened last night.” You think you see actual guilt flit through his eyes and you can tell he’s having trouble not averting his gaze. “I thought you were someone else and while that doesn’t make up for it, I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” the brunette woman who led you to Zam’s office, Nat you think her name was, speaks up from where she’s leaning against the wall next to the blonde man. She glares at Javy and you almost feel bad for him as he grimaces.

“So, Roadie?” The blonde man from last night leaving against the wall says, eyebrow quirking curiously. You turn to him, surprised that he’s addressing you. “What’s that about?” Your face heats at the change in topic but you clear your throat to answer him.

“It’s a nickname from work,” you explain. “It’s short for Roadrunner like the Looney Tunes character because apparently I dash around a lot.”

“You do,” Josie says and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well Roadie, I wish we’d met under better circumstances and I’m sorry about all this but it’s good to meet you, I’m Jake, Captain of the Dogfighters.” He holds out a hand that you take and shake, tentatively. His genial smile puts you at ease and you relax a little in your chair.

“Well, with that out of the way, let’s talk about how we’re going to move forward,” Zam says, taking back command of the room. “I’ve taken steps to protect your identity as much as possible, Roadie. If you still feel unsafe we can talk about a security detail or something more casual like having someone watch you from afar. I’ve also spoken to the principal of Acacia Academy about keeping things under wraps in case the press do find out where you work.” You nod cautiously, trying to process the influx of information. “Unfortunately I can’t make the photos go away but the paparazzi are fickle, they’ll move onto the next story as soon as they realize we’re not giving them anything.”

“But what if we did?” Josie speaks up then and all the attention turns to her. She’s got her thinking face on and you feel premature dread in your stomach as a thoughtful smile crosses her face.

“What do you mean?” Zam looks confused and it’s clear she’s as in the dark as everyone else.

“Well, you said it yourself, they’ll lose interest if we don’t give them anything. So why don’t we give them something? We have a golden opportunity that could be mutually beneficial.” Josie says, tilting her head in Javy’s direction. “Reuben tells me you’ve been trying to get this guy to settle down for months now. And Roadie,” she turns to you and you give her a confused look. “You need a solution to Dan’s new rule.” Your eyes widen in shock and horror as it dawns on you exactly what Josie’s suggesting.

“Wait, what rule?” Zam speaks up, her brow furrowed in confusion even as you can see the gears in her brain turning. “Who’s Dan?”

“Dan Jackson, the principal of Acacia. He’s trying to crack down on inter-departmental hookups so he said he’ll be looking at relationship status as one of the criteria for contract renewals for next year.”

“He can’t do that, that’s illegal,” Javy speaks up and you turn to him even as you grimace.

“It’s a private school and it’s not an official rule, just a ‘friendly suggestion,’” you sigh, defeatedly.

“You said you’re worried about the rule, Roadie? Now you have a golden opportunity to circumvent it.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Zam asks but even you can tell she understands exactly what Josie’s leading to.

“Break the story that Roadie and Javy are dating,” Josie says with a shrug like she’s just talking about the weather. “The playboy of the Dogfighters gets to settle down. The hermit crab gets a boyfriend.” You glare at her even as she winks at you. “Both parties benefit and it’s easier than the alternative.”

“This is ridiculous,” Javy scoffs with a laugh of incredulity. “Right, Zam?” He turns to her but she’s lost in thought.

“It could work.” She says finally and his jaw drops.

“You’re not serious.” He demands, eyes widening. She glares at him before turning to look at you, tentatively.

“Roadie is that something you would want?” You’re still in shock that this is up for debate at all.

“What about Javy? Doesn’t he get a say?” You stammer, trying to buy yourself some time. Zam rolls her eyes before giving Javy a firm look.

“He’s lucky he’s not getting sued right now, I think that’s enough of a say, don’t you?” You swallow, hard, looking to Javy who looks gobsmacked.

“Zam you can’t be serious,” he says, finally finding his voice again. He turns to Jake. “Tell her she’s crazy.”

Jake shrugs. “I think as long as Roadie is comfortable with it and it’s something she wants, it’s a pretty good plan. Zam’s been hounding you to clean up your act for months and you keep ignoring her. And I think you’ll keep ignoring her unless we do something and this is as good a something as anything. Plus,” he adds with a playful smirk, “waiting for a girl to fall out of the sky who’d actually be willing to date you could take years.” Josie and Nat both snort at that. You swallow hard at that. “Who knows, maybe a fake girlfriend will teach you how to have a real one.” A fake girlfriend. You feel your chest squeeze at that. A bitter voice in the back of your mind wonders how you’ve managed to find yourself in this situation yet again. At least this time you’re in on the joke. You shake off the pain that squeezes your heart and realize all eyes are on you.

“What? Sorry,” you stammer as you look from expectant face to expectant face.

Zam grins at you conspiratorially, you can see the curious excitement in her eyes. “What do you think, Roadie? Are you in?”

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 759: Pressure

Pag 3

1: Even if the towel gets wet it's still

2: A towel, huh?

4: Ahh, I'm sweaty

Ohh, how lucky, I have the shower room all to myself!

5: What-

Waaaa

6: In the dark!? In the shower!? Midosuji-kun!? And there's so little water

How long has he been taking a shower.... he's really too weird....

Pag 4

1: The water's...

2: stream runs down the limbs and falls on the ground

3: The towel has no power anymore

No meaning

6: But is that really true?

Pag 5

1: What is he mumbling about

Ahhh, please just hurry up and finish your shower

Can I turn on the light... is that okay...

2: I just can't find the meaning

4: If I....

5: take that to be the case!!

7: I found it, in a place like this- the answer!!

Pag 6

6: Oi, Midosuji... kun!!

Pag 7

1: Sohoku's.... those guy's stage is starting

Don't you wanna hear their comments!? They might say something about their strategy...

3: He's not here!? Huh!?

Komari... that guy said he was going for a trial run to look for... “good meat”? And other stuff that didn't make any sense

4: Hatchobori went and followed him... but

Ahh, dammit, has everyone else also gone to the stage and that's why there's no one in the tent?

7: A child!?

Pag 8

2: Who's this kid

3: Ah? In our tent!?

Ah? And that's Midosuji's seat!?

Pag 9

1: This is why I hate kids!!

They don't listen and cry too easily!! And even before the important Inter High, this is so annoying!!

2: Oi, what are you doing, brat

Don't just come in wearing shabby, dirty tank top

Just because it's open doesn't mean you can't come in

3: Oi!!

4: Look at me!!

5: Are you in fifth or sixth grade!?

I'll take you to the main office

Pag 10

2: Huh

It's thick!?

3: Huh!?

4: Huh!?

5: Huh!?

6: Why

Pag 11

1: Funatsu-kuun, are you suddenly grabbing someone's arm

Waaaaaaa

4: It was Midosuji....

It was Midosuji!!

5: It's always been him!?

He looked like an elementary school kid!!

Pag 12

1: Why!?

Funatsu-kuun

Pag 13

1: I was here.... since earlier?

Here....

2: Waaaaaa

3: You said “shabby, dirty kid”

Who was it!?

4: Since the beginning of this year.... he's become even more precise in controlling his pressure

No, no, it was nothing

5: Adding to the way he could look bigger last year, now there are times when he lowers his pressure and looks small!!

Pag 14

4: So... this guy

5: can lower his pressure to the point that he can look the size of a kid at will...?

6: To compete in the Inter High

Pag 15

1: This guy has sharpened both his body and mind tremendously!!

2: Puku!!

3: Uwiii-

5: You really have a tremendous control on your pressure

Pag 16

1: Midosuji-kun

Waaaa Hakogaku's Manami!!

2: Why.... why are you here

Can I come in?

I don't mind

Is that okay!?.... okay then, come in!!

3: Is it okay that you're no watching Sohoku's fantastic stage?

4: That's just a show

It has nothing to do with the race

Pag 17

1: As expected, puku, from the man who only feels joy in running and who's only specialized in running, Manami

2: It's the last Inter High, after all, I came to say hi

3: With your team?

5: It's personal

6: Will we race each other at some point?

For sure

7: Because

Pag 18

1: we want the same thing

2: Ugh!! Ugh.... this guys has a tremendous pressure too!!

3: Oh....

4: Then should we do it....

5: A race

Pag 19

1: After I defeat that Sakamichi!!

Pag 20

1: Yeah

2: I'm different this year, you know?

I've already found the answer!!

[rqgnarok]

dial drunk - tommy miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show and video game)

wc: 2,703

warnings: alcoholism and mentions of alcohol abuse, drunk character, maybe PTSD? pre-outbreak. no use of specific pronouns. 

summary: tommy calls you in the middle of the night, hammered and asking for a favor.

inspired by noah kahan’s dial drunk. author’s note at the end.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Tommy knows the drill.

He’s been here enough times to recognize the officer pulling him over, asking after his wife and kids as he steps out of the truck on unsteady feet. He’s all Southern charm and pleasantries as he fails his breath test and is unable to walk in a straight line for the officer to see. 

“Come on, man,” he says, aiming for placating and pretty much landing it. He’s not his mama’s favorite for nothing, getting out of trouble Joel would’ve been grounded over when he was his age with big cow eyes and flimsy excuses. “Paperwork’s shit, right? Lemme make a call and someone will take me off your hands for the night.”

The officer tightens his mouth into a grimace, unconvinced.

“Look, if this gets nowhere then I’ll ride with you nice and quiet,” he bargains with as much honesty as one can convey when being the youngest boy in a nice Catholic Texan family. There aren’t better credentials than those when pleading your innocence. “I’ll even play it up in front of your boss to make you look good, yeah? Just one call, promise.”

Hook, line, and sinker. The officer’s shoulders drop a little and he’s offering his cell phone for Tommy to call. “One call. Then you’re done.”

“Yessir.”  

Tommy grins innocently as best as he can with double the legal limit of alcohol in his blood and a phone between his ear and shoulder. The man stands there with his arms crossed looking like he’d rather be anywhere but bringing his ass in for a DUI at two AM on a Wednesday.

“‘lo?” you call sleepily, finally picking up. Tommy doesn’t restrain his victorious grunt. “...Tommy?”

“Hey, sweets,” he slurs a little, clearing his throat. “Sorry for wakin’ you. I need a favor.”

“Tommy,” you say again, tired. If Tommy were any less drunk, he’d realize it’s not lack of sleep that has you sounding like that. He’s shitfaced and thinking about the monumental kick in the ass waiting for him at home when Joel realizes he hotwired and stole his truck to get a drink at the nearest bar. 

“I know, I know, listen,” he cuts you off before you can say anything else, sneaking a look at the officer’s crossed arms and disappointed stance. “You remember the way to the precinct, right? From last time?”

Last time, when Tommy got into a brawl outside a bar he was not supposed to be in, and accepted your worried fussing with barely concealed annoyance, gripping your wrists and taking your hands off his bruised face. You’d driven him to your place because he’d promised Joel to steer clear of trouble for at least a few months, and his breath still reeked of alcohol by the time you came to pick him up.  

You told him then you weren’t doing this again. But you always say that. And you always come when he calls.

Your moms had grown up together in Texas and were ecstatic about the fact that their two littlest ones would come into the world so close together. You and Tommy were inseparable because the universe had dictated it– and nothing could interfere between you. Not his dad dying when he and Joel were still too young, not Tommy having to repeat fifth grade and no longer sharing a classroom with you, not you going off to college and Tommy joining the army straight out of high school.

But then he came home. And he came home different.

The shit he’d seen overseas was nasty, but that’s not what drove him to drink himself stupid every night. At least that’s what he thinks. Soon his habits began seeing the light of day; vodka mixed in his morning coffee and hidden in a water bottle during lunch with the boys at the construction site. Life became a blur when he was drinking and an agonizingly slow nightmare when he wasn’t.

Joel wasn’t the first to notice but he’d been the first to say something about it. Next time you come to my home reeking of a cheap ass bar in front of my kid I’m kicking your ass out. I’m serious, Tommy. This shit has to stop. 

And Tommy had believed him. So he turned to the next person he knew that would do anything for him. You came home from college despite your dreams to outrun this town, and soon it was your number he had memorized even when his brain called it quits and left him alone in his blackouts.

“I do,” you say, and Tommy’s already thinking about sleeping it off on your sorry excuse of a couch. It’s a slow night, only a couple of drunken bums sleeping off their hangovers in a quaint police station in fucking Arlington, Texas. But Tommy would take your couch any day, even if it means fucking up his back for the rest of the week. “But I’m not coming to get you, Tommy. Call Joel.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons into the phone, low and mellow like he’d talk to pretty girls at parties in high school. The same ones you’d go to only because he begged you to come with, acting like a jealous boyfriend when someone wouldn’t leave you alone. “Please. I’ll pay you back, you know I’m good for it.”

He’d put a possessive arm around your waist, standing behind you and smiling icily at whoever was pestering you. We got a problem here?

There’s silence at the other side of the line, sheets rustling. Tommy can picture you sitting up, phone to your ear, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. 

More like Joel is, but hey. He took the big brother act to heart the second Tommy was born. He’s been bailing him out of shit as long as Tommy’s been alive, why would tonight be any different?

Joel, who’s always told him, first jokingly and then not so much, that you were too good for Tommy. Too smart, too kind, with too much integrity for someone like his little brother. 

The older Miller had taken a liking to you pretty soon after Tommy did; wiping the dirt off scraped knees and your tears from chubby child cheeks after placing a bandaid with gentle, unsure fingers. Giving you a ride when you insisted on walking home, leaving the back door open for you whenever being home got too rough for you. 

That man knew you’d be the best thing to ever happen to his brother in his entire life. Too bad the idiot didn’t realize it, pushing your limits until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

“I’m not bailing you out of jail, Tommy,” you sigh, annoyance creeping over the hesitation in your tone. You were never good at saying no to him, even when you were both in diapers and Tommy wanted your dinosaur plushie so bad he threw a tantrum until his mom took him in her arms. “When I said last time was the last time, I meant it. I’m sick of this shit.”

“Come on,” he scoffs, saying your name in a way he knows you hate, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “I’ll give you a kiss and everything. You still like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” you snap on the other side of the line. He knows you well enough to know what buttons to push. Reminding you of your first kiss is a trick he’s never, never pulled on you before, though. “Don’t fucking say that, don’t use that against me.”

You’d been seventeen and without a date to the prom. The guy you were thinking about asking had laughed in your face when you offhandedly mentioned going together and Tommy had refused to let you sulk alone. He’d climbed into your room through your window and wrapped his arm around you the second your lip wobbled, tears wetting your cheeks.

Tell me who I have to kill, he’d said before you ever told him what was wrong. He’s always been like that, hot-headed and protective, especially when it comes to you. Willing to fight anyone who’s ever slightly wronged you but not realizing when he’s done it himself.

You laughed into his shirt, snotty and miserable as he tightened his grip around you. Come on, sweets, fuck that guy. Like he’s even good enough for you.

You confessed with a burning embarrassment how you’d seen yourself kissing him– more out of the need to get your first kiss over with than actual want– and Tommy’s face had gone through a bunch of complicated emotions before settling on something sweet, shy, resolute. He’d thumbed at your chin thoughtfully, fingers just barely brushing over your bottom lip. 

Tommy had his first kiss when he was thirteen with Amy Hill behind the church his mother dragged them to every Sunday morning, but you’d never seen him that nervous. He failed to look into your eyes as he stuttered out his suggestion. If you wanna get it out of the way then maybe– I don’t know. Why not do it with someone who actually cares about you?

You’d looked at him in scrutiny as if you’d never taken a good look at him before. He self-consciously thought about his fair skin and his freckles, if his hair was still a mess from football practice, and if his breath smelled somewhat okay after having that sandwich for lunch. 

You offerin’, Miller?

Yeah, he’d said instead of something stupid like haven’t you heard? I’m a catch. He murmured bashfully, finally meeting your eyes. Yeah, sweets, I guess I am.

He’d licked his lips and drew a path with his fingers from your temple to behind your ear before cupping the side of your jaw, breath hot. Just– punch me in the face or something if you don’t want to.

You hadn’t. He’d closed the gap between you and you kissed him back slowly, hesitantly, diving back in again after he drew away. He was too short of breath for a chaste kiss that had lasted a couple of seconds, and the second time around his tongue flickered past his lips. Your hands on his shirt tightened in response, a helpless sound leaving your mouth that neither of you had been expecting. 

He hadn’t known about your crush then. Maybe that’s when it first started, some Tuesday night with a kiss in your childhood bedroom, but Tommy doesn’t remember ever becoming aware of it. He just knew, suddenly, and enough things had happened in the in-between from then to now for him to consider using it against you.

His drunken brain thinks differently, though.

“Don’t be like that, sweets,” the nickname had never bothered you before, born out of Tommy watching too many old movies one night the babysitter failed to show up and Joel fell asleep on the couch. You’d never questioned him when he started calling you that, probably liking it a little too much for it to be a friendly thing between you. “You can act all high and mighty next time, alright? Just come pick me up before Joel realizes he ain’t got a ride for work tomorrow mornin’.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse vehemently. You haven’t been to church in the years you’ve been back from college, much to your mama’s dismay. “You know what? Whatever. That’s Joel’s problem now, not mine. Call him.”

“I’m asking you for a favor,” he says through gritted teeth, suddenly irritated. His characteristic charm is gone just like that. “Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

“I’m done watching you wreck your life, Tommy,” you say with finality. He scoffs pettily. “I’m not picking up again, tonight or ever. Call Joel.” 

A click. Then nothing.

He says your name and the dial tone laughs back at him. And Tommy–

Tommy can’t actually believe it. He takes the phone off his ear and stares at it, dumbfounded, like looking at it long enough will get you back on the line. 

He hears the officer blow air out his mouth and the evening suddenly comes into sharpening clearness; the cold November air biting at his face, the taste of whiskey in his mouth. His hands are sweating from where he’s gripping his phone, the tag of his jacket is rubbing uncomfortably against the back of his neck. 

You’ve never hung up on him before.

“That it?” the officer asks with the lack of patience that’s characteristic of the night shift. 

“I– what? No, no,” he shakes his head, already dialing again. “Just– just give me a second.”

“Night ain’t young, man,” he grumbles, already reaching for his cuffs. Tommy takes a step back, suddenly out of his depth. “One call. Time’s up.”

“I’ll– I’ll go okay? I’ll go, just let me– let me call again,” the trembling of his fingers has nothing to do with his current state– Tommy feels like every single drop of alcohol has vaporized from his blood and now he’s left cold and in trouble and alone.

Fuck. Fuck, you’d never hung up on him before.

He calls again, once, twice, before the officer finally loses his patience. “Alright, kid. Whoever you’re callin’ they don’t wanna answer. You can have your one phone call at the precinct. Get someone else, though, huh?”

Tommy doesn’t want to. Tommy shouldn’t have to, a sudden rush of self-righteous anger washing over him with enough force to gridlock his entire body with tension. His jaw tightens and teeth grind together, his shoulders straighten into a taunt, painful line, holding onto the phone so tightly it shakes, the shapes of it making indentations on his skin.

How dare you? How fucking dare you? Friends since fucking birth, does that mean nothing to you? Now you’re throwing him away like a fucking dirty rag? 

Call Joel, you had said, and Joel is enough of an asshole to keep Tommy in the can overnight to teach him a lesson, but you? You two have always looked out for each other, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go–

“I don’t have all night, buddy,” the officer gets his hands on him to take back his phone and beckon him to the car. Tommy flails as an automatic response, fighting back against the unwanted touch. But whether he feels like it or not he’s still drunk and in the blink of an eye he’s got his face against the hood of a police car, red and blue lights hurting his eyes, and a tight hand around the back of his neck keeping him somewhat still. 

The officer mumbles something about Tommy causing more trouble than he’s worth and ain’t that a popular opinion tonight? “You’re gonna cause yourself any more trouble, son?”

Tommy snorts. Son, like the guy’s not just a couple of years older than him. He’s pretty sure they crossed paths once or a hundred times back in high school. 

The ride to the precinct is as uncomfortable as it gets. The heat in the car isn’t working so Tommy’s freezing his ass off in the back of the car, handcuffs digging into his wrists. His nose is bleeding all over his clothes, and hurting like a bitch where the officer had to punch him when Tommy’s fight response wouldn’t quit. 

And you, in the back of his mind. He pictures you asleep after his little interruption and his anger is enough of a fire inside of him to drown out the disbelief, the blatant hurt that threatens to kill him more than his broken nose does. 

He’ll pop the thing back into place later in the cell but this? You? As the hours pass by and clarity regains its home in his awareness, he doesn’t see a way around this. A scenario in which he calls again and you listen, where you talk to him and he doesn’t feel like you kicked him to the curb over fucking nothing. A few drinks. A favor. Best friends, his ass.

He’ll keep calling, though. Even if he has to spend the night in jail because you don’t pick up. He’ll dial drunk until he dies, just for you. 

______

tommy u silly little goose

since noah’s album came out last week i’ve had this song on repeat and i desperately wanted to write a fic about it. idk why my mind instantly went to tommy. i’m thinking of a post-outbreak sequel but i won’t confirm anything until it’s actually in the works. 

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! the lack of tommy fics is astounding to me, especially since gabriel luna is one of the most beautiful and talented men i’ve ever seen. 

reminder that commissions are open and support is always appreciated!

<3