#I just want things to be running smoothly again.

[anadiasmount]

anything dad!jude pls we beg 🥲💕

safe and sound - jb blurb.

tiny insta au at the end 😉

“cranky, just like your mama,” jude baby talked as he shook the bottle, while his babygirl eva fussed and crinkled her nose upset. “here you go, let’s go sit on the bed with mommy.” jude made sure all the lights were off downstairs and doors were locked before gently going upstairs to your room.

“jude?” you called out, he yelled back a yeah seeing you finishing up your skincare routine by your vanity, pulling the covers down so he could sit with eva in his arms. “she’s so sleepy, i felt so bad waking her up,” jude whispered as you walked in now changed in your pjs and hair in a messy updo.

“i know but if we hadn’t she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight,” you replied joining him sitting up on the bed. “but seeing her so excited and intrigued today, gosh i can’t believe she’s so big now. like you mean to tell me she was this small” jude pinched his fingers and squinted his eyes, “and now she’s almost one? where’d all the time go,” jude frowned, visibly upset that his babygirl is growing up so fast.

eva’s eyes were heavy, fluttering often as she drank her bottle and cuddled into her daddies embrace, the warmth and comfort helping her soothe so she could fall asleep quicker. jude traced her brows and the tiny birthmark on her cheek, kissing her forehead and giving her the most undeniably attention. “it feel like just yesterday where we found out we were expecting. the late night runs to the grocery store, the baby shower, i wish to do it all again,” jude said, kissing your temple as you leaned and laid on his chest.

“and we will, but we want to enjoy these special moments with her. for so long and give her the most happiest childhood. if we rush into having another kid i feel like we won’t get to experience and enjoy it. we have all the time in the world you know?” you said your hand coming up to trace eva’s cheek, where she was no fully asleep, lips pursed and brows pulled in. “she looks exactly like you when she’s asleep,” jude laughed.

“does she really?” you say confused, now noticing the probability of it.

“exactly like her momma,” jude leaned down and kissed you sweetly. “when you say do it all again… does that mean…” jude said unsure, feeling those similar jitters he once felt when you had surprised him with the unexpected news of your pregnancy. happy, scared, but overall thankful. thankful for the life he’s getting to build day by day along with you.

“i mean as in a few years maybe two or three we can try again for our second baby,” you whispered butting your lip as jude stared at you with adoration. “you make me the happiest man, you have no idea baby,” jude smirked, “don’t be getting any ideas now! just because i say that won’t mean we won’t have precautions,” jude pouted but shook his head understanding the boundaries you were setting.

while most of your pregnancy went smoothly, there was times where you felt just so stuck. the back pain, the headaches with no use of medication, the nausea and loss of appetite, being unable to sometimes keep your food in and throwing up. you felt useless but jude was there everytime to remind you to take it easy and that there was no rush, that both you and the baby mattered, as he held you close to him.

jude gently still rocked eva in his arm, making sure she was fully asleep before he went to leave her in her crib. the last thing he wanted was to stay up with a crying baby who refused to go to sleep. he had learned that back then when you had gone to a girls trip. the restless nights and getting a taste of what you dealt with when he wasn’t here.

“sometimes i can’t believe it’s real. that we made this tiny beautiful human,” jude sighed watching as eva slept peacefully. “im so incredibly happy, i just love you both so much,” and there he was again, despite you being with mixed hormones jude was always the sappy and emotional one during your pregnancy and after. “jude were not going anywhere,” you laughed, hugging him and pressing kisses on his cheeks as he cried.

“i know, i know, you know how i am,” you wiped his tears still giggling from the random outburst. “as long as you’re here next to me with eva, it’s all i need to be okay. to feel safe,” jude said kissing you feverishly. “i love you both so much, never forget that. i mean it,” he said seriously at the end. “if you ever decide to leave me just know-”

“jude im not going to leave you, quit it with that. do i have to remind you of this,” you flashed your engagement ring, “or this?” then grabbed the the pendent with his initials and eva’s on your necklace. “or this?” you said a bit louder, pointing to the tattoo dedicated to him. “that’s the best gift you could ever give me,” he smirked proudly, kissing the inside of your wrist where the ink was.

“i could always get it removed…”

“don’t!”

———————

judebellingham + ynusername

liked by: ynusername, vinijr, gioreyna, jobebellingham, andreamartinez, adidas, yourfriend, user129, and 996,390 others!

judebellingham: day out with mis dos amores 🤍

comments:

ynusername: ily hubby 😘

ynusername: MYY BABIESSS

ynusername: eva’s chunky legs im in love!! 😣😣

ynusername: ok stalker, catching me off guard 😒

jobebellingham: no invite? okay i see how it is 😒

vinijr: 🤍

gioreyna: sooo adorable! little eva is so big now! ❤️

comments are limited!

———————

ynusername added to their stories!

[fall-inq]

Blackberry Jam 

I got tired of seeing no platonic Nikto or Krueger so I thought I’d try writing some. Feedback is welcome!

Pairing: Krueger x Nikto x Platonic Reader

Warnings: Nikto and Krueger being Nikto and Krueger, Violence, Car wrecks?, Reader nearly dies, No comfort, Possible innacurate geography

Read my rules

“Remind me to never trust you two with driving.” You grumble, holding back the urge to shove Nikto. With Chimera and KorTac’s recent team-up, you find yourself often paired up with the most unstable men from both sides. Nikto you were more familiar with. 

Krueger…not so much. You could tell that they knew each other well- way better than you would ever know. Which was fair- seeing as you were a “new addition to the team” in one of the most terrifying PMC’s in the world. Unsurprisingly, no one was eager to meet you or be put on a mission with you, Nikto especially. “This one is a runt,” he had said. “We should just kill it now.” Heartwarming, how kindly KorTac welcomed their newest operators. How wise they were to immediately pair you with him on missions. Usually, you were chosen like the last one picked in dodgeball and the one who took most of the hits. Now you were just the one who took the hits.

Both of you hated each other at first. His most common complaints were that you “talked to much.” That turned into “They don’t listen to me” because you’d be silent on missions with him. Then it was “they put us into danger,” and “get themself landed in the infirmary too often.” Over time, the complaints died down and Nikto grew tolerant of you, and you figured out when he wanted you to be quiet and when to talk. Instead of you two avoiding each other when not on active duty, he partly does it now, sometimes sitting down at the table to watch your Black Jack games with Horangi. Both of you ended up teaching him the game despite his uninterest.

It’s silly, growing jealous over someone who has known him longer. Why are you even jealous? Your relationship with Nikto is more so “forced into a get-along T-Shirt” than willing acquaintances. He and Krueger have known each other for years. There’s also the significant difference in mental stability. …Maybe that’s why he avoids you- he doesn’t want to hurt you. Or maybe it’s the usual: you’re annoying to him.

What’s worse is that Krueger noticed, and the smug bastard enjoys it. And yes, he does tease you about it. The taunts are the only thing he says to you.

Bitter feelings aside, the mission was running as smoothly as a mission with the two idiots could go. The task was simple: Investigate some small buildings on the coast of the recently captured Southern area of Verdansk, search them for intel, weapons free on any hostiles. At least, you thought it was simple from the back of the stolen ZIL-4334 the three of you entered. Mistake #1: You failed to notice Nikto entering the driver’s seat. Mistake #2: You failed to see Krueger do a sign of the cross despite not being religious. Krueger’s mistake was not squeezing you between him and Nikto. Or maybe that was purposeful.

Nikto floored it the second he decided he was ready to go. Poor, unwise little you slammed against the back of the truck’s cabin as the vehicle lurched forward. You hadn’t even realized you hit your head. Or that you were screaming as Nikto drove through a fence and sharply turned onto the road. Was that laughter? Was Nikto laughing? It was an odd, muffled sound. Rough, deep, and barking, like you had imagined. Despite your terror, you mentally celebrated. Horangi owes you his rations. Andre Nikto was capable of laughing.

That was also the moment the truck swerved again and tipped over. Due to the severe lack of tarp, you were launched out of the cargo bed easily, landing roughly on the asphalt and tumbling in the opposite direction. That would’ve been fine-ish, had you not kept rolling and had the terrain not started sloping down. The smell of burning rubber, road, salt and dirt filled your nose as your hands frantically tried to find purchase on the ground. A flock of birds startle and fly away at the sound.

“Nikto!”

You're falling backwards. The wind rushes past your head.

“NIKTO!”

You can hear the waves. You try to scream again-

A hand roughly grabs onto your arm and yanks you forward, giving you whiplash as you fall onto the road face-first yet again. You lie there while one of your teammates walks over to your front and squats down, his hand grabbing you by your cheeks and pulling your head up. “Krueger,” the Austrian answers. You know the fucker is smiling behind his dumb hood. “Come on. Up, up.” He drawls, using his other hand to pat your cheek. Smacking his hand away, you rise and dust yourself off, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your head. Which brings you back to the present- walking down the highway next to the Verdansk coast.

“You’ve never seen me drive,” Krueger points out after your complaint, his monotone voice going light as he calls back. “And I never want to, thank you.” You retort, rubbing your scraped-up cheek. The taller of the group falls back from Nikto’s side to join yours as you walk. “…You are alright?” He huffed a laugh as you side-eyed him. “What? I care.” Krueger mocks, causing Nikto to snort. “He lies.” You know he does. Both of them do. “You’re young,” the Austrian remarks- like he’s secretly saying that you’re inferior and don’t belong. Like you’re a beetle he wants to crush under his boot simply for fun. Your frown deepens. “So?” He shrugs. “Shouldn’t you be making friendship bracelets with the 141? They’d be happier to have canon fodder like you.” You know it’s on purpose. You know Krueger- an asshole who tries to get a rise out of anyone. You should be the bigger person and you fail. “You motherfucker-” You want to punch him. You want to throw him off the side of the cliff. Want to break something of his even though you know he’ll rock your shit and gloat about it. “Stop.” Nikto barks, shooting the two of you a harsh glare that doesn’t affect the taller one of the group. The mood dies like a paper tossed into flame. It shrivels and blackens and falls apart into ash. The Austrian rejoins the Russian, leaving you in your usual spot.

It’s silent again. The birds are long gone. A tiny part of you wants to flee, too. The tiny part that wants to run away to a world where everything is okay and your childhood bedroom was never changed. “I’m hungry,” Krueger whines from up ahead. “Not our issue,” Nikto replies curtly. “I’ll make it your issue.” Krueger shoots back. “You do that I’ll remove your stomach with my hands.”

“I’d like that,” Krueger hums. You wrinkle your nose. “Ew. Gross.” What was more gross was the blood leaving your mouth when you spat on the side of the road. “You shut up, this is an adult conversation.” Krueger replies curtly. “Can the “adult conversations” wait for some cheap motel room-” “Both of you shut up!” Nikto suddenly snaps. You comply, though Krueger simply huffs a laugh. The last thing you want is an over-paranoid Nikto. Krueger seems to want exactly that.

The wind rustles past you again. The waves get harsher for a moment before settling down a little. A gray expanse stretches over the three of you and you suddenly feel like you’re in some sort of apocalypse. Is it going to rain? Krueger pauses, his attention focused on some bushes on the roadside.

“[C/N], come.” Krueger demands, walking over to the bushes. “Why?” He merely gestures with his hand. You can feel Nikto’s irritation rising like a steaming tea kettle’s squeal as you rush over to him. “We don’t have time for this,” the older snaps. “I’m getting a snack!” Krueger shushes, crouching next to the bushes. He grabs one of his small storage bags and opens it. “Look,” he urges, pulling you down. Blackberry bushes. It’s odd how such things can grow in the middle of a war zone. “Help me.” He says, grabbing one of the black-purple berries and plucking it. You follow the action, grabbing one, two, three.

“Sebastian,” Nikto demands hotly. For a moment you forgot he existed. You wonder how many times he’s done the same. Krueger stands, ignoring the dirt on his knees as he walks back over to the Russian and offers him a blackberry. The small berry is smacked out of his hand. You wonder if Krueger pouted as he zipped up the bag and clipped it onto his belt. “Don’t ask me for any when you’re hungry later.” He teases. Nikto forces a deep breath. “We don’t get hungry.”

Before any of you can move on, Hell breaks loose. Someone tackles Krueger- an enemy- and there’s a burst of deep dark liquid when the two hit the ground and a flash of metal. The hostile raises the blade again, aiming for Krueger’s face while Krueger pushes at the man’s chest- and then there’s Nikto, snatching the man’s arm and pulling it back farther than it should go. There’s a gross crunch and pop sound that’s partly drowned out by the hostile’s pained shout.

You fumble with your gun as Nikto tears the man to shreds. Bones continue pop out of place and break at his assault all while Krueger simply lays there as if he were cloud watching. Finally getting a goddamn grip, you raise the weapon at the man’s head while Nikto chokes him in a headlock. His arm presses further and further into the man’s neck, making the enemy sputter and gasp for air that won’t come through.. You imagine a blade, sawing at the man’s skin in an enraged effort to cut it off. You could imagine the red spilling. Imagine the garbled, bubbly cries as the man coughs up his own blood. You hear the crunch of a throat and finally fire a bullet into the fool’s head.  Nikto drops him with a jolt before storming over to you. The body falls like a plushie falls off a child’s bed. Meaningless and anti-climactic.

Nikto cuffing the back of your head knocks you out of your thoughts. “What have we told you about staying on task?!” He shouts, cuffing you again before shoving you to the ground. You don’t bother trying to argue. Stupid Krueger- it’s his fault for dragging you into his dumb distraction. You know that it’s your fault for listening to him and you don’t want to admit it. 

Sebastian stands, feeling his side curiously. The Russian abandons you and sets his sights on the Austrian. “Nikto, it’s fine.” He, too, is shoved to the ground. Krueger tuts. “Andre,” he calls, tone dropping. There’s no answer as Nikto crawls on top of him, pulling out his blade and moving to cut away the fabric hiding Krueger’s wound.

Only there’s no wound. Just dark purple…juice? Krueger pushes the Russian away and detaches the pouch the blackberries were in from his belt. It’s wet- covered in dark stains of what both you and Nikto thought was blood. Krueger opens the bag. “…It’s jam,” He explains with an irritating smirk, scooping some out on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He tastes it and wrinkles his nose. “Hm, could be better.” Nikto’s fist connects with his face. Unsure whether to help the Austrian or to go looking for the intel, you watch the scuffle for a few moments before deciding it was best to go with the latter.

“Can one of you explain to me why Nikto and Krueger are covered in crushed blackberries and bruises?” Nikolai sighs, trying to keep his composure. Both of the masked men look at you accusingly. “[C/N],” Nikolai sighs. “What the fuck did I do?!

[mischiefbuckley]

This is random but I just for some reason wanted to ask somebody something soooo do you have a favorite scene of chenford and/or buddie?

Hi there!!!

My favorite buddie scene would have to be the kitchen scene with Buck, Eddie and Christopher in season 6. I love my Buckley Diaz family so much and that scene is so beautiful to see how integral they are to each others life’s as well as how important of a place Christopher holds in their life as well. It also just shows the love and appreciation that Buck has because he took the time to test out a lasagna recipe from Bobby to make for his Diaz boys and also how relaxed and at home they feel in Buck’s apartment like Christopher is doing his homework and Eddie is just relaxing drinking a beer and waiting for dinner to be ready like it’s so domestic and beautiful. Another favorite scene of mine would be poker date night that whole scene itself was so iconic and both Buck and Eddie looked so beautiful and also Eddie planning the whole thing out like OMG I love it so much. I would say also just 5x14 as an episode for Buddie is important because it really shows how much they are so important to each other and Buck was there when both Eddie and Christopher needed him and he was there helping out and making sure everything was running smoothly with Christopher so that Eddie could go to therapy and try to gain some perspective of how to deal with the trauma and the news and all the life changing events that had been happening at that point in his life and Buck being there to support him along the way.

I only did recently just finish watching The Rookie for the first time but I’m obsessed with Chenford. I would say one of the first moments for me that felt like wow this is going to be something beautiful is the Day of Death episode where Tim feels so guilty over encouraging Lucy to go out and have fun and he takes any means possible to try and find any information so they can find her in time. And then when he ends up finding her and pulls her out and hugs her that part got to me because you can tell he genuinely cared for her so much in that moment. Another would be when they go undercover because again I loved their undercover personas it was a funny watch to see a doppelgänger storyline actually be funny for a change compared to 911. Also when Lucy gets a hold of Tim’s radio and sends him on a scavenger hunt around LA to his favorite spots and when Aaron tells Tim it must be someone he knows immediately his first thought is Lucy. The moment that also broke me was Tim sending Kojo to give Lucy her birthday card like damn 😭

Thank you so much for sending :) I adore them all so much and they have all gone through so much together but at the end of the day they always have each other and it’s so beautiful to see on screen 🥹

[lunar-insanity]

I swear I fix one thing, another thing breaks.

I recently replaced my motherboard in my PC because it got borked at some point in the past few years and thus started running too hot in two places, burned out one of the ram ports, and thus would not render any video more than a minute long, if that.

So it's working again, I managed to render an hour long video I've had for months.

BUT NOW

The UPS (Uninterrupted Power Supply) finally gave out after one final sudden power interruption, and ever since I replaced the motherboard, my headphones Keep. Cutting. OUT.

Several times the sound just cuts out in them, the mic stops working, and I have to replug them back in to get them to work.

Tech hates me Istg

[todayisafridaynight]

What do you think drove Daigo to go legit and open his security business?

well, one big reason was prob cause he realized that trying to live as yakuza under the current laws was more akin to being a 'slave' to the government than just. doing what they do

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

[dravidious]

Sometimes I wonder how people back in the 2000s and stuff could look at video game graphics and be like "oh wow this looks so good! how could a game ever look better than this?" when the graphics are pretty low-quality. So anyway my computer is trash and can barely handle modern games, so for anything 3D I always turn the graphics settings way down. But one time, a game somehow glitched my graphics settings back up mid-session and suddenly I was looking at such high-quality visuals that weren't even destroying my framerate and I was just like "is THIS what games are supposed to look like?!?" and it was so eye-opening like. I never really considered this level of quality to be possible until suddenly I'm staring at it. You really don't know what's possible until it's right in front of you.

[hypnagogics]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33

☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.

◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...

You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.

"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.

You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.

"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.

Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."

Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.

So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.

She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.

She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.

As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.

"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.

You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought. 

Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.

“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.

You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”

You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”

“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”

You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.

Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.

You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.

“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.

You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.

“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.

She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.

Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.

“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.

“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.

Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.

She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”

What was she going to do now?

if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading. asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡

tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @elliesapple

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,723 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad, from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. You want answers. 

“I want to know why you decided to leave, why you went on that mission and left me when you knew things were not right.” 

John shifts on his feet behind you, the wood floor creaking just slightly. He’s silent for a long moment, so long you almost think he’s walked away. 

“I was too trusting. I got caught up in the mindset of a soldier and chose to trust my superiors when I knew I shouldn’t have. I wanted to send you somewhere else, to stay with Kate, but things didn’t work fast enough to make that possible. I shouldn’t have just left you there, even with Johnny and Simon. It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. At least he knows he made a mistake. At least he thought up other plans, but that doesn’t excuse the fact he did nothing and just left you there so easily. 

Another question burns at the forefront of your mind. You think back to that conversation with Dr. Keller just a few days ago. You want to trust her, you know you can trust her. She’s given you no reason not to. She wouldn’t lie, even if the rest of your pack did. 

“You really didn’t leave me with Graves?” The words slip out before you can stop them, spilling forth from your lips, revealing part of those inner thoughts that have plagued you for the last few hours. 

“I would never have left you with him.” John says, the floorboards creaking as he takes a couple steps forward. “As soon as we found out we turned around and went to Kate’s safehouse. She was already looking for you. We did everything in our power to find you as quickly as we possibly could.” 

The tears start sliding down your cheeks as you sit there, taking in his words. They’re spoken with such conviction and match what Dr. Keller had told you. Some deep, dark part of your brain wants to think it’s all a lie that they’ve conjured to try and make you feel better about everything, to try and jumpstart the healing process. Yet, at the same time you want to believe they are telling the truth. 

Your other option is to trust Phil and what he said to you. For all you know, everything he said was a lie. Some sick justification to torture you as some kind of revenge towards your pack. Maybe it was all about revenge. 

Who can you trust more? Phil, or your alpha. 

Maybe if you had just held on a little bit longer. Maybe if you hadn’t believed Phil’s lie, you could have saved yourself the terror of letting your omega take over. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to take that risk and corrupt yourself with blood-stained hands. From what you can remember and have managed to weasel out of Dr. Keller, they were right behind you. A few more minutes and maybe none of it would have had to happen. 

Maybe you did do the right thing in the end. Phil might have ordered his men to kill you as soon as they arrived. Maybe they would have done it as soon as Simon and Johnny entered the room. Saving yourself might have been your only option. 

Those men would have killed you or worse. You did what you had to do. 

You’re shaking. The tears are cascading down your cheeks, warmed by the heat of the fire. You’re crying, your breaths nearly hyperventilating as you sob quietly. 

“Talk to me.” John says as he kneels down beside you. 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“She scares me, my omega.” Your inhale stutters. “She’s angry. She won’t settle. I’m scared I’m going to lose control and she’ll come out again.” 

“You’re not going to lose control.” John says. Despite the heat of the fire you’re not much warmer, a cold chill shooting through your veins. “If it were to happen, we’re right here. We’ll get you through it.” 

You stare into the flickering flames, your breaths slowly coming back down to normal. John sits there, as still as a tree. You don’t want him so close to you, yet you can’t deny how comforting his presence is. For the first time in a while you don’t feel quite so out of control.

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. You’re not quite sure how that makes you feel. 

You don’t remember falling asleep after your little talk last night. You’re not sure how that moment of vulnerability makes you feel either. There was a time when you wouldn’t have thought twice about going to your alpha with such concerns and tumultuous feelings. There was a time when you would have sought him out for the comfort and stability you need right now. 

Things are different, though. Things have changed. 

You run a hand over your face, thinking back to the groggy conversation with Simon this morning. You’re not quite sure it even happened, or if you dreamed it. There’s two blankets on you, however, and you distinctly remember feeling the second one being draped over you. 

It’s a touching gesture from the specter in your life. Once again he’s been reduced to a shadow, a figure lingering only because he has to. The distance that had once been so close to closing has widened into an impossibly wide canyon. You’re not sure it’ll ever fully close again. Too much has transpired in such a short amount of time between the two of you. He’ll never forgive himself, and you’ll never be brave enough to force it again. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face again. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of trauma and their decisions ache in your chest, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you��re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You’re half tempted to go back to sleep, but you’re too awake now, and the light streaming in the doorway is making it hard. It was done on purpose, left that way to prevent you from falling asleep again. 

You let out a huff as you maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed. You try to blink the drowsiness away, no matter how much your brain is trying to chase the last lingering threads of sleep quickly receding. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers, repeating what he told you in the room. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, the lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for late fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny and Kyle down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

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[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[princesssmars]

can you do submissive reader x vi

oh my god vi who just loves how submissive you are for her…nsfw.

it was the little things that tipped her off about the other side of you she’d yet to on see.

your relationship was new, only a few weeks since she’d asked you to officially become her girlfriend. the two of you still hadn’t had sex, only a few intense make outs that were promptly stopped when she notice your tense posture. she made sure you knew that she’d never push you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

but she had to admit that while being respectful she noticed things that made her eager to nudge you a bit. you were always a strong willed person who gave her a run for her money when it came to being stubborn, but behind closed doors she notice just how obedient you could be.

a lazy murmur of asking for a drink the next time you grabbed one was met with her hand filled with a glass of water before she could blink. a casual reminder not to forget your jacket in the morning and wrapping the fabric around your shoulders leads to a far off look in your eyes that she just can’t ignore.

your first time together she’s oh so sweet and gentle, asking repeatedly if you’re sure you want to go through with it while she’s leaving trails of kisses up and down your body. but she can see how your anxiety deflates, how pliant your body becomes as she moves and guides different parts of you to her will.

and then with a desperate voice you beg her, give her the permission to do whatever she wants with you, that you’re literally aching for it. and how could she say no to that?

she’s on cloud nine and she’s dragging you up with her as she manipulates your body using her hands and words. a simple command to take off your clothes and lay down for her has you laid out on the bed willing and waiting for her.

you follow her instructions so smoothly it almost seems like you were made to do it, made specially to be obedient to her. a weird thrill goes down her spine at the thought and the same happens to you when she voices it, giving you endless praise about how well you follow her instructions.

“cmon, do one more for me, okay?”

her eyes nearly roll back into her skull at the sound of your whine mixed with the sound of her fingers thrusting into your cunt, the squelching and sloshing after multiple orgasms she’s ripped out of you sending her brain into a frenzy.

“v-vi, please, violet, wan’ it, need you-“

she pushes her lips into yours to capture more of your moans while she groans into your mouth and speeds up her fingers, putting her all into giving you yet another orgasm. she feels your legs twitching against hers, your hands grasping and shaking against her back. right when she feels you about to trip over she pulls back and looks into your eyes to burn the look of you into her brain.

“cum for me, cum for me right now pretty girl,”

she barely finishes her sentence when your clamping down on her and moaning like she’s tearing your soul from your body. she has to muffle her own sounds against your neck when she realizes you’re squirting against her hand and soaking the bed underneath.

once you both catch your breaths she finally loves her body from slouching into yours to flopping onto the bed next to you. you gently kick her when she sticks the fingers that were inside you into her mouth with a comical groan, laughing as you fake being upset at her crudeness.

“gods, you’re such a pervert.”

“says the one whose shown me how obedient she is. you think if i ask to go again you’ll let me?”

“…for my own sanity i’m not going to answer that.”

vi chuckles. she can’t wait to see just how pliant for her she can make you.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, minor wounds, shackles, mental deterioration

♡ GN reader

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at you sheepishly from where he kneels before you, your feet in his lap as he carefully unclasps the second metal cuff from your ankle—leaving roughed skin in its wake, cut raw and swollen as badly as the other. “But, you know, I would have taken them off sooner if you’d been good.”

You don't answer him—not feeling like nodding and agreeing, though not exactly feeling up to doing the opposite anymore either. Tired of it, you remain quiet, and you look away instead—flinching and hissing as he carefully handles the wounds with disinfectant, balm, and bandages.

When he’s done, he rests his cheek on your knee—stroking his hands up and down your claves tenderly. “I really am sorry,” he repeats—voice soft and silken, nuzzling into you with big puppy eyes looking up at you. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

There’s a disturbance in your head—an indecision—toiling and swirling like a storm, making you sweat, almost shiver. Should you behave for once? Do what he wants and avoid another punishment—or do you still feel like fighting? Is your dignity worth it? Do you still wish to take the risk and run now that you’re unfettered and free to try again? Or would you like to finally give it up?

This is a test. You know it. No doubt.

He’ll surely catch you if you try. You know that, too. It’s been proven, and you’re not foolish enough to keep holding onto any such false thing as hope.

So then, why try?

Well, it’s a stupid question, and yet you find yourself contemplating it—whether you should try anyway, even when failure is guaranteed. You think, now that you're really thinking about it, the only thing keeping you going is sheer and hollow principle.

Yes, principle—one based on the understanding that if you try, even if you fail, you can at least say you tried—one where the simple thought of giving is detestable. Back then, even weighing the options was unthinkable. Do or die—no in-between, nothing more or less.

But that fire within feels faint now—a low flame just barely weathering the storm, all alone in the cold, in the dark, just waiting for a final gust to blow it out once and for all.

It's an ugly thought, but you think what you really want isn't to find the strength to keep fighting but for someone to say it's okay to stop. You just want a sanction—a blessing—someone to blow the candle out for you.

And acknowledging that, you might as well blow it out yourself.

If the point holds no value, then fighting for it must be even more empty—right?

You sigh.

“It’s not that bad." Lifting a hand, you run it smoothly through his tousled locks with a smile. “Actually, it already feels better.”

The worst or best part about it is how strangely freeing it is—now that you’ve let go. The trouble of remaining vigilant and hostile is an exhausting feat, and now that you’ve put it to rest, you’re left feeling unfettered—like you can finally breathe again.

He kisses your knee, then rests his chin atop it—giving you a similar smile. “I’m glad.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE- L. HOWLETT

Pairing: Possesive! Boyfriend! Logan x Fem! Reader (grumpy x sunshine)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Logan is always possesive of you, making sure the whole world knows you're his. He especially makes it known when any man tries to flirt with whats his.

Warnings: SMUT, possesivness, size kink, pet names, daddy kink, mocking? kink, dom Logan, mirror sex, swearing, implied violence/ death

"heartbreak is one thing, my egos another- i beg you don't embarass me motherfucker.."- please x3, sabrina carpenter

“Please Logan. Please, please, please just behave tonight.” you begged, pouting your lip as you gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes. It wasn’t often you had to beg Logan for anything.

He always gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked.

New purse? Chanell bag was waiting for you on the table when you arrived home. New shoes? He helped you pick them out, making you walk over to him seductively before perching you on his lap.

Anything you wanted, you got. Except for Logan behaving himself.

The older man was not known for being… caring.

To anyone but you, of course.

Where the sunshine lingered over your head like a halo, his stormcloud trailed behind at an arm's distance.

He was jealous… no, possessive. If a man stared at you for a second too long, he was no longer a man, but a boy sprawled on the ground with blood gushing out of his nose, ears and eyes. A violent, cold shouldered man with a harsh military past, but to you he would give the world on a silver platter if he could.

Which is exactly why he was dressing up for an event he very much did not want to go to- for your sake.

You stood on your tiptoes to adjust his tie, smoothing out his crisp, white undershirt that highlighted his strong arms. You wanted to kiss them.

“That's all I’m askin baby.” you pouted again, placing a gentle kiss to his neck as he bent down to your level.

“Now would I ever embarrass my girl?” he asked teasingly, brushing a warm, calloused thumb across your cheek, careful not to mess up the makeup you had so delicatly applied sitting on the bathroom vanity for hours.

“Hmm. Well sometimes someone gets a lil possessive..” you trailed on, his eyebrow cocking in amusement.

“AmI not allowed to protect my princess? There's so many terrible men out there you know baby.. That just wanna take my girl away from me.” he mocked your pout, guiding you around to face the standing mirror adorned with little lights around it, to “highlight your beauty” he had told you.

They glowed softly, pulsing against your skin as he leaned down, placing a kiss on your neck- the same place you had to him- only his tugged at your skin, just a little longer.

“And we don't want that now do we?”

Your panties damped at his condescending tone. God, why did his posessiveness turn you on so fucking much? You were adding fuel to the fire.

“No, but it's just a gala Lo. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“I’m always protecting my girl.” he snarled, hands gripping your hips, giving them a squeeze over your velvet red dress, draping across your body like a Greek goddess. It was one of Logans favourites. Of course, he said that about everything you did, and did not wear.

You thought it was fitting for the event, supposedly just a “mingle and drink” was what Charles had said. A good way to connect with other mutants from other parts of the world. It was important to him, so you wanted to make sure it ran as smoothly as possible.

“You look so fucking beautiful. Fuck.” he murmured, running his hands up and down your body, tickling your skin. “You make me think such dirty, dirty thoughts princess.”

“Oops.” you giggled, feeling a bulge against your backside, rubbing against the fabric. You hated to leave him high and dry, but Charles would kill you if you were late.

It would cause Logan to be on edge even more so then he was, but if he had it his way, you’d constantly stay in his bed.

“Now we gotta go. Oh- and, no guns, no claws.” you scolded, shimming out of his grasp to snatch up your handbag, stuffing the contents that had spilled out back inside messley.

“Hgmp.” he grumbled, reaching for your outstretched hand, trailing after you to walk into his own personal internal hell. If it meant he could support you, and even just see you- he would do it.

Not without a slight fuss though, to make you pity him.

“Don’t think about it Lo. Charles wants this to go perfectly… and I’m just-”

“Hey. hey, I’m just teasing you baby. I promise, I’ll be on my best behaviour, I wanna be there for you. But if any man tries it…” He stopped you, turning you back against the doorframe, his palm in your cheek, stroking it lovingly.

You met his eyes, soaking in their gentle gaze he only revealed to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just want an excuse to show off your hot date.” you teased, smiling softly.

He laughed, squeezing you close to his chest. You breathed in his cologne, smelling strongly of whisky and pine needles. It made you drunk, intoxicating you like white wine.

“You caught me there.” 

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

“Fashionably late” is what Logan called it, when you strolled into the ballroom of the old, castle-like manor, nearly twenty minutes past. You had urged him to pick up the pace, but he had distracted you with his lips whenever you tried to protest.

He had listened to you however, when you begged him not to mess up your makeup, only tugging on your lip with teeth instead of smearing it with his thumb.

Smiling meekly at Charles with your hair slightly out of place, you wiggled your way through the crowd, familiar and unfamiliar faces poking out at you.

You waved to Storm, smiling as she flirted with a mutant from out of town. Soaking in her shimmering silver dress, you gave her a big thumbs up, mouthing “you look so good!”, earning a stifled giggle from her as the man continued his conversation.

Logan watched you like a hawk from the side of the room, acting as a bodyguard. He seemed to sneer at anyone who you didn’t know get too close to you, even if they were just passing by.

He had showed up for you, so you let him sulk. It was the least you could do. You paid him no mind, occasionally looking over to see him nursing a whisky on the rocks in a fancy glass, adjusting his jacket as Rouge talked to him.

Giving him a little soft wave, you turned, bumping right into an unfamiliar face.

“Oh, my apologies- I should’ve watched where I was going.” you reassured, giving a curt nod and smile. You took a step, Charles popping into view- only an arms reach away.

“Hey, no worries. I hope I didn’t mess up your beautiful dress.” the stranger smiled, eyeing you up. It made you shiver in discomfort. “Oh thank you.” You tried to be as polite as you could be- hoping the conversation would end as quickly as it started.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “Oh- uh… Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“She doesn't care who you are.” a low voice growled, Logan slipping in front of you, shielding you from the stranger.

You could see the back muscles ripple through his tight jacket, threatening to tear in two. He must have sniffed out your immediate discomfort. You were grateful for it, as the hungry stares the man gave you made you uneasy.

“Woah bud. Chill out, I’m just saying hello.”

“You’re making my girl uncomfortable. And anyone who makes my girl-” he emphasised those two words. “-uncomfortable, gets fucked up.”

You felt Charles stare at the back of your head, and you frantically tried to pull him back before he threw a punch and made a scene. “Lo- let's go, lets just let it go.”

He snarled at the man, making him tremble slightly, trying to hide his discomfort the same way you had just done for him.

“I would listen to your girl.” he mocked.

“You shut the fuck up.” you snapped, stepping out from behind your guard dog of a boyfriend- finger right in his face. “I shouldn't even give you the time of day, you perv. I know what you're thinking about- and I would never be with you. Never in a million years.” you spat, turning sharply on your heel, not looking to see if anyone followed.

You felt heads turn as you strutted out of the ballroom, Charles being one of them.

He was a pervert. I’m getting some air. You telepathically told Charles, stomping towards an empty office down the hall- letting the door slam behind you. I understand, and I’ll take care of him, if Logan doesn't before me. He murmured, voice slipping from your mind as quick as it came.

You leaned against the mahogany desk, taking a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, you unzipped your dress just a tad, to give yourself more room to take deeper breaths.

A moment later, you heard loud footsteps stomp down the hall, Logan appearing from behind the closed door he opened. His eyes glinted with anger- a hunger and possessiveness that had you squeezing your thighs together.

The lock clicked, and within two strides he towered in front of you. “Lo-”

He kissed you so hard you swore you tasted coppery blood coat your bottom lip, and you moaned into his mouth. Melting into his touch, his hands held your neck- not letting you go anywhere, before hiking you up in his arms.

Office supplies were pushed to the side clattering to the ground as you were perched at the edge of the desk, legs wrapping around Logan tightly.

“Youre so fucking hot when you get like that. So worked up, letting that lil cat out to scratch.”

He growled in your mouth, hand slipping down to grab your ass, smacking it hard. “Mghm f-fuck Logan, he just made me so angry… and you protected me like always..”

“That man is not gonna make it tomorrow when I’m done with him.” he promised, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his claims.

“You’re mine. Mine, and fuck I’m gonna make sure you leave this room with everyone knowing that princess.”

“Lo- need y’so bad..” you whined, hand slipping down his chest to tug at the button of his dress pants. His bulge taunted you, and a hiss escaped from his lips as you grazed it through the fabric.

“Ya? You need me baby? Come and take me then, my big, strong girl.” he murmured, letting you pull him out of his confinements, the sheer size making your mouth water.

You never got tired of him, never got over how big he was. You struggled to tug your dress fully off, and he chuckled at the sight of you.

“So desperate hm? Need help?”

“N-no.” you mumbled, finally finding a way to shimmy it down. You wasted no time with the extras- simply pulling your thong to the side, as you guided him near your entrance.

“Your hands are so tiny on my cock baby. All of you is just so tiny, you need to be protected, hm?”

You nodded mindlessly, sighing in relief as he slid his cock up and down through your soaked folds, before sliding in and hitting home. Your mouth popped open with an O- as he never fully slid fully in without guiding it in slowly first.

He was needy tonight. You both were.

“Oh fuck baby. Fuck.”

You squeezed your legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter, trying your best to fuck yourself on him. It wasn't as good as what he did to you. You needed him.

“You poor lil thing. You need some help, you need daddy to fuck ya princess?”

You nodded, moaning as his hand found its way around your neck, squeezing softly as he pulled out, then back home- hips snapping at a rough pace that had you seeing stars.

You couldn't help but let the noises escape you- trying so hard to stay quiet but they slipped out, mixing with the slap of skin.

“Yeah let it all out baby. Let them all hear how good I fuck you. How you're mine, and no one else's.”

You looked into his eyes widely, as they started to fog over with pure pleasure. He hugged your gummy walls like a glove, his grunts and praises spurring you on. You couldn't help but look down, watching the way his cock slid deep inside you, the outline poking through your stomach.

“Lo- you’re so big.”

“And you're so tight, baby. You like lookin at how well you take me? Look over there.” he nodded his head over to the right, where a full length mirror stood.

You turned your head, watching as he rammed into you, pushing your legs up across his big, beefy shoulders, bending you to his will. His eyes met yours in the reflection, a cruel smirk forming on his lips as you gasped and whimmered his name as he fucked you.

“Such a pretty princess.” he whispered, hoping everyone could hear you.

Knowing those noises you made were because him- for him, and only him.

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men pretending to date you to get rid of unwanted attention

Pairings: Geto x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Choso x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count; 3,9k (Gojo's part is loooong)

Warnings: got carried away by Gojo again lol, no real warnings except creepy guys and fluff over fluff, forgive me Noritoshi lovers, I know I did our man dirty in Megumi's part

Geto Suguru

It’s a quiet afternoon in the city. You and Geto have been meeting at this cozy café once a week for months, a little ritual that started after one too many of countless exhausting missions. The place is familiar and comfortable, usually a perfect escape from the noise of jujutsu sorcery. But today, things are a little off.

You notice it immediately when you enter, the way the barista’s eyes follow you. He’s new, someone you’ve never seen here before, and while it’s normal for people to glance over at new faces, this guy’s gaze lingers. It’s unsettling, but you ignore it, not wanting to overthink things. Maybe it’s just the way your hair falls today or the fact that you’re still wearing your uniform since you’ve just returned from another mission.

You sit down across from Geto, who’s already sipping his tea and scrolling through his phone while lounging with his manspread on point.

As you allow yourself a sip of your favorite drink too, you try to relax. This has to be your imagination running wild, you aren’t even that pretty, right?

But every time you look up, the barista is staring at you, his eyes heavy with intent. Eventually, he makes his way over, holding a plate of complimentary cookies. Fuck, what are you supposed to do?

“These are for you,” he purrs, offering you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“On the house.”

You blink, taken aback. The stinging smell of way too much masculine perfume almost makes your guts turn and forces you to hold your breathe. You can tell by one look in his eyes what his intentions are – and they definitely aren’t sincerely.

“Oh, um, thanks,” you murmur, unsure of how to refuse without making things awkward.

The guy lingers, his attention focused solely on you. When he takes another step towards you, the alarm in your head starts going wild. What the hell does this creep want?

“You come here often, don’t you? I’ve noticed you a few times.”

Geto looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices the barista’s attention. He says nothing at first, but there’s a subtle tension in the air that wasn’t there before. There’s no doubt in the fact that you’re feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah, we come here a lot,” Geto interferes smoothly, his tone polite but firm.

“Together.”

The barista’s eyes flick to Geto for the first time, a shadow of irritation crossing his face. He clearly hadn’t noticed him before.

“Oh,” the guy mutters, his smile faltering.

“Are you two…?”

Geto leans forward in his chair, casually placing his warm hand on your thigh while giving you that smile that almost makes you choke. The move is subtle but possessive, his body language making it clear what he’s implying. And your body? Oh, you’re all over the place, your face already hot from the minimal touch of his palm.

“Yeah, we are” he replies simply, giving the barista a look that’s both confident and warning.

The guy frowns, obviously not pleased with the answer, but he doesn’t push it – much to your relief.

“Well, enjoy your cookies,” he gabbles before turning on his heel and heading back behind the counter.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your body finally relaxing as the barista moves away.

“That was weird,” you comment, glancing at Geto with a small, grateful smile.

Geto shrugs, his usual calm smile returning.

“Some people don’t know how to take a hint.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting against your thigh.

“Thanks for stepping in. I didn’t know how to handle that without being rude.”

“It’s no problem,” Geto replies, his fingers brushing lightly against your covered skin while he leans in slightly.

“Besides, pretending to be your boyfriend has its perks.”

Your cheeks flush even deeper at his words, but you laugh it off, knowing he’s just teasing…

Does he?

There’s something about the way his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than usual, the faint smirk on his lips that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” Geto finally declares, standing up and offering you his hand.

 “Let’s get out of here before that guy decides to bring us another free snack.”

You take his hand with a smile, letting him lead you out of the café, the tension from before completely forgotten.

Are you actually going insane or was there a…spark?

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s a typical day at the jujutsu high training grounds. You and Megumi have been sparring for a while, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to keep up with him. He’s quick, precise, and annoyingly good at reading your movements, but you’re giving it your all.

During a quick break, you head to the sidelines to grab some water. As you wipe the sweat from your brow, you notice one of the students from Kyoto High approaching. You’ve seen him around before, but you’ve never spoken much beyond the occasional greeting. After all, you’ll wring each other’s next in a few hours, there’s no need for any formalities. Was his name Noritoshi Kamo?  Before you’re even able to finish your sentence, he stands right in front of you…

And talks?  

“Hey, that was some impressive stuff out there,” he begins, leaning against the fence next to you.

His smile is strangely friendly enough, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes you uneasy.

“Sorry, are you talking to me?” you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you take another sip of water.

The guy doesn’t take the hint.

“You know, if you ever want some private training, I’d be happy to help,” he offers, stepping a little closer.

“I could teach you a few tricks.”

You stiffen slightly, your eyes flicking to where Megumi is standing a few meters away, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. Before you can respond, the guy takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out as if he’s about to touch your arm.

But before he can, Megumi steps forward, his expression hard.

“She’s not interested,” he says flatly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The guy blinks, taken aback by the sudden interruption. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were-”

“We are,” Megumi interrupts firmly, moving to stand between you and the guy.

His presence is protective but not overbearing, a silent wall that the other student quickly decides not to challenge. All you can do is to stare back and forth between the two. That guy, who never said anything to you and now suddenly tries to flirt and Megumi, who stands in front of you like a wall in order to protect you from unwanted attention? You have to be dreaming.

“Right… well, I’ll see you around, I guess,” the guy mutters awkwardly before turning and walking away.

Once he’s gone, you let out a small sigh of relief, glancing up at Megumi with a grateful smile, even though you can’t shake off those violent butterflies roaming around your stomach.

“Thanks for that. He was pretty straight forward and I was too bamboozled to act.”

Megumi shrugs, his usual stoic expression back in place.

 “He was bothering you.”

You smile, appreciating the way he always looks out for you, even if he tries to downplay it.

“Still, you didn’t have to step in like that.”

Megumi glances at you, his cheeks flushing just slightly before he looks away.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he mumbles.

“Besides, I didn’t want him to distract you from training.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his stubbornness. While this is the first time Megumi stood up for you in this strange way, you can’t help but fall over and over for that boy who hides his feelings like a treasure. Is there a chance that he might like you as well?

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

He doesn’t respond, but there’s a faint smile on his lips as he turns back to the training ground, ready to spar again. And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel the warmth in his actions - the way he stands a little closer, the way his eyes flick to you more often than usual.

“Maybe”, you mutter to yourself before returning to the training field by his side.

Choso Kamo

You never imagined that a simple grocery store run would turn into a whole situation. You’re wandering down the aisles, trying to decide between two different brands of pasta when you notice a guy lingering nearby. At first, you think nothing of it, people shop all the time, after all.

But then he approaches.

“Hey, need any help with that?” he asks, giving you a smile that’s a little too friendly for comfort.

You offer a polite smile back, shaking your head. Oh, you know men like him good enough, the ones who are only interested to drag you into bed. You’ve seen them countless times before, but in the grocery store? People are really desperate nowadays.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes roaming over you in a way that makes your skin crawl.

“You sure? I’ve got some great recipes I could share with you. Maybe over dinner sometime?”

You glance around, feeling trapped in the narrow aisle with no way out and no one nearby. Fuck, this isn’t good. Even if he won’t do anything in the grocery store, you still have to get back home – alone. And with that dark lust glittering in his eyes, he definitely won’t give up.

Just as you’re about to make up an excuse to leave and steady yourself for ramming your knee into his groin, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“She’s already got dinner plans,” Choso announces, his tone calm but firm as he steps up beside you.

Choso.

Your heart skips a beat when you seem him, his eyes resting comforting on yours. Choso’s here? He didn’t even mention that he’ll go shopping when you last saw him at jujutsu high.

He places a gentle hand on your lower back, guiding you away from the guy with a quiet confidence that leaves no room for argument.

The guy raises an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the interruption.

“Oh yeah? And who are you?”

Choso’s expression doesn’t change, his dark eyes locked on the man with a quiet intensity.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

The guy snorts, clearly not believing it at first, but when he sees the way Choso stands protectively at your side, he seems to reconsider.

“Right… well, my bad,” he mutters before turning and walking away.

You let out a shaky breath, your body relaxing as soon as the guy is out of sight.

“Thank you. I thought this creep will follow me until I’m home” you murmur, looking up at Choso with a relieved smile.

“You could have just killed him.”

“You know I couldn’t do that…”, you reply with a scolding undertone.

These past weeks, you’ve spent a lot time with Choso and taught him simple human interaction. Was this why he stood up for you like that?

Choso glances down at you, his hand still resting lightly on your back.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, more than grateful for his presence. Even though his hand still resting against your back sends shivers down your spine.

In a strangely good way.

“Yeah, I’m fine now. I just… didn’t know how to get rid of him.”

Choso frowns slightly, his gaze softening as he watches you.

“You don’t have to deal with that alone. I’m always here if you need me. From now own, we will go to the grocery store together” he replies quietly.

Your heart swells at his words, and you smile up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that goes beyond simple gratitude.

“I know. And I’m really lucky to have you.”

Choso’s cheeks flush slightly at your words, but he gives you a small nod, his usual calm demeanor returning.

“Let’s finish shopping,” he says, gently guiding you toward the next aisle.

“I’ll stick close, just in case.”

Gojo Satoru

The bass thumps through your body, the vibrations of the music almost tangible as they pulse through the packed nightclub. Neon lights flash over your head, casting everything in a rainbow of colors, and the crowd moves like a living, breathing body. It's a typical night out with Gojo, who insisted you both hit the club after a long week of missions.

You spot him easily in the chaos, standing at the bar with his signature sunglasses on even in the dim, flashing light. His presence is impossible to miss. After all, Gojo is always the center of attention wherever he goes. His tall frame, casual stance, and self-assured grin naturally draw people in. And tonight is no exception.

You watch from the other side of the club as a woman approaches him, her gaze locked on Gojo like a predator targeting her prey. She’s tall, confident, and clearly intent on making her move. At first, you don’t think much of it - this kind of thing happens all the time when you’re out with him. Gojo is Gojo, after all. But the way she leans into him, brushing her hand against his arm, makes something sharp twist in your gut.

You try to shake it off. You’re not the jealous type, and Gojo has always been playful when it comes to flirting. He simply enjoys the attention, but you know it’s harmless. Still, there’s something about the way this woman is looking at him that makes you feel uneasy.

Even though your not even his fucking girlfriend.

As you make your way through the crowd, heading toward the bar, you see the woman press herself closer to Gojo, her lips moving near his ear as she says something you can’t hear over the pounding music. Gojo’s grin only widens, and he says something back, causing the woman to laugh, her hand lingering on his chest.

Your pace quickens, a mix of frustration and something else bubbling up inside you. You’ve been with Gojo long enough to know how he works, but tonight, for some reason, the sight of him entertaining someone else makes your chest tighten.

Finally, you reach the bar just as the woman leans in even closer, her hand now resting on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say, louder than necessary to cut through the music.

“I see you’ve made a friend.”

Gojo turns his head at the sound of your voice, his trademark grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, hey, babe!” he calls over the music, completely unfazed.

“I was just chatting with—uh, sorry, what was your name again?”

Wait, did he just call you babe?

The woman looks visibly annoyed as Gojo fumbles for her name, her gaze flicking to you with thinly veiled irritation.

“I was just about to get us drinks,” she purrs, trying to brush off your presence, clearly not deterred by the fact that Gojo is here with you.

You raise an eyebrow at her audacity, but before you can respond, Gojo’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close to him with a casual but unmistakably possessive gesture. His hand rests securely on your hip, and he leans down so his mouth is close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You feel like fainting. Or maybe dying? Oh, your heart will definitely beat out of your chest if that dream continues.

“She’s not really my type,” he murmurs, his voice low but playful.

“I’m more into, well… you.”

Despite the loud music, the tension in the air shifts instantly. The woman stares at you, clearly catching Gojo’s not-so-subtle dismissal, her expression darkening. And you? If it wasn’t for Gojo’s hand that keeps you in place, you’d land straight on your wobbly knees.

“Really?” she huffs, glaring at you like you’ve somehow intruded on her territory.

“Yeah. Besides, I’m already taken” Gojo replies easily, his grin never wavering.

You feel a small surge of satisfaction at his words even though you know he’s lying to annoy the hell out of her, but the woman isn’t ready to give up just yet. She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You sure you’re not missing out?” she challenges, giving you a once-over that makes your skin crawl.

Gojo’s grip tightens on your waist, and this time, his playful smile fades just a fraction.

“Nope, I’m sure. I don’t think we need any drinks after all. They won’t help with your disgusting attitude anyway” he comments, his tone firmer.

With that, he smoothly turns his back on her, guiding you away from the bar and into the crowd. You glance back just in time to see the woman’s face fall, a mixture of disbelief and irritation crossing her features before she disappears into the crowd of people.

Once you’re safely away from the bar, Gojo turns to you, his grin back in place as if nothing happened.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice light and teasing, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up slightly.

“But you…Did you just call me your girlfriend?”

Gojo’s smile softens, and he reaches up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up so you’re looking at him.

“What if I did? Would that be okay for you?”

Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting to his words in an instant. Is he making fun of you, testing you? No, you can feel that he means it by the way he holds you by your waist, his fingers resting there like he’s afraid to let go. The world around you feels muffled, the music and the crowd fading into the background. It’s just you and Gojo now, his bright blue eyes shining under the neon lights.

You swallow, trying to find your voice.

“I-I… I don’t know,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like the confident façade you normally carry around him has vanished. The way he’s looking at you so seriously, intently, is doing things to your heart that you can’t quite control.

“I mean, you don’t-”

Gojo interrupts you with a soft laugh, his hand sliding up from your waist to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to answer right now, you know,” he mutters, his voice a little softer than before.

“But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I guess tonight just gave me the perfect excuse.”

You blink at him, too stunned to speak. Gojo Satoru, who flirts with everyone, who acts like nothing ever truly gets to him, has been thinking about you as more than just a friend? You’ve always had a bit of a thing for him, of course. It’s hard not to when he’s charming, gorgeous, and undeniably protective when it comes to you. But you never thought he felt the same way.

“I thought you were just messing with me,” you admit, your voice a little quieter now, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

He grins, though this time it’s softer, not the usual cocky smirk.

“I mess with everyone. But with you? It’s different. I don’t just want your attention, I want you.”

His words sink in, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something huge. You’ve seen Gojo in action. So fearless, confident, always in control, but the way he’s looking at you right now is different. He’s giving you the choice.

A swell of warmth floods through you as you meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank earlier, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s just so close, but you can’t hold back anymore.

“You’re not playing around, are you?” you ask, searching his face for any sign of his usual teasing.

His smile softens further as he shakes his head.

“Not this time.”

Something inside you snaps, and before you can stop yourself, you close the gap between you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a kiss that’s been building for far too long. Gojo freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you closer, and the world around you disappears completely.

The kiss is electric, everything you imagined it would be and more. You can feel the pent-up tension between you finally break as his lips move against yours, and when he deepens the kiss, your mind goes blank. All you can think about is the way he tastes, the way he feels, and the way your body seems to mold perfectly against his.

When you finally pull back, breathless and a little dizzy, Gojo is grinning down at you like you’ve just handed him the world.

“Well,” he comments, his voice slightly rougher than usual,

“I guess that answers my question.”

You laugh, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

“I guess it does.”

He doesn’t let go of you, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.

“You know, I don’t usually do this. Y’know, getting serious with anyone” he starts, his tone light but sincere.

“I know,” you reply, your smile softening.

“But I think we’re both a little different when it comes to each other, aren’t we?”

Gojo’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he nods.

“Yeah, we are” he murmurs, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek.

The club around you is still loud and chaotic, but in this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you. Gojo, for once, isn’t playing his usual games. His smile is genuine, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart race.

“So, does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend for real?” he questions, his grin slowly returning.

You laugh, feeling lightheaded and happy as you look up at him.

“Only if I get to call you my boyfriend.”

He raises an eyebrow, that familiar playful smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

Before you can say anything else, Gojo leans down and kisses you again, slow and deep, like he’s making sure this is real. And for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

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[moonstruckme]

hii!! i love ur blog lol. i saw ur requests were open and i thought maybe id send one in! no pressure at all to do it, thank you for writing what you write (it’s really comforting!) i was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a reader who is overworking herself for exams/college stuff and is hiding from her boyfriends because she knows they’ll be stern with her and make her take a break? so she tries to evade them but they foil her evil little plan lol. maybe like dom!remus… i’m obsessed w him.. just an idea!!!! have an amazing day 🩷

Thanks for requesting, hope you have an amazing day too!

cw: d/s dynamics to be found if you want them to be, mostly they're just bossy

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

There are nice voices seeping into your consciousness. Soft, comforting. You snuggle into the gentleness of their familiar hum. 

Something moves from underneath your face. You start to open your eyes, slow and reluctant, and when the something is gone your face lands in a warm palm. It feels safe, easy enough to settle into, but as you’re about to let yourself slip away again it strokes its thumb over your cheek. 

“Angel.” James’ voice sounds almost like he’s trying not to laugh. He thumbs your cheek again. “Angel, hey.” A pause. “She doesn’t seem to want to wake up.” 

“She’s awake,” Sirius says. You feel his hand sweep across your shoulder blades. “Come on, sweetness. This is no place to spend the night.” 

You make a disgruntled, whiny sound you’d never allow in full consciousness. Your eyes peel open. 

“There she is.” Sirius rubs your back encouragingly.

You blink blearily in the sickening fluorescent light of the library. James is squatting at face-level in front of you, his expression somewhere between fond and pitying, while Remus stands behind him with your backpack over his shoulder. You can see Sirius peering down at you in your periphery, his hand still moving over your back as though to keep you from falling back asleep. 

There doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. It must be late. 

“Oh, no,” you groan, forcing yourself up. Your neck and back crackle as you straighten, making James cringe. 

“I agree,” Sirius says smoothly. “I too would be devastated if I traded a warm and cozy bed with my loving boyfriends for a hard, cold desk. But don’t be embarrassed, there’s still time to make things right.” 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to rub wakefulness into them. “I…where’s my laptop?” 

“I have it,” says Remus. 

“I need it.” 

“You’ll get it back tomorrow.” 

A slow, heavy anxiety laces your bloodstream. “But I have to finish…” 

“Dove.” Remus’ voice is stern, though not unkind. “You have to sleep first. At home.”

You blink, your brain still lagging. “But…” 

“Sweetheart, c’mere.” James takes your face in his hand, angling you towards him. He brushes his thumb over the corners of your eyes, then smiles at you. “There. Sorry, you had crusties. Ready to go?” 

“I…” 

“Let’s go, babe.” Sirius winds an arm around your waist, hauling you up with him. “It’s definitely bedtime.” 

James chuckles. “Seems like it. Poor love.” 

“What about my stuff?” 

“I’ve got it, dove,” Remus reminds you. He frowns. “When was the last time you slept?” 

You think back. “Last night.” Was it really only last night? It feels eons ago. 

“But for how long?” 

“Uh…” you wince. “I dunno, a couple hours.” 

James makes a low pitying sound, and Remus’ frown worsens. On some level, you know you’d known they would react like this. Probably, you’d even known they were right. It was why you’d been spending as little time at home as possible, catching twenty-minute power naps in library chairs and avoiding your boyfriends. 

“Sweetheart,” Remus sounds tired himself, and guilt sprouts behind your ribcage, “you can’t run yourself ragged like this. It’s not sustainable. It’s not going to help with your schoolwork, and it’s awful for you besides. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

You heave a sigh. “I guess I just like living on the edge,” you grumble sardonically. 

Sirius huffs a laugh. He slots a piece of hair behind your ear. “Hey, recklessness is my thing,” he says, kissing your temple. “You need to get your own thing.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Remus chides. “You’ve tried your way, and it’s clearly not working. Right?” 

You’re silent. Then Sirius pinches your side, and you squeak, “Right.” 

“Good girl.” Remus’ tone warms some with amusement. “So we’re going to go home, and you’re going to sleep at least eight hours. Then, after you eat and drink something, you can have your laptop back. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You want to be more reluctant, but the allure of your boyfriends’ evil scheme is too tempting to resist. You don’t have the energy to fight them on it. “Thanks for coming to get me.” 

Remus holds the door open for you all to exit the library. As you pass, he cups your cheek with a small smile. “You’re welcome, dovey.” 

“And maybe during this next round of studying, you could take a break from time to time,” James suggests lightly. “I haven’t had a proper cuddle in days.” 

“Oi!” Sirius’ chin nearly smacks the side of your head as he whips around to see James. “What would you call what we did this afternoon?” 

“Not a proper cuddle. Your elbow has probably left a permanent indent in my stomach.” 

“There are people who would pay for a souvenir like that, Jamie.”

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji coming home late from a job, exhausted and knowing he messed up with you, again. All he wants is to be comforted by your warm body and to hear you talk his ear off before going to bed together, but instead he finds you fast asleep on the couch. He watches your curled up frame for a minute or two, feeling the achey heaviness of guilt in his chest. He promised you a movie, but things at work didn't go as smoothly as they normally do, and because of it, he's home later than he thought he would be. He doesn't blame you at all for losing your patience and succumbing to your tiredness, rather than fighting it, for his sake.

He smiles softly, admiring the bliss in your features, before quietly heading off to the bedroom to grab some clothes so he can tidy up before he even thinks about touching you.

Toji sees your shower products next to his, and though he doesn't plan on putting them on, like he has before in a state of longing for you, he does pick them up to take a whiff. The smells are as sweet and comforting as you. They help him wind down a little more after the day he's had. Your shampoo and body wash managed to distract him a bit. He stood there frozen, thinking of you as water cascaded down his body, until he remembered that you're in the house, sleeping on the couch, still waiting to see him. He expedites his shower, quickly gets dressed, and hurries up with his hygiene routine so he can get back to you.

When Toji returns, you're in a new position with your limbs all sprawled out. He watches you for another minute or so— you are the image of pure comfort on that old couch. Just being next to you could pass on the effect to him, but you're so enticing, and he really wants to be in that bubble of serenity with you. Before his proper judgement convinces him to carry you to bed, he's crawling between your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time, to make sure he doesn't wake you before he even starts adding his weight onto you.

Your sleep ridden eyes feel heavy as you peer them open and look at the man nuzzling himself into you. You hear the smallest little groans, almost like purring, as Toji continues to try and mold his body into yours. He knows he doesn't fit with you on this tiny couch, but you're so warm, and you smell like the body wash he inhaled in the shower. He's going to make it work.

"Hey, Toji," you mumble, dazedly, still half asleep. He almost melts at the feeling of your fingers running through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp with every passing. Your other arm comes up to rest on his back. He then realizes he's not close enough. Being right on top of you, with his head on your chest... Not close enough.

"What?" You laugh when Toji starts shifting again, those soft hums returning as he presses himself into you even more. He wants to be greedy and take all the comfort you can possibly give him. "Did you..." you giggle when he settles, his face buried in your neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Miss" is an understatement. Toji was ready to come home and cozy up in bed with you. He was ready to distract you from whatever movie you decided on, with kisses. He was ready for things to evolve into something more. He thought about this all day, and he's home now, and it's not at all what he thought it would be. The sad part is, you're not even mentioning these ruined plans. You're not upset with him for being home so late, you're not giving him the cold shoulder. You're the same loving girl he discussed these plans with in the morning and it makes him feel like a total asshole.

"Mhm. Are you comfortable sleeping like this? I can't move."

"Yes, Toji," you respond, immediately, though you know he's exaggerating. The question lures a soft laugh out of you. "You're acting like this is the first time you've ever plopped yourself down on me."

"Just making sure, doll, 'cause I don't wanna move," he says, with total honesty this time.

"You don't have to. You're the warmest blanket in this house. I scored by getting crushed."

"Yeah? I'm flattered." You can hear the smirk in his voice so clearly.

"And i'm flattened."

Silence. Crickets in the background. Everything is so still, you could hear a pin drop, and to make matters worse, you laughed at your own joke.

"I should go back to sleep," you say, knowing that when your nonsensical thoughts start spilling out, it's time to get some rest.

Toji's grin has yet to straighten out. He can tell you're still tired. He laughs, a sharp breath through his nose, at your ridiculousness. "Silly girl. Are you cold?"

"Impossible. I have a bear on top of me."

"Want me to go get the blanket? Wanna go to the room?"

"Stooooop, i'm fine." You kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Toji."

"Can you do that thing you always do?"

Without a word, your hand goes to the back of his head, and your fingers begin coursing through his hair, again, your nails dragging gently along his scalp, like before.

Toji sighs, contented and entirely at ease. "'night, doll."