#I want to be away from the chaos of life because my mind is chaos rn

[pruesgaultier]

a declaration of feelings

desc: singer agatha x actress rio. rio is away filming a movie and agatha writes a song (it’s totally not a love song.)

song used: forever, in this moment.

a/n: welcome to the first installment of my agathario song fic series where I write one shots based on songs from my agathario playlist ! i won't be taking reqs bc i get busy with work and i don't want the pressure of trying to give myself deadlines or trying to feel for songs I don't know, maybe in the future. for now, this is just low stakes fun.

Agatha Harkness sighed as she sat in her home studio surrounded by papers, sheet music and half-written verses alike. She had already tried her usual methods of focusing which included but were not limited to brain-dumping on a white board, petting Senor Scratchy like a Bond villain, writing bad lyrics to good music and good lyrics to bad music, but her mind was too preoccupied. Instead of writing a new song for her band Coven of Chaos’s new album, all she could think of was her girlfriend. Almost 3 years ago, Rio Vidal swept into Agatha’s life like a hurricane and she hated it. 

Well, not really. She hated how Rio not only made her feel other emotions, but she made her want to show them. It wasn’t a super drastic change, but she was much nicer than she used to be…sometimes and she smiled more, a lot more. Rio made her smile, made her laugh, and more often than not, made her think about settling down. 

To put it simply, Agatha Harkness was in love and she hated it, except she really didn’t.

(She just hated that none of this helped her write this fucking song.)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

After deciding to take yet another break, the singer went to make herself something to eat, she couldn’t cook as well as Rio, but she could make something decent enough. As she moved throughout the kitchen, she found herself mindlessly humming some of the lyrics she had written earlier. 

“My heart’s gone. She no longer lies by my side. She left at dawn and once again I lie alone.” The singer sang quietly to herself. Three weeks ago, Rio left to go to London and even though Agatha spoke to her in every spare moment of their free time, it just wasn’t the same. She missed Rio’s cooking, god did she miss her cooking, but she also missed just being with Rio. No work, fans, or press – just them in their bubble, forever. 

“It’s been three weeks. Your voice is all I have. Awaiting my love’s return.” Agatha continued singing, putting more of the song together. At this point, it felt like the lyrics were pouring out of her and she stopped in her tracks. “Scratchy, I think I finally figured this song out and of course it’s about Rio.” she said, turning to the rabbit with glee. Her food forgotten, she ran back to her home studio, Senor Scratchy hopping behind her. 

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“You wrote a love song?” her band members exclaimed in unison. Alice Wu-Gulliver, Jennifer Kale, and Billy (just Billy. He didn’t like to use his last name, either one of them because he didn’t want to make his parents, all 4 of them, feel bad.) Agatha resisted the urge to blush. It wasn’t a love song per se, it was more of an expression of her feelings for Rio in song form, but NOT a love song. “It’s not a love song, it’s more of a declaration. I don’t do love songs.” Agatha denied. “The same way how you didn’t do relationships before Rio?” Jen shot back. Agatha let out an exasperated sigh “Look, is it good or not?” she asked. “It’s amazing and I have the perfect music for it.” Alice said, excitedly turning toward her laptop. “This might be one of your best yet.” That did cause Agatha to blush. She’d written one of her best songs and it was about her girlfriend. 

(But it still wasn’t a love song !)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to hear it live, my love.” Rio’s voice came through Agatha’s headphones as she sat in hair and makeup. Tonight, Coven of Chaos were performing Forever – Agatha’s not love song – for the first time. Rio was usually always there during the first live performance, but work kept her away this time.”

“It’s fine. Besides, you’ll be home soon and that’s more important.” Agatha replied, more than understanding about Rio’s absence. “Somebody misses me.” Rio teased, just to see Agatha’s face turn red but honestly she was in the same boat. “Well if these flowers are any sign, I’d say you miss me too.” Agatha gestured to the line of flowers that were delivered to her dressing room, all from Rio. “You bring out the romantic in me.” Rio replied. 

Before Agatha could respond, the door burst open and her manager walked in. “Agatha, it's 5 minutes until showtime, you’re already performing a love song about her, your phone call can wait.” Lilia Calderu, said frantically. 

“It’s not a love song, it's –” “A declaration of feelings.” Lilia, the hairstylist, the makeup artists, and even Rio replied in unison. Agatha scoffed to cover up her flustered state. “You’re a traitor, Vidal.” Rio rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too baby. Good luck.” The singer softened “I love you more, my love.” she told her before hanging up.

“I love you too Lilia.” Lilia murmured mockingly. Icy blue eyes glared at her but the older woman ignored her, she was used to Agatha and her moodiness. “Let’s go lover girl. You have to perform your love song for your fans.” 

(Okay, so being in love does wonders for Agatha and she might have written a love song.)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The next day, Agatha was in her home studio on live. She doesn’t go live often, but she really wanted to interact and talk with her fans after their support of Forever. She was telling them about her very chaotic time writing the song when a voice sounded behind her. 

“You know if this were a horror movie, you’d be the perfect target.” Rio said, leaning against the wall. Agatha turned around, startled. “Jesus Christ! Rio, what the hell is wrong with you?” The actress smirked, waiting for Agatha’s brain to catch up. “Oh my god, you’re home.” Agatha jumped up making her way over to her girlfriend. “Surprise, m’lady.” Rio held out a flower which Agatha grabbed before kissing her passionately. Rio’s arms instantly went to the taller woman’s waist, pulling her closer. 

When they pulled away for air, Rio glanced at the phone, remembering that they technically weren’t alone. “Baby, the phone.” Rio pointed out when Agatha tried to kiss her again. “Right. Them.” the blue-eyed brunette turned her attention back to the phone where her fans were freaking out. 

“Well that was a lovely surprise.” Agatha said, setting the flower down next to her book. Rio came and sat on Agatha’s lap, the latter wrapping her arms around Rio’s waist. “What were you talking about anyway?” the shorter woman asked. “I was telling them how I wrote Forever.” that made Rio smile. “You mean the song you wrote for me that’s definitely a love song but you refuse to call it one?” Rio asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Agatha hated how attractive she looked when she did that.)

That made Agatha scoff. “Who says I wrote it about you? It could’ve been about Senor Scratchy.” she retorted. Rio laughed loudly before replying. “Scratchy wishes he could inspire such greatness.” she said cockily. “Just admit, you wrote me a love song. It’s really good, but I expected nothing less.”

“Of course it’s good, I wrote it.” Agatha remarked. “She’s so humble.” Rio muttered causing Agatha to pinch her side. “I don’t write love songs, they’re so cliche. The song is a declaration that you and I will be together forever.” Agatha declared. “So it’s a proposal?” Rio asked. “No, that’s also cliche. When I propose, it’ll be a proper one, down on a knee and everything.” 

Blue eyes met brown, “When you propose?” Rio whispered, as if she never considered it. “Sweetheart, I wrote you a love song and performed it on live television, of course I’m going to marry you one day.” Agatha stated as if it was the most obvious reveal. The singer was confused when Rio laughed suddenly. “You called it a love song.” she said, a huge smile on her face. “No I didn’t.” Agatha denied. “Yes you did.” Rio argued. “I know one of you recorded her saying that.” she said addressing the fans, who were going crazy over this whole interaction. 

“It’s already trending on twitter.” Rio laughed reading a comment. Agatha groaned dramatically. “Why do I put up with you? Any of you, you’re supposed to be on my side.” she pouted. “Because you love me and them and you write songs about me that they love.” Rio smiled happily. “Yeah, yeah. Well, this has been fun, but now I’m going to have hot, sweaty fun with my surprise, bye guys!” Agatha announced, ending the live. “You’re shameless.” Rio chuckled, shaking her head amused. “And you love me.” Agatha said matter of factly. “I do, very much.” Rio turned to straddle the woman beneath her. “Now, I believe you said something about hot sweaty fun?” she inquired before pulling Agatha into a passionate kiss.

Okay, so Agatha doesn’t hate being in love and maybe she did write a love song like a cliche popstar, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when the woman she loved more than anyone in the world kissed her like that. 

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 12: world on fire

word count: 2,256

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Days would pass since Tommy's near brush with death and your ascent from the dark. At first, no one asked where you were, but as the week progressed, Arthur and John were the first to talk to Tommy about it. He could tell—not that his brothers were particularly good at hiding their emotions—that they wondered if you were alright. Finn, who still held onto the little stories you shared, resisted entering the bookshop because, in time, you had nothing to say. He voiced his concern to Tommy, but it would take him another few days to find himself outside the shop, wondering if you were inside.

He reached for the knob, and it jammed. The front door was locked, but Tommy wasn’t one to be deterred by locked doors. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, the sound sharp and commanding.

After a long pause, the door creaked open just enough for you to peer out, your expression immediately hardening.

“What do you want?”

Funny. Those were the first words he spoke to you when he sat across your desk so long ago, and now here he was again. Only this time, you were the one demanding an answer.

Tommy stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the small space. He looked around the place that you always hid away in, and in some part of his mind—the part that also craved solitude among the chaos—understood, and he wished that he had a sanctuary like this of his own.

When he finally looked at you, you avoided his eyes.

“You haven't been back to the betting house. Or the Garrison.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. You kept your demeanor cold, posture guarded, but he caught the flicker of something in your eyes—sadness, maybe, or frustration. Most likely with him.

“Well, now you know I'm alive,” you said. "Is that all?"

There it was—the uncomfortable silence. But now, you couldn't wait. The longer you waited, the longer he'd be standing in front of you.

Your jaw tightened. “Then I guess, you're just here to take up time.”

Tommy removed his hat and placed it on the counter, hoping to take up as much time to put together a delicate answer for you. “We have unfinished business.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting.

He took a step closer, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You said gave me my life for my tragedy.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but, still, you said nothing.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Tommy continued, his voice low. “And I realized something.”

Your breath hitched, though you masked it well. “Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He hated this—hated the vulnerability, the uncertainty—but he forced himself to push through.

“You’ve already walked away from me more than once,” he said finally. “And, every time, I let you because of the debt I owe you. I'd rather not make that mistake again—debt or no debt.”

Your posture stiffened, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve got a choice,” he replied, his voice turning sharp. “You can keep weighing everything I do—everything you do—by value. By exchange. A debt for a debt, only giving what is equally worth the other, hiding behind that cold front of yours. Or you can look at me. And tell me, at last, what the fuck it is you really want.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged.

You opened your mouth to speak but faltered again, your usual sharp wit replaced by something softer, more uncertain.

Tommy stepped closer, his gaze boring into yours. “I’m not asking for answers tonight. But think about it, y/n. Because one way or another, it will come out—with or without your willingness to say it out loud.”

He turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. As he stepped into the cool night air, Tommy allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

The chessboard had shifted.

Now, it was your move.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The door shut behind him with a soft click, but the sound felt deafening in the silence that followed. You stood frozen, your back still against the counter, arms crossed as though holding yourself together.

You hated how much you hung onto his words until they crept under your skin. You hated that he could say so little and still unravel your carefully constructed defenses.

Your hands clenched into fists. Even as you thought through it all, doubt crept in. You had seen something in his eyes tonight—the same look of fragility—something he probably didn’t even realize he’d let slip. Vulnerability. Maybe even fear.

Your breathing caught at the base of your throat as another thought surfaced, unbidden. It was true. Every time, you were the one who walked away, and next time, he wouldn't let you. The thought alone was daunting, and you spent the next minute convincing yourself that he meant it as a threat. It wasn't though, it was a precarious decision he made on his own. He wouldn't let you walk away again to leave him alone.

The realization sent a chill down your spine. Tommy Shelby wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean. If he’d decided you were worth chasing, worth fighting for, he wouldn’t stop. And if he did stop, that meant he was wrong—you weren't worth it. Both concepts raged on in your head. You wanted to be worth it, but was all of this worth it to you?

Your grip on control slipped for just a moment, and you slammed your hand against the counter in frustration.

Needing someone—it was a terrible feeling, to the point where, long ago, you decided you'd never let yourself need someone again. The anger you felt towards yourself was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the frustration you felt towards Tommy. He was pushing you for an answer you didn't have, or perhaps, it was one he knew you would keep denying.

Wanting someone—there was no line of logic that would make it any better.

Your thoughts spiraled, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. There were bigger things at play.

Why did I save him, you kept asking yourself, what possessed me to go there?

The tip about Tommy replayed in your mind. Something about it hadn’t sat right with you from the beginning, but there was no time to think it through. Why would someone risk passing on information like that? Why to you, specifically? That could have gone to anyone—any of the Blinders would have readily gone to help Tommy if he needed it. So, why did that information fall into your lap?

Kennedy—a wiry fellow with shifty eyes and a devious demeanor. He’d seemed so eager, almost too eager, to help. Back when he was Bedlam's bookie, he was much more naïve, but you offered him a way out, a way to stay out of the line of fire by giving information when Arthur sought it out. So, why would he come back—willingly come back to you?

Bingham.

The name hit you like a lightning bolt. It was suddenly so obvious, too obvious. Bingham set you up. The tip wasn’t to help Tommy. It was to bait you into action, to make you reveal yourself—to show that, now, you had something you couldn't afford to lose. It didn't matter that you told yourself this agreement with Tommy was transactional. A lost investment would stay lost. But to lose Tommy was something else entirely, and you never would have allowed that to way on your conscience if he'd been killed.

You walked straight into it. Bingham knew, once again, that you allowed yourself to care enough to risk your security.

You pushed away from the counter, your heart pounding so violently it sent aches through your veins. If Bingham was watching, if this was all part of some plan, then Tommy’s visit tonight might not have gone unnoticed.

Your jaw clenched as the anger burned through your skin. You’d been a fool to think you could outmaneuver someone like Bingham without consequences. All at once, it was crumbling down at your feet. You could blame Tommy all you wanted, but all of this came down to the decision you made.

You ran to your office, hastily pulling one of the drawers, and reloaded your pistol. If someone was going to act tonight, let them. All you knew was that this wouldn't end well.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arthur and John Shelby lingered in the shadows, the bookshop just within view. Tommy told them to follow him there, his expression unreadable as he gave the order. Others remained in the car, each more confused than the next.

“She won’t like it,” Arthur muttered, lighting a cigarette. "If she swings a bottle at my head—"

“She doesn’t have to like it,” Tommy replied, his voice cold. “Just make sure she’s not alone. Finn and I will be at the Garrison.”

"You really think something's going to happen?" John asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Tommy didn't explained himself further, but Arthur and John didn’t really need an answer. They’d seen the way Tommy looked at you, even if he refused to admit it. He’d do what he always did—protect what mattered to him, whether or not he said it out loud.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

You stayed behind the counter, eyes darting back and forth between the passing shadows on the street. When the burden finally felt too heavy, you pressed your palms against your eyes, suddenly feeling so foolish at your paranoia. Bingham was too smart, and he already knew where you were. Why wouldn't he show himself? What would turning you mad do for him in the end?

You paced between the shelves of books, revolver at your side. You had to do something to keep your mind preoccupied, or else you really would go crazy. The maddening effects of staying awake for so long would get you first, and the mania would hit later. You were no good to anyone without your mind, but dying was so much more terrifying.

You looked down to the floor just as a shadow passed over the window, cloaking your legs in darkness.

The shot rang loud, piercing the window and into your shoulder. The burn came quickly, the force of the bullet sending you back into one of the shelves. You fired towards the shadow, and the window shattered completely.

The crack of your gun echoed down the street, but the damage was already done. The scent of petrol filled your lungs as it cascaded into your shop through the open window.

The flicker of flames caught your eye, and you turned to see fire licking at the edges of the bookshop’s doorway. Before you could move, a sharp pain erupted in your side. Amidst all of it, you never felt the second shot—the bullet still deep inside.

Your vision blurred, but you held yourself steady against the shelves. Your arm ran cold with the dampness of blood soaking your sleeve.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

“Bloody hell,” Arthur muttered, tossing his cigarette aside when he saw the flames.

John moved quickly, his hand on his gun. He screamed your name, the sound desperately fighting the din of crackling paper and splintering wood.

The car emptied as the two of them rushed toward the bookshop, Arthur cursing under his breath. They reached you just as you stumbled out of the doorway, nearly collapsing on the street.

“Find Tommy—” John commanded to the others as he grabbed your arm to steady you. They scattered in the direction of the Garrison.

“Get her out of here,” Arthur barked, his voice rough with urgency.

You tried to protest, but the pain was overwhelming. You wanted to tell them that your things were on the second floor, but the smoke overtook the street. Before long, everything would be lost.

“We’ll handle it,” Arthur said firmly, shoving you toward John. “Go!”

John half-carried you to the relative safety of an alleyway, his grip firm but careful. “Stay here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You leaned against the wall, breaths shallow. You watched as Arthur disappeared into the chaos, his gun raised, his silhouette outlined by the glow of the flames.

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning paper and charred wood. The night was lit up with the flames of the bookshop, a chaotic dance of fire and shadows that seemed to mirror your own inner turmoil. Blood soaked through your coat, warm and sticky. You staggered, leaning heavily on the side of the car as you watched everything be swallowed by light.

Arthur appeared from the smoke, his eyes narrowed and calculating as he took in the sight of your injuries. “Did they shoot you or try to gut you with a pitchfork?”

You managed a weak smile, the pain radiating through you like a live wire. “Gentleman’s choice, I suppose.”

“We need to get her to the Garrison now,” John muttered, his eyes dark with something that wasn’t just irritation.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in trying to stay upright. The effort left you feeling dizzy, the edges of your vision tinged with gray. By now the pain was blinding. John lifted you into the car, and the last you remember feeling before the burn took over again was the feeling of cold air blowing against your cheeks.

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Guilliman's Soup

"Look, I'm not going to harm any of you, not unless it involves stuffing Guilliman in a room without his....." Fulgrim trails off, the demon prince's lower half coiling in discomfort as he stares at the abomination that bubbled within the pot. It smelled distinctly of both Mjød and cigarettes, appearing as something that Fulgrim was uncertain if even a Nurgling would eat. He certainly wouldn't. Actually he doesn't think any Slaaneshi demon is depraved enough to even attempt to make such a thing. He shakes his head. "Will I be allowed to help?" Calgar, who was certainly not at all expecting to see the demon prince of excess himself at the entrance to the Imperial palace, couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand it meant that his primarch wasn't affected by any chaos god, if even Slaanesh was getting involved; on the other, did he really want to accept the help of a demon prince? Especially one that is well.... Calgar sighs deeply, "Fine, you might actually be a good deterrent to Dante anyway. He's been a pain in the ass" "Who is-" Fulgrim doesn't get to finish his sentence as a very old marine of what appears to be of the blood angel's chapter is shooed away by a serf with a broom, wacking the marine's shins with it as he hisses like an angry goose. Fulgrim has his answer on who Dante is but is now even further confused, "I thought Blood Angels were supposed to be noble?" "I'm hoping the soup will kill me" Dante helpfully responds which has the demon prince blinking in utter shock, because what the fuck happened to Sanguinius' sons!? Another Ultramarine, this one apparently named Cato is crawling on his hands and knees out of the room where Dante came from, coughing and generally being a rather sad sight with the stench of both vomit and the abominable liquid upon his breath. Slaanesh, who just briefly decided to turn her head towards whatever the fuck her demon prince was doing, vomits and mutters 'I can't believe none of this was Nurgle's idea; he actually wants the fucking recipe!'. Needless to say, Fulgrim doesn't really want to know what's exactly in that pot. Instead he dryly says "I'm amazed this hasn't summoned anything other then myself..." Calgor sighs "No, it has, there's the Sanguinor, and it's currently being kept back by some Sister of Silence out of fear that it's going to beat Dante to death with a sandle. Personally I'm not fond of trying to explain to the blood angels that we didn't kill their chapter master; it was the soul of Sanguinius, himself, that ended his life. I can't see that going too well...And Cato, please stop eating father's soup." "But-" "No buts or I'm throwing you into the same room as the Sanguinor" That stopped any more protests out of Cato who shuddered at the very idea of confronting the very angry warp spirit that was half of mind to possess someone.

The sound of what Fulgrim could still recognize after all these years as a very angry Leman Russ can be heard in the distance yelling "WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO WITH MY FUCKING MJOD, ROBOUTE!?" This was going to be a long and terrible process, Fulgrim just knows it. ____ This short story was inspired by a convo between myself and @moociaoafterdark on this post.

[gxtzeizm]

.

[heartoflesh]

I want out of this pain... I want out of this mental torture that suppresses my mind. I've wanted to die. How do you medically induce amnesia?

The only thing worth going through this pain is the gain of heaven some day.

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[lnfours]

august | l.n

summary: you were never mine ; aka the one where the summer fling comes crashing down, but after an unexpected face in the media pen, lando is left questioning why he ever left.

warnings: pretend lando got a later start in formula one, summer flings, slight brothers best friend!lando, reader ends up working in the industry, kinda second chance romance vibes, fluff, hints of angst if you squint, and mentions of sexual content. i had to cut this short because it was getting super long, so if you want a part two to this make sure to let me know :) anyways, happy august, my loves 🤍 may your air be salty and the rust be on your doors.

listen | masterlist

summer: your favorite time of the year. where you’d spend your days outside, salt heavy in the air and the cool ocean breeze whisking away all your problems. your few months of peace where nothing else in the world mattered more than sitting on the beach by the ocean during the day and sitting by the cozy bonfire after the sun had finally set.

peaceful, until you had met him.

getting swept off your feet by the boy your brother had befriended was the last thing on your mind. but nonetheless, you had. his charming smile with cute dimples had you head over heels. moles charting his skin like constellations making him so much prettier. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t breathtaking, laying on the lounge chair with his curls sitting almost perfectly against his forehead. so unaware at how your eyes danced over his figure behind your sunglasses.

a perfect example of beautiful chaos.

him and his siblings had gotten close to you and your brother, thankful for there to be people their age in the small costal town to befriend. you mostly kept to yourself and his sisters in efforts to push the crush you had quickly developed down. not wanting to start something that could never be finished. not wanting to put your heart on the line just for something to yank him from your grasps.

but after a week or so, you had caved in. getting to know him better every day. he had told you about his life back home, how he was a racer. wanting to make it to formula one, race amongst legends. you had told him about your studies in university, wanting to pursue journalism and things of that nature.

he listened with interest. being the only person who sounded interested in you talking about it, not like the others who had given quick responses when you had told them before. a change that brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart because he actually cared.

he had you opening up to him like a book, wanting nothing more than to understand the beautiful soul that stood in front of him. shared laughs and talks in the kitchen of your family’s vacation home echoing off the walls. sharing your deepest secrets, sharing stories about your youth that normally, you’d cringe about, but he found adorable.

and the two of you got closer, a bond forming between you. lingering glances and touches sending sparks through your bodies. and talks in the kitchen turned into conversations by the fire pit on nights where it’d just be the two of you. weeks of learning about each other. the weeks passed by quickly, and after the first month out of three he had known you like the back of his hand. and you had known everything there was to know about lando norris.

after a couple more weeks of subtle flirting and lingering glances, he had finally grown the courage to ask you what had been prodding at him since the moment he met you.

“can i take you out sometime?”

and like that, all your previous statements about not getting too attached, not wanting something for the sake of it being yanked away, was out the window. you met his green eyes, sparkling in the glow of the bonfire in front of you, a smile on your face as you spoke.

“sure.”

he pulled out all the stops. making reservations for the fancy restaurant downtown and bringing you flowers that had caught his eye in the shop window on the way back from his morning jog. a gesture that made you smile ear to ear and your heart beat quicken. a gesture that made you feel truly loved.

the first date turned into many more. wether it was getting dinner or ice cream in town, or heading towards the beach at sundown to watch the waves crash against the shore. the weeks carried on and you had dinner with his family, all of them ecstatic that he had found someone like you who loved their son the way they did.

you still remembered the day he had written against your skin. your stomach flat against the towel on the sand, back facing the sun that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean as the moon threatened to shine. he was propped up on his elbow, tracing shapes into your skin.

he drew with his fingers and you laughed softly, humming, “hmm, a star?”

he nodded, voice soft as he spoke again, “okay, i have one more. they’re words this time. ready?”

you hummed in approval, his index finger drawing a straight line against your spine.

i.

“i,” you said.

he nodded, writing out the next word.

love.

you furrowed your eyebrows as he drew the ‘e’, “love?”

“yeah,” he said, “last word, put them together.”

your heart squeezed against your chest as he wrote out the final word.

you.

you sat up, meeting his eyes, “you?”

he nodded again, smiling as he tucked the lose strand of hair away from your face.

“i love you.” it sounded heavenly coming from his lips.

you blinked at him, a smile finding its way to your lips, “i love you, too.”

you had pulled him closer by his neck, pressing your lips to his. his hand cupping your cheek, the two of you breaking away when the smiles had taken over your face, too wide to continue the kiss.

“c’mon,” you smiled, getting up from the towel. he followed your lead with a questioning look as you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the other hand grabbed your sandals. taking off towards the private entrance to the beach the lovely vacation home had come with.

“where’re you going?” he laughed, following you anyway. chasing after you with the towel in his hand.

“come find out!”

and he did, following you back up to the house. once he caught up, you were inside and up the stairs. you shut the door behind him, pulling him closer to you as your back pressed against the white wooden door.

“what’re you up to?” he smirked, letting your hands snake around his neck as his found their home on your hips.

“well, no one’s gonna be back for another couple hours,” you trailed on. he smiled, shaking his head.

“absolute minx.”

you smiled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his. he had immediately taken control, his hands moving to the back of your thighs before you understood that he wanted you to jump. he caught you with ease, never letting his lips leave yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, walking back towards your bed before he laid you down carefully.

you smiled as he climbed over you, leaving kisses against the exposed skin of your tummy in his path before his face met yours again, nose brushing against yours, “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

your hands roamed the skin of his back as his squeezed your hips before he pulled away, breathless.

“you’re sure?” he asked softly, “i don’t want this to be something you regret.”

you nodded, reaching behind you and pulling at the ties of your bikini top, tossing it to the side. he watched you with love filled eyes, mouth agape as your head hit the pillows again. a hand coming to rest against his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you smiled, “i love you, lando.”

and after that, you’d often find yourself twisted in your bedsheets with him. your head against his bare chest as your nails drew shapes into his skin. his lips leaving soft kisses to your hairline.

after one specific night, you had fallen asleep against him when he got the call. softly moving you to your side of the bed before walking towards the connected bathroom. the call he had been desperately waiting for.

it was finally his moment. he was making it big.

“can you be here monday?”

he glanced down at the date on his phone. it was two days from now. he’d never make it unless he left now.

he glanced back into the bedroom where your sleeping figure laid, head resting against the pillow as you slept peacefully. he swallowed, immediately feeling guilty. he should wake you up.

“lando?”

“hmm?” he quickly snapped back to the phone call, “sorry, uhm, you said monday?”

“yeah, just to sign some things. do some press, show you around, that sort of thing.”

he took a deep breath, “okay, yeah. sure, sounds good. i’ll see you monday.”

“see you monday,” zak brown’s voice was warm on the other end, “safe travels.”

lando pressed the red button with shaky hands, shoving his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked back into the bedroom. he grabbed his hoodie off the end of the bed, immediately feeling regret as he looked over your peaceful state. how you were unaware that he was about to leave and never come back.

and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a mumbled, “i love you,” to your hair, he walked out of the room. walked right out of your life just as quick as he had entered it.

when you woke up the next morning confused that he was no longer with you in your bed. you tried to call, but no answer. you were met with silence. even in your texts you were met with the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of each one. tears flowing down your cheeks as you were left wondering what you had done for him to disappear. to pretend like you were never a thing.

it wasn’t until the fall that you had seen his face again. this time on an instagram post from mclaren. announcing him as a full time driver. he wore a smile, the same floppy curls you had loved, were still messy. hitting against his forehead. he had finally got what he wanted.

and the years went on, you continued to see him pop up every so often. celebrating podium placements and achievements, finally living the life he wanted. the life he had suddenly chose that no longer included you.

he had checked in on you every so often, too. smiling softly when your face popped up on his screen as he’d scroll through your account. you had the life you wanted too, graduating from university and smiling at the camera as you held your diploma. the hard work you had put in finally paying off and meaning something.

he lost track at the amount of messages he had typed out and deleted in your dms. lost track of all the times he had wished he had told you, lost track of the different outcomes he had came up where the ending had you in it. even after convincing himself you were better off out of this lifestyle, he couldn’t help but wish you were.

the knocking on his drivers room had pulled him out of his thoughts, swiping out of your instagram account as the woman smiled sweetly in the doorway.

“they want you for media.”

he nodded, tossing his phone to the couch, tying the papaya race suit around his waist and slipping the mclaren cap back onto his curls, sporting it backwards as he followed the woman down the hallway.

“where’s oscar?”

“he’s already there,” she said sweetly, “hasn’t been there long, though. only a few minutes.”

he nodded, smiling politely at the woman before entering the media pen. she guided him to the opening, smiling before stepping to the side. he took a sip from his water bottle, smiling at the camera man who tapped your shoulder to get your attention. an apologetic smile on your face as you spoke, turning towards the fence, “sorry-“

the same green eyes met yours and the both of you stood in shock for a moment. sure, you had known you were going to bump into him eventually, but on your first day? was the media pen really lacking that many reporters?

“y/n?” he asked, voice soft as your heart hit the floor.

you swallowed, gripping your notepad a little harder as you sent him a tight lipped smile, “hi,”

“since when do you,” he stammered, tripping over his own words before taking a breath, “since when do you work for sky?”

“todays my first day, actually,” you said, a nervous smile on your face, and if he noticed, he thankfully didn’t mention it, “i see mclaren’s been treating you well.”

“y/n, can we-“

“let’s get started, yeah?” you dodged his question, glancing down at your notebook. he nodded softly in response and you motioned for your camera man to begin recording.

as you stood there asking him questions about his race, all he could think about was if you had wondered the same things he did. if you, too, laid awake at night and thought about all the different scenarios and lifetimes where the two of you ended up together. he wondered if you hated him for how he left you, without a proper goodbye.

he didn’t know it, but you could never hate him. even after all these years you couldn’t hate him with a single bone in your body. not when your heart still beats for him.

he opened his mouth to speak after you ended the interview, but it shut quickly as the woman in papaya cut off his thoughts, whisking him away to do more interviews. you watched as he left, a sad and regretful look on his face as he made his way to the next reporter.

“you alright?” your camera man asked, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip. a nervous tick of yours that everyone seemed to have caught onto.

you nodded, straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, pushing every thought you had to the side berore smiling at the man next to you, “yep, who do we have next?”

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader)

18+ MDNI, on Ao3

Chapter 2

Oops! Accidentally wrote another yandere story. This time its Alpha Shanks and Omega Reader.

If I have to keep thinking about it, you can read about it. It’s cringe, it’s overdone, it’s annoying and I don’t care. I did proofread this, but I'll likely do so again in the coming days.

TW: depression, suicidal ideation mentioned, non-con, dubcon, whump, abuse

MIND THE TAGS!

~

Shanks gets more than just the Poneglyphs when he destroys the Victoria Punk, he gets you too. Shanks is kinder than your previous owner, but an Emperor doesn't let treasures slip through his fingers.

~

As you sat on the floor in Kid’s cabin, wrists shackled and chained to his bed, you heard the tell tale sounds of fighting. You knew that Kid was going after Red Haired Shanks in an effort to dislodge the Emperor and take his title. You would never say anything for fear of being slapped across the face or worse, but you didn’t think he was going to win. At least, you hoped he didn’t. You hoped the Emperor killed everyone on board, yourself included. It was what the crew deserved, and your torment would finally end. You would be free of the hell your life had become since the Kid Pirates had taken you from your home. It would probably be a better ending for you than anything else that would happen, anyway.

You’d been living on Beta Island incognito, hiding your status as an Omega. You didn’t want to be sold to a Celestial Dragon in your late teens, as your parents had planned for you. So you’d escaped your home island shortly before your 13th birthday, evading patrol after patrol, living your life on the run. Eventually, you found yourself on Beta Island, which suited you just fine. Only Betas were allowed to live on the island, avoiding all the trouble that the other two dynamics brought with them. You’d taken suppressants since your escape and because you’d never gone into heat, you were able to pass yourself off as a regular Beta. It had been an idyllic time for you, as you worked and made friends with the Betas on your island. You had even deluded yourself into thinking that maybe your life would be alright, when the Kid pirates attacked the island.

You were running away from the chaos and destruction downtown, trying to keep from being spotted as well as you could. Scrambling through an alley, you passed the Captain himself, who was laughing at the bloodshed and pain he was causing innocent people. You thought he hadn’t seen you but you suddenly felt yourself being dragged backwards, back towards the pirate. Panicking, you tried even harder to wriggle away and escape but it proved to be pointless. Later, you found out that he was magnetizing the grommets in your clothes to bring you towards him. Captain Kid grabbed you in his metallic hand once you were close and inhaled a deep whiff of your scent. When you were on suppressants, your ability to scent was dulled but you could still tell you didn’t like his acrid aroma. Kid smelled like sweat, blood, oil, and anger, not an appealing combination. Pushing on the gigantic metallic arm, you tried in vain to dislodge yourself from his grasp. 

“What’s an Omega like you doing on Beta Island?” he asked, crushing your ribs with his gigantic fist. You weren’t sure if he knew his own strength, but he was keeping you in his clutches with ease.

“N-not O-omega,” you grunted out, trying to breathe through the constriction of his hand. You were still squirming, trying to get away from the large pirate.

“Oh yeah? You sure? Your pussy smells like Omega. It’s practically cryin’ for me to take you right here,” he sneered. “Oi! Killer! Take this one back to the ship, lock ‘er in my cabin.” He yelled to a man in a full face mask. Leaning closer to your face, he licked your neck and leered at you. “We’ll find out later if that pussy is Omega or not,” he said, handing you off to Killer. You tried to get away from the masked man, to no avail. Killer was just as strong as his Captain and wasn’t letting you down. Kicking, screaming, pounding his back did nothing as the first mate advanced towards the ship. 

Quickly chaining you to the Captains bed, the first mate considered you for a moment. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Omega. Lose the attitude. Otherwise, you won’t last long here.” 

He wasn’t wrong. 

Kid had come back to his cabin once the pirates had sufficiently destroyed your peaceful home. You huddled in the corner of the room, as far as your chains would let you, but the Captain had you before him in seconds. Covered in the blood of your former friends, the Captain had disrobed you, ripping through your clothes like they were paper. 

“Lemme see yer,” Kid said, ogling your now naked form. You tried not to cower, but you couldn’t help but tremble before the raw bloodlust in his eyes. You’d never taken a lover before, you had been too nervous it would interfere with your hormones and expose you as an Omega. Kid's leering had led to groping, which led to much more. That first night he’d bitten, clawed, bruised, kissed, and abused you, leaving you broken in spirit and body. You never fully recovered. You quickly learned he didn’t want you talking, didn't want you making eye contact, didn’t want to hear your crying, didn’t want anything from you except your body. He used you as he saw fit, as ruthless to you as he had been to your island. He never even asked your name, most often calling you ‘Omega,’ or ‘Bitch,’ among other colorful names.

You were the Captain’s sex doll, and the crew treated you as such. No one paid you any mind except to tell you to move the fuck out of the way, or to laugh at you as you stumbled out of the Captain’s quarters when he let you. Killer would occasionally bandage your wounds, but Kid preferred you to wear the marks he put on you. Kid wanted the mating bond to form between the two of you, to solidify the fact that you were his and prevent any rivals from taking you. To do that, he needed to bring you into heat. To try to get you to go into heat, he had tried any old wives tale he could find. He locked you in his quarters, denied you food except for his cum, kept you naked for days on end, bit your neck in a claiming bite, anything that might work. None of it did, but it all left you weakened, depleted, and suicidal. 

Even though you could practically feel his disdain for you, Kid sometimes told you his plans late at night after he finished pumping you full of his come. As you laid with tears drying on your cheeks and blood dripping from fresh wounds he’d given you, he told you about his simmering hatred for Red Haired Shanks and how he wanted his revenge. During these conversations, you encouraged him, praising his strength and skill, and told him that he absolutely was powerful enough to take on the Emperor. You were surprised that your voice held out while you were talking, both from disuse as well as from the effort you had to put into lying to his face. Once when you voiced these opinions, he’d stroked your skin while in thought, the first time his touch hadn’t hurt you. 

The day finally came that he attacked the Emperor. You’d heard him powering up his attack, laughing maniacally as he planned to wipe out the fleet of ships you could see from his cabin window. You cringed, waiting for the sounds of the dying….except it never came. Instead, a sonorous voice boomed out “Divine Departure,” bringing a deafening blast to your ship. Screams had followed, but not the ones you were used to. Rather, you detected the screams coming from the crew, yelling that they didn’t want to die, that the Captain had been defeated, that Killer was also knocked out. 

You couldn’t help it, you laughed long and hard, cackling into the darkness that had consumed the ship. You knew your voice had been ruined from too much choking and screaming, your vocal chords permanently damaged at the hands of your would be Alpha. The sounds you made were harsh and coarse, like a ghoul laughing from beyond the grave. Normally you were too ashamed to speak with your butchered voice, but you were too joyous to care. You were happy he’d received vengeance for some of the violence he brought to the world. You could only hope the ship sank and the rest of you with it. 

A few moments later, the door banged open and Emma stood before you, tears running down her face. She didn’t address you, just unchained you from the post on the Captain's bed and pulled you along with her. She was carrying the Poneglyphs, the Captain’s most prized possession aside from you. Emma was running, giving you barely enough time to avoid being dragged, as she brought you to the center of the deck. She bowed, and when you didn’t follow suit right away, kicked you so that you fell to your knees. Glancing up, you saw why.

All powerful Emperor Red Haired Shanks was on the Victoria Punk, staring down the crew impassively as they pleaded for their lives. You dropped your head, not making eye contact with the Emperor. You’d been hit enough to know that Alphas didn’t want you making eye contact with them in any capacity. Shanks approached Heat, who now held both the Poneglyphs and the end of your chain.

Shanks POV

Shanks observed the panicking Commander as he advanced towards their Captain. Kid’s crew were begging for Shanks’s forgiveness, something that would not be given. They had tried to annihilate his subordinate crews and would have, if Shanks hadn’t acted so quickly. Drawing a gun was dangerous, it put your life on the line. And Kid had been given a warning when Beckman shot off his arm. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way. 

A young woman brought the Road Poneglyphs in her hands, along with someone attached to the end of a chain. Handing her Commander both items, the blue haired girl bowed in supplication to Shanks, awaiting his judgment. Noting the chained woman didn’t do the same, the girl kicked the battered woman, bringing her to her knees. Shanks took the Poneglyphs from the Commander, who also handed him the end of the chain of the cowering woman. Shanks had no interest in slaves, he didn’t keep or want any. The slave kept her gaze averted, looking at the ground as she trembled. Her body was littered with bruises in various stages of healing, as well as cuts and welts. She bore a savage mating bite that was clearly infected, along with bruising circling her neck. Breathing in deeply, Shanks hid his surprise as he realized the small woman was an Omega. 

Omegas were exceedingly rare in the world, they were either sold to Celestial Dragons for an incredible amount of money, or outright stolen from their homes. If an Omega bred with an Alpha or Apex Alpha during their heat, the offspring was guaranteed to be either an Alpha or Omega, unlike other pairings. Because the Celestial Dragons took or bought nearly all of the Omegas in the world, wild Omegas were unbelievably scarce. Shanks hadn’t heard of one being found in over a decade. How the Kid pirates had managed to find one and kept her a secret, Shanks didn’t know. 

He said nothing as his own ship passed by, his crew calling out to him. Shanks removed his Emperor’s cloak, covering the shivering woman in its warmth and his scent. Your small trembling fingers took the fabric and held it shut around your body, as you sniffed the material. You still hadn’t said a word or looked at anything besides the floor, but there would be time to investigate later. Throwing the Omega over his shoulder, Shanks took the Poneglyphs in hand and stepped on the railing of the enemy ship. You were light and put up no struggle when Shanks took you, the only sound emanating from you was the clinking of your chains.

“Look over on the island!” Shanks heard the offending crew yell as he launched himself onto the Red Force. The Omega didn’t shout or scream, just gripped his shoulder a little more tightly as he darted into the air. Landing on the Red Force, Shanks yelled out for Hongo.

“Meet me in my cabin. Ten minutes,” Shanks ordered. The doctor nodded his assent, and went below deck, likely to the infirmary to gather supplies. Handing the Poneglyphs to Beckman, Shanks shifted the Omega in his arms so he was carrying you with his arm under your legs. You moved your face so it was buried in the crook of Shanks’s neck, avoiding looking at either the ship or the crew assembled on the deck. He hoped you were acclimating yourself to his scent, it would make your transition away from your previous mate easier. Even through the fear and pain Shanks smelled on you, he could tell your scent was absolutely delicious, like no other woman he’d smelled before. His cock twitched with the thought of claiming you for his own, though your medical issues needed attention first.

Bringing you to his cabin, Shanks shut the door behind you quietly. Depositing the woman onto his bed, you shrank back further into the cloak as if to hide yourself. You gripped the hem of the garment so hard that your fingers were turning white, matching your face as the color drained out. Ah , Shanks thought to himself, she thinks I’m going to ravage her right now like some animal . It made sense, he’d put you on his bed, what else were you going to think? 

Sitting down next to you on the bed, Shanks didn’t speak. Instead, for the first time in the Emperor’s life, he purred. He was an Apex Alpha, a rare breed of Alpha who was able to control other Alphas. It came with Conqueror’s Haki, the two traits going hand in hand. Purring came to him instinctively, but he’d never felt the urge to do so before. He’d had lovers who’d requested it, but Shanks had always laughed them off like they’d told a joke. But seeing you distressed made the rumble come almost unbidden, rising from his chest like a balm. You still didn’t look at him, but your fingers relaxed incrementally. Shanks continued purring for you as you tensed at his presence next to you, tenderly picking you up to sit on his lap. You sat upright, stiff, your body rigid with fear and apprehension.

“Easy, little Omega, easy,” Shanks said between purrs. You didn’t respond but didn’t object either physically or verbally to anything he was doing. Shanks wound his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The rhythmic sounds were working, lulling you into a state of relaxation and calm as your hands dropped to your lap and your head relaxed against his chest.

Your POV

You were gripping onto the Emperor’s black cloak like it was going to shield you from whatever was going to happen next. It was heavy and warm, smelling like tobacco, cloves, and oranges, a heady combination. Even if your life would be no better under the Emperor, at least this scent wouldn’t make the bile rise in your throat. 

You were still avoiding his gaze, your wrists shaking in the chains under his watch. He’d put you on his bed, likely for the same reasons Kid always had. At least he hadn’t thrown you against the wall or forced you to suck his cock first, making you choke until you cried or passed out. Much to your dismay, he began to purr for you. You’d heard stories during your childhood about the Alpha purr. There were whispers that it was a form of mind control, that it was used to beguile Omegas into doing things against their will. Kid had already done a lot of things against your will, the Emperor didn’t need to purr to make you do anything. You hoped this wasn't a precursor to something vile, though you were long past wishful thinking.

But as the Emperor continued to purr and moved you into his lap, you felt it working despite your efforts to remain alert. The soothing rumble had you taking deep breaths and relaxing your hands. You felt your exhaustion returning to you, adrenaline finally having run its course. Against your better judgment, you laid your head on the broad chest of the Emperor behind you. His well muscled arm encircled you, and you were content to forget the horrors that would likely await you in the coming days, feeling only the warmth and comfort of an Apex Alpha’s purr.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the cabin, making you jerk upright once again. You’d looked at the door when you’d been surprised, but you quickly affixed your gaze to the floor once again. You hoped Shanks hadn’t seen your mistake, or that he would be willing to forgive you if he did. But he didn’t move to strike you at all, just called out to whoever had the audacity to bother the Captain. 

“Come in, Hongo,” he said calmly. You wanted to hide your face in the crook of his neck again, but you knew there would be no solace found seeking comfort where there was none. Opening the door, a large man with blonde hair came inside, carrying a black leather doctor’s case. You said nothing and remained in place, it was the safest route for the time being. The man, whose name you now knew to be Hongo, walked slowly towards you and his Captain, as if he was walking towards a wild animal.

“How’re we doin’, Captain?” he asked, surveying the scene in front of him. The Captain obviously hadn’t been hurt, he was talking about you.

“Alright,” Shanks answered, arm squeezing you a little tighter. You flinched as the memories of being crushed by Kid’s arm came flooding back to you. “They had an Omega. She needs some help,” he said softly, patting your thigh over his cloak. You were acutely aware that you were completely nude below the cloak. You hoped Shanks wouldn’t take you in front of Hongo, or at least not for the first time. Kid had done whatever he wanted, it didn’t matter to him who saw what he did to you. 

“Sure, no problem,” Hongo replied easily, opening his bag. He brought out a stethoscope first, something you were familiar with. Winding the scope around his neck, he slowly pried the cloak out of your fingers in order to put the bell on your skin. You desperately wanted to stay within the safety of the cloak, but you knew you had no power. If they wanted to see you naked, they were going to get what they wanted. Surprisingly, Hongo didn’t remove the cloak completely, allowing you use it to cover your breasts and lower half while he worked. As Hongo placed the buds in his ears and reached towards you with the scope, you leaned back and away from the advancing hands. You hadn’t meant to, it was instinctive. Shanks started purring for you again as he gently but firmly kept you in place for Hongo, his arm across your waist.

“You’re safe, Omega, he’s not going to hurt you. He’s just checking your lungs and heart,” the Captain said softly. Hongo took his time listening, moving the scope around your back and front. Once he was done, he put the scope away and took out medical gloves. 

“I’m gonna check the wounds on your top half and neck, OK?” Hongo informed you. You said nothing as he began touching the injuries that you’d suffered at the hands of Kid. You kept yourself from making any noises of pain or recoiling when he touched something painful. You knew you looked beaten and ugly, despite avoiding the mirror. Kid always left bite marks, bruises, hickeys, and cuts whenever he was with you. Your breasts looked like they’d been mauled the last time you’d checked them. But the worst of all was your neck - between the times he’d choked you, the bite he’d given you, and the attention he gave your scent glands nightly, it was a column of black and blue. In spite of your efforts, you hissed when Hongo touched your neck tried to move away from his efficient hands. 

But the men weren’t going to let you shrink away from the medical inspection. Shanks cradled your head against his shoulder when Hongo inspected the agonizing bite on the spot between your neck and shoulder, purring all the while. You knew there was something wrong with it, but Kid had never let you touch it or clean the wound, saying that it would affect your mating bond. You thanked the seas that the bond hadn’t formed, but the throbbing pain of the bite had only gotten worse.

“You’ve got a lot of wounds on your torso and neck. Are there more below?” Hongo asked quietly when he was done inspecting your top half. You waited, not knowing if they wanted you to respond or not. Sometimes it was a trick, people would talk about you while you were there but if you responded, you got in trouble. 

“Hm, do you? I thought I saw some before,” Shanks asked you benignly, rubbing his fingers in circles over your skin. They were both quiet for a few moments and you realized they were waiting for you to respond. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk, so you gave a shaky nod while continuing to look at the floor.

“I’m gonna have to look, OK?” Hongo said, crouching down in front of the Captain. He was trying to make eye contact, but you steadfastly stared down, in order to show your obedience. You blinked rapidly several times, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. You’d been naked in front of so many people, but the fact that Hongo was asking made you feel more vulnerable than ever. You nodded again, but your hands were frozen in place, gripping the cloak with all your meager strength.

“Brave little Omega, doing so well,” the Emperor said into your hair, kissing the top of your head. You didn’t know when the last time you’d been allowed to bathe was, you were sure you smelled disgusting. Shanks unwound his arm from your waist, and slowly tugged the fabric from your hands, letting it fall onto your lap. You tried not to squirm, not to move as the doctor touched your welts and cuts, but you felt humiliated and debased as he poked and prodded you. After a few minutes of inspection, Hongo sighed, stood up to his full towering height and snapped off the gloves.

“There’s a lot going on,” he said to the Emperor, who had rapidly covered you back in the cloak. “She’s got a lot of wounds, some healing, some new. That bite on her neck is infected, it needs to be taken care of immediately. She’s malnourished and has at least one broken rib. And she’s going to go into heat soon.” 

Your eyes finally snapped to the doctor’s, everything lost to the panic suddenly overwhelming you. 

Shanks POV

Perhaps having Dorry and Broggy destroy the ship wasn’t enough. As Shanks watched you flinch away from Hongo’s inspection, his rage rose by the second. He’d seen your naked form on the ship, but the dim light hadn’t revealed to him the depth of your injuries. It was practically a miracle that you were still alive, Shanks thought. It was well known that Omegas weren’t as durable as Betas and Alphas, they were generally treated with care like the treasures they were. But not only were you littered with wounds from head to toe, but you were a shell of a person. You hadn’t said a single word, you hadn’t made eye contact with him yet, and you hadn’t moved an inch outside of where Shanks had placed you. 

Now, with the information that you were going into heat soon, you were panicking. Shanks could feel your heart beating rapidly and saw your chest rising and falling too quickly. The Alpha in him was worried, wanting to soothe the Omega still perched on his lap. Shanks put his hand over your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Even if the Alpha in him wanted to purr and cuddle you until you calmed down, the Captain needed to get a little more information out of you first. You were still lost in your own world, not responding to any stimulus.

“It’s alright, Sweetheart. Everything is going to be just fine. When was your last heat, hmm?” Shanks asked, holding your face in his hand. The touch seemed to ground you, causing you to blink rapidly as if you suddenly remembered there were other people in the room. You shook your head at his question, making Shanks frown at your answer. The longer an Omega went without a heat, the lengthier and more severe the symptoms were when it reappeared. Shanks hoped you hadn’t gone into heat during your time in captivity, it would increase the likelihood of an unwanted pregnancy. Looking at your body, he couldn’t imagine you were capable of carrying life in your current state. 

“What do you mean, little Omega? You haven’t had a heat in a year? Or longer?” Shanks asked. He knew you were scared and upset, but he and Hongo needed to know this information, it was part of the way they would take care of you. He gently turned your face towards his, forcing you to look up at him. You finally looked at his face, though you didn’t meet his eyes. You shook your head again.

“Tell me more, I need to know how to help you,” Shanks prompted, stroking your cheek. You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather yourself before speaking.

“Never,” you said in a hoarse whisper. Shanks recognized the voice from the laughter in the wake of battle.

“Never? What do you mean? This would be your first heat?” Hongo asked incredulously. Shanks hadn’t met another Omega, but it was known that they typically had their first heat cycle in their upper teens. 

You nodded, a tear running down your cheek. 

[deliciousangelfestival]

He's A Killer

Summary: She’s known among her family and friends for being single, and everyone worries about her. Determined to prove them wrong, she finally makes her first move, only to discover that the person she likes is dangerous.

The second part : He's The Sweetest

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The emergency room of St. Grace Medical Center buzzes with activity. Doctors and nurses move swiftly, handling patients with precision. Voices blur together in the chaos, and the sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air.

You're inside the medical storage room, scanning shelves for the supplies the doctor requested: syringes, tubes, and medication vials. Besides, you is Clara, your co-worker and friend, busy sorting through trays.

"I told you I had that family dinner, right?" you say, picking up a pack of syringes.

"Yeah, how was it?" Clara asks, not looking up from the tray she's organizing.

“Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful,” you reply, shaking your head in exasperation.

Clara glances at you, a smirk forming. "Wow, three times? That bad, huh?"

The memory flashes through your mind: Sunday, family dinner. You sit across from your aunts, who seem more interested in your love life than the meal.

"Your mom’s worried about you, you know," one of your aunts says between bites. "She didn't tell you because she's afraid of hurting your feelings," another aunt adds. "You’re already over 30; the clock is ticking." "My friend’s son works at the oil company. I could get his contact if you want. He’s a good catch."

Back in the storage room, Clara's voice breaks through your thoughts. "Well, you probably won’t like this, but your aunt’s kinda right. I mean, bestie, I’m only saying this because I care about you."

You hum, trying to keep your focus on entering patient data into the system. Clara means well, but the topic is starting to get old.

“Honey, you’re a great friend and an amazing co-worker. Everyone here relies on you because you’re so reliable. You know why?” Clara’s voice softens as she leans in. “Because you’re single. You don’t have someone waiting for you, or someone to hang out with on Saturdays and Sundays.”

You freeze for a moment, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Please, go out and talk to someone," she continues. "You've been single for way too long. You deserve some love, girl. It’s not like you need to get married right away.”

Clara shudders, as if the thought gives her chills. “No, not at all! Just, you know, make friends first?” She winks playfully before gathering a tray of supplies and heading out to assist the doctor.

Alone in the storage room, you sigh, leaning against the counter for a moment. Clara means well, but every time someone offers to introduce you to someone, it irks you. You know you’ve been single for a long time—your whole life, really—but it’s not that you don’t want a relationship.

It’s complicated.

You've seen too many relationships fall apart. Your parents, your aunts, your cousins—all their stories weigh on you. The cheating, the abuse, the constant reminders from your cousins: “Don’t get married.” It’s no wonder you’re hesitant.

But what stings the most is finding out your father, who you always thought was a devoted husband, had cheated on your mom. That betrayal shaped your fears. You don’t want to end up like her—trapped in a painful, one-sided marriage.

Part of you is scared of commitment, scared of getting hurt. But another part of you craves it—a real connection. The irony of it all is that the same aunts pushing you to settle down are stuck in abusive marriages themselves. It’s almost comedic, in a sad, twisted way.

You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside as you gather the last of the supplies.

🐼🐼🐼🐼🐼

Working at ER felt like living in a whirlwind. You rarely went home, often staying for almost 24 hours at a time. The chaos of patients coming in with life-threatening injuries, doctors shouting orders, and the constant rush to save lives left you drained but fulfilled. When you finally had a day off, there was only one thing you looked forward to—visiting the zoo to see your favorite animal: the panda. 🐼

You’ve always had a soft spot for pandas. Something about their calm, slow movements and gentle nature soothed you. The baby panda, in particular, had become your little escape. Watching it tumble around, clumsily explore, or nibble on bamboo always brought you a sense of peace. You had its appearances memorized on your schedule since it wasn’t allowed out every day.

Today was one of those rare days off, and you made your way to the zoo, excited to see the baby panda. But when you arrived, the mood shifted. A zoo employee stood in front of the panda enclosure, addressing the crowd of disappointed families.

“Sorry folks, the panda viewing has been rescheduled. We have made an announcement on our social media last week—we worked on it all night, without sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Without sleep? Try handling an ER at peak hours. Annoyed but resigned, you sighed and checked the next available viewing time. As the crowd started dispersing, one person caught your attention.

A tall man stood at the panda window, his broad shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed deeply before turning around. That’s when your eyes met. It wasn’t intentional, but the sudden connection caught you off guard. Quickly, you bowed your head and hurried away, feeling your cheeks warm from the brief moment.

The next day, you returned to the zoo, and this time, the baby panda was out. You joined the crowd, eager to see your favorite animal. The baby panda was as adorable as ever, tumbling clumsily around its habitat. You found yourself smiling, the sight of it immediately calming your busy mind. But as you glanced around, you saw him again—the tall man from yesterday. He was also watching the panda, just as captivated as the rest of the crowd.

The panda display ended too soon, and just as you were about to leave, the sky opened up and rain started pouring. The panda enclosure was far from the main entrance, and there was no shelter nearby. Luckily, you always carried an umbrella. As you received a message from the hospital calling you in for an emergency, you saw other visitors quickly opening their umbrellas and leaving one by one.

Soon, it was just you and the tall man left in the rain.

You noticed him glancing at his watch, pacing back and forth like he was debating whether to make a run for it. His indecision made you smile. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the weather. Without thinking much of it, you walked up to him, holding out your umbrella.

“Ehm,” you said, voice slightly raised over the sound of the rain. “Want to walk to the gate together?”

His eyes flicked to the umbrella in your hand before he gave you a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, stepping under it with you.

The walk was quiet, the sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella louder than any conversation you might have had. It should have felt awkward—after all, you were strangers—but the rain filled the silence. He stayed close to your side, even leaning a little toward you to make sure you weren’t getting wet. You noticed his left side was already damp, but he didn’t seem to care. Is he a gentleman? you wondered as you both continued walking.

When you finally reached the entrance, you closed your umbrella. The man pointed toward the parking lot. “My car’s pretty far,” he said, glancing toward the rain-soaked lot.

“I’ve got to go too,” you replied, showing him your phone. “I booked a car from the app. It should be here soon.”

He nodded, still standing close. You hesitated for a moment, then held out the umbrella to him. “Here. Take this. It’s better than running through the rain.”

He blinked in surprise, looking down at the umbrella. “How do I return this to you?”

You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It’s alright. I have more. But… if you really want to return it, you can find me at the hospital E.R. St. Grace Medical Center.”

His lips curled into a small smile, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Alright then, the hospital. I’ll remember that.”

Before he could say anything more, your car pulled up. You gave him one last smile, ducking into the back seat, and as you drove off, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see him again.

🐼🐼🐼🐼

The night shift at St. Grace Medical Center had just begun, but unlike most nights, the ER was unusually quiet. A handful of patients sat in the waiting area, the usual chaos replaced by a lull. The soft beeping of monitors filled the air, interrupted occasionally by the rustle of paperwork or a distant cough.

Clara, your ever-observant co-worker, stood beside you, arms crossed, her brow raised in curiosity. "You look different tonight. What’s going on?" She tilted her head, smirking slightly.

You paused, your lips twitching into a small smile. "Well… I met this guy when I went to see my favorite panda."

Clara’s smirk grew wide. “Ah, the fluffy black and white mammals. So, what makes this guy more special than your favorite animal?”

You were about to answer when a loud commotion broke out near the entrance. A drunk patient stumbled through the doors, yelling incoherently, bumping into chairs, and causing a scene.

“Perfect timing,” you muttered under your breath.

Clara groaned. "Here we go."

You both rushed over to try and calm him down. He was clearly in no state to be reasoned with, slurring his words and swaying dangerously as he tried to grab hold of another patient’s wheelchair.

“Sir, you need to sit down,” you said, holding up your hands in a calming gesture.

The man blinked at you, confused, then suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab your arm. Panic surged through you, but before he could make contact, a firm hand caught the drunk man's wrist.

"That's enough," a deep voice said from behind you.

You turned around, startled to see him—the man from the zoo. The one who borrowed your umbrella. He stood tall, his grip firm but not aggressive as he guided the drunk man back into a chair. The drunk patient, surprised by the sudden interference, mumbled something incoherent but didn’t resist.

Relief washed over you, and you let out a shaky breath. “Thanks. That could’ve gotten ugly.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s quiet here,” he said casually.

You quickly shook your head, eyes widening. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”

He chuckled at your reaction, then glanced down at your name tag. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

You blinked, feeling the warmth of his smile seep into you. "Nice to meet you too… Bucky."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar item—your umbrella. “Sorry I’m late returning this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”

You grinned, feeling a bit of your usual humor return. “Hey, as panda lovers, we have to help each other out, right?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Did I really just say that?

To your surprise, Bucky laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re right. We do.” Then, as if to return the favor for your kindness, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Actually, I have something for you.”

You furrowed your brows, confused, until you unfolded the paper. Your eyes widened in disbelief—it was a VIP ticket for a face-to-face panda experience, something you had only dreamed about.

“What? How did you get this?” you asked, astonished.

Bucky smiled, a little mischievously. “I’ve got some connections.”

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Bucky waved and left the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight, Clara whistled softly behind you.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is someone making panda dates now?”

You rolled your eyes, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "It’s not like that, Clara."

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure it’s all innocent.”

The next day, you found yourself back at the zoo, clutching your VIP ticket nervously. And there he was again—Bucky, standing near the entrance, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he greeted you with that same easy smile.

“Hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. The two of you walked together into the building, and soon, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived: you were face to face with the baby panda.

Both of you were silent as the tiny creature waddled toward you. The panda was as adorable as you had imagined, its soft fur and curious little eyes making your heart melt. Bucky stood next to you, just as captivated. When the panda let out a small squeak, you both exchanged a glance, wide-eyed, before grinning like kids.

As you held the baby panda for a brief moment, you felt all the exhaustion from your long shifts melt away. It was like a small pocket of happiness you hadn’t realized you needed. You could hear Bucky chuckling softly beside you, clearly sharing the same sentiment.

“Why pandas?” he asked softly after a while, turning to look at you.

You shrugged, smiling. “They’re just… calming. Whenever I’m tired from the hospital or life, looking at them helps. It’s like all the stress just melts away.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still on the baby panda. “I get it. My job is… well, it’s tiring. Dangerous too. But seeing animals like this, being cuddled, living peacefully—it helps. Makes me feel like there’s still good out there.”

You glanced at him curiously, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Sounds like a tough job,” you said carefully.

Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… it can be.”

It's his turn to hold and cuddle the baby panda, and the sight is nothing short of heartwarming. The little creature, with its round face and soft, fuzzy coat, snuggles into his arms as he cradles it gently. Bucky’s eyes light up with a mix of joy and awe, his broad smile breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates with warmth, as the panda nuzzles against his chest, completely at ease.

There’s a brief pause, the kind that feels heavy with something unsaid, as he shifts his gaze from the panda to you. The moment stretches out, filled with unspoken tension.

Then, suddenly, he turns toward you, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression. “You know… if you’re not busy sometime, maybe we could grab a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?” His cheeks flush slightly, as if he’s unsure how his invitation will be received, but the sincerity in his eyes reveals his hopefulness.

Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness behind it, which made it all the more endearing.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that.”

His face lit up, the awkward tension lifting. “Great,” he said, looking almost relieved. “I’ll, uh, message you then?”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the beginnings of a connection you hadn’t expected. “I’d like that a lot.”

🐼🐼🐼🐼

Your relationship with Bucky started innocently enough, bonding over your shared love for pandas and animals. What began as casual conversations about your common interests slowly grew deeper. The two of you spent more time together, texting throughout the day, meeting for coffee, or watching movies late into the night. It wasn’t long before you started spending nights at each other’s places. The closeness felt natural, and his easygoing demeanor made you feel safe.

Clara, of course, couldn’t resist teasing you about it. One evening during a shift, she shot you a knowing look. “You know,” she began with a smirk, “you should introduce him to your family. I bet his shadow alone could shut them up.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "One step at a time, Clara. I don't want him to run away after meeting my family."

Over time, your relationship with Bucky deepened, and intimacy followed. You spent nights at his apartment, and he did the same at yours. The affection between you two was comfortable and warm. Bucky worked as a contractor, which sometimes took him out of town for a while. That’s why, one day, he handed you the key to his apartment with a smile.

“Keep it,” he said. “Just in case you need to check on Alpine.”

Alpine was his cat, a fluffy white ball of fur who quickly won your heart. You adored her, and it was easy to see why Bucky did too.

One day, on your day off, you decided to spend the afternoon at Bucky’s place. It was quiet and cozy, perfect for unwinding after a long week. His salary as a contractor must be high enough that he can afford this house.

Alpine was curled up on your lap as you sat on the couch, absentmindedly stroking her soft fur. The gentle purrs coming from her were soothing.

Suddenly, Alpine’s ears perked up, and before you knew it, she jumped from your lap and padded over to the bookshelf. You watched curiously as she stretched her paws toward one of the shelves.

“What are you up to, little one?” you murmured, getting up to see what had caught her attention. As you reached out to move a book, you heard a soft click. Before you could react, the bookshelf started to shift, revealing a hidden door.

Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, but when Alpine darted through the opening, you knew you couldn’t just leave her. Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside.

The room you entered was nothing like the cozy, homey apartment you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you. Guns lined the walls, various types of explosives were neatly arranged on shelves, and papers filled with detailed information were pinned to a whiteboard. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie—except it wasn’t a movie. It was real.

“When I finally make a move, turns out the man I like is a killer,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you picked up Alpine and quickly backed out of the room. You closed the secret door, your mind racing.

What do I do now?

You paced back and forth in the living room, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts spiraled as you tried to process what you had just seen. Finally, in a panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed Clara.

After a couple of rings, her voice came through, light and cheery. “Yo, girls, what’s up?”

You swallowed hard, still clutching Alpine close to you. “Clara…”

“Yeah?” Her tone shifted slightly, sensing something was off.

You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky as you held Alpine close to your chest, “I think my boyfriend is a hitman."

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff

Extras:

[littlemissmaples]

🎂PICK A CAKE!🎂 II Who is your fs? + General Messages ( this second part wasn't intentional, kinda just happened lol)

Pile 1: 💚

• Your fs is very, very, very "segsy" I hear, haha (I was asked to spell it that way) they're giving me this very calming energy about them. They say "that's my mind baby" they're very flirtatious and could either be black, mixed or middle eastern, perhaps Arabic. This is more of my ethnic pile. I do sense there's the chance one of them has a beard–

Ooooh wait, one of them? Is there 2? Here I'm getting more of a masculine energy here so could it be you're not sure who your fs is and you're just debating what it is that you want? That's alright. I don't think that you're battling between 2 people, I think you're battling between 2 versions of yourself and 2 different ideals. What it is that you want and you think that you need. Or perhaps you might have a misunderstanding of what the kind of guy you want is. I'm getting some of you are in a relationship right now and you feel like things just don't connect. "You're a princess" for some of you, your father treats you well, listen to them because it's true when they say that you deserve better. Or perhaps you're involved in an arranged marriage, I feel that you still have the chance to step away from this it doesn't matter how far along you've been in this game, speak up now or forever hold your peace...

Anyways, I feel that your type is "the bad guy" maybe you like older guys or you currently like an older guy. If not I'm getting some of you, the person that you like is your fs but you're too stuck in your mind, waiting to be saved to realize it, that they're more than happy to develop something with you but while you dont have to take the lead, it's important to take the initiative and let yourself be known, let yourself say that you're interested, it's okay to let yourself be "saved" and pulled away from all of this but only if you tell them, otherwise they're going to keep on sitting back on their motorbike, completely unaware of your feelings. For a lot of you, you already know this person but they havent realized their feelings yet. Spark that initial light and set it all ablaze, they'll follow along and take care of the rest. But you have to communicate, they assume their silence is "self-respect" and they dont see you as a damsel in distress, reflect for sometime and see how you would like to go about all of this.

But in short terms who is your fs??

A guy that you already know that is somehow always on your mind even if you dont think about him much or hold heavy romantic feelings for him at the moment.

But just know this If you need it, he wants me to tell you: "I think about you too." For some of you "I think about THAT" too" perhaps a moment happened between the both of you. Be attentive and careful yes, but ultimately, at the end of this game we call life we all die. So follow your heart, choose your own path and cause a little chaos if you have to. But most of all, make sure you have fun 💛

I'm sorry if I didnt answer your question, but this is what's coming in.

Pile 2: 🧡

• Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Wow! Jeez, your first impression of this guy is going to be bizarre is not jaw dropping. They almost feel like they're a celebrity! If they're not a celebrity I feel like they're like a celebrity-look-a-like, they have a very similar face, tone of voice, even a matter of walking as someone that you like. This might be a singer/song-writter, actor for some or even a YouTube. I'm getting they might be in college and they could be white, I keep seeing Timothee Chalamet in my head but I'm getting he's more of a Tom Holland kind of guy, while your fs looks exactly how you want, he is a little bit more of the masculine kind. And for those of you who are a masc energy reading this I get the sense that, much like my fem readers I get the feeling maybe some of you actually want that "spiderman" type of love or a Tom Holland and Zendaya kind of scene about the two of you. I feel like you might, but I'm also getting that you need to not let yourself fall in a daydream too much, not because you wont have this but because you shouldn't reduce your partners and future romantic relationships into just this. I get the feeling that for some of you, your fs isn't who or how you think they are but they have traits of how believe they could be and what it is that you envision them like. But you should be flexible with this, just a little bit, I promise you'll have your dream come true but for many of you, he may sound a bit "manlier" perhaps you wanted him to have softer, more delicate features and he does but those traits dont encapsulate him entirely and for my fems, perhaps she may not be as tall as you like and maybe she might not hold traits like Zendaya but she's definitely gonna be your type. This energy Is just now coming in but some of you may be lgbt, have many types or simply are poly. That's great! But the same messages apply to you, you'll have your dream! You can have your cake and eat it too! But you have to step back for a minute and reflect for something, who are you? What kind of life do you want? Who do you want to be with? Why? Why not? I'm not saying tear yourself into parts but I'm really getting some of you ( I'm hearing "us" some of you dont separate yourselves from a group and see yourselves as individual persons in society and instead as a "unit" while is great, you are more than that) succumb yourselves to a lot of subcultures or reality just societal ideals of what you believe your life should look like. Take inspiration and make your own life worth living and stop looking at everybody else's as the "perfect guide book" to follow. There is no perfect anything and it's incredibly harmful to yourself and others to believe that there is, you dont know why people are the way they are or what happens behind closed doors. Follow your own path and make something beautiful out of you, even if it resembles somebody else's or looks completely different. Some of you need to come out the closet, haha, (once you feel safe and comfortable to do so of course). I'm been pulling in many directions in this pile so I'm going to cut it here. Know that you are okay and that the path you seek will find you but you need to let yourself realize that you're a unique individual with a mind of their own, let yourself have fun on the path that you walk on and choose if you want this one or not. You can get on an off of it as many times as you want and even choose a new one as many times as you like.

In short words, who is your fs? For some of you, you dont want a future spouse, you just want a life partner and a friend a you will find that, you will find the people who match you and fall into the right place. – For others of you, know that your future spouse is currently looking for you and they are exactly as you envision, if not better. The only thing about them is that you might have a couple traits off such as their nose or skin tone and perhaps ethnicity. They might have some "imperfections" as well that you might not think of, maybe they have braces and for some of you I'm hearing "knee surgery" so it's likely one of them has had an injury and either has a scar they're worried about or they have a slight subtle awkwardness to their walk. Dont worry so much about this, some of you overthink about these imperfections and for many of you I'm getting they're not even there and you're just anxious, I promise you'll be okay, haha. The universe knows your heart and it is good and full of love and that love will go into the right hands. You'll be alright, now go rest your pretty head, some of yall have been up all night 💤💤

Pile 3: 💜

• Wow. I cant even tap into your energy, I just tapped immediately into theirs. This personal is serious, this person means BUSINESS maybe even HAVE a business. They're not playing, they seriously want a commitment. I'm getting that they're a "hot mess" but they may just be very passionate. Much like pile 1 this personal may be black, if male brown skin, tall, tall, tall~ and very endearing gentle eyes. If she's a woman then by LORD she's gorgeous, likely darkskin, clear skin, lip gloss and possibly Christian, she takes her faith very seriously but as serious as she may be or come off she's actually so silly and goofy and just the sweetest soul to have around. She wont play about you. This won't apply to all of you but for some of you this person might be mixed and freckled or a red head, possibly a July Leo (or this might just be you) though this is for a few of you so take only what resonates. Your fs is very well read and well spoken, they're very educated although I'm getting for some of them they never went to college, for a few of you though they already have their masters or are on their way of getting it. They might have a similar background to you and or have the same political beliefs. Honestly what I'm getting from this is almost like a "background check" kind of vibe haha, they're like handing me a clip board and having me be your middle man and "vet" for them, I feel like you might be "hard to approach" or you dont just let ANYBODY in your energy like that, you dont just give anyone YOUR time of day and they're aware of that so they're not playing ANY games and getting straight to it and letting you know straight away why they are a great candidate for being your one and only partner. Although I am getting that they are kind of "flawed", not flawed as in bad but flawed as in, they come off as perfect but I believe you may somehow see through it, that while they are very confident and self sufficient and honestly, very, very, very remarkable, reliable and most of all loyal and dependable, they genuinely are a great catch..while you know all this you also know how they seem to be missing a piece of themselves, theres a loneliness in this and it's very gentle, very tender and childlike. They're very mature but ultimately, they just want love. They want love at it's rawest, purest form, they want to be infatuated with you, by you, lost in you, they want to crave you and admire you and receive at least fraction of that same love as well if possible. They're are a hopeless romantic and altho they may not show it at first I feel like you'll get that first wall to crumble without much effort, the rest of it will simply just dissolve the moment you're finally with them. This person wants something serious and if it applies for some of you even marriage and children or both. But even if you dont want this, it doesn't matter because they only see you and not a check list of things to cross out. They want to share something true with you and see how it blossoms into something beautiful.

This one has heavyyyyy 18+ messages in them, it was hard to hold back from typing them but for a lot of you before you go off doing the do with this person know that they are INTOXICATINGGGGG and soooooooo irresistible and they treat you sooooo so good so WRAP IT UP!!! BECAUSE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE VERY MATCHING ENERGIES AND ARE VERY VERY FERTILE SO IF YOURE NOT USING SOME KIND OF CONTRACEPTION (birth control, condom etc) YOU  W I L L  HAVE BABIES!!! 🍼👶🍼👶😭😭

Safe sex = Great sex, take care now✌

(I'm being so serious, wrap it up, some of yall dont listen, I get the heat of the moment might be fun or take you in but babies are a serious 18 year long commitment and if you're not ready for that please don't be hard headed and keep you and your partner safe. Thanks!! That's all bye! 💛💛💛)

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Older

This is for the @6esiree contest that they are holding! I hope you enjoy it, and even if it doesn't perform well, I am glad to have made something long! Word Count 3.5k Alastor x Gen Z Reader Based on Song Older by Isabel LaRosa TW: Sexual content, stubbornness, gen gap, age gap, tentacles, begging

Dying wasn’t the first thing on your list of exciting things to do. I mean, yes, you were a 23-year-old living in 2024, so of course, your will to live was low, but that didn’t mean you were ready for it when it happened. No, instead, death came hard and fast, all because you had some serious FOMO and a quite pitiful YOLO moment. 

One minute, you were having a great night out with friends, you had a handsome silver fox wrapped around your finger, and then the next thing, you woke to a red landscape of what you only assumed was hell. With your life, it made sense why ‘Hell’ was where you ended up. You died partying and sleeping with the older man, so it only made sense that this was where you would consequently end up. 

A deep sigh left you as you looked at the chaos around you. The only good thing you saw so far out of this event was that you didn’t have bills to pay anymore. It looked like as long as you played your cards right, you could get anything here without needing money. As that thought crossed your mind, an ad for redeeming sinners played on a nearby radio. 

The voice on the radio was alluring as all hell and had you questioning your life and undead choices. Not even five minutes into being dead, and you are already fawning over an older man's voice. It's good to know that living habits don’t die with you in the afterlife. 

Your resolve not shaken, you make your way to where the voice spoke of the Hazbin Hotel and find yourself at the base of a hill, looking up at a grand building with flashing lights. A shiver runs up your spine as you realize how powerful whoever runs this place must be. Maybe pretending to want to be saved would be well worth your time, then. 

Let’s get one thing straight here: you are no damsel; you may like your men older, but that doesn’t mean you need one. No, you are an independent queen who can do what she pleases. She just also realizes when to fold and when to hold her hand. Right now, seeking refuge from the fires and sex work was worth it; however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t earn your keep all the same. 

While you thought about these prospects and made your way up to the door, you noticed it was open without you even having to knock. Pushing your head through more of the door, it was clear to see what type of establishment this was…a chaotic one. 

Just standing in the entryway, the sights before you were hilarious and intriguing. A cat at the bar grumbled as he watched a spider dance on the bar. A young lady resembling a lamb hurriedly tried to stop the provocative dancing while a gray woman yelled at the spider. A cyclops laughed hysterically while tossing what you could only imagine was a bomb. A small woman rushed around laughing and stabbing the air while a man who looked a little like the lamb girl walked through the room. 

The deer caught your eye the most, though, and it seemed you caught his, too, as he was the only one looking at you and your entrance. You two held eye contact, a shiver running up your spine. Oh, you definitely could get used to staying here. 

Nodding more to yourself than the deer man, you walked in further and cleared your throat, everyone stopping to look at you. With a slight wave, you smiled brightly and introduced yourself.  “Heya, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya,”

The room was silent, causing you to laugh awkwardly. As you slowly backed away, thinking maybe this wasn’t a great idea, the lamb girl came over and jumped on you. Holding your arms and bouncing, she spoke excitedly. 

“Oh my goodness, a new arrival! Hi, my name is Charlie. I am the hotel's owner,” She beamed proudly at the statement and motioned to the others all in the lobby area of the room, “And this is the Hazbin Hotel residents and staff! The cat is Husk, then Angel Dust, Vaggie, Cherri, Nifty, my father,” She leaned in and whispered, “Also known as Lucifer,” 

Laughing at your surprised face, she pointed to the deer man last. “This is Alastor. He is the hotelier; he helps me run the hotel! Was it his broadcast that brought you in?”

You shook your head at the information overload and laughed softly. Nodding to the question, you looked at everyone around. “Yes, I actually passed not too long ago, and as I was weighing my options on where to go, I heard the message on the radio.” 

Charlie beamed proudly at Alastor, who just smiled at you precisely as he had been this entire time. You couldn’t lie. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He was tall and fit, and if his voice sounded anything like how it did on the radio, you would be a goner for sure. He was an enigma and one you knew you had to be careful of if you wanted to make it out of this hotel with your head screwed on straight. 

“My my, I am quite honored my radio show was able to bring in a petal quite like yourself, dear,” He spoke so smoothly, and you knew right then how right you were; you were a goner. “I do hope you are staying here with us to be redeemed as Miss Charlotte wishes; I am eager to learn…more about you, miss Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding. Looking at the others, you laughed and began some small talk while they decided where would be the best place to put you. The conversations ranged from how everyone died to how people got here, and you learned more about how hell worked. Learning that Alastor owned many souls only made him more appealing and dangerous. 

As Charlie led you to your room, she made sure to inform you of the dangers of getting mixed up with Alastor. Being mindful of her warnings and the blaring alarms in your head that did not match the alarms between your legs, you made it a goal to avoid falling for Alastor at all costs. Oh, how wrong you were for that. 

Alastor had his eyes on you the minute he felt your presence near the hotel. You were unlike any other woman he had seen. You looked young and still full of life, so how could someone like you have died so carelessly? Not to mention, he did find you oddly attractive, and your calm demeanor was refreshing. He wanted you and in more ways than just your soul.

He knew the best way to any woman's heart was to court her and get her to fall for him slowly till she needed him and him alone. However, you were a tricky one to get under the skin of. You were so damn stubborn and stuck in your ways of being the lead in your own life that allowing him any control seemed futile. However, the challenge you possessed was all the more thrilling to him. 

It started off simple: He escorted you around the hotel. He wanted to lead you around like a gentleman, but you had your own plans. As he talked and explained a specific part of the hotel, your attention was elsewhere in your explorations. 

“Y/N, dearest, are you even paying attention?” he asked you sharply as you looked at the paintings for the millionth time since your arrival. You really wanted to listen to him, but this was kind of boring. After becoming close with the others, you were eager to hear more about their lives than be trapped with the man you swore not to sleep within this proximity to you. 

“Sorry, Alastor. Yes, I am listening. I was just wondering about some of the paintings; they are quite pretty.” You were honest, at least in the fact that you enjoyed the paintings. Someone had a knack for art, and you were not shy to admit it. However, when you soon learned it was he who chose all the art minus a handful, you quickly shut down your praise. 

The next time Alastor tried to win you over and claim your soul was when he began opening doors for you. He never thought the day would come when he saw someone challenge him so brazenly. However, that was probably the day he fell in love with you, as he allowed it to happen.

“Uh…Alastor, what are you doing?” You looked at the opened door with your arms crossed, your body still midstep from when he raced ahead to open the door. 

“I am being a gentleman, Miss Y/N, that is all.” He looked so innocent, but you had heard more stories and learned so much about him from the shadows. He was no innocent man but a cold-blooded killer. You wouldn’t lie, though, that his past and present only made you that more attracted to the idea of him. You wanted him biblically, and it only made you hate his advances more, as you didn’t want to lose your soul. 

“No, thank you, Alastor. I can open my own doors.” You quickly took the door from him, closing it and reopening it before walking through. The look on Alastor's face was akin to pain and frustration. He was not a fan of your independent attitude and was willing to bet he could break you before the year ended. 

Alastor resorted to making sure you always walked on the right side of the road, that your chairs were pulled out for you, and that your food was pre-cut; he even went out of his way to acquire a simple ruby necklace for you to wear so others knew you were accounted for. However, you were stubborn and not taking on his advances. All you would give him was that Cheshire grin and stubbornly push his buttons by mimicking his chivalry with your version. 

When it came to Alastors courting skills and all his advances, you managed to turn them down in the same stubborn way. However, it didn’t go amiss by Alastor that each turn down went from cold and distant worry to more playful and light-hearted jests on your part. Was it possible you were falling for him, too? 

He admitted to himself a while ago, just as you had that the immediate attraction you two felt despite the age and generational gap was mutual. He didn’t know how to break you while you were too worried about becoming his next meal, even though the way he wanted to eat you was not how you were thinking. 

That was until one fateful day when the hotel was barren except you two. You had sat perched in the library reading some trashy romance novel, hoping to get yourself off while Alastor was busy with his work. Busy working till his shadow happened to inform him of what you were reading. 

The book you had chosen was interesting in that the main female lead was a time traveler who managed to end up in the olden times as a helpless damsel needing a strong man to care for her—the complete opposite of what you were as a person. However, you wouldn’t lie that the thought of letting Alastor take care of you wasn’t electrifying; it just went against everything you stood for. 

However, reading the book and getting to the more intense sex scenes where the woman is restrained and taken care of sexually only caused you to feel more of a heated desire for the man who had plagued your thoughts since you made eye contact with him all those months ago. Sighing deeply, you flipped to the next page and moaned softly at the words, wishing it to be you. You wondered how long your and Alastor’s game of cat and mouse would play out until one caved.

Alastor entered the room and looked over your shoulder. He was enamored with you rutting into your leg as you read the heated pages. He smirked as a tentacle wrapped around your throat and pulled your attention up from the book to his eyeline. “My dear, what do we seem to have here?” He practically purred, and you whimpered softly. 

You were already so close to release on your heel that you didn’t realize the pleas coming from your lips. You needed an older man badly; you needed Alastor—someone who would worship your body. As the pleas left your lips, it didn’t take long for Alastor to pounce on you, his pent-up desire for the independent brat growing. 

Alastor wasted no time and already had your sleep shorts pooled at your ankles,  ratty nightshirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. Your inner thighs were slick and glistening with arousal from your earlier menstruations while reading.

 Alastor hummed in amusement, bending you over the couch, his cold tentacles holding you in place as he moved down your back. His soft breaths tickled you as much as they excited you. He hummed as he saw your pussy in full view, a smile growing on his face. He touched it softly, slick coating his hand as he spoke, “My dear, you are already soaking; you were thinking about me, weren’t you? Thinking about me taking you just like that man does in that book.” He smiled wider, lining his face with your slick. “All you had to do was ask, beautiful.”

A tender hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the soft plush of the couch arm, his other hand grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where Alastor’s face is lapping at your dripping cunt. Soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp his head, fingers tangling through the soft red and black locks, being mindful of his ears. He only grunts in response as he continues his onslaught on your most sensitive area.

What felt like minutes and hours at the same time passed; your legs were trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar. Your quiet, strained cries did nothing but aid the tightness in Alastor’s dress pants, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond. Every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the fabric, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

Alastors noises vibrate against your cunt, shocking your overstimulated and oversensitive clit. All you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless and selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, you're begging for him to relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your core, and you writhe under his hands. The cold slick of his tentacles digs into your skin as he takes hold of your ankles and wrists now to keep you open. 

Everything becomes overstimulating as the world begins to spin. Your jaw goes slack, and saliva pools in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips. Tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy, and your eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

Alastor finally pulls his face away from the space he has claimed as his between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste gathering all of you he could. The tentacles held you tighter as he smirked and sat upright, admiring the mess he had made of you. A slick shimmer on his face as he licked his lips, “Delicious, better than any venison I have ever had, dove.”

As he stands up, his hand on your back pushes you back onto the couch arm. He kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him. His hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. A small yelp escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive area. Your frayed nerves against the soft material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases. 

You whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen quickly before he pulls away from your hips. His movements are hasty, and he does not waste any more time as he uses more tentacles to help not only hold your wiggling form but also get his clothes off him. He liked this sight of your half-dressed attire as he held purchase over you, dominance you refused till now to give up.

Once he was undressed, he bleated softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your willing slit. He groans at the tightness that welcomes him; the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of cum. 

Your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your sweet spot as you feel him abuse your need for him. You can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls; they're practically ingrained in you as your pussy is molded to take his dick.

A creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he pushes his length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches. He doesn't give you time to compose yourself. He's selfish tonight, unapologetically so, because you had been toying with him for too long. After almost a year of cat and mouse, this is finally how he takes you. You drove him mad.

It isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistoning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. His pace isn't lovely; he's mean, relentless, and bruising.

"Fuck sweetheart, so needy for me; you could have just told me how much you wanted this from the get-go. Saved us both precious time," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. Claws out, he uses his hands, kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid using your cunt.

He was growing more and more pussy-drunk, drool forming in his mouth and pooling in his permanent smile, leaning over to place his lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. He pressed lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the marks and bruises from his teeth as his demonic form began to take precedence.

With how hard he was holding on to you with his hands and tentacles, you were covered in bruises. He was marking you as his not only with chivalry and jewels but pretty marks that will mar your skin for weeks. He tightened his hold around your throat, pulling you up to a sitting position. He pumped into you harder, watching your stomach grow with his length in you. He groaned heatedly as he transformed more; his hand was pulling you up while his other hand began pushing down on the spot on your belly where he was poking through. 

As you both whined and felt relief, he growled in your ear, “I will make you all mine, my Doe. Not a single person can have you now.” He pushed harder for a few more pumps before you two were spilling over one another. He filled you to the brim, his seed spilling out before he could even pull out of you. With a satisfied hum, he let his body slowly return to normal as he slid out. 

You were fucked out beyond belief. He smiled, gently picking you up and placing your clothes back on you. He held you in his arms and sighed, acting as if he didn’t just release eons of pent-up sexual tension on you. He snapped his fingers, redressing, and walked with you in his arms to his chambers. There, he would repeatedly remind you who you now truly belong to. Soul or not, he was the one to dominate the disobedient brat you were.

[unstable-samurai]

ON REFLECTION

Naoi Rei x Male Reader

word count: 7K

The room's light struggles to reach the dark corners of the apartment as you sink into the couch, tired and a little lost. The TV is off, but the screen reflects distorted fragments of you and Rei, who sits in the opposite armchair. She’s sitting cross-legged, and the expression on her face is hard to decipher. The Hello Kitty pajamas don’t match the look she’s giving you. You've known Rei since high school, and now you've been roommates for two years, and in that time, you've seen every nuance of her emotions. But today, she seems different. She watches your fingers toy with the remote. Your head buzzing—maybe from lack of sleep, or perhaps the confusion that has become your life these past few days. Either way, the silence between you both grows heavy, and it eventually becomes unbearable.

"I'm leaving for a few days," you finally say, your voice low, dragging, almost as if you’re testing the words on your tongue before letting them go. "I need to get out of here, out of the city. Go to a friend’s place."

She doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she runs a hand through her hair, playing with the ends as if pondering the best way to voice what’s on her mind.

"Let me guess: because of her, right?" Rei’s question is loaded with an implication you don’t want to face.

And then, she narrows her eyes... daring you to lie.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What do you mean?"

Rei scoffs, the sound half a laugh, half frustration. "You're going to leave me here alone?" She leans forward slightly, her hands now resting on her lap. "Are you abandoning everything just because she left you?" Her tone is direct, like she’s poking at an open wound, but you know Rei never sugarcoats her words.

"Rei, you've been alone before," you respond, trying not to sound insensitive, but realizing you failed the moment the words leave your mouth. "I… I just can’t take this place anymore. This apartment, the memories…"

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“The problem,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “is that you’re going to throw away everything we planned. You’re leaving our plans behind because of that bitch.” The word comes out sharp. There’s no hesitation, no trace of guilt or regret.

"Rei, it's not that simple." You feel the need to justify yourself, to explain what you don’t fully understand. "I… I just need some time, you know? Space to think."

"Space to think?" She repeats, as if it’s a bad joke. "Think about what? About how she treated you like garbage? How she made you feel small every time you did something she didn’t like?" Her tone and gaze burn in a way that makes you flinch. "Or maybe you want to think about how she hated when we spent time together? How she made you choose between... her and me..."

You remain silent, the weight of her words crushing any response you might have had.

"Rei…" you try to start, but she cuts you off again.

“No! Now you're going to listen to me!”

She rises from the armchair, the pink pajamas swaying with the movement, and walks toward you with determined steps. “We planned to watch all the Halloween movies, remember? And it wasn’t my idea. I hate horror movies, but I was going to watch them because you wanted to. And now you’re telling me you’re not in the mood?” She stops in front of you, crossing her arms, her expression a mix of anger and hurt.

“Rei, it’s not about you, it’s about… everything.” The words seem insufficient, hollow, as if they can’t capture the chaos in your mind. “I just… need to get away for a while.”

She takes a deep breath, her hands now clenched into fists at her sides.

“You’re really blind, you know that?” she says, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “I’ve been right here. I’ve always been here.”

You watch her, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “What do you mean by that?”

Rei doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lets her arms fall and, in a fluid motion, sits on your lap, so close you can feel the warmth of her body, her scent— that soft vanilla fragrance that always seems to follow her.

“I’m saying,” she begins, her hands now gently holding your face, “that you’ve never really seen me. Never noticed what I feel for you. And it seems that even now, you still don’t.”

You feel your heart race, as if you’re running a marathon without moving. “Rei, I…”

“Shh,” she interrupts, her finger touching your lips. “You don’t need to say anything. Just listen to me, okay?” She sighs. “I’ve always been here. Always. Since day one. I’ve taken care of you, helped you get back up every time she knocked you down. And I did it because… because I love you.”

The last word hangs in the air, heavy and inescapable. You feel like the ground has disappeared, like you’re falling endlessly into an abyss of uncertainties and emotions you didn’t know existed.

Rei continues, ignoring the shock on your face. “I know this might seem sudden, but… it’s not. I’ve always felt this way. I was just waiting for you to notice. But it seems you’re too blind for that.”

She leans in, your faces so close you can feel her breath against your lips. “I don’t want to be your friend, never did. I want to be more than that. I want you. And I’m not going to let you run away from me now, not after everything.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you. It’s not a gentle or hesitant kiss. It’s a kiss full of need, of desire, of years of repressed feelings finally released. And you kiss her back, because deep down, you know she’s right.

When the kiss finally ends, you both sit there in silence, just breathing, absorbing what just happened. Rei rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed, more vulnerable than ever.

“Now do you see?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Because for the first time in a long time, everything makes sense.

Memories come in waves, thick and suffocating like the warm air in the apartment that winter. It’s as if the memories from that week have been waiting for this moment to surface, forcing you to face what you’ve tried to hide for so long.

You remember when Rei got sick, a fever that seemed to burn through her, leaving her fragile and trembling. The flu came out of nowhere, turning her into a weakened version of herself, someone you almost didn’t recognize, except for the look she gave you, that spark that never completely faded, no matter how much her body was suffering.

You walked into the room that first night, the tray in your hands trembling slightly. Ginger tea with honey. Toast, because she couldn’t eat much more than that. She was curled up in a heap of blankets, the Hello Kitty pajamas that always made her seem childlike now seemed like a useless armor against the illness. You placed the tray on the bedside table and sat beside her, the mattress sinking under your weight.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked, knowing the answer would be the same as always.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” she muttered, her voice raspy and trembling. She could barely keep her eyes open, but she forced herself to smile at you, because that’s what Rei did. Even when she was broken, she tried to make you feel better.

“Well, at least you’re still beautiful,” you said, trying to get a laugh out of her like you always did. You reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, your touch soft, almost reverent.

She rolled her eyes, but the smile widened a bit. “Stop it. I look like crap and you know it.”

“No, seriously. You’re like… the sick version of Hello Kitty. The cutest, the prettiest.” You smiled, and she finally let out a weak laugh, a sound faint but full of life.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was tenderness in her voice.

During that week, daily routines became rituals between you two. Mornings were for medication and warm soups, afternoons for tea and old movies she couldn’t watch to the end without falling asleep. But the nights… the nights were different. They were the moments when everything seemed to slow down, and it was just you and Rei, together in the darkness, talking openly about anything, trying to forget she was sick, trying to make her feel normal.

“When you get better,” you said one night, as she lay on her side, looking at you with those big, tired eyes, “I’ll cook whatever you want. Anything.”

“Anything?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Even sick, she couldn’t resist a challenge.

“Yeah. As long as it’s something I can make without burning down the kitchen,” you replied.

“Then I want… the best pasta you’ve ever made in your life,” she said, her lips curling into a smile.

“Pasta?” you repeated, as if she had just asked for something exotic.

“Yes, pasta. But it has to be special. I don’t know how, but I trust you to figure it out.” She looked at you with a confidence that made your heart ache. As if she knew you would do anything to see her smile again.

You remember how, that week, the apartment seemed to exist in its own universe. The world outside kept spinning, but in here, it was just you and Rei. You remember staying up late, listening to her breathing, holding her hot, feverish hand, waiting for the fever to finally break.

There was a moment, on one of the hardest nights, when you really thought she might get worse. The fever was high, and she was delirious, mumbling incoherent words. You held her hand, squeezing it tight, as if that could anchor her back to reality.

"Hey, I'm here," you said, your voice firm, trying not to let your anxiety spill over. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with confusion and pain, and for the first time that week, you saw fear there. Not the fear of dying, but the fear of losing something, of losing you.

"Don't leave me," she whispered, and the vulnerability in her voice broke you in a way nothing else could.

"I'll never leave you," you replied, and in that moment, you realized how true that was.

These memories blend with the present as Rei sits on your lap, her eyes on yours, waiting for you to finally understand what she's trying to tell you. She has always been here, by your side, taking care of you, just as you took care of her. And now, with her so close, you finally understand what has always been right in front of you. The world around you seems to shrink until there's nothing left but the couch, the soft glow of the room, and the warmth of Rei's body on your lap. Time slows down, each second stretching to the point of almost breaking. Her breathing, light and steady, echoes in your ears like a persistent whisper, mixed with the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Your eyes meet, and you realize there's nowhere left to run.

Rei doesn't move. She doesn't try to force anything, just watches you, as if waiting for something. Maybe for an answer. Maybe for a sign that you've finally understood.

"What are you going to do now? Ignore this... or face it?"

There's a part of you that wants to retreat, but something stronger, something that pulls you forward. Unconsciously, your fingers move to her waist, finding the soft skin beneath the thin fabric of her pajamas.

Rei closes her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the moment, and you feel her body relax under your touch. When she opens her eyes again, there's a sparkle there, something you've never seen before. "I love it when you touch me," she says, and there's a smile on her lips, a smile that is both a statement and a confession. "I've always loved it."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the reality of the moment finally starting to take root in you. But before you can process it, she continues, the words coming out fast, as if they've been held back for too long.

"And of course, she knew." Rei's voice is now harsher, carrying a brutal frankness. "Your ex-girlfriend, that bitch. She always knew. That's why she never liked me. Because she knew that at some point, I would take you from her. Because you were always mine, even when you didn't realize it."

You remember all the times your ex-girlfriend made passive-aggressive comments about Rei, the thinly veiled jabs, the looks of disdain. It all makes sense now, as if a piece of the puzzle has finally fallen into place. Rei leans in a little closer, her face now inches from yours. "She knew that deep down, you didn't want her. She knew you were with me the whole time, even when you were by her side. And she knew I was waiting for the right moment."

You try to say something, but the words get lost before they reach your mouth. All you can do is hold Rei a little tighter, feeling her warmth against your body, the sweet fragrance of vanilla lotion mixed with the scent of her hair.

"And now," Rei says, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "the choice is yours. I'm here. I've always been. The question is... will you finally accept my love? Or will you keep pretending you don't feel the same?"

You know there's no turning back. Not after this.

You lean in, your lips almost touching hers, and the decision has already been made before you even realize it. Because finally, you understand. All you need to do is allow yourself to feel.

"I never wanted her," you finally admit, your voice rough, as if the words had been trapped for too long. "I just didn't know that... I always wanted you."

Rei smiles, a smile that lights up the room, and before you can say anything else, she kisses you. And in that kiss, there are all the answers you've been looking for.

Because deep down, you always knew she was yours. And that you were hers.

When your lips part, you say, "Forgive my indecision, Rei."

She smiles.

"Already forgiven, silly."

So this is the moment of truth. Everything is falling apart around you, and the only thing left is this girl, Rei, looking at you with hungry eyes. She’s already made it clear that she wanted you, that she wants you. Always has. Your ex-girlfriend is just a detail now. And at this moment, it's as if every mistake, every wrong choice, was necessary to get here, with her, at the exact moment when the stars collide.

Rei is on your lap, where she’s always belonged. You kiss like you're drowning, each kiss a rescue from a lost past, and she keeps whispering between kisses, "Kiss me," "Kiss me more," as if it’s never enough, as if your lips still can’t reach what she really wants. The sound of her breath, heavy and fast, is like music, and all you want is to get lost in it, to drown in the innocence of this moment. And when you finally stop to breathe, that's when you really see her. There, so close, the adorable face, lips shining with saliva, dressed in that cute pajama that makes her look innocent. As if this were some kind of final test to see if you can resist what she’s become: the perfect girl.

"Make me yours," she asks, her voice a murmur between kisses. Every word carries a need that goes beyond the physical. It's as if she’s offering her soul, and you feel the weight of it, the gravity of this moment. It’s not just sex. It's so much more. It's mutual possession.

"You will be mine," you respond, and it’s a declaration of dominance, that you’ll have her in every way, that she will be yours and you hers, without reservations, without fear.

You feel your cock hardening, pressing against her. Rei notices, of course. She leans close to your ear, that warm breath against your skin, and confesses, whispers, with a malice that makes your blood boil, a malice that makes your heart race.

"I used to ride my pillow, imagining it was your cock." The image she paints in your mind is raw, almost cruel, because now all you want is to feel her fantasy become reality.

That’s all you needed to hear. She asks in a whining, almost childish voice if you’re going to fuck her, and you answer without any hesitation, "I will." The voice coming out of you isn’t just a reflection of arousal, it’s a promise. One you intend to fulfill with every fiber of your being.

You move to the bed, stumbling between laughter and kisses, the bodies colliding awkwardly but filled with a vital need. As you strip off your clothes, throwing everything to the floor like the world is ending, she looks at you with those eyes, almost asking for permission to be adorable. And there’s no way to resist that silent plea, that look that mixes innocence and lust in a perfect combination.

"Do you want me to keep this pajama on while you fuck me?" she asks, biting her lower lip. "Don't I look cute in it?" It's both a tease and a plea for you to want her even more. And it works.

You can only agree. "Very." The words come out almost as a moan, because at that moment, you know there’s nothing sexier than this mix of purity and perversion, this contrast that is Rei.

And then, without more words, she asks to see your cock. When you take off your underwear, the last barrier between you, her eyes widen, impressed.

"Wow..." She whispers with a mix of admiration and desire, as if she’s seeing something she’s dreamed of for so long finally become reality.

You sit on the bed and Rei kneels in front of you with the same devotion as someone kneeling for prayer. The entire room seems to shrink, every noise from the outside world suffocated by the sound of your quickened breath. She wraps her small hands around your cock, almost as if she’s holding something sacred, something she can’t rush. She drags her palm slowly along the length, exploring every vein, every contour, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail.

Her eyes are fixed on yours, a gaze that’s both sweet and wicked, an intoxicating mix that leaves you completely at her mercy. She smiles a wicked smile before tilting her head and brushing her face against your cock, as if familiarizing herself with the texture, the warmth, the weight. She’s in no hurry, and it drives you crazy. She knows what she’s doing, and you know she’s in control.

She starts with small kisses on the tip, soft, almost chaste, but each touch is charged with a sexual tension that makes you want to grab her hair and push her deeper. But you hold back. This is part of her game, and you don’t want to spoil it. She opens her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue slide slowly and provocatively along the slit at the head, her eyes never leaving yours. It's a deliberate act, one that makes every muscle in your body tense with desire.

She licks around the head of your cock, her tongue moving in lazy circles, spreading saliva until it's glistening and slippery. “I’ve always wondered what your cock feels like, always wanted to know what it tastes like…”

Rei slides her mouth down the length, taking you as deep as she can, and the warmth of her throat envelops you in a wet, pulsing grip. She holds you there for a moment, her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of having you so deep, so completely at her mercy. When she begins to move, it’s slow, dragging her lips along your cock while her hands come down to massage your balls, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that pulls a low, husky moan from your throat.

She alternates between sucking and licking, her mouth wetting your entire length, creating a rhythm that is as erotic as it is torturous. She lets go of your cock for a second, only to lick your balls, one at a time, sucking them gently while her hand continues to slide up and down your erection.

“I want to hear you moan for me… Yeah, just like that… I love it when you moan like that…”

When she takes you into her mouth again, it’s with more pressure, like she’s hungry for more, like she needs to consume you entirely. The sound of her sucking is obscene, wet, the noise of saliva mixing with the sound of her heavy breathing. She sucks harder, the pressure increasing, each movement faster, more urgent. You can feel the heat building in the pit of your stomach, the pressure mounting as she continues, taking you deeper, moving faster.

“Fuck, Rei… you do that so well…” you manage to murmur, your voice fractured by pleasure. She responds with a muffled moan, a sound that vibrates around your cock and makes your whole body shudder. She speeds up, her gaze locked on yours, eyes gleaming with a mix of pleasure and challenge, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you and loves every second of it.

Finally, when she feels you’re on the brink of losing control, she slows down, releasing your cock from her mouth, but not before giving one last suck, hard enough to make your eyes roll back. She looks at you, her lips red and glistening with saliva, a thin string connecting the tip of her tongue to the head of your cock.

“I could do this all night… just to hear you moan more for me.”

She moans around your cock, the sounds vibrating through your body, each movement of her tongue sending waves of pleasure that make your muscles clench. “The taste of your cock is so, so good… way better than I imagined.” She whispers between sucks, looking at you with eyes so full of lust they seem ready to explode.

Rei stops, stands up, and you're still seated on the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, she slides her hands down your chest, her nails lightly scratching the warm skin, before slowly turning around, her slender and delicate body moving with a grace unique to her.

Rei is facing away from you now, and you have the perfect view of the soft, provocative curves that drive you crazy. She positions one leg on either side of your thighs, and with one hand she pulls aside the thin fabric of her shorts, revealing the wet glisten of her pussy, while the other hand grips the base of your cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. She lowers herself slowly, the head of your cock brushing against her tight entrance, while a sigh escapes Rei's lips. She doesn’t rush; every inch is a small torture that makes you grip the bed sheets tightly, as if you need something to anchor you to reality.

When she finally sits on your cock completely, taking you all in, the sensation of being inside her, feeling the heat, the wetness, the pressure, is incredible. Rei begins to move slowly, rising and falling in a deliberate, calculated rhythm, each movement designed to give you agonizing pleasure, as if she’s relishing in testing your endurance. Her hands grip your knees for support, and with each roll of her hips, she tilts in a way that makes you sink even deeper into her, each thrust ripping a muffled groan from your lips.

“That’s it, Rei… slow… I want to feel every second…” you murmur, your voice hoarse, almost a desperate plea to prolong the torture.

She tilts her head back and lets out a low moan, filled with pleasure. “Your cock feels so good… it goes so deep in my tight little pussy…” Her words are like gasoline on the already burning fire inside you. The rhythm gradually increases, her movements become faster, more desperate, as if she’s surrendering completely to the desire that’s consuming both of you. The sound of your skin slapping against hers, the wet sound of her pussy sucking your cock, fills the room with a dirty and delicious melody. She keeps riding you, her moans turning into short screams of pleasure.

You feel the need to take control of the pace, so you grip Rei’s waist firmly and pull her up, making her lift off your cock with a frustrated moan. She turns to you, surprised, but you’re already standing, rising with clear intent. Before she can react, you pull her towards you, turning her to face the wall. Her breathing quickens as she feels your body pressed against hers, your throbbing cock against her skin, and she instinctively arches, pushing her ass out for you.

You position your cock at the entrance of her pussy again, wasting no time, and start fucking her standing up, thrusting hard, as if you want to mark every stroke. Rei lets out a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure, her hands bracing against the wall for balance as you fuck her. Your hips move in a furious rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, each time faster, as if you’re determined to bury yourself as deep as possible inside her.

“Is this what you wanted, Rei? My cock fucking you like this? Tell me…” you whisper in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Yes! Fuck, I wanted you fucking my tight little pussy…” she responds between moans, her voice trembling with the force of each thrust. “Fuck me harder… I want to feel you all… deep inside me…”

You grab her breasts through the fabric, squeezing them firmly, feeling the delicious weight in your hands as you continue to fuck her hard. Rei’s moans turn into screams, she throws her head back, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, her body arching as you keep pounding. The sensation of her pussy tightening around your cock, her internal muscles clenching in pure pleasure.

You pull her by the waist, feeling her tense muscles tremble under your grip, and guide her towards the bed. Rei quickly removes her shorts and gets on all fours, arching her back, showing off her dripping pussy, begging to be fucked. “Look at me… look at this pussy… it’s all yours… only yours… so fuck it, fuck it hard…” The sight alone is enough to make your head spin, your whole body screaming to take what’s yours.

Rei looks back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and submission. “Fuck me… I need you… now,” she moans, her voice almost a whisper, but the plea is as clear as a shout.

You position your cock at her entrance, sliding slowly through her warm, pulsing opening before burying it deep in one single motion. She lets out a high-pitched moan, almost a scream, and the sound echoes through the room. Your hips start moving on instinct, your hands gripping her waist tightly, controlling each thrust, each push that drives her forward and then pulls her back for more.

“Just like that… harder… I want to feel every inch…” Rei begs, her voice broken by the moans that escape with each thrust. Her fingers dig into the sheets, her body arching with every movement, and you obey, increasing the force, the speed, until the sound of your skin slapping against hers fills the room. Her body responds to every thrust, her pussy squeezing even tighter around your cock, as if trying to keep you inside, as if she never wants to let you go.

You feel the moment approaching, the peak of pleasure that’s so close yet seems unreachable. With a hoarse groan, you grab her arms, pulling them back, pinning her under you as you continue to fuck. Rei completely surrenders, her moans turning into screams, her muscles tightening, her breath hitching as you drive her higher and higher until finally, she explodes in a powerful orgasm that makes her tremble beneath you. Her body convulses violently around your cock.

When she finally calms down, you lay her carefully on the bed. Rei looks at you with half-closed eyes, her lips parted in a smile that is both satisfied and hungry for more. You lie down beside her, but before you can relax, Rei is already moving again, climbing on top of you, sliding along your cock, swallowing you in one go, and begins to ride you with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Her breasts bounce through the fabric with each movement, the skin of her thighs sweaty and glistening in the dim light of the room. Rei unbuttons her pajama top, and you can’t resist touching her breasts, squeezing them firmly, feeling the heat and weight in your hands. Rei tilts her head back, letting out a deep moan, almost a purr of pleasure, and you realize she's reveling in the control, in the sensation of completely owning you. "I'm going to come again... I need to come again..." she says, her eyes closed as she quickens the pace, each movement faster, more desperate.

You can feel her orgasm approaching, her pussy tightening even more around your cock, the heat and wetness increasing with each passing second. Her body moves with a frantic urgency, riding you with all her strength, as if she’s rushing towards a precipice, ready to throw herself into the abyss. And when she finally climaxes, Rei convulses on top of you, her body trembling, her muscles squeezing with an almost painful force, holding you inside her as she loses herself in pleasure.

It doesn't take long before you feel an intense heat building inside you, an unbearable pressure accumulating. Rei is still riding you, and she notices the change in you. She's moving slowly after her orgasm, her hips moving in a rhythm that teases you, rubbing her slick pussy against every inch of your cock, feeling the veins throb against her hot, wet flesh. Your eyes meet, and she smiles, a smile that mixes triumph and desire.

"You're going to come for me, aren't you?" Rei murmurs. "I want you to cover my face with your cum. I want to feel it dripping down my face, sliding into my mouth. Give me all your milk, baby."

Her words are a spark that ignites the last shred of self-control you had. In a swift movement, Rei dismounts you, kneeling beside the bed. She looks up at you, hunger in her eyes, as she firmly grips the base of your cock, her lips slowly parting, ready to devour you one last time. She slides the tip of your cock between her lips, sucking with a pressure that's both devastating and incredibly erotic, her eyes locked on yours as if daring you to hold on for just one more second.

But you can't. Not now. Her hands move with devilish skill, gliding up and down the length of your cock as her tongue desperately circles the head, licking, sucking, begging for you to drop your huge load on her.

"Come for me, baby," she whispers between sucks, her voice so full of lust that you almost explode right then and there. "Cover my face with your cum, please. I want it all, I want to feel you."

And then, just as you feel the climax explode inside you, Rei pulls your cock from her mouth, holding it inches from her face, her lips curled into a wicked smile. "That's it, come on my face, cover my face with your cum."

The first jet of cum hits her face with force, spreading across her nose and cheek, slowly dripping toward her lips. She closes her eyes, her smile widening as more jets follow, coating her skin. "That's it, baby... more... give me everything," she moans, feeling the cum drip from her eyelashes, slide down her chin, turning her face into a canvas of pure, dirty pleasure.

"Do it, mark me with your cum," Rei continues, running her fingers across her face to collect more of your cum and slowly licking them, savoring it like it’s her own addiction. "Fuck, I loved that... I loved everything, your taste, your smell, your touch, the way you make me feel so... so slutty."

Even after you've given everything, Rei still milks you with her hands, ensuring not a single drop is wasted. She licks her lips, tasting you, moaning softly as she savors every last drop. "Fuck, this is so warm, so good," she whispers, her voice drunk with pleasure, her eyes still closed as she basks in the sensation.

"Fuck… That was amazing, I loved every second, Rei," you say.

Finally, she opens her eyes and looks at you, a sweet smile on her lips. "From now on, our days will always be like this," she replies.

"I didn't know you could be so... perfect," you admit.

She gives an adorable little laugh as she responds, "You haven't seen anything yet."

—

That night was like any other. The bar, lit by neon lights that cast a bluish glow over everything, made the place seem like it was straight out of a dream. The loud music mingled with the bittersweet smell of beer and fried food. You were already on your third round of beers, maybe your fourth.

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, as the foam from the beer spilled over the sides of the glass you held with both hands. Beside you, Rei, always present, always reliable Rei, laughed at something one of your friends said, but the sound of her laughter felt more like a tapestry woven from nostalgia than a true response to whatever it was.

Your eyes wandered over her face. She was beautiful that night, more than usual.

"Hey, Rei," you called, half-whispering, but loud enough to be heard over the noise around you. She turned her face toward you, her brown eyes shining under the bar's light. "Have you ever noticed that... that I can talk to you about anything?"

She raised an eyebrow, curious. "Of course." Her response was simple, direct, and, in a way, exasperating. Sure, you were friends. But that wasn't what you meant, though the words weren't forming clearly in your mind.

"No, but..." You tried to think, tried to organize your muddled thoughts. "It's more than that. I can talk to you in a way I can't even with... with my girlfriend."

Her expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, but you noticed. She bit her lip, a gesture you'd seen before, whenever she was thinking about something she preferred not to say. "You've said that before," she replied softly, as if she were treading on dangerous ground.

"Have I?" You frowned, trying to remember, but your mind was fogged by the drink. "Ah... well, it must be because it's true."

Rei laughed, a short laugh, not very joyful.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She shook her head, as if she were laughing at an inside joke. You were silent for a moment, trying to understand what she meant, but the alcohol wasn't helping.

"Maybe we have... a connection," you continued, stumbling over the words, "you know, like siblings."

Rei stopped laughing. The smile disappeared, and she looked at you with a seriousness that almost hurt. "It's not that," she said, her voice low, almost inaudible amid the noise around you. "It never was."

You blinked, confused. "It's not? Then... what is it?" You were genuinely puzzled. She had always been there, always by your side, always laughing at your jokes and listening to your rants. And you always thought that was true friendship, something solid and safe.

Rei sighed, and for a moment, you saw something in her eyes you'd never seen before — a kind of sadness mixed with resignation.

"It doesn't matter," she said finally, looking away, as if she could no longer bear to look at you. "Forget it."

You felt uncomfortable, as if you'd failed some test, but you didn't know what to say. Instead, you did what you always did when things got too complicated: you hugged her. It was an awkward, impulsive hug, but you felt her body relax against yours.

"I like you, Rei," you murmured, without thinking. The words slipped out before you could stop them, but it didn't feel wrong to say, "a lot." And suddenly, her arms were around your neck, and you realized, belatedly, how right that felt.

Rei smiled, a smile you couldn't quite interpret. "I like you a lot too."

And then, one of your friends called your name, something about another round of shots, and the moment dissolved. You were dragged back to the table, to the noise and chaos, and Rei sat there, watching as you walked away. When you looked back, she wasn't smiling anymore.

That night, you went home and collapsed into bed. And somehow, you forgot what happened. But Rei didn’t forget. For her, that moment was a line drawn in the sand, a line you had crossed without knowing. But she knew.

And that was what hurt the most.

—

The darkness in the room is thick, punctuated only by the faint glow of the desk lamp. Silence is never absolute, thanks to the soft sound of Rei’s breathing, a constant reminder that you’re no longer alone in this bed, or in any other aspect of your life.

Rei is nestled beside you, her tangled hair splayed across the pillow, a lazy smile stretching across her lips as she snuggles closer.

“We don’t have to sleep in separate rooms anymore, huh?” She lets out a little laugh, and you can sense her satisfaction in finally being able to say that.

You nod passively as the reality of what’s happened settles in your mind.

Rei turns her head to look at you, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Funny, isn’t it?” She begins, and you already know something is coming.

“What’s funny?” you ask, a part of you already knowing that the answer will make you feel like a complete fool.

She sighs, half exasperated, half amused, like she’s about to explain something obvious to a child.

“All those times I tried to get your attention… And you, completely blind.”

You turn to face her, trying to recall anything that might support what she’s saying. Her smile widens, mischievous and teasing.

“Remember that time I asked for a towel while I was in the shower? Just because I wanted you to take a peek?” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “But you? You just tossed the towel through the door and walked away.”

Your mind starts to sift through memories, moments that once seemed innocent, even mundane. You thought she was just forgetful, always leaving the towel behind. It never crossed your mind that it was intentional.

“And those short pajamas I used to wear?” Her voice had a tone of playful satisfaction. “I chose them just to see if you’d notice, if you’d at least look. And what did you do? You covered me with a blanket, worried that I might be cold.” She giggles, but you can feel the sarcasm dripping. “Cold? I wanted you to see me.”

You feel the blush rising up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and… something else. The images flood your mind: the short pajamas, the forgotten towels, and you never understood. You never realized what she was trying to tell you with those signals, and now you feel stupid.

“And when I used to jump on you out of nowhere?” She asks, laughing more vigorously. “Just to see if I could catch you off guard, make you react in some different way. And you? You’d just laugh and push me away.”

You try to speak, but the shame is almost suffocating. “I… I didn’t know,” you mumble, desperately trying to justify yourself. “I thought it was just… I don’t know, playful.”

Rei shakes her head, still smiling under a new layer of affection.

“You were so caught up in that… thing you called a relationship, that you never saw me as a real woman.”

“Rei, I…” you start, but she cuts you off, moving even closer until her nose touches yours.

“I did those things for you, you know? I turned down so many guys because of you, waiting for you to wake up.” She whispers, her voice a mix of sweetness and frustration.

“I’ll try to make it up to you… somehow. I’m sorry, Rei.”

She smiles again, but this time, it’s a different smile, a smile of victory, but also of understanding. She kisses you, a soft kiss, almost marking the end of a chapter that took too long to write.

“Idiot,” she murmurs against your lips, but the tone is affectionate. “You couldn’t have known. But now you do, and you’re not going to stay away from me anymore.”

Rei cuddles up to you, closing her eyes. And as sleep begins to pull you under, you can’t help but have one last thought, one last question: how could it have taken so long?

—

After the relationship finally solidifies, what was once just the ordinary coexistence of roommates, of best friends who share the trivialities of daily life, now transforms into something much deeper, much more intricate. Rei is no longer just the girl you split bills with and share occasional laughs, or the friend who was always there to listen to your complaints about life. She’s your girl now. And that changes everything.

The daily routine, which once seemed dull, now takes on new colors, new textures. The small details, those moments that would have gone unnoticed before, are now enveloped in a layer of raw, unfiltered intimacy. She greets you at home with an almost childlike eagerness, as if you were the sun and she, a plant hungry for light. Every time you walk through the door, there's a kiss, a hug, a heartfelt declaration of how much she missed you, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. The way she looks at you... makes you feel like the only man on earth.

And things start heating up in ways you could never have anticipated. It’s a surprise, but one you embrace with every fiber of your being. Suddenly, she’s wearing costumes in bed, playing characters that range from a provocative nurse to a strict teacher. She dives into these roles with evident pleasure, having fun as she teases you, torturing you in ways you never imagined you’d enjoy so much.

Then there are the moments of complete spontaneity, the ones that turn any mundane situation into something memorable. Like that day in the supermarket parking lot, when she pulled you into the car, the engine still warm, the windows fogging up as she gave you a blowjob that wiped your mind clean, erasing any thought that wasn’t about her, about the moment. It’s clandestine, dirty in a way that only heightens the excitement, leaving you in a state of quiet euphoria as you tried not to moan her name right there in the backseat.

Morning sex becomes almost a sacred routine, the most intense and straightforward way to start the day. No words are needed, just the movement of bodies, the heat spreading, and the way she whispers in your ear. It’s primal, vital, as if without it, the rest of the day simply couldn’t happen.

You explore each other as if discovering yourselves for the first time. Every touch, every kiss, every sigh is a new discovery, a new layer of intimacy that you peel away together. You lose yourself in her, and she loses herself in you.

Every day is a new experience, and you let yourself go because, honestly, there’s nothing you want more than to be immersed in this whirlwind of sensations.

And Rei knows no limits when it comes to teasing you. Like that night when you went to a party with your friends. She seemed innocent, almost naive, in the floral dress that covered her down to her knees. But it was all a facade. During the party, she leaned in to whisper things in your ear, dirty things that made your whole body heat up. And in the middle of casual conversation with others, while everyone was distracted, her hand found yours, guiding it under the table to the part of her that was already wet with anticipation. She whispered for you to stay calm, not to give away what was happening, while she made you desperately wish the night would end soon.

Another time, during an innocent walk in the park, the sun shining, birds singing, the appearance of a perfect, harmless day. Rei, with that look like she wasn’t planning anything serious, led you to a more secluded spot, among the trees, away from curious eyes. "I was thinking," she began, with a gleam in her eyes that you’d learned to recognize, "I wonder if anyone’s ever done it here?" And before you could respond or even process what was happening, she was already on her knees in the grass, unbuttoning your pants.

There are also those moments when she surprises you in the middle of the night. You sleep deeply, your body exhausted from just another day, and are awakened by her soft touch, a caress that starts slow, exploring every inch of your skin, as if she wanted to memorize every detail. She has diabolical patience, letting the desire build inside you until you can no longer pretend to be asleep. And when you finally give in, when your eyes open and meet hers, she’s already watching you with a smile that promises the kind of pleasure that borders on sinful.

Another adventure she created was during a visit to your parents' house. You were there for a Sunday lunch, everyone was in the living room, talking and laughing. Rei, always cheerful and playful, behaved like the perfect girl to introduce to your family. But only you knew what was really going on. During lunch, she would gently rub her foot against your leg under the table, a constant tease that amused her.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit... uncomfortable," she asked, feigning innocence, while her eyes said exactly what she was doing.

After lunch, she pulled you to a corner of the house where no one could see. "I think we need a bit of fresh air," she said, leading you to the garden. But instead of admiring the flowers, she pressed you against the brick wall of the house, her hands already unbuttoning your pants. “Let me ease your mind a little," she whispered before kneeling in the grass, and all you could do was hold onto the wall to keep from falling as she did things with her mouth that made you completely forget where you were.

You couldn’t be more satisfied to be the focus of all this seductive energy she has. And perhaps what surprises you most is how much it completes you. There’s no fear here, no doubts. Just the certainty that, finally, you’ve found what you were looking for. Someone who sees you, who cares about you, who shakes up your routine, who wants you, exactly as you are.

And that, yes, is the greatest achievement of all.

[feyascorner]

before my nails dig

summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.

warnings. angst, fluff, comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos

Had breathing always been this hard?

It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.

And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.

It's getting harder to breathe now.

A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.

"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."

Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.

"Wake up."

"Wake up!"

"--Astarion!"

The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.

All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.

But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.

With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.

All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.

You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"

"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.

"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.

After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."

He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."

"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"

He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.

Gods, you're beautiful.

Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.

"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."

The words sound like honey on your tongue.

"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."

His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."

"You didn't."

"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.

Refreshing, almost.

Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.

And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Thinking about…

Alastor and Bill Cipher after the same s/o (headcannons)

Hazbin Masterlist // Disney Masterlist // Navigation

Warnings: Obsessive behavior! Alastor being sadistic, Bill being a bit weird because duh, wrote this with Human form Bill Cipher in mind, mentions of death

A/N: I really like this dynamic, even though it’s kind of crazy and a lose lose situation for the reader, but it’s still interesting to write about. I hope you all enjoy!!

Alastor

• Alastor isn’t just charming; he’s obsessed with making you see him as the ultimate catch. He meticulously plans every interaction, ensuring that you are always impressed and feel valued. Every compliment and gesture is calculated to win your heart.

“Why there’s that smile I love to see my dear! Ever the beauty!”

Alastor can’t stand the thought of you being attracted to anyone else, especially Bill. He tries to mask his jealousy with his usual grace and horribly timed jokes, but it’s evident in the subtle digs he takes at Bill whenever you mention him.

When Alastor is alone with you he’s not above grand, romantic gestures. Picture him serenading you with an old-fashioned love song or setting up a beautiful, intimate dinner where he pours out his feelings and tries to convince you that he’s the best choice for a partner and way better than bill in all aspects of the word.

Alastor’s affection for you is deeply strategic. He genuinely cares, but he’s also careful in how he shows it. He’ll often try to subtly make you see how a relationship with him would be beneficial, not just for personal pleasure but for gaining power and influence. He’s a very strong man and his image is important, what’s not to want about him?

“Don’t you love this view dear? We could be here all the time, if you wished.”

Alastor envisions a future where you are by his side, helping him dominate Hell. His feelings are not just about the present but about creating a powerful, enduring relationship. He dreams of ruling Hell together, and he’s willing to go to great lengths to make that vision a reality.

But not all things with Alastor are good, you know how much he HATESSSS modern technology and well, it’s how the world runs now. this is something Bill definitely used against him

“Don’t get intimated by a big screen deer man!”

Though he hates how Bills joke makes you laugh, his smile tightens nonetheless

Alastor will often put doubts into your mind about Bill. He is partially right, so it does make you wonder…

“What if he were to suddenly get tired of you? My dear, he’s traveled galaxies and destroyed universes. You wouldn’t want to be subject to that would you?”

or maybe something like,

“That little shape is no better than a toddler. He can’t even take proper care of his toys, breaking them when he gets bored. How pitiful.”

Bill Cipher

Bill is intensely infatuated with you. His feelings might come across as chaotic and erratic, per usual, but underneath, he’s deeply drawn to your spirit and individuality. He finds your uniqueness thrilling and wants to be the one to make your life as unpredictable and exciting as possible.

“ Wanna see this guy dance with his eyes hanging out of his sockets? Gotta tell ya’ you’ll never see anything like it ever!”

Bill’s way of showing affection is through wild and flirtatious chaos. He might sweep you into a whirlwind of bizarre, fantastical experiences, always with an underlying flirtation that makes it clear he’s very interested in you.

Bill knows how to push Alastor’s buttons. He often uses his chaotic antics to draw your attention away from Alastor, playfully teasing him and making a show of his own appeal. For Bill, it’s not just about romance; it’s about proving he’s the more exciting option, you’ll never be bored of him!

Despite his chaotic nature, Bill genuinely wants a deep connection with you, even if he does have a weird way of being about it. He’s drawn to your complexity and wants to show you that his brand of chaos can be both thrilling and deeply meaningful. He might surprise you with moments of surprising sincerity.

Bill is not afraid to take big risks to win you over. He’s willing to gamble with the very fabric of reality just to create memorable moments. His love is unpredictable and intense, and he hopes you will find that thrilling rather than overwhelming.

Bill is the type of guy to take you to a different reality for a date, wanna go watch marshans fight? no problem! upset about something? let’s go to this dimension where you can blow anything up!

He’s definitely got jokes though, and he’s good at them too

“Hey furry, why don’t you cut that loose part of your hair? OH wait, it’s your EARS!”

Bill is no fool though, he sees EVERYTHING, so it’s really difficult to hide things from him, which means being with him also means you losing your privacy.

“He’s a sociopath dove, you can’t really believe that radio freak actually likes you right?”

He isn’t wrong, Alastor has proven multiple times he keeps people around because he needs them for something, and Bill loves this

“What if you don’t satisfy him? What if he decides you’re not worth being with?”

or maybe he’ll say

“ You never know dove, what if he’s just after your soul? Maybe he likes the fact you put up a good fight, eh?”

Both demons have their crazies to them. Picking Alastor means Bill might destroy your dimension and maybe rearrange his molecules. But picking Bill means watching Alastor rip hell to shreds at your expense, hurting anyone and everyone to get you, maybe even threatening whoever you love.

Dating Alastor means you can kind of live a normal-ish life

Dating Bill means you keep your dimension

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MORE THAN WORDS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and a bit of angst

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Emotional Angst, Brief Mention of Fear of Abandonment, Discussion of Uncertainty About Parenthood

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You find out you're pregnant with Logan's baby and confide in your sister Jean, unsure how to tell him. With her support, you eventually tell Logan, who’s initially shocked but reassures you he’s not leaving, and the two of you commit to facing the future together.

Based on this request

THE SKY OUTSIDE WAS SOFT WITH THE EARLY LIGHT OF DAWN, casting a warm glow through the large windows of Xavier's School. You stood in the kitchen, gripping a mug of tea between both hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take a sip. The steam swirled up, almost hypnotic, but your mind was far away from the present moment.

You were pregnant.

Logan’s child was growing inside you, and the weight of that realization felt like an anchor pulling you deeper into your own thoughts. How could you tell him? His life had been filled with so much pain, loss, and isolation. What if this wasn’t something he wanted? Or worse, what if this was something he couldn’t handle? The questions swirled around in your head like a storm.

And then there was Jean—your sister. She would know what to do. She always did.

You needed to talk to her.

~

You found her in the garden, seated on one of the stone benches with a book resting in her lap. Her red hair glistened in the sunlight as the soft breeze carried the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass through the air. You stood there for a moment, watching her, wondering how to even begin.

She glanced up before you could even make a sound, her green eyes immediately softening as she saw the turmoil on your face. “Hey,” she said gently, closing the book and setting it aside. “What’s going on?”

You sat down beside her, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, feeling the weight of the unspoken words pressing against your chest. “Jean, I—I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her voice. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes focusing on the ground as if it held the answers you were searching for. “I’m pregnant, Jean.”

There was a pause. Silence hung in the air between you for what felt like an eternity before Jean spoke, her voice soft with surprise. “Pregnant?” She turned to face you, her hand gently resting on your arm. “Oh my god… does Logan know?”

You shook your head quickly, the thought of that conversation sending a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins. “No, he doesn’t. I haven’t told him yet. I don’t know how.”

Jean’s face softened, and she squeezed your arm reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Logan loves you. He’ll understand.”

You scoffed lightly, not because you didn’t believe her, but because you didn’t know if Logan knew *how* to deal with something like this. “Jean… he’s been through so much. I don’t want to bring more chaos into his life. He already has enough of that.”

Jean sighed, her eyes thoughtful as she considered your words. “I get it. Logan’s life has been hard—harder than most. But this isn’t chaos. This is something beautiful, something new. You’re not throwing him into more pain. You’re giving him a future.”

You looked at her, biting your lip. “But what if he doesn’t want it? What if this… if I… if we’re not what he needs?”

Jean paused, letting the question linger in the air. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze filled with understanding. “You won’t know until you tell him. But you can’t carry this alone. You’re not alone in this.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “And Logan isn’t the kind of man who would just walk away from something like this. He’s been fighting for a family for years, whether he knows it or not.”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in, but your heart was still racing. “How do I even start? How do you tell someone something like this?”

Jean smiled gently, trying to ease your fears. “There’s no perfect way. Just tell him the truth. Be honest with him, and let him process it how he needs to. You’re both in this together, remember?”

The thought gave you some strength. Together. You and Logan had always faced the world together, no matter what. Maybe this would be no different.

“I’m scared, Jean,” you admitted, your voice a whisper.

“I know,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to do this alone.”

You gave her a weak smile, feeling some of the weight lift off your chest. “Thanks. I… I just needed to hear that.”

She leaned in and hugged you tightly. “You’ve got this. And if you need me, I’m here, okay?”

You nodded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Now came the hard part.

~

You found Logan later that day in the garage, working on one of the old motorcycles. The sight of him, rugged and focused, usually made your heart skip in that familiar way, but today it only heightened your nerves. He wiped the grease from his hands with a rag, looking up when he noticed you standing there.

“Hey, darlin’,” Logan said, his voice low and gruff, though his eyes softened when they landed on you. “You okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what had to be said. “Can we talk?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, immediately sensing something was up. “’Course. What’s goin’ on?”

You walked closer, feeling your heart pound in your chest. There was no turning back now. “Logan… I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.”

He set the rag down, giving you his full attention, concern etched in his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air between you, and you watched as Logan’s face went blank for a moment. His hands stilled, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, you feared the worst—that this was too much for him, that he would shut down or push you away.

But then his brow furrowed, his lips parting as he struggled to find the right words. “You… you’re sure?”

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “I found out a few days ago. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

Logan stared at you, his intense gaze searching your face for any sign of doubt. Slowly, his hand reached out, resting against your stomach, almost as if he needed to feel it to believe it. His fingers were gentle, the contrast to his usual gruffness catching you off guard.

“You’re havin’ my kid,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he was trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his face, watching for any sign of how he was feeling.

There was a long pause before he looked up at you again, his expression unreadable. “How long have you known?”

“A few days. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Logan’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb unconsciously stroking your skin as he took in a deep breath. “I’m not gonna lie… this is a lot. I wasn’t expectin’ it.”

“I know,” you said quickly, feeling your heart race. “I didn’t expect it either. And if you’re not ready for this, I—”

“Stop,” he cut you off gently, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “This is… hell, I don’t know what this is. But I know one thing—I’m not leavin’ you. I’m not walkin’ away from this.”

You blinked, surprise flooding through you. “Logan…”

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he admitted, his voice rough but steady. “I ain’t ever had somethin’ like this. But I want it. I want this with you.” His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. “I don’t know how to be a father… but I’ll try.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed with relief. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, but we’ll figure it out.”

Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he rested his chin on top of your head. His embrace was solid, unyielding, as if he were silently promising that he would be there, no matter what came next.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he murmured, and for the first time that day, you believed it.

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