#It's been easier to ignore the rest now that the first part is done

[amethystina]

The Devil’s Due - Chapter 1 (?)

TW: Mild self harm, mentions of violence, mentions of suicide

—

"Defendant."

Ga On stared down at his tightly clasped hands, the whiteness of his knuckles standing in stark contrast to the bruises and barely scabbed-over scratches surrounding them. His skin was itching, restlessness humming just underneath the surface — loud, buzzing, and insistent. Keeping his fingers laced together was the only way to stop himself from picking at the wounds.

He'd forgotten himself twice already, blood beading on the knuckles of his left hand. Ga On couldn't help staring at the little dots of crimson, glinting in the harsh sunlight slanting in from the high windows.

His leg bounced up and down, his shoulders stiff with tension.

"Defendant."

Ga On swallowed and forced himself to look up. His heart was hammering, the bitter taste of nausea thick at the back of his throat. It took several seconds before his gaze was able to rise high enough to actually meet that of the judge, Ga On's stomach bottoming out as the gravity of the situation hit him full force.

He should have known he'd end up here eventually. Professor Min had warned him, more than once, but Ga On had been too arrogant — too reckless and stupid — to listen.

He only had himself to blame.

"Are we boring you, defendant?" the judge asked, his tone flat with disapproval.

Ga On swallowed again, his throat tight, and shook his head.

"No, your honor."

The judge regarded Ga On for a couple of beats, his gaze unnervingly sharp — downright intrusive. Ga On felt like he was being picked apart, forced to bend and unravel, all at once, until nothing but the bare bones remained.

Until everything had been laid bare, leaving him exposed and defenseless.

Ga On forced himself not to squirm but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't maintain eye contact. His gaze fell, settling instead on the nameplate propped up in front of the judge. He could still remember the concerned wrinkle that had appeared between Professor Min's eyebrows when he'd heard what judge would be presiding over Ga On's trial.

Judge Kang was relatively new to the position, Professor Min had explained, but had already made a name for himself as someone who judged with calm yet ruthless precision. He was rational, firm, and was never swayed by his emotions, immune to both pleas and bargaining.

He judged solely based on the law.

A heartless man, Professor Min had said.

Immovable.

And, from what little Ga On had seen, he had to agree. Despite his young age, Judge Kang carried himself with the confidence of someone much older — someone who commanded attention and demanded obedience with his mere existence. That had been obvious the moment Judge Kang had stepped inside the courtroom, a shift going through the air, everything sharpening — heightening — at his arrival.

A man like that had no reason to negotiate or compromise.

He didn't have to.

"How did you get those bruises on your face, defendant?"

Ga On looked down at his hands again, his fingers clenching tighter, until he could feel his bones grind.

"A fight at school."

The silence that hung over the room was deafening and, as uncomfortable as that made him, Ga On still preferred that over the alternative. He would have felt even worse if he'd been forced to listen to Soo Hyun choke back sobs from the spectator seats somewhere behind him.

He was glad he'd been able to convince her not to come.

Professor Min had insisted, however, perhaps feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to stop the trial from happening. He'd always been able to before, smoothing over ruffled feathers and promising the police to keep Ga On out of trouble. Perhaps Ga On had taken that for granted — some part of him might have assumed that, no matter what he did, Professor Min would always find a way to bail him out.

Except this time, it seemed — though not for lack of trying.

And Ga On didn't blame Professor Min for that. This was Ga On's fault. It was his own recklessness that had gotten him into this situation and he shouldn't expect anyone else to get him out of it.

He could admit he was scared, though — outright terrified.

Destruction of property and assault might not be the worst offenses one could be charged with, but they had the potential to ruin his life regardless. A tough judge might give him prison time. And prison time meant he'd be marked as a felon for the rest of his life. He wouldn't be able to get a proper job and might even have a hard time finding a place to live, since no one wanted a convicted criminal as their neighbor.

Ga On should have listened to Professor Min. He should have been more careful.

He just felt so incredibly pathetic.

Soo Hyun had stopped him from committing murder, only for him to go down for assault and something as stupid as hitting a parked car with his motorcycle. It wasn't even his bike that had caused the most damage — he had, when he'd gotten thrown off and slammed against the hood and windshield.

Ga On's shoulder had been throbbing for days afterward but, miraculously, he'd come out of it relatively unscathed. Perhaps because he hadn't been driving all that fast when he'd taken the turn.

Judge Kang let out a low hum.

"Not from the plaintiff?" he asked. Ga On wasn't sure if he'd ever heard someone's voice sound so flat. It would have been fascinating if it hadn't also been so unsettling. "Did Jung Hyun Woo cause any of those bruises?"

Ga On made sure not to look at the plaintiff in question, instead glancing to his right, meeting the gaze of his lawyer. He didn't really know the woman — she was some acquaintance of Professor Min's who had agreed to help, free of charge — but she'd been surprisingly kind and understanding so far. To the point where Ga On could almost ignore the pitying looks she gave him when she thought he wasn't looking. Those definitely made his hackles rise, but he supposed he couldn't blame her.

He must look pretty pitiful to her.

Lawyer Yeo gave a small nod, wordlessly urging him to answer the question.

Ga On only managed to lift his gaze to Judge Kang's nameplate rather than the man himself.

"No," he replied, voice hoarse. "He tried but never actually hit me."

That was something Ga On had been viciously proud of at the time, but probably didn't put him in a very good light now, while sitting in a courtroom being questioned about the crime in question. Then again, what would? He knew that, to everyone in this room — save Professor Min — he was nothing more than a reckless, violent young man who'd destroyed someone's car and then beaten the owner of said car when he'd been confronted about it.

Ga On had known he shouldn't — even as he'd taken the first swing — but he simply hadn't been able to stop himself. Perhaps because he'd seen the brand of the car — much too expensive for the kind of neighborhood they were in — or perhaps it was the way the rich guy had talked to him afterward. The arrogance and contempt in Jung Hyun Woo's voice when he'd threatened to beat the shit out of Ga On for what he'd done.

Perhaps Ga On had just been too angry — high on adrenaline, pain, and grief.

Either way, Ga On had decided to punch first. If the guy wanted a fight, Ga On would give him one.

Except the rich brat, only a couple of years older than Ga On, had been more bark than bite, too stunned to do much after the first punch had landed. Jung Hyun Woo had clearly never been in a fight in his entire life — probably never even been hit before.

Perhaps not even felt real pain before that moment.

And, somehow, that had only made Ga On angrier, his blows coming faster, harder, out of the sheer unfairness of it all. For a brief, frightening moment, Ga On had wanted nothing more than to transfer all of his pain and suffering onto that spoiled rich kid, through whatever means necessary.

He'd stopped only because some people had come out of a nearby doorway, interrupting him mid-swing.

In hindsight, Ga On was grateful for that, since he was honestly scared of what kind of damage he might otherwise have caused. As it were, he'd landed a couple of blows — enough to break Jung Hyun Woo's nose judging by the bruises and bandage he was still sporting — but not enough to require a longer hospital stay.

That was still bad, though, and Ga On was horrified by his own actions.

He hadn't been able to look Soo Hyun in the eye once since that night.

"Are you proud of yourself, defendant?"

Ga On stiffened, his breath catching. He blinked — once, twice — before slowly looking up. Judge Kang's gaze was just as cool as before, but there was a spark of something else hidden just underneath the surface. Ga On couldn't quite name what that something might be, nor if it was good or bad.

"W-what?" Ga On stuttered out.

Even if Judge Kang didn't raise his voice, it still seemed to fill every millimeter of available space within the room.

"I asked if you are proud of yourself."

Ga On was too surprised to respond at first. And, quite frankly, the answer should be obvious.

What sane person would be proud of themselves in his position?

Eventually, after far too many seconds had passed, he shook his head. He felt a twist of regret, knowing just how little that admission mattered.

It was too late now anyway.

"No," he whispered.

Judge Kang let out another low hum, leafing through what Ga On assumed had to be his case file. He couldn't quite tell from this angle.

"And what about your parents?" Judge Kang asked, his gaze rising yet again, pinning Ga On in place. "Do you think they're proud of you?"

It felt like being kicked in the chest, all the air being pushed out of Ga On's lungs.

He couldn't breathe, the grief blooming too fiercely and taking up too much space to leave room for anything else. A chill settled underneath his skin, numbing him from the inside out, sinking its claws into flesh and bone — until he could think of nothing but the dark, festering sorrow. Nothing but the grief. Nothing but the pain.

It had been over a year, but he was still an empty shell, carved out and left hollow.

The only emotion capable of filling that hole, if only for a little while, was anger.

"I didn't think so."

Ga On could barely hear Judge Kang's words over the ringing in his ears. The nausea was growing stronger, the room swaying even if Ga On was sitting down. Tears burned and, in a desperate attempt to distract himself, Ga On dug his fingernails into the backs of his hands. He could feel them catching on his scabs, some no doubt tearing, but that pain was nothing compared to the breathtaking agony washing over him.

Of course his parents wouldn't be proud of him.

At the same time, Ga On also felt a flash of fierce, selfish anger. Why should his parents' opinion matter? They were no longer there — they'd left him, all alone, to fend for himself. What right did they have to judge him when he was the one forced to live without them?

The rush of guilt that followed those thoughts was shamefully familiar, causing a lump to lodge inside Ga On's throat. He still couldn't breathe, emotions choking him.

Perhaps going to prison was what he deserved for being so angry and selfish. Always causing trouble. Always making Soo Hyun worry. Always forcing Professor Min to fix his problems.

"Do you understand the severity of your crimes?" Judge Kang asked.

Ga On swallowed and, despite the tightness in his chest — and the impending lightheadedness — was able to nod.

"Answer verbally, defendant." The command felt like a physical weight settling on Ga On's shoulders. "It's needed for the record."

Ga On squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging even deeper into his skin.

"Yes," he croaked.

"And have you been informed of the level of punishment you might receive for said crimes?"

It took everything Ga On had not to just nod. He had no idea why Judge Kang was asking him all these questions, but he also knew he was in no position to refuse to answer them. That would only make his situation worse.

"Yes."

"So you realize that you might very well have thrown your entire life away simply because you couldn't control your temper?"

Ga On couldn't open his eyes, the fear and regret spreading through his veins, cold and biting.

He could only imagine the face Professor Min was making in that moment. Ga On had been warned, so many times, but had never paid enough attention. He shouldn't have been so stubborn.

He should have listened.

"Defendant?"

There was a barely stifled snicker from somewhere to Ga On's left. He didn't have to look up to know where it came from — the smug superiority made it obvious. The rich brat was clearly enjoying himself.

Ga On gritted his teeth and pushed himself to speak, desperately hoping his voice wouldn't break.

"Yes." His breath shook. "I'm aware."

A silence settled over the room, tense and oppressive. It felt almost like a living entity, pushing down on Ga On, making him want to curl up and hide. His heart was racing, each beat pushing painfully against his ribs, but that still hurt less than the knowledge of what he'd done. Of how stupid he'd been.

He'd ruined everything — not just for himself, but for Soo Hyun and Professor Min as well.

Soo Hyun would be absolutely devastated.

Judge Kang let out another one of those low hums.

A shift went through the air.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you were given a second chance, would you take it?"

Ga On froze, everything stilling for a second.

Had he heard that correctly? The words themselves weren't all that odd — Judge Kang was clearly gearing up for a lecture of some sort — but the tone certainly was. For the first time since he'd stepped inside the courtroom, there was an emotion other than disapproval in Judge Kang's voice.

He sounded curious.

Ga On looked up, equal parts confused and surprised.

"What?" he whispered.

When their gazes locked, the intensity in Judge Kang's eyes was nothing short of unsettling. Ga On held his breath, a chill traveling down his spine, even as he felt an odd thrill of hope. Not so much because of the question he'd been asked, but rather the look on Judge Kang's face.

The man was still undeniably intimidating with his black robe and artfully styled hair — every little detail immaculate — but there was a slight quirk to his lips now. A hint of humanity that was both startling and strangely captivating.

As if suddenly being shown the man behind the stern façade.

"If you were given a second chance, would you make sure to actually do something with your life?" Judge Kang tilted his head to the side, which made him look even younger — almost playful. "And promise not to make the same stupid mistake again?"

Ga On sat staring in stunned silence, not quite sure what was going on.

Neither was anyone else, it would seem. Ga On could hear hushed whispers behind himself and, in his peripheral, saw Jung Hyun Woo lean over to whisper something to his lawyer. Even the other two judges sitting on each side of Judge Kang were giving him bewildered glances.

The confusion in the room was palpable.

Because while those questions weren't entirely unexpected, the way they were said — the way Judge Kang phrased them — made them seem like something more.

Like an offer of salvation.

"Would you treasure that second chance, Kim Ga On?" Judge Kang asked, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

Despite knowing he was probably being tricked — or goaded, somehow — Ga On couldn't help the desperate surge of hope.

"Yes," he replied. "Yes, I would."

He held Judge Kang's gaze, the fear slowly trickling away, leaving nothing but determined conviction in its wake. If Ga On got a second chance, he wouldn't waste it. He would stop being so reckless. He would stop making Soo Hyun cry, time and time again. He'd make Professor Min proud.

He knew it would be hard, rage and grief still whirling inside of him — even now — but it wasn't worth his future. It wasn't worth causing the few people he had left to love this much pain.

He would cherish that second chance. He'd make it count.

"You would promise to do better?" Judge Kang asked. He sounded amused, with an undercurrent of gentle encouragement that was both soothing and terribly disorienting.

"Your honor, what are you—"

Judge Kang held up a hand and Jung Hyun Woo's lawyer cut himself off mid-sentence. Judge Kang still hadn't broken eye contact, his attention not wavering in the slightest — still focused solely on Ga On.

The intensity was almost too much, Ga On's heart giving a nervous flutter inside his chest.

Judge Kang lowered his hand, the room deafeningly silent, no one daring to move or speak. Ga On swallowed, trying to draw breath despite the dryness of his throat and tightness in his lungs.

"You would promise to do better?" Judge Kang repeated, lower now — smooth and cajoling in a way that sent a jolt of something down Ga On's spine.

The question sounded dangerous all of a sudden, as if Ga On was about to enter a binding contract of some sort — one he didn't even know the terms and conditions of, but also couldn't afford to say no to.

He didn't want to go to prison. He didn't want this stupid mistake to ruin his entire future.

At that point, Ga On would be willing to make a deal with the devil if he so had to, let alone the supposedly heartless judge in front of him.

"Yes."

Ga On couldn't quite decipher the look on Judge Kang's face, but he seemed pleased with the answer.

"Are you sure?"

Ga On nodded, jaw clenching. "Yes, I'm sure."

He'd spent the past year making things difficult for Soo Hyun and Professor Min, too dumb to listen to their warnings. Nor had he considered the consequences. He thought he had, telling himself he was prepared to face his punishment, should he ever get caught. Some part of him might even have hoped he would, so self-destructive that he wanted someone — anyone — to just end his suffering.

But he'd clearly been lying to himself.

He didn't want this.

Somehow, this trial, the possibility of going to prison, and the thought of ruining his chances for a future was more frightening than his suicide attempt. Bizarrely, it felt more severe — like a slow, drawn-out punishment as opposed to the quick, sudden end dying would be. And, right now, he wanted neither.

He didn't like what he'd become.

And, if he got the chance to try again, he wouldn't take it for granted.

A couple of seconds passed, Judge Kang scrutinizing Ga On with that unnerving intensity of his — as if trying to assess his honesty. Whatever answers he found must have been to his liking since he soon gave a small nod.

"Very good."

An unexpected shiver traveled down Ga On's spine and he wasn't entirely sure what to attribute that to — Judge Kang's odd line of questioning or the overall weirdness of the situation.

Ga On was unsure of what any of this meant, his heart thundering away inside the tight confines of his ribcage. He didn't dare to glance at his lawyer again, worried that this would all end the moment he looked away from Judge Kang. As if he might lose whatever imagined chance at freedom this confounding man was maybe offering.

It was Judge Kang who eventually broke eye contact.

Without a word — or explanation of any kind — Judge Kang looked back down at his papers and made a couple of notes. A wave of coldness washed over Ga On, the faint flare of hope flickering, struggling against the sudden onslaught of doubt.

Hadn't Ga On given Judge Kang what he wanted?

Was this all just a trick of some kind?

No one seemed to know, a low murmur of confusion spreading throughout the room. Ga On chanced a glance at Lawyer Yeo, but she seemed just as unsure — though she made enough effort to give him a comforting smile when she noticed him looking. Ga On couldn't bring himself to smile back, feeling too nervous and off-kilter, but she didn't seem to hold that against him.

Jung Hyun Woo's lawyer — Hwang something, if Ga On remembered correctly — was the one who eventually broke the silence, a thread of frustration in his voice.

"Your honor, what's the meaning of this? My client is a busy man and we can't—"

"Then let's continue," Judge Kang interrupted, looking up from his papers as if nothing had happened — as if he wasn't the cause for the delay in the first place. "We wouldn't want to inconvenience your client."

While Judge Kang's tone was perfectly civil — polite, even — Ga On somehow knew that last part had been an insult, not a sign of deference.

Lawyer Hwang seemed to notice as well, his expression souring. But, before he had time to do more than open his mouth — no doubt intending to protest on his client's behalf — Judge Kang crooked a finger, wordlessly signaling for the lawyer to step closer. The gesture looked utterly misplaced within a courtroom and Lawyer Hwang didn't seem to know how to react.

A beat passed without anything happening.

Then, ever so calmly, Judge Kang raised a single eyebrow. Lawyer Hwang stiffened but eventually pushed himself up from his chair and approached the bench. His hesitation was visible in the slowness of his steps and the tight line of his shoulders. He even glanced at the rest of the room, as if to confirm that he wasn't the only one seeing this.

Ga On wasn't even sure what 'this' was, but he couldn't deny that he was mesmerized. He'd never seen anyone take command so effortlessly before and while some part of him should probably feel wary — if not outright frightened — there was another that was undeniably fascinated.

With nothing more than a look and a simple hand gesture, Judge Kang could make a man do exactly as he asked — even one several years his senior, by the looks of things.

Ga On felt that odd, almost nervous flutter again — a little lower this time — but was too focused on what was playing out before him to really pay attention.

As soon as Lawyer Hwang came within reach of the bench, Judge Kang picked up a sheet of papers and held it out to the man. The angle and distance made it impossible for Ga On to see exactly what was on it, but it looked like it might be one of the photos from his case file. The lawyer looked equally baffled as Ga On felt, but accepted the photo nonetheless.

"Your honor, what—"

"You may return to your seat."

The dismissal was blatant enough to be insulting, but Lawyer Hwang was hardly in a position to refuse. So, instead, he gave a brief nod and did as asked.

Ga On had no idea what was happening and he only got more confused when Lawyer Hwang's steps faltered as he looked down at the photo Judge Kang had given him. Lawyer Hwang threw a startled glance at Judge Kang — who was blithely shuffling through his papers, seemingly completely unaffected by the tension in the room — before hurrying back to his seat.

Lawyer Hwang looked even more tense than before, his face having gone pale.

Ga On wished he knew what was in that photo.

"We will proceed," Judge Kang announced, effortlessly slipping back into his calm, businesslike demeanor from before. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about the hushed yet clearly heated whispers going on between Jung Hyun Woo and his lawyer. "Defendant, do you have anything else you would like to add?"

Ga On startled at the question, tearing his gaze away from Jung Hyun Woo and Lawyer Hwang to instead focus on Judge Kang. The previous glimpse of humanity had been wiped away, leaving the same aloof and cold judge who had first entered the courtroom. The shift was jarring — and made Ga On wonder which was the real Judge Kang — but he knew it wasn't his place to question it.

Instead, he shook his head. Then, a split second later, remembered to add:

"No, your honor."

A flash of amusement — or perhaps approval — flitted past on Judge Kang's face, but it was so brief Ga On might have imagined it. Ga On swallowed, his thumb rubbing nervously over the knuckle of the other.

"Counsel, do you have any questions for the defendant?" Judge Kang asked, turning his attention to Lawyer Hwang.

The whispered conversation cut off and while Lawyer Hwang made an effort to appear calm and in control, even Ga On could see the cracks in his composure. Ga On had no idea what had been on the paper Judge Kang had given the lawyer but, clearly, it was enough to send them both into a panic.

Ga On's curiosity grew — as did the flicker of hope.

While Ga On might not know what Judge Kang had given the lawyer, it had clearly done something. And it was enough to wipe the smug superiority off of Jung Hyun Woo's face. He almost looked frightened and Ga On desperately wanted to know why.

"No, your honor." Lawyer Hwang paused for a second, as if hesitating, but a swift nudge from his client soon made him continue. "We would like to ask for a short break, however."

Judge Kang regarded the lawyer with a measured kind of blandness, as if he couldn't care less.

"Very well. Will ten minutes be enough?"

Lawyer Hwang nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

"Yes, thank you, your honor."

"Then we take a ten-minute recess," Judge Kang announced. "Defendant, you may step down from the witness stand."

Ga On flinched at suddenly being addressed — he'd almost forgotten he wasn't just a casual observer — but hurried to bow his head to Judge Kang before doing as told. Lawyer Yeo gave him an encouraging smile when he returned to his seat next to her, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. And the way she glanced over at Judge Kang said that she, too, was wondering what was going on.

The previously low murmur of voices swelled as the recess started and only distantly did Ga On take note of Jung Hyun Woo and Lawyer Hwang exiting the courtroom, whispering furiously to each other. Ga On's focus was on Judge Kang, who remained seated at the bench, calmly flicking through the papers in front of him with a detached look on his face.

As if he hadn't just caused the entire courtroom to erupt into furious whispers and speculations.

What was Judge Kang doing? And what had been on that photo he gave Lawyer Hwang?

Ga On's thoughts were churning, curiosity and intrigue almost making him forget where he was and why.

Ga On startled when Judge Kang suddenly turned his head and calmly met Ga On's gaze. He did so with enough precision and purpose to make it obvious he was aware of the staring and had finally decided to address it. Ga On cheeks flushed with embarrassment and even if he told himself to look away, he didn't.

He couldn't.

It was as if his own body suddenly refused to obey him.

Instead, Ga On stared back at Judge Kang, helpless to stop himself, not sure how a gaze could be that intense, even from across a room. It felt almost like a physical touch.

Ga On realized his heart was racing again.

A couple of seconds passed before Judge Kang let out what looked to be a small, amused huff. Then, with a brief yet unmistakable flash of mischief in his eyes, smiled at Ga On. While Judge Kang might act unconcerned and aloof, that smile said that he knew exactly what he'd just done — and didn't regret it one bit.

Such blatant lack of remorse should probably have been alarming — and it was, at least to some degree — but Ga On also couldn't ignore just how smoothly Judge Kang had orchestrated it all, never once breaking his composure.

It was as terrifying as it was impressive.

Judge Kang was dangerous.

And yet, all Ga On felt at that realization was a dizzying flutter in his gut, his breath catching for a split second.

Which was... new.

Ga On tried to swallow but found that his throat was too dry, his thoughts tumbling over themselves. He felt his blush deepen and, finally, through much effort, was able to tear his gaze away. He stared down at the table in front of him instead, spine stiff and heart pounding. He had no idea what was going on — why he suddenly felt so nervous, his skin prickling with awareness — but he could tell now wasn't the time.

Not in the middle of a courtroom, while waiting to see if he'd sealed his own fate with one careless act.

Ga On laced his fingers together in his lap before closing his eyes, trying his best to tune out the whispers. He didn't look at Professor Min, afraid of what he'd see on his face — feeling far too raw to handle the inevitable concern and disapproval he'd probably find there. He'd wait until after the trial, whatever the verdict would be.

Ga On's throat tightened as whatever brief spark of hope he'd felt during Judge Kang's questioning began to dwindle. Of course there would be no second chance for him — not when he was actually guilty of the crimes he was accused of. He should be punished. Just because he regretted his actions now, when he was faced with the consequences, didn't mean he should be forgiven.

He would be a coward to try and run from this.

And yet, Ga On couldn't deny that he felt a clench of panic as silence began to settle over the courtroom once more, signaling that the break was almost over. If he could have frozen time, right then and there, he would have. He didn't want to hear the verdict. He didn't want it confirmed that he had, in fact, ruined his life.

He should have listened to Professor Min.

Ga On didn't open his eyes until Judge Kang started speaking again, Ga On's shoulders coiled tight with tension and heartbeats loud in his ears. He couldn't bring himself to look up, though, instead staring down at his hands — at the scabs and blood on his knuckles, and the half-moon-shaped indents from his fingernails on his skin.

"Let us proceed." Judge Kang spoke with cool efficiency, Ga On swallowing at the flat tone. "Since the defendant—"

A low, apologetic throat-clearing echoed through the courtroom.

"Your honor, if I may?" Lawyer Hwang ventured carefully.

There was a brief pause, long enough that Ga On glanced up at Judge Kang, who was observing Lawyer Hwang with the same impenetrable calm as before.

"You have something you wish to add, counsel?"

Lawyer Hwang got to his feet and bowed formally — albeit stiffly — to Judge Kang.

"Yes. My client wishes to drop all charges, your honor."

Ga On's head snapped up, staring wide-eyed at Lawyer Hwang.

He must have heard that wrong.

Except the wave of surprise that swept over the room, followed by the sudden surge of whispers from the spectators, said that Ga On wasn't the only one who'd heard those words. Only distantly did he register Lawyer Yeo squeezing his arm, his gaze flicking up to Judge Kang instead.

"Drop all charges?" Judge Kang sounded mildly surprised, though Ga On wouldn't say it sounded very sincere. "How so?"

Lawyer Hwang's jaw tightened, but his tone remained impressively polite as he replied:

"Defendant Kim Ga On has expressed his remorse over his actions and, considering his age and situation, my client has decided to show compassion and not pursue legal action. Mr. Kim is young and has his life ahead of him. It would be a shame to ruin his future because of one brief lapse of judgment. We therefore wish to drop all charges and have the case dismissed."

Ga On blinked, not sure how to react. First, while he didn't deny what he'd done, he hadn't exactly shown remorse, either, just that he regretted being foolish enough to end up in this situation. The two were wildly different things. Second, the thought of being pitied by this rich brat made his hackles rise, especially since he knew how hollow the words were.  Third, Jung Hyun Woo probably didn't have a compassionate bone in his body and couldn't care less about Ga On's future.

But Ga On wasn't foolish enough to object, that flicker of hope suddenly bright and blazing, humming through his chest. He held his breath, not quite sure if he dared to believe it just yet — too scared, too hopeful, and too shocked to fully grasp what was happening.

It felt too good to be true.

"If that's what your client has decided," Judge Kang replied, his voice perfectly even, "then the court will of course respect his wishes."

Lawyer Hwang bowed. "Thank you, your honor."

Lawyer Yeo's grip on his arm was tight, but Ga On didn't pay that any mind. He was looking at Judge Kang, both amazed and alarmed by the complete lack of emotion on his face — as if this wasn't at all his doing. As if what Judge Kang had done — whatever he'd written on that photo he'd handed over to Lawyer Hwang — wasn't what had made Jung Hyun Woo change his mind.

Judge Kang inclined his head in acknowledgment before picking up his gavel.

Everything was happening much too fast.

"The case of plaintiff Jung Hyun Woo versus defendant Kim Ga On is hereby dropped. Court dismissed."

The sound of the gavel hitting wood was sharp like a gunshot in Ga On's ears. His breath left him in a rush, like a startled little gasp, his head spinning as the magnitude of what had just happened hit him.

The relief was overwhelming — suffocating — and fierce enough to leave him dizzy.

Slowly, as if experiencing everything through a fog, Ga On became aware of Lawyer Yeo talking to him. He couldn't quite hear what she was saying, partly because of the ringing in his ears, but also the cacophony of voices echoing inside the courtroom. Ga On couldn't really make sense of any of it, but automatically nodded when Lawyer Yeo patted his arm with a beaming smile.

Ga On swallowed — feeling lost and disoriented — and, without conscious thought, driven by some nameless instinct that didn't even make sense, found himself looking toward the judge's bench again. Judge Kang was rising from his chair, effortlessly calm and composed. He picked up the folder from the desk and then, between one heartbeat and the next, his gaze flicked up to meet Ga On's — unerringly precise, just like last time.

As if he'd known exactly where to look.

Ga On held his breath, gratitude surging, but without any real way to express it. There was an entire courtroom between them — loud voices talking, Professor Min approaching in Ga On's peripheral — and too many thoughts, too much to say, for Ga On to be able to voice any of it.

A beat passed before Judge Kang tipped his head in a gracious nod, the gesture seemingly both a blessing and a warning — sealing the deal Ga On had just made.

Ga On had been given a second chance, as promised — now he had to uphold his end of the bargain.

He had to make it count.

And he would. He didn't know how Judge Kang had done it, but Ga On wasn't stupid enough to waste the opportunity he'd been given. He wasn't going to take this for granted.

Ga On's throat tightened and, with the telltale burn of tears behind his eyelids, he nodded back.

No sooner had he done so before Judge Kang turned to leave and, a split second later, Ga On felt the familiar weight of Professor Min's hand settle on his shoulder. Sounds returned — Ga On wasn't sure when they'd become so dull and muted — and he almost swayed in his seat when he turned to look at Professor Min. He felt unmoored again, left adrift, and it took a second before the rest of the world seemed to catch up, slotting back into place.

Ga On took a trembling breath, still a little lost, and realized he was shaking. The relief was staggering, mind-numbing, and when Professor Min crouched down next to him, hand still on Ga On's shoulder — safe and grounding — all Ga On could do was burst into tears.

It was over.

And, through some kind of miracle, he'd been given a second chance.

He had a life again.

—

So this was that idea my brain presented me with, all neatly tied up with a bow. And I wrote down this first chapter within a couple of days, just to make it shut the hell up x’D And I’ve taken down notes for the rest of the story, just in case.

I kind of want to continue? But, for now, I figured I’d throw it up here for... idk. Judgement? Vibe check? To make sure it doesn’t just wither away in my WIPs folder?

Fun facts about this story:

This scene happens when Ga On is 17-18, so BEFORE Isaac dies

The rest of the fic would be set a couple of years later, but also a couple of years before the drama, when Ga On is studying to become a judge

Ga On now feels more indebted to Yo Han than Professor Min for helping him get his life straight, so that will change the dynamic and lessen Professor Min’s hold over Ga On

Ga On has clearly started his gay awakening much, much earlier (his timing is the worst) so there will be fewer sexuality freakouts

Consequently, Ga On has kind of already realised he might not be in love with Soo Hyun, even if he loves her dearly (Yo Han the Homewrecker, amirite?)

Ga On is going to get a little bit obsessed with Yo Han while trying to figure him out, kinda like in the drama except for his own gay reasons instead of Professor Min asking him to

No, Yo Han didn’t just write “drop the case” on that photo — he’s too good for that xD

Ga On is going to come into Yo Han and Elijah’s lives much, much sooner and spare Elijah from so, so much trauma (though there will, of course, be some confusion due to his face)

I just want Elijah to be happy, so sue me

So yeah. I hope you enjoy it! And, hopefully, it sounds like an interesting story? Since I might just write the rest at some point. We’ll see! :D

Thank you for reading 💜

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[nottswitch]

doll.

summary: you had finally convinced Tom to take you to the Restricted Section. however, the outcome might not be something you had originally planned.

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

warning: 18+ smut, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), throatfucking, gagging, mentions of nausea (no actual vomiting), slight choking, orgasm denial? ignoring?? I think that’s all, if I missed anything, let me know!

wc: 3.3k

a/n: listen. listen. this man has been in my head for the last month, and recently he decided to come into my dream? that’s just rude, so that’s what you get as revenge. this fic is also a result of my pent up frustration at life rn, so do with that what you will. also, this is my first time ever writing smut and writing for tom, so pls let me know if it’s any good and if I shall continue on the path. enjoy <3

You had finally done it.

You had finally convinced Tom to take you to the Restricted Section with him. After the whole month of begging almost every day, he agreed, albeit awfully begrudgingly, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. He told you some stuff about his late-night visits to the library from time to time, but you were always burning for more information, considering your own striving for knowledge. He always said the same thing, that he appreciated your effort, but if you could stop trying to make him abuse his Prefect’s power and possibly lose himself the position, it would make both of your lives easier. But you persevered and were finally reaping the rewards, sitting next to him at the table, with a stack of ancient books in front of you, sometime far after midnight.

What you didn’t expect, though, was how absolutely fucking irresistible he would look merely existing. The books were taken out, the first one was flipped through and now they sat on the table, long forgotten, as you just stared at Tom, almost devouring him with your eyes. To be fair, the sight of him was truly divine – his face calm and concentrated, hovering over a particular book he had been studying for the last week, distracted simply to switch to his journal and take another note. His hands resting on the table, holding a quill, scribbling down lines with his exquisite handwriting… They were sinful, those hands. You had to get ahold of at least one. His left hand was in the process of mindlessly caressing the corner of the book with his middle finger when your hand slowly creeped towards it. You lightly brushed your fingertips along the outer part of his hand. No reaction. You started drawing circles along the whole area, skimming along his wrist and thumb. Nothing. You decided to go further and began intertwining your fingers together.

Finally. A sigh.

And he didn’t even look. His hand grabbed yours and put it away, back on the table. And nothing, absolutely nothing changed about the focused expression painted on his face. That was really annoying, but also… hot, in a way? Almost as if he was playing hard to get. You were already aroused just by looking at him, but his silent rejection made you nearly desperate. Your panties were pretty much soaked, and he, quite literally, barely lifted a finger.

Before you could gain control over your hand, it moved dangerously close to his thigh. You put your hand a little above his knee and gradually advanced higher and higher up his leg. Only when you were caressing his inner thigh did you hear another sigh. Tom raised an eyebrow and turned his head a couple centimeters in your direction, his eyes still on the book.

“What?” he asked, the tone of his voice only ever so slightly irritated. His composure remained intact. He wasn’t even fazed by the fact that you were so close to grabbing him through his pants.

“You look so handsome like that, you know?”

You made your best attempt to lace your voice with saccharine seduction. Your hand kept stroking his inner thigh, inching further and further up with each stroke. The only thing he did was thoughtlessly nod, as if he forgot about your existence immediately after asking the question.

You started getting frustrated and even more turned on. You moved your chair closer to his and began caressing his shoulder, brushing your fingers along his neck when they reached it. You slowly moved down to his back and arm, your nails applying some pressure on his body so that he could feel them scratching his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. It had always been one of the rare things to grab his attention, and it worked this time as well. He sighed, closed the book with his finger between the right pages and turned his head to you. His expression was that of mild annoyance, his eyebrow raised again.

“What exactly was the reason you’d been begging me to bring you here? Would you care to remind me?”

You lowered your gaze and your hand on his shoulder stopped, but just for a second. Then you continued, thinking that there was no return at that point and at least you had a chance, now that his attention was on you.

“Knowledge,” you admitted.

“And what kind of knowledge are you trying to soak up right now?”

His eyes flicked towards your hand still massaging his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and shifted in your chair at the mention of the word “soak”. But it was time for drastic measures. You stood up to crouch next to him, so that your mouth was right at the same level as his ear. Your hand moved to his inner thigh again, traveling up to his crotch and back. You felt him harden under your touch and the mere fact brought you immense amounts of satisfaction.

“Come on, Tom, love, we both know what I want right now,” you started whispering, your lips nearly touching his ear. “You. I want you. On the table, on the floor, against the wall, it literally doesn’t matter. If you don’t take me right here, right now, I will die.”

The look on his face didn’t change in the slightest when he grabbed your throat with his right hand and guided you from his left to his front, tightly squeezed between him and the desk. You stayed in your half-crouched position, trying your hardest not to tremble in the knees. The corner of Tom’s mouth lifted ever so slightly while he silently studied your face and body. His grip on your throat tightened when he lifted up his hand, causing you to straighten your half-bent legs. He shot a commanding look at his lap and, guided by his hand, you climbed there, sitting down and sighing as you could finally relax your already aching knees. But your state of relaxation didn’t last, as he abruptly spread his legs, causing yours to shoot open as well and your ass to be left hanging in the air. In order not to fall to the ground, you had to lean back on the desk, propping your front upwards, towards him.

His hand moved from your throat to the hem of your skirt. With quick and methodic movements Tom rolled it up, tucking it behind the top part of the skirt, and spread your thighs even further with a firm press of his thumbs. You felt a heatwave of embarrassment wash over you as he evaluated the state of your panties, an amused smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. A spot of wetness was wonderfully visible and on display. His eyebrow went up and down as he looked up at you, brushing his thumb in a feather-like touch along the still covered surface of your cunt. You threw your head back, partly because you didn’t want to meet his eyes, partly because your own eyes rolled to the point you couldn’t see in front of you and you could barely hold in a moan as myriads of goosebumps spread throughout your body just from this simple touch.

“Look at me.”

Tom clearly didn’t appreciate the lack of eye contact. You clenched your jaw and looked back, met by the sheer intensity of his stare. The stare that had all the power in the world to melt you into a puddle at any given moment. He brushed his other thumb over the same place again, watching your face carefully as you tried to keep your composure. Didn’t help. Your bit your bottom lip, but a sound escaped you nonetheless. Tom’s smirk widened.

“Let’s see,” he quietly muttered, pulling your panties to the side. Your cunt was already slicked and throbbing, which was even more embarrassing, because he looked like he was an inspector evaluating the goods. The smirk faded from his lips as his finger rubbed against your folds, barely spreading them apart and not reaching the clit to provide the much-needed sensation. You couldn’t help throwing your head back again, almost drawing blood from the pressure of your teeth against your bottom lip.

“I said. Look. At. Me.”

Tom uttered every word in a clear, emotionless voice, but it was the very thing that meant trouble. You looked back and the intensity of his stare only grew exponentially. He reached your face with his hand and grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, squeezing them, so that your lips formed into some sort of a pout.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Keep looking until I say you can stop.”

You quickly nodded, intimidated by his frigid dominance. His hand went back to your cunt. He slid his fingers deeper between the folds, lightly brushing against the clit. Your hips jerked up as they tried to follow the path of his fingers, but his other hand held you firmly in place, not allowing a single extra bit of pleasure. He slid them back once more and then the middle one slipped inside you, up to the very base. A jolt of pleasure shook your body, as strong as the feeling of disappointment when he quickly removed the digit. You tried to whine but another look from him quickly shut you up. Tom raised his hand, rubbed his index, middle finger and thumb together and then separated; a sticky string of your wetness was a connection between them and a blatant manifestation of your arousal.

“Soaked. Just like I thought.”

The slightest hint of a smirk returned to his lips as his fingers reached your mouth.

“Open.”

Each of his words was stern, not leaving room for any disobedience. You opened your mouth and Tom pushed two fingers inside, pressing at the entrance of your throat and instantly making you gag. He kept his fingers there for a moment while you clutched the desk behind you to stop your body from shaking as you kept gagging, but not daring to push his hand away. A couple seconds later, when he saw you were on the verge of giving up, his fingers slowly traveled back out of your mouth. You tightly wrapped your lips around them and sucked your slick off, knowing that it was exactly what he wanted you to do. After leaving your mouth his fingers cupped your chin, as his thumb glided over your lips, covering them with the rest of your wetness.

“Now,” Tom leaned back on the chair, looking you up and down, his voice suddenly smooth and enticing, but his gaze still intense, “I see you are rather bored here with me, doll.”

When he said the word, you knew that the next part wouldn’t be so much for your pleasure as it would be completely for his. It wasn’t a meaningless pet-name for him, no, it held value. It meant that you would be treated exactly like a doll: mindless and limp. He saw your eyes widen at “doll” and a faint smirk was on his lips again: he was aware of the connotation and so were you.

“And to save you the trouble of a wandering mind, I am pleased to announce that I have a much better use for a doll like you.”

He waited to continue for a minute, letting you absorb the information and your thoughts fill with speculations. His hand brushed a stray hair from your forehead, him seeming just like a caring boyfriend for a moment.

“Kneel.”

You slowly stood up from his lap, feeling your stretched out limbs relax and almost fail to hold you up, and lowered down to your knees in front of him. From this point of view, he was even more attractive, compellingly so; it was worth it standing on your knees on the cold stone floor of the Restricted Section just for this sight alone. He slowly started unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, almost as if he wanted you to enjoy the show. You drank up every single movement of his slender fingers as he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough for his cock to bounce right out, against his lower abdomen.

“You like what you see, doll?”

You fervently nodded, your mouth salivating just at the thought of being able to suck him off right then. He saw the fire in your eyes and scoffed, shaking his head.

“It is no ordinary pleasure that I want from you now, doll.”

He beckoned you to move closer and you eagerly did, your face just mere centimeters away from his length. Your breath quickened as you thought about the implication of “no ordinary pleasure”.

“Now, give me your hands, doll.”

You lifted your hands and he wrapped his belt around them, tightening it to the point when it started to hurt and you knew it would leave deep marks on your wrists. Then, you tried to position yourself in a way that would allow your hands to support you, but you could only reach the floor with your fingertips.

Tom ran his fingers through your hair, in a touch almost gentle and soothing, and then suddenly yanked you up and forward, straight onto his cock, thrusting his whole length into your mouth, the tip reaching the very back of your throat. You lifted on your knees and violently gagged at the feeling, your hands inadvertently flying up, trying to push back, but the belt didn’t let you make any substantial impact. He held you firmly in place while you kept quivering and making gagging sounds, him clearly enjoying seeing you in this state. Slowly, you adjusted to his cock filling your whole mouth and your body went weak as you lowered back down, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You tried to look up with just your eyes, not being able to move your head; it hurt too much, so you lowered your gaze, the only thing in front of you being his lower abdomen. As you tried to shift in your place, you felt a whiff of the chilly library air against your soaked panties and the sensation drove you nearly through the roof.

“Now, doll, you have to stay like that while I keep going with my work. A fair warning out of the goodness of my heart: it might take a while.”

You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that this could continue for another hour or two. Your head was held back by the edge of the desk cutting into your nape, so you weren’t able to move at all. You were completely at his mercy, he could do literally whatever he wanted, but he chose not to do anything. As soon as he let go of your hair, he went straight back to his book, taking notes as if nothing had happened.

Time went by painfully slowly. The constant feeling of him in your mouth and throat overwhelmed you to the point when you started to twitch at times, shifting your weight to get any semblance of friction against your aching core. The position you were in didn’t allow that at all, your head being stuck firmly between the desk and his body. The most irritating thing about the whole ordeal was the fact that Tom ignored you completely, fully absorbed in whatever kind of studying he was doing. You tried to get his attention a couple of times by producing incoherent sounds and trying to tighten your lips around him, but you quickly understood that there was no use. You tried counting seconds and minutes, but your mind gave up when you reached fifteen. The only things you could think about were his cock and getting something, any type of pressure on your clit. Your wetness soaked through your panties and, you were pretty sure, was dripping down your thighs, creating a small puddle on the floor underneath you.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you finally heard the book shut. You almost shuddered at the sound, your pupils dilating and your breath accelerating, probably close to the speed of light. Tom leaned on the back of the chair, looking down at you with one of his smirks of the devil himself. His hand ruffled your hair, pulling at it to slightly lift your head up and shove it back down, as if he was trying to gauge if you were still alive. At the sound of your muffled groan he raised his eyebrows, amused.

“The doll has some life left in her. What a pleasant surprise. You look perfectly splendid like that.”

You groaned again, the sound coming from somewhere inside your chest. You desperately wanted to look up, but your head was still pressed in its place. Tom scoffed, messing with your hair once again.

“The time has come for some more… customary activities of ours, don’t you think?”

As if you could answer. You tried to nod, but the edge of the desk only further cut into your nape, making you wince in pain.

“The doll seems to agree. Pleasure.”

He moved the chair a bit further from the desk. With more space you could finally properly breath, so you shifted in your place, your stiff legs aching as you had to follow the movement of the chair. Tom’s hand gripped your hair and pulled you upwards, releasing almost the entirety of his length from your mouth apart from the tip. The sudden emptiness made your throat clench and you felt nausea building up rapidly, although the feeling had no time to develop as you were quickly shoved down again, your nose nearly crashing against his body. Tears gathered in your eyes sprayed all over, your lips stretched even more than they already were and you prayed the corners of your mouth wouldn’t crack. The tension building up in your core was begging to be released as you were being thrusted up and down again and again, the tip of his cock stroking the back of your throat again and again, causing you to produce the most sinful gagging sounds known to man. You tried to balance on your tied up hands, but your fingertips just barely brushed against the floor as your whole body moved in unison with your head. Tom barely made any sound, a heavy breath occasionally escaping his lips. He threw his head back, his eyes closed, while you took him whole at the mercy of his hand.

At last, you felt his thrusts speeding up, sensing his release. After a couple of especially violent ones he let out a quiet groan, and you felt his hot semen filling you up and spilling down your throat as he pressed you all the way down. Your breaths were heavy but barely audible, his cock still stuffing your mouth to the brim. Tom heaved a deep sigh as you felt his grip on your hair loosening. You didn’t dare to move until he pulled you up, lifting your head with his finger on your chin, looking straight into your eyes. Your vision was blurry from tears, more of them running down your face and dripping down to the floor as they slid off your jawline. Your lips were swollen and you couldn’t properly close your mouth yet, panting in quick and dry breaths. Tom smirked, taking in the sight of your utter destruction.

“A broken doll. Truly a sight to behold.”

He leaned back on the chair again, pulling up his underwear and zipping the pants. Then, he bent down, taking your hands gently in his and undoing the belt. His fingers made their way across the deep red marks on your wrists, caressing them with utmost attention.

“You have been a very good doll for me tonight. Now, what do you say to spending the night in my dorm? The doll has to receive her rightful reward.”

my masterlist

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. iii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: cheating, lil sprinkle of angst, shitty (ex) boyfriend behavior, some major fucking CHEESE (sorry if ur lactose intolerant), reader is the ultimate tease, dom!eddie, light bondage, degradation kink, oral (m receiving), ass/pussy spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: honestly about to dedicate my entire life and blog to @strangerstilinski because i couldn’t have gotten this one done without her help. also thank you everyone who has been so incredibly patient with me, i hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 8.2k

The weekend had come and gone way too fast.

And now Monday was staring you right in the face, and with it— a very important decision.

You spent the rest of your weekend with Eddie, cuddling, talking and just enjoying each other's company. For those two days you were in your own little world together and you honestly never wanted it to end. But realistically you knew you had to go home and return back to your reality.

A reality where you belonged to someone else.

Your parents were absolutely livid by the time you returned home late Sunday evening, getting the biggest lecture of your life after Eddie had dropped you off. To add fuel to the fire, Scott had been calling your house nonstop since Saturday morning, much to your parents' annoyance. But that was a conversation you weren’t ready to have just yet.

Especially not over the phone.

You tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to figure out what you were going to say to him.

Monday was going to be rough, you knew that. But the thought of being able to finally show everyone who your heart really belonged to made things a little easier. You hadn’t exactly let Eddie know of your plans to dump your boyfriend the following day but he could tell something was up.

From the way you kissed him goodbye in his van, right out in the open for anyone to see, including your parents. And the look you gave him as you glanced over your shoulder before continuing up your driveway. It gave him a spark of hope that maybe this wasn’t just a silly fling to you either.

You got ready that morning with shaky hands, tucking one of Eddie’s band tees into your Levi’s. The male had let you wear it home the previous day, mostly because he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothes a little too much. You fiddle with the belt loop of your jeans as you stare at your reflection.

A mixture of nerves and excitement swirled in your belly as you took in your appearance, smoothing your sweaty palms over your thighs.

You can do this.

You take one final look before grabbing your backpack and bound down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step. You can’t help the goofy smile from spreading across your face as you think of seeing Eddie, and it makes all this seem a little easier. You all but ignore the curious looks from your parents as you bolt out the front door.

They hadn’t seen you this happy in months.

But as you drive to school, those pesky nerves begin to creep back in as you pass Scott’s jeep. You will your heart rate to slow as you search for a parking spot. A sense of relief fills your chest when you notice one just a few spots down from a very particular van. Your hands shake as you pull the key from the ignition, taking a moment to collect yourself before you head inside.

You try to ignore the curious eyes of your peers as you enter the school, knowing the events of the previous Friday were still fresh in their minds. And you reach your locker without incident, quickly yanking it open to put away your textbooks. You keep your head down as you walk to your first class, part of you was just waiting for Scott to sneak up on you.

Oddly enough you hadn’t seen him or Eddie all morning, which was extremely unusual. By now Scott would've walked you to first class and you’d be spending your second period study hall with Eddie. So seeing neither of them had your mind racing, and your anxiety spiking.

Had Scott figured it out? Did he confront Eddie?

A pit begins to form in your stomach at the thought, and you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself if Eddie was hurt because of you. You’re so wrapped up in your own head that you don’t notice someone beginning to approach you. A look of determination on their face.

“I need to talk to you.”

The voice startles you, panic rises in your throat as your eyes lift. You are expecting to meet Scott’s icy glare, or the warmth of Eddie’s gaze. But instead, you are met with the soft but stern cerulean of Dustin Henderson.

“Me?” you ask softly, glancing around you before back at the younger male.

“Yes you,” he huffs in annoyance.

“What could you possibly need to talk to me about?” you keep your tone hushed as he takes the empty chair across from you.

“I know you think you’re fooling everyone, but you aren’t fooling me.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment, fingers gripping the arm of the chair as he raises a brow at you.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you’re sneaking around with Eddie,” he snaps.

Your heart leaps into your throat, mouth drying as Dustin continues to glower at you. A sting of betrayal suddenly fills your chest, and you feel foolish for even thinking Eddie would actually keep this secret between you.

But maybe he was just like Scott, who loved to brag about his sexual conquests to all his friends.

“He wasn’t supposed to tell—”

“He didn’t.” Dustin cuts you off, taking off his hat to run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m just not blind.”

You both sit in silence for a moment then, feeling even more confused than you were when he initially sat down.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Dustin sighs, folding his hands together before he meets your gaze again.

“Eddie doesn’t know I'm here right now and honestly, he’d probably kill me if he did know.” The male winces slightly, before he continues. “But I am through with sitting around and watching one of my best friend’s hearts get stomped on.”

“Dustin, that’s not—”

He holds up his hand to cut you off, shaking his head.

“Just let me finish.”

So you hold your tongue, despite wanting to tell this kid that he has it all wrong.

“Eddie’s a good guy, one of the best I've ever known. And over the past couple of months we’ve all seen a change in him, he’s happier.”

That thought warmed your heart.

“But I can also see how all this is weighing on him. You may not notice it, but it’s definitely there.”

A lump has formed in your throat, watching in silence as the younger boy stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He glances at you once more, that look of disdain still written across his features.

“Now I know I can’t tell you what to do, but Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.”

And without a glance back in your direction, you’re alone again.

Fourth period.

The moment you’ve been waiting for and simultaneously dreading since Sunday evening. It was the only class you shared with Scott, and while you’d been able to avoid him most of the day— it was time to face the music.

When you step into the classroom, he is already seated in his usual spot in the back corner of the room. The empty desk beside him is practically calling your name.

But your whole body freezes when his eyes meet yours expectantly. And as he begins to wave you over, you make a beeline to the opposite side of the classroom. You keep your eyes low as you find an empty seat, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

When you flip open your notebook, you hear the familiar squeak of sneakers in front of you. Your eyes slowly lift to reveal the hardened features of your boyfriend. His jaw is set in a grimace, and he rests his knuckles harshly on the front of your desk.

“Babe, we need to talk.”

But before you have the chance to reply, Mrs. Jones enters the classroom in a flurry. The bell rings immediately after, signaling the start of class. And it’s hard to tell whether the abrupt noise or his harsh glare causes you to flinch in your seat. She claps her hands to attention then, but Scott still doesn’t move.

“Mr. McGuire, take your seat now.”

He merely scoffs before he stalks away, returning to his own seat. Feeling defeated, you slump down in your chair. Any confidence you’d had this morning seemed to dissolve under his angry gaze. The rest of the class period goes by in a daze, as you can’t seem to focus on anything besides the daggers that Scott has been throwing your way the entire hour.

Once the final bell rings, you shoot up from your seat so fast you nearly take a couple other students in your rush. You practically sprint to your locker, hoping to make it to the lunchroom before Scott can corner you.

But you underestimated his speed, especially when he was sober.

His hand suddenly slams your locker door shut, and he backs you into the cool metal. He leans his palm against the line of lockers, closing you in completely. There was no way you could escape him now.

“What is going on with you? Why are you being such a frigid bitch?” he seethes.

You can’t help but wince at the insult, shrinking under his increasingly angry gaze. People were beginning to stare, causing more nerves to twist in your gut. This was a much more interesting sight than anything the cafeteria had to offer. And while you hated the attention, you knew you had to do this.

Just like ripping off a bandaid.

“I want to break up.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, confusion quickly replacing the anger on his features. You let out the sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, relief filling your chest as you finally spoke the words aloud.

Scott runs a hand through his dark locks, pulling away from you ever so slightly.

“You want to break up?” his voice raises, “Why? Is this about that stupid fucking party?”

You knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he wouldn’t just agree and walk away. While you had tried to prepare yourself for what you wanted to say all night, your brain was struggling to string any words together.

You rub your temples, trying to prolong the inevitable but the male could only take your silence for so long.

“Well?!” he shouts.

You take a shaky breath as you square your shoulders, attempting to feign some kind of confidence. Dustin’s words from earlier echoing in your ears. He doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret. The sea of students had only begun to grow in the past few minutes but you don’t notice that Eddie was amongst them.

“I don’t love you, and quite frankly I don’t think I ever did.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“You're an arrogant, selfish prick. And honestly, I just can’t keep doing this anymore…” you pause, now meeting his stormy eyes.

“Especially when my heart belongs to someone else.”

If you thought Scott was angry before, you hadn’t seen anything yet.

His hand suddenly slams into the locker next to your head, causing you to shrink instantly. While he’s never been violent towards you before, you aren’t entirely surprised by it. It was just in his nature.

“So you cheated on me? Is that what you’re saying?”

Before you can get another word in, you hear the familiar clearing of a throat. And a ringed hand reaches out to harshly tug the male away from you.

“You just don’t learn do you, Scotty?”

Eddie is beyond fuming as he shoves Scott back into the lockers before the male can properly react. And while Scott wasn’t the smartest guy, he quickly seemed to put two and two together.

He looked between you and Eddie before he started laughing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Munson? You’re fucking the freak?”

You instantly turn on defense mode, entirely fed up with his treatment of him. Before you can stop yourself, you copy Eddie’s actions and shove Scott back into the lockers. Surprise crosses both of the males' features at your actions, knowing you were never a violent or angry person.

But everyone has their limits and you’ve just hit yours.

“Yeah, and he fucks me so well too. Eddie here actually knows how to make a girl come— but I can’t say the same for you, McGuire.”

An astounding ‘oooh’ resonates through the crowd at your words.

Scott’s cheeks are flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. No one has ever stood up to him like this before and he’s suddenly at a loss for words. Eddie is grinning like a mad man, clapping excitedly before he wraps his arms around your waist. You welcome his embrace, leaning back further against his chest.

Scott just stares at the two of you, gritting his teeth as you smile sweetly.

“Now, I think we’re done here. Let’s go, Eddie.”

The metalhead willingly lets you drag him away, only your destination wasn’t the cafeteria anymore.

You pull him into the nearest empty hallway, shoving him up against the wall and locking your lips together. Eddie eagerly accepts your advances, fingers lacing through the loop of your jeans to keep you pressed against him.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, making every touch of his skin feel like a live wire.

“Munson!”

You curse softly as you realize you’ve been caught, and quickly glance over your shoulder.

Mr. Mundy looks between the two of you with a deep sigh, “Now come on, you know the rules. Break it up or you’re both getting detention.”

You unwillingly pull yourself away from him and lean against the brick wall beside him. A glance out of the corner of your eye shows how the male is biting back a grin.

“Try not to infect your girlfriend with your delinquency, alright?” Mr. Mundy gives you both a disgruntled look before heading back into his classroom.

Once the door shuts behind him, Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and coaxes you back into his arms.

“Y’hear that? Girlfriend,” he teases, wiggling his brows but the title makes your stomach flutter nonetheless. “Didn’t even ask me out on a proper date though, sweetheart. I’m offended.”

He laughs as you playfully pinch his side, shaking your head fondly. You lean your forehead against his chest, letting yourself indulge in the scent of his cologne.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?” he says after a while.

The sudden change of tone has you lifting your head, gazing up at him curiously. Eddie pulls you in even closer, letting his hands rest on the curve of your waist.

“That your heart belongs to me?” he prods.

You look down at your feet shyly, not realizing that he had heard that part of the conversation. Eddie doesn’t let your gaze wander for long though, as he gently tips your head back up to meet his.

“Yes, I meant it,” your voice shakes, your nerves getting the best of you.

But the look that flits over his features has your heart skipping a beat and butterflies erupting in your belly.

“All mine?” he questions, nervously licking his lips as he awaits your answer.

“All yours, Eddie.”

Being Eddie Munson’s official girlfriend is more than anything you could’ve dreamt about.

While sneaking around with him was fun in the moment, the amount he wanted to show you off made your heart sing. You had never felt so wanted or taken care of in your entire life.

But it wasn’t always easy, as graduation continued to grow closer the two of you barely had any alone time together. Between Hellfire, band practice and constant cramming for finals— time was not on your side.

But busy schedules be damned, you both manage to carve out enough time for a date at Benny’s.

“The usual, kids?”

Benny calls from the kitchen with a grin as you both take a seat in your normal booth. The diner had quickly become your favorite place for date nights, in your opinion they had the best food in town. Despite Eddie’s futile attempts to take you to Enzo’s, you prefer the easy going atmosphere of the small diner much more.

“Nah, just two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries. We only got a few minutes before this one abandons me for prom shit with Wheeler,” Eddie teases.

You can’t help but pout, nudging his foot under the table.

“Says the one who abandoned me for movie night with Henderson yesterday.”

What you aren’t aware of though is how Dustin was actually helping Eddie pick out a tux and tie for prom. Laughing hysterically as the older boy panicked over what color tie would match perfectly with your dress.

Benny watches you both playfully bicker back and forth, shaking his head fondly. He brings out your order a few minutes later and unable to contain your excitement any further, you grab a fry and dip it directly into your milkshake.

Eddie’s lips freeze around the straw, gazing at you in absolute bewilderment when he pretends to gag.

“Sweetheart, that’s disgusting.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, taking a bite out of the fry before dipping it back in.

“You really shouldn’t knock it till you try it, Ed,” you say in a sing-song tone as your boyfriend urgently pulls the basket of fries away from you.

“Yeah— no way. I’m not doing that, you’re pretty sick in the head, baby,” he muses between bites of a plain fry. “Shit… and people call me a freak?”

You stifle a giggle as you lean forward, stealing the half eaten fry from between his fingers. You dunk it back into your milkshake and pop it in your mouth with a soft but exaggerated moan.

Eddie shifts slightly in his seat, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. It was almost too easy to get him so worked up. You ignore the warning look he shoots your way as you reach for another fry.

“Come on, just try it.”

You scoop as much of the shake onto the fry as possible, holding it towards him. The male just shakes his head, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth.

“You know, I don’t know if this is gonna work out between us, doll face,” he chuckles, watching as the chocolate cream begins to drip down your fingers.

His petulance continues but you’re still trying to goad him into taking a bite, dangling it in front of his scrunched nose, inching closer and closer. All in an effort to tempt him. You watch patiently, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip it between his pouty lips.

“This level of blasphemy might be crossing a line, even for me—”

Before he can finish his thought, there’s lukewarm milkshake and salt smeared across his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Eddie sits in shock for a moment before you burst into a fit of giggles at his expression.

“Oh, you are asking for it now, baby,” he taunts.

You are unprepared as he dips two of his fingers into his own glass, reaching forward to smear the sticky chocolate across your cheek. You gasp when the male leans forward, mischief sparkling in his eyes. His tongue darts out, causing a loud squeal to escape you as he licks the milkshake from your cheek.

“Eddie, that’s gross,” you whine as you reach out to steady the glass before he dumps milkshake everywhere.

“Hm, you didn’t seem to find it that gross when it was buried inside your—”

You toss a fry at him before he can finish that sentence, hitting him square in the forehead. He looks shocked, ringed fingers dramatically grasping at his chest when he slumps in his seat.

“You wound me, sweet thing.”

It’s then that you take the time to really look at him, and a surge of utter fondness fills your chest. While he goes on a dramatic rant about how french fries could be considered a deadly weapon, you’re only half listening.

Instead admiring the way his dimple indents his cheek when he grins sheepishly at you, and his hands flail about when he speaks. And it really hits you just how lucky you are to have him, that he was all yours.

So when you lean forward to capture his lips and ultimately silence him— he’s a little surprised. But he cups your face between his palms and kisses you back with just as much fervor.

“What was that for?” he asks a little breathlessly when you pull away, and you just smile.

“Just… cause I can.”

His eyes soften and he reaches out to thread your fingers together. Eddie knows the significance of what that means, so he can’t help but lean in to press your lips together again.

“Fuck yeah, you can.”

You really wonder if the universe was playing one big joke on you.

After your mini date at the diner a few days prior, you’d barely seen Eddie the rest of the week. The guys had a big gig at the Hideout the following evening and have been using any spare moment they had to practice. While you understood the reasoning for it, the other part of you was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Eddie could definitely tell something was up, but he didn’t exactly have the time to ask you in the five minute intervals you had together between classes.

So in an effort to make up for his absence, Eddie asked you to tag along to practice that night. But you might have had some ulterior motives for agreeing. Since it had been well over a week since you had any proper alone time together, you were past the point of needy.

Despite still seeing each other, the rushed kisses and subtle touches weren’t enough for either of you.

This was the longest either of you had gone without sex, so you can only imagine he was feeling the same way. But if his longing glances told you anything, it was that he needed you just as much— if not more. So that’s why you showed up to practice in your shortest skirt you owned.

What the metalhead doesn’t know is that you aren’t wearing any panties under said skirt.

However, he’s going to find out soon enough.

You’d given him a quick peck on the cheek when you got there, nothing too much though. You really did want his friends to like you, and they seemed to hate the constant displays of affection you both exhibited on the daily. So you kept it subtle, mostly for that reason.

But a small part of you did it just to rile him more.

In the short time you’d been officially dating, it became quite apparent how much Eddie craved your touch, whether it was sexual or not. He’d subtly tap his fingers on your knee during group hang outs, or press his lips to your temple when he walked you to class. You found it utterly endearing, but you also knew you could use it to your advantage.

So you could immediately tell from the slight pout that your boyfriend wanted more than just a peck on the cheek.

Hook, line and sinker.

As practice continued on, you found yourself sitting on an unused amp, with no other chairs in sight. The group wasn’t exactly used to visitors during practice, so you had to make due. You didn’t mind it though, as it put you in Eddie’s direct line of sight.

About half an hour in they decided to take a small break, the other three males were chatting excitedly about their upcoming dnd campaign. Eddie was more focused on tuning his guitar, but his eyes continued to wander back over to you.

This was the perfect opportunity to let him in on your little secret, while the other members were too preoccupied to be paying attention to you.

You sigh heavily and lean your arms back, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall open. Giving him the perfect view of what you were hiding… or rather not hiding, underneath your skirt.

His eyes flick up to your face before they begin to travel lower, and it takes him a full minute before he notices. But once that recognition flashes across his features, his mouth hangs open in shock.

A playful smirk plays on your lips and you quickly cross your legs again, acting as though nothing had happened. Eddie’s jaw is clenched when he returns to tuning his guitar, feigning as though it had no effect on him. But you could tell from the growing bulge in his jeans, that it definitely did.

He was grateful he had the ability to hide his boner for the rest of practice, not wanting to explain himself to his bandmates. But you knew by his stiff posture, you were so in for it when this was over.

The thought had you squirming with excitement, and you tried your best not to make a mess all over your makeshift seat. Now that would be something you could never live down.

Thankfully Eddie decided to end practice earlier than normal, claiming they could all use a break after their busy week.

But only the two of you knew the real reason.

Eddie all but drags you out to his van once his gear is packed up, gently shoving you against the back door. He opens the other side to put his guitar back into the vehicle, and quickly slams it shut. You bite back a grin when he cages you in against the cool metal.

His jaw is still tense, eyes darkening when his hand begins to caress your bare thigh.

“That was quite the peep show, sweetness.”

You try to keep your breathing even, but his roaming hands are making that very difficult.

“I don’t know what you mean, baby,” you feign innocence, knowing it’ll only rile him up more.

While he loves when you’re his good girl, he also loves any excuse to treat you like his little slut. The brunette chuckles humorously, grabbing your chin in his free hand to keep your eyes aligned with his.

“Come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” he tuts.

You just continue to gaze up at him all doe-eyed, hands resting on his chest. You don’t answer him, which only makes him more frustrated than he was to begin with.

“I see how it’s gonna be... You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one,” he hisses. “Now, get in the van.”

He pulls away, and you feel a sudden chill from the loss of his body heat. When you don’t move an inch his brow raises, cocking his head at you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.”

As much as you would love to continue to push his buttons, you know you’re in enough trouble as it is. So you squeak out a quiet ‘yes, sir’ and round the side of the van to hop in the passenger seat.

Eddie is silent for most of the ride, but the tension in the air is palpable. While he says nothing, the glances he keeps tossing your way have you squirming in your seat. In an effort to stop your distracting movements he reaches a hand out, ringed fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.

And in your desperate state you can’t resist pushing him just a little more. So you rest your smaller hand atop his and guide his fingers in between your legs. Eddie suddenly slams on the brakes and your body flies forward when he pulls off on the side of the road.

He puts the van in park before turning to face you.

“In the back, on your knees. Now.”

You grin excitedly at his demanding tone, already anticipating what was to come. So you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and scurry into the back of the van without another word. Eddie takes his sweet ole time before joining you, as part of your punishment. He knew your patience would only last so long.

He flicks through his cassette tapes and fiddles with the radio volume… anything to keep you waiting.

So when he does finally join you in the back, you’re practically trembling with need. His hands cradle the back of your neck, titling it to bare your throat to him. He presses harsh kisses along your skin, nipping every so often. You can’t help but whimper from the contact, your hands reaching out to grip the fabric of his shirt.

But he stops you, immediately pushing your hands aside.

“Only good girls get to touch me,” he grunts.

Your eyes widen when he pulls the skull bandana out of his back pocket, maneuvering himself around you. He pulls your hands behind your back and binds them together with the soft fabric. Once he was happy with the secureness of the knot, he’s back in front of you.

This was something new.

His fingers gently grip your chin, but he forces you to meet his gaze.

“What’s your color, baby?”

As your sexual relationship began to delve deeper, the more safe words and communication became his highest priority.

“Green… neon fucking green,” you hum.

The smirk quickly returns to his features, and his lips go back to sucking on your neck.

“Watch that pretty mouth of yours, doll or I’ll put it to use.”

You can feel the wetness starting to drip down your thighs, having absolutely no barrier due to your lack of undergarments. His hands have found their way to your breasts, kneading them in his large palms before he continues lower. Once he reaches the apex of your thighs he nearly growls, feeling your arousal coating your supple skin.

“Fuck— I need you, Eds.” you whine, already forgetting what he had just told you only moments prior.

Eddie promptly removes his hands from you, the sound of his belt clinking open has you shivering in anticipation.

“You really want to test my patience tonight, don’t you?”

You now realize your mistake.

But you can’t find it in yourself to regret it when he finally releases his cock from the confines of his jeans. You glance up at him expectantly, licking your lips at the sight of his pre-cum coating the tip. His fingers guide your mouth open and can feel your body practically buzzing with excitement.

“Since you can’t seem to listen, I’m going to use your mouth however I want. If it’s too much I need you to snap your fingers twice. Okay?”

You give him verbal confirmation and snap twice to demonstrate that you are still able to do so even with your hands bound. Satisfied with your response he grins and opens your mouth wider.

“Lemme see that tongue, baby,” he instructs.

You obey immediately and he rewards you by slapping the head of his cock against it. Once… twice… a third time… before he slips it past your lips with a groan.

Eddie’s hand fists your hair, pulling your mouth even further onto his cock. You take every inch willingly, eagerly swirling your tongue around the base of his shaft. His eyes squeeze shut, mouth slightly agape as you take him even deeper.

But you already miss his piercing gaze, now desperate for him to look at you. So you pull back until his cock slips past your lips.

His eyes shoot open and he raises a brow at you, “Did I say you could stop?”

The utter dominance in his tone and stature makes you even wetter, your thighs pressing together as he continues to stare you down with those dark eyes.

“Want you to look at me,” you plead, batting your lashes at him.

He just chuckles, keeping his gaze locked on yours when you eagerly take him back into your mouth. His fist tightens in your hair, another groan escapes him when he hits the back of your throat. A wicked grin tugs at his lips when he feels you gag around him.

“That’s right, gag on it,” he coos.

Your eyes remain locked with his as he continues to use your throat, mascara tears running freely down your cheeks with each thrust. His groans fill your ears, each one sending heat straight to your core. His lips pull up into that signature smirk as he admires the absolute mess he’s made of you.

But before he reaches that peak, he slips himself out of your mouth. It’s too soon for your liking, despite the throbbing ache between your legs. He notices the pout on your lips, now eyeing the string of saliva that keeps you connected.

“As much as I’d love to come in that bratty mouth of yours…” he pauses, wiping up some of the drool from your lips with his thumb. “I’d much rather see it dripping out of that pretty pussy instead.”

You can’t help but whimper in response, letting Eddie bend you over the center console of the vehicle. He flips your skirt up, landing a harsh smack to your ass as he nudges your legs apart with his own. You’re suddenly grateful for the console beneath you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold yourself up with your hands still bound.

Eddie grabs your bound wrists with one hand, the other slipping between your thighs.His calloused fingers run through your slick folds, and he moans at the wetness he finds there.

“God… always so wet. You’re such a little slut for me, huh? You like when I use you like this, baby?”

You merely nod, your thoughts far too jumbled from his touch that words are escaping you. But Eddie isn’t having any of it, and really you should know better.

Another harsh slap lands on your pussy this time, a shaky gasp leaving your lips.

“Come on sweetheart, tell me…”

Eddie slips two fingers into your entrance with no resistance, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside of you. But his actions stop just as quickly as they start due to your continued silence. And when he begins to slip his fingers out, your walls contract around them in an effort to keep them nestled inside you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” he taunts.

You want to cry from frustration when he fully removes the digits, guiding your hips back towards him. Eddie just chuckles, before you hear him noisily suck your arousal from his fingers.

“Y-Yes, Eddie. Just please, fuck me,” you cry.

While you can’t see him, you know he’s grinning like a madman. Any further plans of begging disappear when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds. As much as he’d love to continue teasing you, his own impatience takes over and he slides into you with one hard thrust.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s fucked you, you still feel so full. Stretched out beyond belief— it nearly takes your breath away.

Eddie doesn’t give you much warning before he’s snapping his hips back into yours. The sudden motion causes your head to lull forward and rest against the console. Your walls practically suck him in deeper, and he enjoys the pathetic little noises that leave you as he continues to slam into you.

“Fuck— you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Eddie uses your bound wrists to pound into you harder, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, that band getting tighter as he continues his ruthless pace.

“You gonna cum already? Such a little slut…” he nearly growls, “Go on, do it. Let’s see how many times you can make a mess on my cock.”

Between his words and the constant pounding into your g-spot is what tips you over the edge, feeling your knees wobble from the force of your orgasm. Eddie begins to slow his pace, letting you ride the waves a little before he slips one of his hands between you to gently rub at your clit.

Your soft whimpers only seem to spur him on further, keeping a steady pace. But he rams into you so deeply, you swear you can feel him in your throat. Despite how slightly overstimulating the feeling is… it’s too good to stop. And you’d do anything to show Eddie how good you can actually be.

“That’s it… feels good, baby?”

You let out a small but breathy ‘uh huh’, that being the only response you can muster at this point. One orgasm has turned your brain to mush, and all you can think or feel is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Your response has him chuckling, as the male continues to rock his hips into yours. He loves getting you to this point, so drunk on his cock that you can’t form a coherent sentence. His fingers start to pick up their pace against your bundle of nerves, feeling how your walls clench even tighter around him.

While he wants to fill you up so badly, he also wants to see how far he could push you. It was only fair.

“Wanna show me you can listen, sweetheart? Give me another one. You can do it.”

You nearly sob as your second orgasm suddenly crashes over you. While not as forceful as the first, it’s powerful enough to make your legs give out beneath you. Letting all your weight rest against the center console. Eddie is quick to help guide your hips back up, and stops the movement of his own.

You can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks when he frees your wrists, finally slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact, but it’s not gone for long. As Eddie helps guide you into a sitting position, before carefully laying you back onto a pile of blankets.

He brushes the tears away from your cheeks, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Can you give me one more? Doin’ so good for me, sweet thing.”

You practically preen at his praise, eagerly nodding when he situates himself between your legs again. He carefully lifts your trembling thighs, his touch much more gentle now. He caresses your supple skin before he slips back inside you with a deep seated groan.

You can feel how your hands begin to twitch at your sides, desperate to reach up and tangle your fingers in his curls. But his previous warning rings in your ears, only good girls can touch me. Eddie catches the subtle movement and reaches down to guide your hands up towards his head. And a loud grunt leaves him when he reaches your deepest point.

“You can touch me baby, you’ve earned it.”

He barely finishes his sentence before you’re threading your fingers through his wild curls and tugging him closer. Until your clothed chests are pressed together and you can feel the weight of his ribs against yours. Your mouths meet with a soft urgency and his tongue glides over your lower lip before slipping past them.

His pace has slowed tremendously, all in an effort to cherish the feeling of being inside you. Despite how rough can be at times, this was his favorite way to be with you. With your bodies entangled in every possible way.

While Eddie may put on a tough exterior, he’s a big softie underneath it all. And you’ve come to adore both sides of him.

He pulls away from your lips with a small gasp, greedily inhaling your mingling breath as his chestnut hues meet yours. Eddie looks beautiful like this, hovering above you all sweaty and flushed. It's truly a sight you wouldn’t grow tired of seeing. He doesn’t let lips stray too far though, leaning down to press hot kisses along your jaw towards your neck.

The brunette eagerly sucks onto the skin of your throat, tongue darting out to soothe the ache he leaves behind. One of your hands untangles itself from his tousled curls, slipping between your bodies to rub at your overly sensitive clit. Judging by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, whining when you clench harder around him. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you has your head reeling, already so close to finishing for a third time that night.

“Fuck— I love you,” he pants, each slam of his hips becomes more frantic with his admission. “I love you, sweetheart.”

His confession is all it takes to push you both over the edge. Eddie’s hips stutter as he fills you, and your body arches further into his embrace with a cry of his name. It’s so intense that you can feel how his body trembles above you, and the stars begin to dance behind your lids. The weight of his words finally starts to sink in when he collapses on top of you, blinking away the tears that fill your lash line.

The mixture of your heavy breathing fills the silence and you gently stroke his curls while you both come down from your highs. Eddie must have felt your tears dripping down onto his cheek and his head lifts to regard you with concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You just shake your head, pressing another kiss to his awaiting mouth. But when you pull away a little too soon for his liking, he practically pouts. You just smile fondly, nervous fluttering in your belly at what you were about to confess. Despite hearing him utter those same three words only moments prior.

“I just… I really love you too, Eddie.”

The grin that stretches across his face has your heart thumping faster, your giggles soon fill the silence in the van as he presses tender kisses everywhere he can reach.

“Love you so much, sweetheart.”

The Hideout was packed, which seemed to be an unusual occurrence for a Saturday night in small town Hawkins. But the promise of multiple live bands quickly filled the seats that usually remained empty during the week.

Ever since you became official, you easily fit in amongst his large group of friends. Even Dustin, who was weary of you in the beginning, had quickly begun to warm up to you. But you had clicked with Robin the fastest and the two of you became very close in such a short amount of time.

Most of them had come out to support the band, besides the group of freshmen. As Eddie all but forbade from stepping foot in this establishment. His overprotective nature towards them was something you found to be incredibly endearing.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, snugly in between Robin and Steve. Mostly due to Eddie’s strict instructions to keep an eye on you. He could already anticipate just how rowdy this crowd might be from the moment you entered the dingy bar.

You anxiously shift in place, taking another swig from the flask that Robin had snuck in. You hadn’t seen Eddie for more than a few minutes since he dropped you off at home earlier that morning. And you were beyond impatient for the show to get started.

It was a little annoying how much you missed him when he wasn’t around, how uneasy it made you.

But the vodka was definitely starting to help soothe your nerves.

You continued to shift from foot to foot, partially from your growing impatience and partly due to the soreness between your thighs. The round in the van had only continued once you got back to Eddie’s trailer. He buried his tongue inside you while he showed you how much he loved you from between your thighs.

It’s as though the universe could tell you were getting antsy, as the lights on the small stage finally dim. You cheer loudly and the rest of your friends join in when the four males walk out onto the stage. They all take their respective positions, and Eddie slings his guitar strap over his shoulder and adjusts the mic stand.

“Good evening Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin. Thanks for coming out!”

A round of boos suddenly erupt from amongst the cheers, and your head instantly whips around to find the source. You see Jason and Scott’s whole crew leaning up against the back wall of the bar, a prominent smirk on your ex’s face. Your hands balled into fists and you quickly flip them all the bird before turning your focus back towards the stage.

Scott’s incessant torment had cooled off for a bit, but that entire week it was seeming to ramp right back up. While you knew your boyfriend could take care of himself, it still didn’t stop the fury from bubbling up inside you over it. Especially knowing it had only gotten worse because of you.

You find Eddie’s gaze again and he shoots a wink your way, not even fazed by their presence. They started off their set with a cover of Bang Your Head by Quiet Riot, already getting the crowd ramped up. Eddie was totally in his element, carefree as his fingers danced along the neck of his guitar. While they played mostly covers, they were able to sneak in a few original songs.

The crowd was overly enthusiastic, which was a nice change of pace from the five sullen drunks they usually had in attendance at their normal Tuesday time slot. While Eddie was riding that high, his eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

“Thank you guys for being such an awesome crowd, this is our last song.”

In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve come to recognize almost all of their songs. Eddie was always bouncing lyric ideas off of you, or playing them for you any chance that he could. But hearing the first few chords ring out into the bar, you knew this one was clearly new.

And if shit eating grin he was sporting was any indication, he’d been preparing for this moment. Eddie’s eyes drift from yours to the back of the dimly lit bar as he begins singing. The opening lyrics make your eyes widen in shock.

“Scotty doesn’t know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday. She tells him she’s in church, but she doesn’t go. Still she’s on her knees and Scotty doesn’t know.”

Your heart begins to race and that cocky grin never leaves his face. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you turn around, watching in amusement when you notice how Scott’s fists are clenched at his sides. This is by far the angriest you’ve ever seen him, and you can almost see the metaphorical steam coming out of his ears.

“Fiona says she’s out shopping, but she’s under me and I’m not stopping…”

A smug look graces your features when Scott meets your gaze, giving him a little wave before turning back to focus on your boyfriend. Eddie’s husky voice is full of confidence as he continues onto the next verse. That sound alone could bring you to your knees.

“I can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm right behind you thrusting. Fiona's got him on the phone, and she's trying not to moan. It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing…”

Your mind instantly drifts back to that fateful phone call, that night being a major turning point in your feelings towards the metalhead. Your whole body flushes at the vulgarity of the lyrics, but in an odd way you find it kind of sweet.

Once he has your attention again, Eddie blows you a subtle kiss.

“The parkin' lot, why not? It's so cool when you're on top. His front lawn in the snow, life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know! Scotty doesn't know!”

You watch in fascination as his fingers work diligently over the guitar strings, banging his head along with Jeff. The song aside, you really were enjoying yourself. Eddie lets his guitar fall to his hip, gripping the mic with both hands.

“I did her on his birthday…”

Your curiosity has gotten the better of you again, and you glance back to where Scott had previously been standing. The spot was now empty, much to your surprise. Scott was never one to back down without getting the last word. So you let your eyes wander around the bar, but Scott and his posse were nowhere in sight.

When the song starts to come to a close, Eddie and the rest of the guys have gathered at the front of the stage. Huddled together as they chanted a chorus of, ‘Scotty doesn’t know’, the crowd joining in unison. When you glance over at Robin, her grin practically matches that of your boyfriend’s.

While you had never explicitly told anyone (besides Robin) the details of how everything played out between you two, your ex definitely had his suspicions.

But now, one thing was for sure…

Scotty definitely knew.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh @mrsjellymunson @eddiesghxst @eddiesguitarskills @callsignraver @eldermayfield @potatobeans99 @loserboysandlithium @em0220

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

[pomefioredove]

Hi !! I love your writing! I think you've nailed the twst characters personalities really nicely <33

So if possible, I'd like to have some hcs Sebek, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil and Deuce would realize that they have a crush on the reader (in which the reader is basically their closest friend atp) and how'd they'd react to it. Would they be the type to shove it back down or get it over with? Something else entirely, maybe??

Hope this isn't too much. Thank you in advance! Take all the time you need!

hii first off thank you so much!! <3 and ofc ofc I LOVE pining (and friends to lovers?!)

pomefiore part

summary: how they would have a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, jack, ruggie, jamil, sebek additional info: romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu except in sebek's part because I found it funny, reader is gender neutral, deuce is a cutie patootie

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

oh, he is in utter turmoil about this

on one hand: he really, really likes you

you're such a wonderful person

the kind of partner he'd be proud to introduce to his mom

on the other hand...

he really, really doesn't want to mess this up

you already have such a great thing going on as friends!

if he ruined that, he would literally never forgive himself

and Ace would make fun of him for it until the very end of time itself

so, of course he just sits on these feelings. maybe if he focuses on something else, they'll go away?

spoiler alert: they do not

they definitely do not

if anything, trying to ignore them just makes it worse for him; suddenly he's becoming an entirely different person around you

it's like a switch is flipped the second you're in the room

he becomes clumsy, easily flustered, can barely string a sentence together

Ace gives him hell about it, of course

and when there's no hope of hiding it any longer, he just confesses

(not that it wasn't obvious already... but for his sake, you'll have to pretend like it's shocking news)

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥

he's actually... pretty upfront about it?

once he's got his feelings on the matter sorted, anyway

...which takes him a few weeks

when he first recognizes his crush on you, he pours himself into his training

not as a distraction, really; he just finds it easier to think when he's working out

he really does want to think this one through

much like Deuce, Jack understands that he'd put the friendship at risk if he were to confess

unlike Deuce, however, he's somewhat aware that ignoring and hiding is a coward's way out, and will only push you away

so, once he's very sure about his feelings, he confesses

it's not exactly like a confession, though

more of a... lecture?

just informs you that he's developed feelings, doesn't want them to affect the friendship, and leaves the decision up to you

won't freak if you don't reciprocate, but... he might be a little bummed out

okay... more than a little

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

first thought: he doesn't have time for this

Ruggie has a job, school, and a whole neighborhood to feed back home

now a partner? no, that's completely out of the question

besides, it's not like you'd ever reciprocate. who'd wanna spend every date eating dandelion salad?

no one, that's who

of course he doesn't bother asking, but he assumes that goes without saying

but he's busy enough to put those feelings on the back burner and deal with them some other day

...if only he wasn't so distracted by thoughts of you, that plan might have worked!

by his third slip-up, Leona's had enough and demands he's gotta sort out whatever's bothering him if he ever wants to show his face there again

(he might've been in a bad mood)

but, unfortunately, Ruggie knows he's right

it's better to be rejected now than to spend the rest of his school days mulling over it

so, he just spills the beans, as plain and simple as possible

tries to walk away as soon as he's done so he doesn't have to see the look on your face

you can imagine his surprise when you pull him back

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

actually has a pretty similar reaction to Ruggie

Jamil can't possibly fathom having a partner in a world where he doesn't even have his own freedom

in a sense, he just doesn't want to drag you into his life

in another, more important sense, he would be devastated if you rejected him

so he just... ignores it

of course, Jamil knows that pretending the feelings aren't there won't do much, but he doesn't really have a lot of options

he's not one to talk through his feelings, after all

not that anyone asks...

and his ability to interact with you as if nothing is different is astonishing

even if it feels like he's melting inside

though, you may catch him smiling more at you these days

he just can't help himself

when he's got his other stuff sorted, you'll be next on the agenda

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

you claim to have no magic, and yet you bewitch him into caring about you just as much as his liege?!

well... maybe not as much...

but close! very close!

even admitting that to himself feels like high treason

nonetheless, you have to be something very special to distract him from what he calls his "true purpose in life"

he sees you and feels... ill?

he's light-headed, he's dizzy, his stomach feels funny...

and he's been thinking about you more so than usual

yes, you're friends... he'll even admit he's grown quite fond of you in comparison to the other people you call "friends"

but this is... unusual

surely, you've placed some kind of curse on him!

Silver is the first to hear about it

poor boy is too tired to deal, and so he passes on the problem to Lilia

who just chuckles and makes a lot of odd references and metaphors that no one of this century would understand

no, Sebek has to come to the conclusion that he likes you all on his own

(like-likes you)

and after some pestering from Lilia, he admits that perhaps you and he could protect Malleus... together!

(he's going to have to work on the wording of that confession)

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: According to Baghra, there is only one person who can save her son. You—his first love and a witch who can control the powers of the Darkling. Aleksander becomes a prisoner of the Sun Summoner and King Nikolai, and you are to control and watch over him as he works for his redemption... but does he have the strength and will to continue fighting? And while everyone is busy saving Ravka from Fjerda and Shu Han, you're busy saving Aleksander from himself. Even though he doesn't want you around anymore... Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

"I don't like this," Nikolai grumbles as he, Baghra, and Alina walk deeper into the forest near Ulensk. "Wouldn't it be easier for us to just kill him?"

Alina tenses as she hears the howling of wolves nearby. She weakens her ball of light slightly and instinctively approaches Baghr. Ever since they destroyed the fold, Fjerda and Shu Han have become... more daring in their travels near the border. Something Aleksander had warned her about. She didn't want to risk running into one of the Fjerdan's stray troops.

"We are not like him. He deserves one last chance before we get rid of him." Nikolai sighs and nods. They walk in silence for a few more minutes until they finally reach a small clearing. Baghra stands, staring at one spot.

"Shine more brightly." She orders Alina and kneels down.

Baghra takes out a dagger and cuts her hand. She smears her blood across the leaves, mumbling words under her breath in old Ravkan. Alina and Nikolai look at each other uncertainly when suddenly the branches of the surrounding trees grow. They connect with each other, creating an impenetrable wall around the three of them. Nikolai reaches for his sword, and Alina instinctively reaches into her pocket for her amplifier. The fog thickens around them and the ground shakes slightly as a small wooden hut rises from beneath it.

"I'll go first." Baghra announces and stands up.

"No. We're all going together."

"She's probably not a big fan of yours, Sankta Alina." Baghra sneers, sending the girl a mocking look. "I better get her ready for you."

Alina stubbornly follows Baghra, ignoring her words and disapproving look. Nikolai reluctantly joins the two women, and so the three of them cross the threshold of the small hut.

They enter a living room full of bookshelves and various crystals. A fire burns in the fireplace, and the air smells of lavender from the incense burning on a table covered with various pots, magnifying glasses, and metal tools. The candles burn a little brighter when the door behind them suddenly closes with a loud bang.

"Millennium, and you haven't learnt to knock? Besides, I thought you hated draught." Baghra rolls her eyes at your mocking voice.

You push past the uninvited guests and sit down at the table. You sip your tea and throw the crystal into the cauldron, then set it over the fire burning in your fireplace.

"You probably know what my son has been up to lately?"

"Aleksander has always been an ambitious man. I thought we were all aware of that fact." Alina feels an unpleasant pang in her chest when you use the Darkling's true name when you refer to him. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted feelings.

"You call the creation and expansion of the fold ambitious?" Alina asks you, irritated. Baghra elbows her in the ribs, but she ignores it completely, giving you a stern, appraising look.

"And you probably think that destroying it was ambitious, right, little sunbeam?" You mock her without even looking at her. Alina doesn't like it at all.

"That was the right thing to do. That was needed to be done."

"Anything that helps you sleep better at night, sunshine. But you realise that now the Fjerdans and the rest will be entering Ravka as if it were their own land, right? If you think the fold was a problem for Grisha, just wait until all the kidnapping, rape, and experimentation on your people begins. I'd love to see what desperate move you will make next when you realise that your problems are only beginning, oh holy Sankta Alina of the Fold."

"I'm not here to discuss Ravka's future with you."

"You shouldn't be here at all." You state, and yawn boredly. You go to the fireplace and take your pot. You put it on the table and stir the dissolved crystal. You prepare a form to pour the mass, but first you add a few leaves and flowers to the substance.

"We need your help. With maintaining control over Aleksander."

"Oh really? Do you remember that time you told me to fuck off because I was of no use to you or your son?" You remind her, smirking as she clenches her teeth and fists, barely controlling her anger. "Besides, Aleksander has never been the submissive type... did it stay that way, Sankta Alina?" You almost laugh as you see the girl blush madly as she can't find her tongue at your comment.

"I… we never…"

"Oh really? Well, my mistake. And your loss." You say, winking at her and giving her a wolfish grin. Baghra clears her throat, drawing your attention for a moment.

"If you don't help us, they will kill him." You frown, setting down all your tools and turning to face the trio. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you carefully choose your next words.

“And remind me, why should I care?”

"I thought you liked your immortality." Baghra nods at your necklace. You wrap your hand around the small heart and swallow, examining her carefully.

"He told you?" You ask in shock, looking at the old woman.

"Of course not. It's Aleksander. I found out on my own." You roll your eyes and fold your arms at her accusatory tone of voice.

"Don't blame him for something you taught him yourself." You respond calmly, giving her a pointed, hard look. Baghra tenses and looks away from you to the crystals hanging above your table. The tension in the room is palpable as you both reminisce about old times.

Maybe centuries ago you managed to break through the wall Aleksander had placed around his heart and see the real him, but just as long ago as you gained access to the deepest and darkest part of him, you lost it long ago and quickly.

"Will you go with us?" Baghra growls, not meeting your eyes. You swallow hardly, thinking about it. You knew that there would come a time to right the wrongs of your past; you just didn't think it would happen so soon. Although, was 500 years a short time?

"And do I have another choice in this situation?" You sigh, knowing full well that it was time for you to join this great war the Summoners were leading.

Ravka needed you.

Aleksander needed you.

“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, placing small kisses on his neck—everywhere you can reach without taking your head off his shoulder.

You and Aleksander lie in the tent, listening to the crickets play their nightly tunes around you. You curl up against him, taking in his warmth as you both catch your breath after completing some... quite enjoyable and pleasant activities.

“How soft your skin is... just as if I were wearing the finest silk.” You snort at his words and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. You stroke his cheek with your hand, ignoring the prickly two-day stubble on his face, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

"Not that I don't appreciate your ability to fire off compliments so quickly, but I really want to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

Aleksander sighs heavily and pulls you to him. He kisses you full of passion and ardour, as if you hadn't just given yourself over to each other's desires a few minutes ago. You sigh quietly, allowing him to distract you for a moment with a heated kiss as he climbs on top of you again, trapping you in the cage of his arms.

You place your hands on his chest and reluctantly pull away from his kiss. You pull him closer to you so he rests his forehead against yours, and you inhale his scent, enjoying his closeness.

"I still remember my question, how about you?"

He sighs, playing with your hair. He closes his eyes and gives you one last, short kiss before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You sigh, lying pressed against his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. Aleksander plays with your hair, drawing patterns on your scalp with his fingers. He gathers his thoughts, pulling you closer to him and swallows hard before finally speaking again.

"I saw Ulla." You frown, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gently trace patterns on his arm with your fingertips, watching him closely as he mentions his sister.

"How is she?"

"Besides the fact that that idiot broke her heart? Very… lonely from what she told me." You sigh and press a kiss on his shoulder. He gives you a small half-smile and runs a hand through your hair.

"She needs time to heal. You'll see, you'll complain again that she and I spend too much time at the fairs and by the lakes and that she's stealing me from you." You joke, hoping to hear him chuckle, but he just sighs deeply, still haunted by thoughts of his sister.

"I asked her to return. To me. To us." He says thoughtfully and unconsciously tightens his grip on you, as if he were afraid that you might slip out of his arms at any moment.

"She didn't agree, I assume?" You ask quietly, cupping his cheek in your hand and stroking it tenderly with your thumb.

You want to give him all the physical closeness he needs. Give him every little reassurance that for now you're staying and you're not going anywhere. Or at least you hope to stay with him a little longer...

"Every person close to me, whether from my family or not, eventually leaves me. And never comes back. I'm afraid it'll be the same with her. I've buried a lot of brothers and sisters... but Ulla... it's different with her. I've taken care of her since she was a child. From the very beginning. I know she won't live as long as I, but... I'm sick of everyone leaving me."

"Ulla loves you. She won't leave you for long… I hope so."

"And would you come back to me? If we somehow got separated... would you return if I asked you to?" He asks, looking at you carefully.

In a heartbeat. You think about it, but you don't tell him. You don't want to give him false hope. Instead, you press lazy kisses along the column of his neck and jaw.

"Depends on how passionately you would ask me to…" You whisper seductively against his ear. A smirk appears on his face, and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a wicked, suggestive look.

“Greedy little thing.” He mumbles, nuzzling your cheek. His lips descend to your neck, where he sucks a hickey. You moan, exposing more of your neck to him and grinding against him.

“That’s why you love me.” You whine as he pushes you onto your back and presses his chest against yours. He cups your cheek in his hand, staring at you as if he’s trying to memorise and engrave every little detail of your face into his memory.

"I love you for more than that, little witch…" He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

A shiver of desire courses through you again. You pull him to you and kiss him passionately, digging your fingers into his shoulder as his hand wanders below your collarbone and cups your breast. He massages and kneads your body, plays with your nipple, and all you can think about is how good you feel under him, how he makes you experience pleasure so intense that you doubt you'll find it with anyone else.

You don't want to look for anything else. You want to be under him forever, intoxicated by the touch of his soft lips and rough hands as he takes you apart into tiny pieces, showing you the secrets of unimaginable and immense pleasure that makes you feel like you can't breathe anymore.

And you find yourself wanting to stop breathing if it meant that you would stay with him forever.

"From where exactly did you get your powers? Grisha are born that way, what about you? Has your family been witches for generations?" The young king of Ravka's question tears you from your thoughts.

"Why this curiosity, Your Highness?" You reply teasingly, watching him closely as you all rode horses to the capital.

You had been on the road for a few days now, and you were now leading them to one special place. Alina and Baghra, when they weren't giving you suspicious glances, were whispering to each other. Meanwhile Nikolai was trying to keep you occupied with conversation. He turned out to be a pleasant traveling companion. Not like certain women.

"A good king should take an interest in his subjects and know what kind of people live within the walls of his kingdom." His simple answer surprises you a little. The kings of his dynasty had a... completely different approach to this. Your years had taught you to distrust all monarchs, but this young king really did seem different from them all. You wondered how quickly he would fall.

"I am not your subject. I may live in Ravka, but neither I nor my family have ever sworn allegiance to the kings frim your dynasty. And we don't intend to."

"I see… so a free spirit? A woman of the world, as they call it?" You chuckle at this, shaking your head gently.

"You could say that. We sleep where we have comfortable moss under our heads, under the open sky with the stars as our guardians. I and the witches of my tribe are one with nature, with the earth, with what grows and dies on it. We are the guardians of the circle of life."

"However, not all of them decide to be in this cycle of life and follow it." Baghra points this out scathingly. You turn in your saddle to look at her for a moment.

"My immortality is no problem for Mother Nature, Baghra. Neither is yours. Nor is Aleksander's, or your little saint's. But it is in my care that the whole world does not suddenly become immortal. There is a worse evil in your shadows than you, volcra or nichevo'ya. And if I could go back in time, I would do the exact same thing… maybe just in a different way."

You shift your gaze from the old woman to the lakes before you, leading your horse onto a side path. You were not far from your destination place. You close your eyes and sigh, trying not to bring up any more memories of your past... any memories of HIM.

Yet, no matter how many years you have lived, you have never been able to contain your burning feeling of regret whenever you remembered what happened between you and Shadow Summoner.

"So? From where did you get your powers?" Nikolai pursues the topic, wanting to know the answer to his question. You run a hand through your hair and pull the hood over your head, realizing you won't get far without an answer. Autumn was coming. Cold autumn.

"The witches' coven I belong to accepts a new member every 100 years. In exchange for the powers the new witch receives from Mother Nature, she must sacrifice something."

"So what did you sacrifice? Your mortality?"

"No. She has sacrificed her ability to lie. She can only tell the truth. But do not be deceived. Even without that, she can conceal part of the truth and mislead you." Baghra answers for you. You roll your eyes at her, scanning the area. You smile when you see a familiar pine tree.

"I had a reason to do that. It was not an act of cunning on my part. I had to unless... that's not important now. Besides, I am far from a master like you, Baghra." You hear Nikolai chucklea softly as you speed up your horse. You reach the tree and dismount, sighing in relief as your feet touch the ground.

You walk to the tree and lean your hand against it. You grab one of the crystals you keep in your pocket and the dagger. You make a hole in the tree's bark and insert the crystal. You whisper a few words under your breath and sigh, feeling the wind on your skin. The water in the lake splits in half. You turn around with a small smile on your lips.

"Hello Ulla." You greet Aleksander's sister with a smile, watching Baghra turning pale from the corner of your eye as she faces the daughter she abandoned ages ago.

Best day of your life.

"How is he?" You ask Aleksander's sister when she returns from the cell they're keeping him in. The brown-haired one snorts, jumping onto your bed and taking your glass of whisky from you.

Today, your little group finally made it to the capital. The first thing Ulla did was visit her brother. She looked older than the last time you saw her. Streaks of grey hair were starting to appear on her head, and you swear you saw a few wrinkles on her face. Time had done its thing to her. Your heart ached at the thought that in 300 years, she might not be here anymore...

"Angry, frustrated, resigned. At first, I didn't recognise him at all. Those scars... and he... he doesn't have that twinkle in his eyes like he used to. Like... like he doesn't care anymore. He was excited to see me, but this... this isn't the same Aleksander he was before. I felt like a stranger was standing before me, not Sasha. Baghra was right. Something's wrong with him."

"I'll kill their little saint. And your mother." You growl completely mad at them both because of the state they brought Aleksander to and get out of your bed. You go to the closet and put on one of your grey coats, ignoring the mischievous look Ulla gives you.

"You still love him, don't you?" You roll your eyes at her and shove your hands into your pockets, making sure you have a few crystals there in case you need to use your magic.

"I forgot how much you love coming up with your conspiracy theories. Which by the way are very annoying."

"You're not answering my question." She replies with a smirk. She walks over to you and gently smooths your hair. You snort, pushing her hands away, knowing full well that she's getting you ready to meet her brother.

"It's no secret that I care about him. We spent a good few years together, almost a century if I remember correctly. Is it possible to just forget about someone like that?"

"I don't think so. You should have seen his reaction when I told him you came here with me. I thought he had a heart attack." You groan at her words, disbelieving that she was actually playing matchmaker between you and her brother right now.

"You told him?!"

"You go to him anyway. What's the problem?" She replies indignantly, walking back to your bed and laying down on it. You roll your eyes at her, and with a wave of your hand, the pillow she had under her head disappears. Ulla shouts at you angrily, and you quickly materialise the pillow in your hands and throw it at the woman.

"Because of you, I lost all the element of surprise that I could have used on him to get some information!" You growl at her angrily, grabbing and throwing away the pillow she threw at you. You jump on the bed and pin her to the mattress, laughing at her as she growls, trying to get out from under you.

"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you how he reacted to that!!" She screams from under the pillow you've started to smother her with. You lift the pillow enough to look at her face.

"How? He made those big, puppy eyes of his and asked you to free him from his cell so he could run to me and give in to his long-held passion and feelings?" You mock her as you climb off of her. You lean against the wooden bedpost, watching her try to catch her breath.

"More or less… he asked what you looked like, how you were, if we had met before… if you were with someone." She says maliciously, giving you a big, sly, wolfish smile.

"You're joking, right?" You ask her, trying to hide your surprise under a neutral, bored tone.

"No. Our Sasha wanted to know if you had someone for his place."

"Is that exactly how he put it in words?"

"Well… maybe not." She replies after a moment, running a hand through her hair. You sigh, shaking your head at her in disbelief. So many years, and sometimes she still behaved like a child.

"Ulla." You growl at her and reach for the pillow again.

"Okay, okay. No need to be violent. He asked if Baghra had also sent for you, so that you could fly in on your magic broom and stab him in the heart once and for all, or if you had found yourself a new more intersting toy, but hey, at least he was interested and asked!"

"Poor consolation."

"You know how Sasha is." You sigh in resignation at this. You bite your lip so hard that you taste your own blood on your tongue. You promised yourself that you wouldn't get your hopes up… Aleksander and you were a long-finished affair. No matter what his sister thought.

"I know him too good to have any illusion that he sees me as anything more than an enemy and a traitor." You answer and get out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to meet him.

"Where are you going?!"

"To him! A day without tormenting him is a wasted day!" You shout over your shoulder and close the door behind you.

You walk lazily through the corridors of the Grand Palace, as if deliberately prolonging the moment of seeing Aleksander, and head towards the second building in the royal courtyard. You sigh again as the majestic panorama of the Little Palace unfolds before you.

Looking at the beautiful, imposing building, you reluctantly recall the plans your Shadow Summoner made centuries ago.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming up behind him as he sits at one of the tables in the library of the town you’re staying in for a few nights.

Aleksander bounces slightly in his chair and quickly shoves his sketchbook and art supplies into his bag. You frown, wondering what he's hiding from you, when he turns to you with that damn distracting smirk on his face.

"Nothing important, milaya. Were you looking for me? Do you need anything?" He asks and walks over to you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead tenderly before he wraps his arm around your waist and starts leading you out of the library.

"Your mother was looking for you. She needs babysitters for Ulla again." You say, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent. You wrinkle your nose at the familiar scent of burning metal and sweat from his work at the forge. He laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him, making sure you don't pull away from him despite everything.

"I know, I need to take a bath. But I hope you will help me?"

"Taking a bath?" You ask suggestively, laughing as he blushes all shyly and looks at you nervously.

"No!" He almost screams and buryes his face in your hair with a groan as you continue to laugh at him. "Taking care of Ulla."

"Always. But first…" you start and reach into his bag. You pick out his sketchbook and run forward, looking for the page he was working on so furiously in the library before you spoke.

“Y/N, no!” Aleksander shouts and runs after you. A few long strides of his, and you’re pinned to the ground by him. You laugh and struggle under him, but your struggle is futile. He quickly rips the sketchbook out of your hands and puts it somewhere safe before he pins your wrists to the ground. "You can't look into it without my permission. It is... personal."

"Sorry, handsome." You say and kiss his blushing cheek. You giggle as he lets go and climbs off of you. Before he can stand up, you snuggle into his back and wrap your arms around him. Your nose brushes his ear as you whisper quietly. "But you're so secretive lately… you know I don't like to not know what's in that pretty little head of yours. If you don't want to talk, then don't, but I just want to know if everything's okay and if there's nothing steaming up under your skull."

"I'm fine… I just... I will tell you in our room in tavern." You nod at his words and grab his hand. He gives you a small smile as you both walk through town, ignoring the looks you get from passersby who witness your little skirmish.

Once you're there, Ulla runs straight to Aleksander, wrapping her little arms tightly around his legs. The little one cries into his pants, sobbing that she thought you had abandoned her. The sight breaks your heart and makes you want to cut Baghra up and roast him into little pieces.

Aleksander abandons his bag and embraces the girl in a tight embrace. He goes to one of the single beds and tries to calm her down, whispering soft words of reassurance into her ear that he will never leave her. You sigh and pick up Aleksander's bag. You put it back on the hanger and briefly consider peeking in.

You abandon the idea and head back to the two of them to join in the group hug. You silently worry about what your "boyfriend" might have come up with. You're afraid it'll be something for your ring finger.

A moment later, as Ulla falls asleep with her head on your lap, Aleksander returns with dinner for the three of you. His sketchbook is tucked under his arm.

"I want to show you something." He whispers and sets the food on the nightstand next to your double bed. He crouches down next to the sinle bed where the two of you are and opens the book. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands shaking as you take the leather-bound book from him.

"What is this?" You ask, looking closely at the outline of a grand building. It looked almost like a palace.

"I... I know this life isn't one of the best we could have... but it's still one of the best I've ever had. Of course it's all thanks to you and Ulla. I... I have a proposition before me. A very serious one. If I play my cards right, I'd like to build a place for the three of us. And for the other Grisha who are in need of their own safe place. Can you imagine? No more working in some shitty places, no more hiding our identity... it could be really nice, right?"

You sigh, gently placing Ulla's head on the pillow. You take Aleksander's hand and lead him to your bed. You both sit up slowly as you think about everything he's just told you.

"That... would be nice. But... Aleksander, this is a palace. The king would never agree; you know how he feels about us. Tell me you're not getting involved in anything dangerous." You sigh and place your hand on his cheek. He buries his face in your palm and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses a kiss to your temple before burying his nose in your hair.

"I'll be fine… but I'm tired of hiding. It's time to come out of the shadows… start using my powers and do something good not only for us, but for the other Grisha. Too many of us have died because of their stupidity."

"And I don't want your name added to that long list. Ulla needs you, and I'd rather have you alive with me, too." You mumble into his neck, holding on to him tighter.

"Is this your way of saying that you love me?" He asks teasingly, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers.

"That's my way of telling you that if you die, I'll find some damn spell or some other way to bring you back to life just so I can skin you for being such an idiot to get yourself killed."You growl quietly so as not to wake up Ulla and pull away from him to look into his eyes. Aleksander swallows, realising how true your words are.

"I'm not leaving you… not on purpose. I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I promise." He whispers and kisses you sweetly, softly, thus sealing his promise.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you. You fall onto the mattress on your back with him above you and surrender to the blissful feeling of his arms around you.

You try to enjoy this as long as you can.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door to his cell. Sankta Alina and her king Nikolai have taken pity on him enough to set up cells for him in his former general's quarters. Of course, only after they've thoroughly searched the room. Such a petty act of malice.

You take one deep breath and enter the chamber.

It's dark there. Terribly dark. You can barely see your fingers as you close the door behind you. You reach for the crystal in your pocket and pull it out, holding it like a torch. You mutter the appropriate spell under your breath, and suddenly light emanates from the gem. You sigh as you see Aleksander standing just outside the bars, already staring at you intently.

"Aleksander." You whisper, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling you get from looking at the scars on his face and the fact that he hasn't spoken or made a fucking move yet. Not even for an inch. You doubt if he even blinks once since you entered. The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate you and scare you away. "Did they cut out your tongue?" You scoff, walking up to him and giving him an equally crazy, psychopathic look.

"Will you ever learn how to knock?"

"You seem to be very aware of my presence even before I open this door. Unless you have so many guests here that you simply cannot tear yourself away from these bars?"

"Too much lately." He hisses in irritation through clenched teeth, at which you roll your eyes.

"Hmm… good thing I'm not your guest." You say sarcastically and wave your hand, teleporting one of the chairs from his cell/chamber to the other side of the bars. You sit comfortably in front of him with the light-emitting crystals in your lap and just look at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I guess if I don't do this, you'll never get out of here, so there you go. Why are you here?" He asks after a long moment of silence, sighing as he finally gives up.

"I have been given a task by Their Royal Highnesses." You scoff, watching as the frown on his forehead deepens as he ponders the hidden meaning behind your words. "Aren't you curious what it might be?"

"With their brains? No big deal, I suppose." He mocks them and steps away from the bars. He pours himself a glass of whisky and sits down at a table with maps spread out on it. You raise an eyebrow at how... convenient he is. You don't remember the guest room they assigned you having such comforts.

"Yet they have locked you up here… without powers I suppose? I cannot feel your shadows." You see his fingers tighten angrily around the glass. You make a mental note that this is clearly not a pleasant topic for him.

"Still have that pendant?" He asks, nodding at you when he spots your heart-shaped pendant. You tense up and pull your knees to your chest, blocking his view of the necklace.

"Apparently. Would I be here if I didn't have it?" You answer carefully, fully aware of the game you're playing with Aleksander now. Everything you said was meant to hurt the other, to prove that you weren't impressed at all by being in the other's presence again. Even if you both had some... strong feelings at the sight of the other, you wouldn't admit it.

All that mattered now was who would win and hit the hardest, breaking the mask of indifference that you both tried so hard to keep on your faces... although his eyes tell you a little that your presence here isn't so irritating and indifferent to him at all.

"Of course not. After all you don't have a heart of your own."

You smile, trying not to show how his words really affected you. You internally regret that he went from being the person you trusted with all your worries to someone you wouldn't let see even a glimmer of pain in your eyes.

"Ouch. That hurt. And here I tried to be nice and inform you that for now on I am your guard and I oversee your resocialization process."

"I beg you pardon?" He asks in shock as you casually play with the gem in your hands. Aleksander watches closely as the light from it reflects off your fingers, face, chin, cheeks, lips…

"Just like you heard, honey. We'll be spending more time together again, aren't you happy?" You reply with a mocking smile and watch him carefully, gauging how he reacts to this new message.

"Resocialization? Does the fact that I wanted to help Grisha make me some kind of criminal from Ketterdam?"

"Words of Sankta Alina, not mine. Your ex probably doesn't like you very much. And from what I heard, you started destroying villages. You know who used such practices, right?" At the reference to his mother, he becomes even more gloomy. You get the feeling that if he could still control his shadows, he would at that very moment engulf the room in total darkness.

"Alina is not my ex." He merely comments as he adjusts the fastenings of his all-black kefta.

"My bad."

He stares at you for a long moment. You feel your skin burn where his eyes linger a little longer. You take advantage of that time to watch him too, searching for any slight changes in him since you last saw him.

"You, of all people, are supposed to lead me to the good, righteous path? This is ridiculous." You snort, also amused by the absurdity of this situation. Out of the two of you, N had always been the more... righteous one. Ironically, you were the one who was supposed to dig up the last remnants of his morality.

"Well, for some reason they want you alive. And they want you to cooperate. I'm supposed to be… a go-between in all of this mess."

"More like an infernal messenger of the devil." You smile, shaking your head. Aleksander tries to ignore the slight flutter in his heart and the pleasant warmth spreading through him as he witnesses your smile again.

"You always knew how to give me such beautiful compliments."

"They are desperate, aren't they? Destroying the fold didn't help and now they don't know what to do and want my advice? Tell your masters it's too late now." He says, returning to the main topic. He stands up from the war table, and you see him heading deeper into his chambers, probably his bedroom. With a wave of your hand, you close the door in his face before he has a chance to leave the room.

"You know very well that I have no master over me." You tell him, standing up from the chair as he slowly turns to face you.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you Y/N?" He asks, slowly approaching you. You shiver when you hear your name on his tongue. You clench your hands behind you as he slowly approaches you. The tension in the room is immense as you both stand as close to the bars as you can.

"Well, apparently neither do you." You whisper, trying to ignore the way he smelled so wonderful, how in an instant his closeness and the warmth he radiated made you feel at home again. How much you wanted to sink back into his arms and his sheets…

"Why are you here?" He asks, but is met only by your silence and a cold gaze that almost makes him tremble. "Don't you have other things on your mind? You're not going to tell me that this is only for my sake? I know perfectly well that you wouldn't return if I asked you. So why did you listen to my mother and also bring Ulla?"

"You don't know if I would come back. You never asked." You respond, your voice barely above a quiet purr. There’s a long silence after your words. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the bars—dangerously close to your cheek.

"And are you surprised?"

"No. Actually, I am not."

You examine the scars on his face and barely manage to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between the bars and tracing them with your fingertips. Aleksander holds his breath, his lips twitching as he resists any movement under your watchful gaze.

He fights with himself not to reach for you and brush his fingers against your soft, velvety skin, or check that you're actually here in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, reminding him how dangerous you are and that he can't trust you like he did. Which doesn't change the fact that he wants it so much.

"Gently, Ivan." You frown, not understanding what he means.

"What..." You're not allowed to finish. You feel your heartbeat slow down, and you slip into unconsciousness, only noticing the red and black kefta of one of his heartrenders out of the corner of your eye.

Your vision blurs, you slowly fall asleep, and all you can see before you collapse into the heartrender's arms are Aleksander's black eyes.

The son of a bitch ordered one of his men to put you to sleep and carry you out of his cell. Bastard.

[sanakimohara]

“SUREAL SATISFACTION” K. S. Pt. 2

…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.

"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.

You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues. 

It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.

Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…

A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.

"Sign for it."

That's all he had asked you to do…

However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it. 

The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.

You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.

You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.

For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.

Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.

Elation. 

That's what coursed through you.

You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.

With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.

Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.

You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.

Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…

That was enough motivation for you.

It was all you needed.

"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.

"Click"

The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.

You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.

Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.

Coming once should be enough….

One… I only need to come once.

That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.

The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.

All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….

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

"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."

He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"

Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.

"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.

"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.

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

His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.

Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.

The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.

"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'

It's been so long. 

You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….

God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.

Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….

You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.

You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.

Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.

He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.

"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.

"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.

Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.

"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.

You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.

You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.

A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.

The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.

He'd waited for this long enough. 

You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.

"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.

The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.

He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.

"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."

You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.

"F-fine, what do you want?!.."

He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.

"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.' 

"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.

"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.

"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"

You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Yes…sir."

Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.

"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"

Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.

You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…

"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."

He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.

You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.

Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.

"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.

He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.

"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.

Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.

You. And only you…

Mind, body, & soul. 

+++++++++

TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤

I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤

[yanderelionwrites]

I'm Not Sad, Just Tired - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity, Stockholm Syndrome slowly setting in perhaps? 👀

Word Count: 1.1k

(Kind of a part 2 to this but I think this can be read on its own)

It’s another banquet you couldn’t care less about.

You had been strongly encouraged (read: guilt tripped) to accompany Leona to the event by his sister-in-law. And who were you to deny the Queen’s request? You sucked it up and let Leona escort you around, maintaining as far of a distance you could get away with while having your hand placed on his arm.

It’s obvious why Leona was so intent on ditching. This party blows. 

You can’t recall what the celebration is even for. It was most likely for some diplomatic reason, though you’re pretty sure the king just likes throwing parties at this point. Either way, it has only been an hour and you are already tired of it.

The guests had finished eating and were now dancing the night away. You manage to lose Leona in the crowd, taking this chance to be alone and heading out of the venue. You can’t take another minute rubbing elbows with these people.

The palace’s hallway is silent, save for the muffled music coming from the party and the clicking of your shoes against the tiled floor. You stroll down the corridor, not heading anywhere in particular. You just need to clear your head and get some fresh air.

Stumbling upon the palace’s courtyard, you find a bench to rest at. There’s a sense of tranquility here; it’s the perfect place to take a break from faking a smile for all of the Afterglow Savanna. It also gives a nice view of the night sky up above.

You’re enjoying the peace until you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. At first you think it’s Leona, the man who is persistent in keeping you next to him, but the steps sound too light.

Turning around, you see little prince Cheka trying to creep up on you. His big, brown eyes widen in astonishment when you take notice of him and he slightly pouts.

“Awww! I wanted to surprise you! I thought I was being so quiet too…” Cheka whines, hopping up onto the bench to sit beside you.

“Wha- Cheka? What are you doing out here by yourself? You should have been put to bed by now,” you say, swiveling your head left and right to look for any of his attendants.

“I’m not sleepy yet, so I snuck out!” he admitted happily.

You sigh and shake your head, ruffling his hair. “Of course you did. If you don’t go back to your room, Kifaji or your retainers won’t be very happy with you.”

“But I wanna stay with youuu.” Cheka hugs your arm and presses his cheek against your shoulder, nuzzling it. “And with Unca! How come he’s not here with you?”

Grimacing, you shrug and try to brush off the subject. “He’s still at the banquet. Now you should really go back to bed, Cheka-”

The cub ignores your request and plops his head on your lap. Curling up so he can still see your face, he asks, “Do you like Unca Leona?”

Where did that come from? You tense and avoid his curious stare, opting to gaze up at the stars. “Why do you ask?”

“You always look sad near him.” Cheka yawns and turns the other way. “Are you sad?”

Darn this perceptive kid. You don’t want to tell him the truth. You can’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t understand. How would you even explain to him that his uncle and everyone else in this palace are basically holding you here against your will? That his uncle, his idol, is a selfish, irritating, possessive, clingy, and manipulative prick?

Okay, well, he wasn’t that bad. He makes sure you’re as comfortable as you can be here. And he’s been fairly patient with you even after all the crap you have spewed at him. But still. Not the point.

“I’m not sad, sweetheart,” you lie. “It’s just…complicated.”

“Unca really loves you. And me, Mama, and Papa love you too! So don’t be sad, okay?”

Easier said than done.

You remain silent, petting his hair to try and lull him to sleep. It works like a charm, with Cheka’s soft snores being heard not too long after.

“So this is where you ran off to. You know, it kind of hurts when you decide to up and ditch me like that.”

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Your small reprieve from Leona is cut short as he stalks into your field of vision. His neutral expression turns into one of slight annoyance at seeing Cheka curled up on your lap.

“Great. I see the little furball has escaped his room once again. Kid never fails to give me a headache.” His voice is just above a whisper so as not to arouse the sleeping child. He knows that if Cheka did wake up now, he’d never fall back asleep.

“We should take him to his room before anyone freaks out about him missing,” you sigh. You move to pick up the young prince, but Leona stops you.

 “I’ll carry him,” he resigns, taking him from your lap.

Trailing after Leona down the hall, you can’t help but think the scene before you is endearing. As much as he denies it, he truly cares for his nephew’s wellbeing.

You two reach Cheka’s bedroom, and Leona sets him down against the massive amounts of pillows and stuffed animals that are strewn across his bed. After unceremoniously draping the blanket over his small frame, Leona leaves just as quickly as he entered. You stay behind, however, taking the time to properly tuck Cheka in and making sure he’s nice and settled. You hesitate for a minute, before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to the young prince’s head, whispering goodnight to him.

Leona watches from the doorway, a hint of jealousy swirling in his eyes. He feels a pang in his heart as he wishes he was the one you’d treat so gently and affectionately. That you’d kiss him goodnight, maybe even cuddle up next to him in his bed before drifting to sleep together. That you’d actually care about him like he does about you.

Your smile drops after you leave Cheka’s room, turning back to that look of disinterest you wear these days. You don’t meet his eyes when you point in the direction of where the banquet was being held.

“Well, I guess break time’s over. Should we head back over now?” you ask.

Leona stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks past you. “Nah. It’s not like we’re needed there. I’m turning in for the night.”

“Oh, ok… Well, goodnight then.”

That’s rare. You’re actually saying that to him this time.

“Yeah… ‘Night.”

And with that, you both go your separate ways towards your rooms. It would be another cold night without you or your love, but Leona will just have to endure.

He’s used to it by now.

~~~

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

[junipers-archive]

Paper Rings

Word count: 1.1k

Includes: tiny itty bit of angst to fluff, fluff, fluff, Spencer has been acting distant so you try to start up a conversation, ultimately leading to his confession about wanting to marry you but never finding the right moment

You were worried. More than usual worried, worried. Spencer had been acting odd lately, and for the past few weeks you had been trying your best to ignore it.

It was hard though, he had been distant, almost neglectful, his once cheerful and atentative attitude when listening to your day or the new book you'd been reading gone and replaced by a cool indifrence.

You were near to him now, sitting on the sunflower yellow sofa in your apartment, reading different books. But instead of being next to you he was on the other side of the couch.

In an attempt to start up a conversation you mentioned one of your fresher pieces of news,

"Hey Spence", He didn't even look up, just hummed.

You scooted closer, "Uh- I- Well you know my cousin? Marion, the one who got engaged a few months back?"

"yea" his eyes shifted up quickly and then right back down to his book.

"Well they finally set a date! I got my invite in the mail yesterday morning, it's in Hawaii!!"

"Oh, really?" he wasn't even glancing up now to seem interested.

Nevertheless, you tried one last time with enthusiasm, hoping he'd be kind enough to take pity and reciprocate even a fraction of it.

"So whadaya say handsome, be my plus one?"

"mhm." mhm. That's what your relationship had dwindled down to?

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you got up from the sofa, trying really hard not to cry. But there was only so much you could take, was he seeing someone else? What had you done to make him so upset?

But that was the thing he wasn't even yelling at you! You'd become an irrelevant part of his life without even realizing it.

By this time you were grabbing your things in a scramble, trying to get out, get out of the apartmentget, get out of his life if thats what he really wanted. When it occurred to you that he was still obsorbed in that stupid book of his.

And you had to know, You just had to.

"Did I do something?! What-Just tell me what I did Spencer please!"

You were standing before him now, waving your arms around manically.

"Y-Y/n, whats wrong?"

"I don't know Spencer you tell me! I mean first I thought it was a case you were on that had put you off, or maybe that we'd been apart for too long but weeks went by! Its been weeks and you still won't even look me in the eye when we're talking!" You fail in your previous attempts to keep the tears at bay as droplets fall down your flushed cheeks.

He was stunned but eventually he found his words, "I-I- that wasn't my intention, I- just- I-"

You were hysterical at this point, he couldn't even tell you?

"Look Spencer. If you wanna break up, just say it already!"

You were one second away from storming out when he spoke up again, catching you by the wrist and leading you down the hall to the bedroom quickly.

"Look I'm really, really sorry Y/n its just that- well it'd be easier if I just showed you."

You came to sit on the bed, arms crossed over your chest as if armor protecting you from being hurt.

He was searching through the back of the closet you shared, finally pulling out a shoe box. He sat down next to you, opening the box, where rested an old sweater of his that had been worn thin and a black velvet box sitting within.

He handed the small compartment over to you explaining frantically,

"I've wanted to marry you for a long time now, hell Y/n I wanted to marry you since the moment I met you. But I kept chickening out and for the past few weeks I've taken you to our spots to pop the question but I-I- nothing was ever good enough...I couldn't find the perfect moment."

he looked straight in your eyes now, which were watery, overwhelmed by the idea he wanted to marry you just as much as you wanted to marry him. "You deserve the perfect moment. And not being able to provide that to you, it tore me apart, so...I became distant, praying I was good enough but also hoping you's find someone better..."

"I-I understand completely that this isn't the time or place but when I saw that you were crying- I just I needed you to know that the reason I was being so distant wasn't because I wanted to break up, far from it! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

You opened the box now, silently falling in love even more as you gazed down at the your dream ring.

Finally lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you and kissing him deeply, finding your voice again as you pulled back grinning,

"You're an idiotic-genius, you know that?"

He only grinned back, "Yea, yea I'm fairly aware."

You slipped on the ring, it was perfect fit.

"Well...Are you gonna ask me?"

He shook his head, "You're gonna have to wait till i find our perfect moment."

You grumbled like a digruntled child, leaping back on the bed and guarding your ring finger as he tried to take it back. Ultimately he ended up on top of you, both of you play wrestling like children.

"Y/n. Give. It. Back."

"NO its my ring now! You can't take it back! You practically already proposed!"

"You said yourself, I technically haven't asked!"

"Well why don't I keep it for now, just until you're ready?" You were wearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him, he had pinned you down with his hands on your wrists.

"No way. What Would I propose with then?"

You craned your neck to kiss him then, albeit akwardly. "I'd marry you with paper rings Dr. Reid."

He had gotten admittedly lost in your sweet words, which you used as your opprutunity to slide out from under him, once more flashing you giant grin before running out of the room.

"Y/N!"

The afternoon was lost to him chasing you around the apartment as you chanted, "Paper rings dr. Reid! Paper rings!"

[bumpkinspice0]

No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.

AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut

Series Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 if you prefer to read there

_______

Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.

The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.

They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy. 

You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.

Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.

You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant. 

And that’s when Charles found you.

The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.

Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.

Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all. 

You stopped trying, but so did they. 

No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway. 

Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl. 

But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up. 

You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.

Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion. 

I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning. 

It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.

There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.

 Why was this all so scary?

You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens. 

Logan . 

You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too. 

You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying. 

You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.

You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his. 

Fucking creep. 

“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest. 

She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever. 

Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside. 

“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly. 

“What— Why?” is all you manage to say. 

Idiot. 

“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”

You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here. 

Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do. 

You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes. 

“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”

“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands. 

It’s not a car. It’s flowers. 

They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color. 

Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was. 

A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.

“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”

She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.

“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears. 

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”

“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”

Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway. 

Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters. 

You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay. 

__________

The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside. 

“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.

“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least. 

You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide. 

“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there. 

“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway. 

Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating. 

“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden. 

Asshole.

“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off. 

“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable. 

“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”

“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything. 

Scott hesitates before he answers. 

“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.

The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.

“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”

“And you don’t wanna do that?”

“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”

“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway. 

“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”

“Ah, wild-west style.”

 “Like I said… he’s difficult .”

“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice. 

“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”

“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.” 

Scott actually smiles at that one. 

“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”

You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least. 

“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”

He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him. 

“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him. 

“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”

__________

Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again. 

“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.” 

“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.

This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.

“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction. 

“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off. 

You’ll happily oblige.

Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it. 

“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike. 

“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements. 

Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.

“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.” 

To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug. 

“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head. 

“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger. 

Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt. 

“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”

You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way. 

“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”

“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head. 

Once a student, always a student. 

Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Both you and Logan protest at the same time. 

“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”

You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.

Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…

Fine.

With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.

“I have a truck.”

Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye. 

“I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.

You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.

“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”

“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”

He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.

“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue. 

To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly. 

“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.

“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you. 

“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.” 

Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious. 

“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes. 

Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you. 

“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”

You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.

Same concept here.

You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball. 

“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”

“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you. 

“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.” 

You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess. 

Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all. 

You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“How many?” he asks, emotionless. 

“Uh… let’s start with five?”

He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing. 

“Okay, what next?”

The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry. 

You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too. 

That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you. 

And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…

You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way. 

Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window. 

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”

“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.

“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile. 

“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”

The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like. 

“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”

He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.

It’s an olive branch. 

__________

It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it. 

You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised. 

“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble. 

“Funny, I could ask you the same.”

You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose. 

“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”

“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp. 

“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”

Well… if he was asking about you. 

“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”

“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”

“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.” 

When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Why’d you run away then?” He asks. 

“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything . 

“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you. 

“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”

His posture tenses. 

“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”

“Where were you born?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay, where’d you grow up?”

“Same answer.”

“Did you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story… but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”

You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be. 

The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one. 

“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”

He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.

“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue. 

“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”

You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches. 

You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan. 

“To the class fuck ups then.”

__________

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck. 

Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either. 

So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott. 

But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.

And he didn’t mind one bit. 

He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately. 

He recognized what you were doing right away. 

Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles. 

And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.

You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation. 

He liked it… having someone to talk to. 

You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion. 

“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine. 

“Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.” 

You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk. 

“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”

He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs. 

Thank god. 

“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.” 

“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight. 

“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers. 

“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now. 

“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”

He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state. 

“I’m very scary.”

You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”

“I don’t hate flowers.”

“Right… just my flowers.”

“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away. 

“You need anything else, darlin’?”

“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.

“Stop what?”

“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”

He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more. 

“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight. 

He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too. 

“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.

“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”

“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.” 

He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him. 

__________

[bandgie]

During the Party

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

a/n: second part to this post

synopsis: Seeing you get hit on by Yeonjun during a frat party makes Kai do things he knows he'll regret. You take this opportunity to test to see how far Kai is willing to go to please you, at the expense of his dignity.

warnings: MDNI 18+, semi-public oral (f receiving),, Yeonjun is more involved, cum eating (sorry it's my speciality), jerkin off, forced!voyeurism, alcohol/weed mentions, reader is mean mean mean!, kai is just a wee lad, hair pulling, kai is referred to as a dog, idk that's it

3.9k words

Sucking Kai's cock became a way to pass time. In the library, the back of the abandoned buildings, the nearby park deep into the night. It really didn't matter where, your throat just craved to be stuffed with him. Kai was still hesitant, but after a few more times of cumming in your mouth, he let up his protests.

You couldn't do that forever though, and you were getting rather bored of your activities with him. It's how you ended up at the party Yeonjun's fraternity was hosting. The music was loud, the living room was packed with sweaty bodies, and your head was spinning from the smoke clogging the air. 

Your eyes were scanning the sea of bodies for your next fuck. There were a few potential candidates, but you couldn't find the energy to talk to them. It would be much better if they were like Kai. Easy, but not in the sense that they've been around. More like they couldn't say no, that they couldn't manage to stand up for themselves.

Pathetic. You've gotten used to Kai's pathetic self that putting energy into sleeping with anyone else turned you off.

A sudden pair of slender fingers grabbed your waist, and you opened your mouth to tell them to fuck off before you saw the familiar face. Yeonjun had sunglasses on, his hair slicked back, and a simple black tank top that screamed I'm here to get fucked tonight. You've messed with Yeonjun more than once, and his easy going personality made it easier for you to sit back and let him do all the talking.

He’d do for now.

"Funny seeing you here," a lazy smile sits on his face. You turn to face him fully, matching his smirk. "Funny? Why’s that?" You fold your arms across your chest as you regard him. He lifts his shades to rest them on his forehead, "You've been gone a lot. Ignoring my calls, ghosting me. I think this is the first party you've turned up to in weeks. That's not like you."

As tempting as it is to roll your eyes, he's right. You have been absent from your usual tendencies. His observations irk you, "Why do you care? Not getting enough pussy?" Yeonjun is quick to notice your clipped tone, but he ignores it. "Me? Not getting enough pussy? I don't think that's possible. You should see the chicks that throw themselves at me. Not that I can blame them, I'd fuck me too."

Now you're done with the conversation. His cockiness is something you thought you've grown accustomed to, but 'hanging out' with Kai so much made you favor the opposite. You turn on your heel to escape Yeonjun, but he follows suit behind you. "Come ooonn I was joking! Well...kinda. Honestly my dick has been lonely. I heard some horndogs going at it in a bathroom a while ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

You stop walking abruptly and whirl to him. "In the bathroom? The one in the library?"

Yeonjun's eyes light up, "Yeah! You heard it too?" You smile and laugh, "Well yeah I heard it. I was the one in the stall." Yeonjun's eyebrows go up in surprise, and he chuckles in disbelief. "Bullshit. Who was the lucky guy?" Rather than answering, you lift your hands to trail your fingers over his broad shoulders. He tenses for a second, then relaxes as your hands travel down to his navel. 

"How about I show you what I did huh? Wouldn't that be more fun?" Yeonjun smiles widely at your request and reciprocates your touches. He grabs two handfuls of your ass, pushing your body to be chest to chest with him. You can feel the heat that radiates off his body, the lust in eyes. This is what you need. Not some wimpy boy who eats his own cum on command. But a man who-

Another pair of hands yank you away from Yeonjun rather harshly. This person is bigger, thicker, but the way he's shaking is what catches your attention the most. Yeonjun reaches for you immediately, looking both confused and concerned. 

"Holy shit Kai? Is that you?" 

You freeze at Yeonjun's words. Then the body behind you begins to feel familiar, too familiar. You whip your head to see Kai's nervous expression. He doesn't even regard Yeonjun, instead locking eyes with you. There's no doubt in your mind that Kai is beyond terrified. Back in middle school, you and Yeonjun used to torment him. It wasn't until halfway through highschool that Yeonjun moved past bullying. 

"God damn it is. You look good man! I didn't even know you were going here, haha." For the first time in your life, you're thankful for Yeonjun's obliviousness. Kai's eyes shift to his for a brief second, "You too." There's no maliciousness in his voice, not even fear like you thought. He sounds worried, nervous, upset.

Oh.

The grip on your waist, the eye contact Kai maintains, his pained expression. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out why he's here embarrassing himself. Kai's jealous. He's jealous that you're here to fuck another man, that you've started ignoring him a few days ago. Though his hands are shaking, he's content with not letting you go. He’s so desperate you can't help but find it cute. 

It would be better to tell him to buzz off. You came here with the intention of putting no effort into your pleasure, but Kai's presence makes you ache for him. Like you miss him. It's a thought you shove far, far away into the depths of your mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to keep Kai for the night; he looks like he'd do anything to stay with you.

"Aw shit. Sorry Yeonjun. Me and Hyuka had something to do and I totally forgot. Bye." You don't stay to hear his complaints, instead grasping Kai's wrist and taking him to the other side of the house. Kai is silent as you both weave through the bodies of people. He doesn't say a peep when you open the door to the basement, closing it behind you two. 

Yeonjun and his frat brothers had a man-cave that was off limits to everybody. But being Yeonjun's 'special' friend gave you some perks. You made your way down the stairs to plop yourself on the couch. Kai stood awkwardly beside you, unsure of where to place himself.

When he does decide to sit next to you, you shake your head. "Nope. Here." You snap your fingers and point to the floor between your legs. Kai hesitantly approaches, getting on his knees in front of you. He looks perfect, like he belongs down there. 

You spread your legs open, hiking your dress above your waist to show yourself. Kai's eyes widen and he gulps, "I-this wasn't what I-" 

"You embarrassed me tonight Hyuka. Do you know that?" His expression turns guilty, a frown on his face as he nods. "You got in the way of me having fun. Acting like you're some boyfriend to me. Don't you think you owe me for ruining my night?" 

Kai glances at your clothed cunt then to your eyes. "I'm sorry," he speaks softly. His smooth voice makes you shiver with arousal. "Well," you look at him unimpressed. "Go ahead and show me how sorry you are." Kai's mouth opens to protest but you cut him off. "And don't give me that shit that you've never eaten pussy before. There has to be something you've learned from all that porn you watch."

He snaps his mouth shut and blushes. That's exactly what he was going to say, but it wasn't because he didn't want to. You've given Kai head countless times, and he's never had the opportunity to reciprocate. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he thinks about it, even dreams about it when he's away from you. There's nothing Kai wishes more than to taste your sweetness, he's just worried about his lack of experience. 

Still, you're laying yourself on a platter so nicely for him. He can see the outline of your clit through your thin underwear. Carefully, he uses his finger to trail your crevices. Kai's digit lightly drags up and down your pussy. You can’t help but twitch, your hips slightly jumping from the ghostly sensation. 

It's not necessarily confidence, but curiosity that makes him eager. Kai wants to know what makes you wet, what pulls the pretty moans from your throat, how your cream would taste on his tongue. He can feel the plushness of your lower lips. The wetness of your pussy sounds like music to his ears. 

His teasing touches get you restless. There's a part of you that tells you to wait, that Kai might get overwhelmed from his first time seeing a cunt. But the need in your gut and the way your hips keep thrusting upwards to hump his hand wins out in the end. 

You use one hand to pull your underwear to the side, shivering at the cold air. Kai's breath gets caught in his throat and his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. Your other hand reaches for your folds to spread them open. You softly hum at the intensity of Kai's stare, pulling at your pussy a little harsher. 

"You like it Hyuka? You ever seen a pussy this close before?" You sound a little breathless, but Kai finds that insanely attractive. "Never...it's beautiful." The warmth of his breath on your cunt makes you whimper. 

The compliment doesn't fail to give you little butterflies in your stomach. "Oh yeah? I think it tastes better than it looks." To prove your point, you use the hand that was stretching you open to collect your juices. Kai's eyes never leave your hand even as you place your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. 

His Adam's apple bobs and his eyes twinkle like a kid seeing their favorite ice cream. You exaggeratedly moan as you taste yourself, "Your turn." Without waiting for Kai's response, you grip the back of his head and force him into your cunt.

There's no protesting or hesitation once his lips are on your aroused ones. He buries his face between your legs and his arms wrap around the underside on your thighs. Kai's a little too enthusiastic with his aggressive licks, but his little grunts make up for his lack of experience. 

He's never tasted anything so good. Kai was thinking that it might taste like his own cum but he could not be more wrong. Your flavor is a natural musk that has him straining in his pants already. If this is how you tasted all the time, Kai thinks there couldn't be a day where he wouldn't eat you out. 

His tongue flicks at your nub on occasion, but he seems to be focusing on your entrance instead. You keep a firm grip on the top of his head and guide him back up to your clitoris. "Here Hyuka. Don't make me tell you again." Kai nods at your order and centers at your sweet spot. 

You don't bother looking away from Kai. It might be a little too intimate to keep eye contact while he laps at your cunt, but you love seeing him so pliant. It's a huge power trip you've accepted when giving him head. It didn't matter who was on their knees, you both knew who was in control.

Kai was a quick learner. He figures out you really like when his nose brushes against your bud while his tongue lapps deeper into you. Your hips start grinding on his face, and his heart swells with pride. It feels good knowing Kai could do this to you. Even if you were mean to him, he still felt like he owed you this pleasure.

There's no way Kai's face is still dry after dragging it up and down your pussy. He doesn’t seem to care about how dirty he gets, only that you chased the high you've been neglecting yourself from. You don't care about how loud you're being either. Not that it matters anyway, the hollering from upstairs is enough to cover up your sounds. 

The first signs of your orgasm course through your body. Your legs tense around him and you throw your head back. "Ah~Hyuka, don't stop. Feels so good." Kai doubles down, knowing there’s no way he could get tired of your taste no matter how many times you came on his tongue.

Your cunt starts contracting around nothing, longing to be stuffed. You close your eyes and imagine how Kai's cock would fill you up so nicely. He might be pretty sloppy with his thrusts, but it would get the job done in making you cream around him. As much as you want him inside you, you know that you both would reach the point of no return if that happens. 

Your obsession would turn into something you don't think you're ready for. 

Instead, you'll have to settle for asking for his finger. He might struggle in the beginning, but he'll get the hang of it.

"Hyuka," you try and steady your voice. "Finger m-" You're cut short by footsteps descending the steps. Kai tries to rip himself from you, but you slam your thighs shut to keep him in place. He struggles for a second, but the feeling of your soft skin surrounding him pacifies him. 

Familiar orange hair peeps from the stairs as Yeonjun makes his way down. He looks at you surprised for a moment, then his eyes travel to the hostage between your legs. Being the dramatic person he is, Yeonjun jumps at the sight. "What's going on here?"

Kai stiffens at Yeonjun's voice, and he looks at you pleadingly. As if saying get him out of here please. You turn your attention back to Yeonjun and shrug, "Nothin'. I'm kinda busy right now." Rather than taking the cue and leaving, he goes down the remaining stairs and slowly walks over to you. He lifts his sunglasses to rest on his head, "Doesn't look like nothing. Who ya suffocating down there?"

Once something grabs Yeonjun's interest, it's practically impossible to get rid of him. There's nothing you can do other than watch Yeonjun plop himself on the couch beside you. He shows no shame in staring at Huening Kai between your legs. Yeonjun lets out a little chuckle, "So is this what you and Kai had to do?"

You nod, pushing the hair from Kai's face. His eyes have welled up with tears and his cheeks a bright pink. From oxygen deprivation or embarrassment, you aren't sure. 

Yeonjun's eyes never leave Kai's face, darting from your pussy and his wet face. "Well don't let me stop you, carry on," it's only amusement in Yeonjun's voice. 

You can feel your heart drumming in your chest, and the little trembles in Kai's hands. You've never tried to explore having sex in front of someone, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't intrigue you. The thought of Yeonjun's eyes and Kai's mouth on you is exhilarating, and you can feel your cunt throb in excitement. 

"You heard the man Hyuka. Go ahead." You spread your legs and allow Kai to take in a deep breath. He takes a few gulps of air before he shakes his head. "I can't." He speaks so softly, as if he would break if he said it any louder. 

One of your eyebrows raise from his refusal. It's been a while since Kai has denied you, and you don't really have the time to play into it right now. You were torn from your orgasm minutes ago, your high was still nestling in your stomach waiting to be released. 

"You can't?" You question. "What do you mean you can't?"

Kai doesn't answer you, insistent on shaking his head as his response. You groan and roll your eyes, I don't have time for this bullshit.

"Yeonjun," you call to the man beside you. "You'll eat my pussy won't you?" Before Yeonjun has the opportunity to respond, Kai immediately begins to protest. "Wait! I can do it. I can, I'm sorry." His eyes lock with yours, pleading. His quick obedience makes you shiver, and you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"You keep saying you're sorry, but I dunno if you mean it," you tsk. "We have a guest Hyuka, it's rude to keep him waiting."

"I am sorry! I didn't mean it." His words are mumbled as Kai places his lips back on your core. You hum at the warmth of his mouth, lifting your hips up to chase the heat. 

Kai isn't as aggressive, most likely nervous from having a one-man audience. But his slower licks make that heat in your belly begin to gently rise once again. His tongue travels into your hole to collect your wetness and bring it back up to your clit. You moan at the flick of his tongue against your nub.

Yeonjun lifts your dress higher and spills your tits from your bra. Your hazy eyes look into his and he licks his lips hungrily. The tension in his jeans gets the better of him, and he unbuckles his belt to relieve himself. 

The jingling sound makes Kai peek over at Yeonjun, and there's a slight panic in his eyes. You notice this quickly, and cradle his face in your palm. Kai's gaze turns to yours, and you can see the ease quickly return back. The obvious effect you have on him makes your chest tighten, and you pray it's just because you're turned on.

Yeonjun grips himself and starts pumping his cock. Curses and groans leave his lips as he pleasures himself. The sight of Kai burying his face deep into you leaves Yeonjun yearning to not only spectate, but somehow get a taste of you too.

With one hand steady on Kai, you use your other to play with your exposed breasts. You tug and twist your nipples, jolting in Kai's mouth. Though it's getting difficult to keep your pussy in his hold, Kai finds his confidence to harshly suck on your cunt.

You cry out and try to escape his hot tongue, but his grip on you is firm. The stimulation is borderline painful, but the way you're flooding in his mouth is anything but. 

"Oh fuck" Yeonjun's voice startles you for a second, forgetting his presence. His cock is completely hard, his tip swollen red. "That's a good little fuck toy you got there. Listens to every word you say. A good boy huh?"

A lazy smile finds your face as you nod. "Yeah, he is a good~oh shit... good boy. The best boy...isn't that right Hyuka?"

Your praise makes Kai's heart swell, and he happily nods and moans at your words. The movement of his head makes his nose brush against your clit, and you flinch. 

Chillsbegin to spread throughout your body. Your moans are getting more frequent, the thrusting in your hips more erratic. Kai's head has begun to hurt from how hard you're gripping his hair, but he's still determined to make you finish. 

"Don't stop. Hyuka I'm gonna cum–," you whine. 

Stopping was the last thing Kai wanted to do, and he started wondering why he even hesitated when Yeonjun walked in. He was nervous at first, feeling like he couldn't compare to someone who has obviously slept around a lot more. But seeing your reaction and Yeonjun’s enjoyment builds up his self-assurance. 

"Shit, I'mma cum too," Yeonjun's slick hands play with his tip. You bite your lower lip and harshly grab the back of Kai's head. 

"Stick your tongue out." Kai obeys you immediately, letting you ride his face like a dildo as you reach the beginnings of your orgasm. Your hips stutter and your moans are choked when you cum. You squeeze your tit as your body tightens. Yeonjun's nearby moans coax your orgasm longer, making your legs tremble. 

Kai's face is completely soiled in your juices, making it easier for your pussy to grind on his face. His head follows your movements easily, not wanting to miss a second of tasting your cum. 

His imagination is nothing compared to what you taste like. 

He keeps licking you even when your hips have collapsed back on the couch. Kai shows no signs of stopping even as your moans turn into gasps. 

Yeonjun doesn't think he can take much longer, and he stands so his cock hovers over your pussy and Kai's head. The change in movement makes you focus your attention on the very close Yeonjun, and you yank Kai's head back. 

A loud smack sound echos in the room when Kai is pulled away from your sensitive cunt. He looks at you as if he's going to complain, but the loud groaning of Yeonjun makes him shut up. 

"Go ahead and come on me Yeonjun. Right here." The hand that was playing with your boobs comes down to spread your lower lips open. You avoid your nub while you rub yourself, still too delicate to be touched.

"On my favorite pussy." It's the last coherent sentence Yeonjun says when he cums. His hot spurts land on your lower stomach, your pussy, and the inner parts of your thighs. His thighs shake and he throws his head back as he continues pumping himself. You smear his arousal over your pelvis, bringing a finger to your tongue for a taste. 

You moaned around your digit, "Mmm, so much for me."

Kai does nothing but watch as another man defiles you. The jealousy is strong in his body, he can feel the heaviness in his chest. Still, you keep your eyes on Kai. He can see the mischievousness and teasing behind them, and for some reason he feels like you enjoy his envy. 

Once Yeonjun comes down from his high, he finally notices the mess on your cunt. "Hold on, lemme get you a towel." 

"That won't be necessary. You know what to do Hyuka." There's no resistance in his eyes when Kai sticks his tongue out to clean you up. You can practically feel Yeonjun's jaw drop, disbelief in his features. 

"No shit."

Kai's hot tongue promptly licks you up, collecting Yeonjun's cum. You can see Kai scrunch his nose up at the taste, making you giggle. His mouth travels to your stomach, your thighs, and your pussy as he wipes any trace of arousal from you.

"I've trained him well huh? Little puppy just for me," you hum when Kai rolls your bud gently over his tongue. 

"This is my favorite part," you say giddily once Kai has collected all the cum in his mouth. 

Kai opens his mouth to reveal the white release he's gathered. His eyes sting from the unfamiliar saltiness, but he keeps his tongue out to show you and Yeonjun his hard work. You purr at the sight, sitting up to grab a hold on Kai's face.

You squeeze his cheeks together and force his head to face Yeonjun who's gaping at the sight. 

"Swallow."

Unable to keep his eyes open, Kai swallows thickly. You can hear Yeonjun groan at the sight, his soft dick twitching. 

You give a few gentle slaps to Kai's face and peck his cheek. "That's my good boy~"

a/n: here's the 2nd part to the huening kai series! I hope ya'll like it! no idea what I'd do for the 3rd part, lmao proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!!)

update: third part here

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Six

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

(Got requested to make a Shadowpeach bot, thought I’d drop it here. And speaking of bot requests, drop yours here!)

“C’mon, kiddo. It’s a simple question. I’m not gonna get mad, I promise.”

You take a moment to think. There’s… a lot to say, isn’t there? Having known the monkey for just over a year now, there’s not much of yourself that’s been unshared. How many times did you bare your heart to this man?

…and would one more really hurt?

Swallowing the last bit of a white chocolate and caramel mooncake, you set down the stained napkin it was held in and throw the pastry back with a sip of tea. Deep breaths, now.

You’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, anyways.

“…you’re the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man’s heart crack before.

But there’s an eventual moment there, after the initial jerk of his body, after the instinctive clench of his hand, after the flinch spurred by the mooncake’s insides spilling onto his lap… that Macaque softens.

“…I am?” Is the first question, and his voice is soft, feathery and wavering. This isn’t what he expected. This isn’t what he prepared for.

What you’ve said slides far past the realm of all his schemes and carefully curated words, all his fastidious planning.

How could he have expected this?

You were supposed to respect him! Fear him!

But what you feel for him is- is a word he hasn’t said for a very long time. It’s a word he hasn’t even thought of.

Hotter than hatred. Deeper than despair.

Love.

The word leaves his chest empty, his breath spent. God, it hurts.

When was the last time he was loved? When, without hesitation he was adored? When he was Wanted?

“…kid. C’mere.”

Macaque doesn’t wait for a response- he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you flush, the thrum of his heart speeding up at the closeness.

You’re one of the only good things he has. He’s lost or destroyed or driven away the rest, all that was or could have been. Macaque doesn’t like to think of his sins- it’s easier to play the victim card.

If he thinks of Sun Wukong as the bad guy, it’s easier to live with what he’s done. To live with manipulating and betraying and stealing and trying to kill. If he throws all the blame onto the Monkey King, then Macaque can pretend to be a good person.

Paint himself white. Paint Wukong black. Ignore the unevenly gray reality.

And he can live with hurting innocent people and destroying their homes and stealing their powers and trying to take their lives.

(But something deep down knows and burns with the knowledge that he’s more monster than man, that he lost all right to be loved with the worst of his unrepentant actions.)

(It aches a little more that uncaring and unregretted deception is what led you to him.)

(He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anyone. And he knows that it’s wrong to utilize shrouds and veils to keep you in the dark, that it’s wrong to manipulate you, that it’s wrong to groom you into being his shadowy successor, into inheriting his selfish hatred.)

(But when has a villain ever cared about being wrong?)

Macaque rather quickly shoves you away , jumping to his feet with a fanged and glittering grin.

“Stay here, kid. I’m gonna grab you something I’ve been putting together, okay?”

With a curt nod you settle into place, taking the opportunity to stretch and yawn. You had been getting tired, and take this opportunity to reach for the lotus paste mooncake you had been nibbling on- only to find it gone.

Funny. You don’t remember finishing it.

And… there’s a blanket around your shoulders. Did Macaque put it there? You certainly don’t remember something like that happening.

Maybe things had just gotten so cozy that you drifted off for a minute or two, and he had left to fetch you the black and purple quilt.

That was probably it, yeah.

You shrug the weighty comforter from your shoulders, hoping to shake the supposed sleep from your eyes. In hopes of waking up a little further, you stride to the potted plants that had become a fixture in Macaque’s house.

Beneath the brilliantly blooming tansies and dahlias, red roses have begun to sprout and bud, colorful petals peeking from underneath their green sheathes.

Stuffing in a few spikes of fertilizer, you sprinkle the soil with a light dousing of water.

The thing that breaks you from the quaint task is the telltale chime of your phone, an old song playing loudly. But it doesn’t play very long- it seems your calls don’t hold for very long anymore.

———————————————————————-

Rumble and Savage don’t know much about the world yet. There’s a lot to catch up on, in this new world of neon and metal.

Little glittering rectangles that beam light through black screens and send sound miles away in an instant.

“Phones,” Macaque had called them, dangling yours by the bejeweled strap. Both items had been a gift from Mei, a girl you were well on track to becoming friends with. “Hit this button if it starts making noise. I don’t want anything taking the kid’s attention away.”

Seeing no reason to argue with their creator, both had wholeheartedly agreed to keep vigil over your electric-filled “phone” and hit the de-activating lever when it sounded.

Like this moment right now.

Together, they scrabble to unlock the phone, clawed fingers moving just out of sync as the two simians work to punch in your passcode.

Once it’s open, Savage rips the phone from his younger brother’s hands, boosting himself into your bed to put some distance between him and his junior shadow.

As Rumble tries to climb the bed himself in opposition to his brother’s lashing tail, Savage takes note of a little red dot in the bottom right corner of your screen.

An incoming call. From MK.

The elder of the two goes still for a moment, then snaps his claw against the power button harshly enough to leave a scratch through the metal nub. Angered by the mere sight of an enemy’s name, Savage slings the phone down and snags his little brother by the hair, dragging him into the shadows as Rumble squeals and struggles.

———————————————————————-

Right when you go to figure out what happened with your phone in the guest room, Mavaque rounds the corner with a bundle of neatly folded cloth.

“Running off already?” The simian lightheartedly asks, using his tail to snag your wrist. He doesn’t hesitate to drag you closer, pushing the outfit into your arms.

“Go get changed,” is the command he gives, before you can start asking questions. “Bathroom is that way, remember? Hurry it up!”

A push to the north, and you’re stumbling into the tiled room before realizing what’s happening. It seems sometimes as though your hands move of their own will and volition when Macaque gives you a command.

The garb is easy to put on, a black and yellow ru. Though you fumble the sash, the bandana comes easily around your throat. Black boots with gold brim. Red pants.

You look like a little “Mini Macaque”, or a very seasoned cosplayer.

“C’mon, kid! Hurry it up and come here!”

You stumble from the bathroom and into the living room once more, unsteady with the new gear. Macaque snags you close again and rights the sash, then flops back down onto his cushion.

He never been this excited before.

Something’s up.

“I want to tell you a little tale- come and sit with me, kiddo.”

Macaque pats the cushion nearest to his own, looking almost soft again. He’s already got the blanket in his hands, ready to unfold and drape it around your shoulders.

[laurents-laces]

Dumping my thoughts on the new aftg short stories here to contain all the spoilers in one place, because if I don't get to talk about them I'm gonna explode. Someone very kindly made a typed-up version of them here if anyone wants them!

TFC: David

We all know Neil is "distressingly single-minded about Exy" but I'm dying at the revelation that people in Millport knew this about him. He was supposed to be lying low 😭

Kevinnnnnnnn my boy!!!

"This is better. Easier? Better." Ouch

I had a feeling he was seeing Betsy more often than twice a year! And that we just didn't know about it because Neil didn't. That's amazing for him

Wymack is being such a great dad right now and he doesn't even know it

So excited to have one (1) canonical sentence from Kayleigh Day herself

I was headcanoning Kevin as ten when he moved in with the Moriyamas. I know nine is only a year younger but somehow it's breaking my heart a little more

Awww I always thought he looked just like his mom

I hope he looks a little like Wymack too but no one noticed before

I wonder if he ended up telling Betsy who his dad is? I don't think so but I'm sure she'd have kept the secret. Even though it would've been so hard to keep a straight face about it

"Coaches have no honor. Your word is enough. Just yours." I wanna hit every Raven coach with a very heavy stick, starting with Tetsuji. But I love how Kevin's always trusted that Wymack was different. He can be a surprisingly hopeful person sometimes. He's a little like his dad in how he sees the potential in people no one else does

Am I crazy or is Wymack talking about Andrew here?? Because it reminds me of the part in the extra content where Andrew keeps breaking into Wymack's apartment to rant about Kevin, until one day it's Neil he's more interested in

I always thought that Andrew agreeing to protect Kevin so easily might mean he was kind of into him. If canon unrequited kandrew is gonna be a thing then Andrew and Jean should form a Victims of Kevin Day's Big Green Eyes Support Group

TRK: Betsy

I'm so upset right now I don't even have words

It's so interesting to see what Andrew is like alone with Betsy. And I love that Wymack makes him feel safe

He loves his brother!!

"They cannot keep him. I will not let them." I fully believe Andrew would be down to break Aaron out of prison if he got jail time

"One week Neil had been the subject of some very grandiose conspiracy theories, and the next Andrew had only said 'He's Kevin's problem now, the end!' and refused to elaborate." That's the most Andrew response he could've had 😭

And he was so right about Neil being suspicious as hell! I need everyone to look back on the beginning of the year and realize Andrew was right about him

"Everyone knows now, Bee." My heart just broke into a million pieces

"Neil flinched. He'd pushed because he needed to see that horrible smile crack. He needed to know if Andrew was screaming behind the euphoria his drugs fed his veins. But Andrew wasn't, and Neil couldn't live with that. Andrew's medicine was too strong or his psychosis too twisted; either way, tonight didn't mean anything to him. This was a setback Andrew could sidestep and ignore." That part of TRK really stuck with me. It's a good thing he didn't actually try to act completely unbothered by everything that night but it still hurts to hear about

"I know what happened to you today was beyond cruel and that Drake's death will not undo what he did to you. I know our system has failed you every step along the way and that a part of you will carry that distrust and betrayal for many years to come, if not for the rest of your life. And I know you have done astoundingly well despite life's every attempt to crush you. I'm sorry," she said, trying and failing to catch his eye, "and I'm so, so proud of you." She just said everything I'm feeling, perfectly

Chaos and mayhem, or Blockbuster. These books are so 2006. I miss Blockbuster

TKM: Aaron

This was the first one I read and it took me ages to get through because I was laughing so hard. Aaron calling andreil's matching arm bands a promise ring broke me

He's such an asshole. I love him. He might not like it but he's a Fox through and through

"Exy this, Exy that, get a fucking hobby already. Oh, but I guess he did?" He sent a pointed look at Andrew. He's the funniest character actually

I've always wondered if he was a little jealous of a certain mouthy liar who has everyone wrapped around his little finger. Hearing that Ichirou chose Neil over his own brother must've been a wild experience

I also wondered if he actually had a passion for medicine or if he just picked the most respectable career path he could think of. It's so good to hear that it's really something he loves. He's gonna get his dream job and fix things with his brother and marry the love of his life some day, and I'm so proud of him

Neurosurgeon Aaron and paediatrician Katelyn are properly canon now! It's nice to get all these details from the extra content as part of the actual books

A few months ago, Aaron never would have imagined Andrew needed his approval. Finding out how important he was to Andrew was an ongoing, eye-opening experience. Aaron finally realizing how much Andrew has done because of him might be my favourite thing

"His father's people tore up his arms with a lighter and knives, and none of it is going to fade. He doesn't need to see those." Andrew Minyard you fake idgafer. You care so much. So much.

I wonder what would've happened with andreil if Andrew was in less denial about their relationship? I don't think he'd date someone on purpose while the no-dating deal was still in effect

"Andrew didn't want to talk about Neil with Dobson because once he broached that subject he had to either lie to all of them or admit Neil was more important than he wanted him to be." I love that Aaron understands this about Andrew

I love that the only other Aaron POV story we have also ends with him being able to tell when Andrew is lying to himself. The twinyards have their misunderstandings but at the end of the day they get each other

[scekrex]

I’ve had this idea for a while and I like your writing so I figured Id ask you! If you don’t like it, please feel free to ignore!! Can we get Lucifer’s reaction to sinner!Adam being with someone who seems to genuinely love and care for him. I always kinda saw Lilith and Eve as people who wasn’t into the idea of being with Adam in a serious manner (Lilith a lot more than Eve) which is why they turned to Lucifer.

I just find the idea of Lucifer seeing someone genuinely care for Adam more than any of Adam’s past lovers really fun. Like, would he be low-key jealous? Would he be happy for Adam (as much as he definitely would not admit it)

I also would find it funny of what Lucifer would think to Adam dating a guy. The first man, progenitor of humanity, Mr. everyone came from these nuts himself, discovering he’s bi waaaay too late into his after-life, and after he becomes a SINNER no less! I can’t help but chuckle about it

Have a nice rest of your day!! ❤️❤️

Okay so this turned into some Adam x male!reader n Lucifer being jealous over reader. Basically one-sided adamsapple. Hope you enjoy, xoxo/p

Part 2

Maybe you can call me Eve, standing here under the forbidden tree

pairing: one-sided adamsapple/Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

It was a little weird, that the devil had to admit, it was a little weird to see Adam so happy, so relaxed, so lovingly. Ever since the former angel had arrived in hell after Alastor's little demon girl friend had ended him he had been even worse than before. He had constantly insulted the residents of the hotel, whenever there had been the possibility to pick a fight with Charlie, Adam had done exactly that.

And it made Lucifer feel strange.

Adam was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him - chest to chest - his guitar was gently placed on your back as he played for you. Has Adam ever played for anyone but himself? Lucifer certainly didn't think so. Sure, he had played concerts in heaven, but he had mainly played for himself, for his own entertainment, so that people listened to him had just been a nice bonus. But actively played for someone? No.

And your curious, loving eyes were watching his every move, an adoring smile was on your lips and Lucifer's heart felt heavy at the view. The thought was small but it bloomed in him, the thought that this could have been him, that he could be the one laying on Adam's chest while the first man played for Lucifer instead of a random sinner. It wasn't fair, but Lucifer had already known that. Life - or afterlife - never played fair. Never.

“Dad?” Charlie's soft voice made him tear his eyes from the scene, her hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Are you-” she interrupted herself as soon as she spotted you and Adam and a small sigh escaped her.

Adam played the last chord and then proudly looked down on you, a cocky smile on his lips as you placed a small kiss on his stubbled chin. One of your hands moved to ruffle through his hair and Lucifer suddenly remembered Eden, back when it had been just Adam. Just him and Adam. Those times were long gone though, and the devil knew it, he knew that what they had back then would never return, especially now that Adam had you.

He was thankful that Adam had finally found someone, that he wasn't feeling as miserable anymore and that he actually seemed to try and redeem himself. And yet Lucifer couldn't bring himself to be happy for the first man, not when the person laying on his chest was you instead of him.

The fact that Adam was dating a guy didn't make it easier to deal with though. If you were a girl it would be different for Lucifer, that way he could trick his brain into believing that Adam was straight, that he had no chance anyway. But you weren't a girl and Adam wasn't straight. The possibility had been there, the possibility had been right in his damn hands back in Eden. The bond he and Adam had back then had been special, it had been a connection Lucifer had never felt again in that way. Yet Adam had always denied being queer once his soul arrived in heaven. The image of him kissing your forehead so softly however shed new light on it, Adam didn't deny being bi anymore, he had grown comfortable with it actually. The credit for that went to Angel Dust.

Why you? Why not him? That's a thought that constantly occupied Lucifer's mind. What did you have that he hadn't? The devil didn't know.

Charlie's hand squeezed his shoulder apologetic, she knew. Of course she knew, Lucifer had told her himself after all. He had told her about Eden, back when Adam had been the sweetest creation of God's, right after ducks, that was. A thing Adam had named. Adam had named most of the things, if Lucifer was being honest with himself, it had been his job after all. But when Adam had named ducks, Lucifer had been there, he had been with Adam when the first man had spotted a duck for the first time.

Oh how bittersweet that tasted now.

You looked over, spotting the devil and his daughter as you happily waved them over, Adam simply rolled his eyes in annoyance but remained quiet.

Lucifer tensed up, Charlie however led him over to the two of you.

Oh fuck him.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

ANGST WARNING: How would Ace!Tav react to Astarion dying and being unable to revive him? Or vice versa -- how would Astarion react?

A/N: There is actually a lot to this, so here is a headcanon in three parts. Apologies for the length.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Passively Suicidal Thoughts, Major Character Death, Heavy Angst

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

How Ace!Tav Would React to Astarion Dying and Unable to be Revived

In order for this to happen, it would be sudden and unexpected

There would be no preparing for his death

They always thought Astarion would outlive them, he's an immortal vampire, but, more importantly, he's a survivor, always has been

I'm thinking he'd have to be burned up in the sun or something else like it; revivify and raise dead both require a body and the sun would turn him into ash

Maybe he gets caught by surprise, maybe Tav can’t get to him in time or maybe he pushed them out of the way of a blast; the result is the same

No final words, no last touches, there’s nothing left, not even a body

Tav wouldn’t be able to move, the rest of the world going fuzzy at the edges and silent

It would take another party to get them to move, literally dragging them away from the scene like dead weight

It’s takes them several moments to come to their senses, to fight back because he can’t just be gone

There has to be something left, something they could use to bring him back

If it’s an ally with them then they’d hold them back telling them they need to get somewhere safe

They would be in full denial, trying desperately to think of something, anything, this can’t be how it ends

But there’s nothing, not a single thing they can do

Once that realization dawns, they just go numb

They spent so much of their life just surviving; they don’t want to go back to that, not when they finally had a taste of what it was to live

They’re just so tired, maybe it would be easier to just…sleep

Even the thought of revenge is too daunting, what would be the point? Astarion would still be gone. Can’t they just rest?

It would take their friends to pull them out of it

I imagine Lae’zel and Shadowheart specifically would lay into them about just giving up. What would Astarion say if he saw them like this?

Tag can well imagine, they can all but hear his voice in their ear

“And you call me dramatic,” he tells them. “Flattering as it is to know you miss me, there's still work to be done. Now get up.”

They want to ignore the words, but they have their own survival instincts to contend with

It’s a slow process

The first several months it’s an ordeal just to eat, but they do

Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, they all take turns checking in, making sure they’re okay

Gale maybe even has them come to stay in Waterdeep just to keep a better eye on them and keep them away from the memories associated with Baldur’s Gate

It’s a kind gesture and one that slowly starts to pay off

They're able to watch a sunrise again without the urge to weep

They sometimes come in to talk during Gale's lectures, recounting some of their exploits with a smile

They never fully recover, their music isn’t quite as lively, there seems to be a spark missing behind their eyes, but they find a way to survive

They have their friends and find solace in knowing they’re not alone

Eventually they go on the road again, taking in every sight and sound, imaging Astarion seeing it with them

They never fall in love again, they knew that they never would and don’t try to force it

Still, they live; it’s brutal work, but they can’t stop now

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying of Old Age Edition)

Couple different options with this one

I picture Ace!Tav as human, so Astarion outliving them was part of the deal when they got together

All the same Ace!Tav dying of old age vs. dying suddenly and horribly, are going to spark two very different reactions

If they die of old age, Astarion has a much longer time to prepare

There's no hiding getting old, even if Astarion makes jokes about them being with a man four or three times their age

Tav is there to help him through it, even as they're lying on their death bed with him beside them the entire time

They don't want him to try and bring them back; they told him as much

They want him to keep going, to keep living, to find love again after they're gone

Astarion doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to think about them being gone even when they both know it's coming

One human life time wasn't nearly enough, he wants more, he always wants more

But the end does come and when Tav finally slips away, all he can do is weep

He wouldn't be alone though, he has friends, strange as it might have once been to admit

Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel would all find their own way to help him as they too grieve the loss of their friend

He's not the easiest to deal with, he lashes out, he argues, he pushes, he finds himself crying at unexpected moments and mortified at himself for doing so

He wishes he could talk to Tav about all these emotions drowning him and ends up curled up on the floor all over again

But somebody is there to help him back up again

He can’t stay in their home anymore, too many memories bombard him every waking moment

Gale offers for him to come to Waterdeep for a time, but Astarion refuses

He needs to get out, go somewhere far away, someplace he’s never been before

So, one day, he packs a bag and just starts walking

The only thing of Tav’s he takes is a that damned violin, they did try so very hard to teach him how to play, but he always was a better audience

Still he can’t bring himself to leave it behind

He doesn’t know where he’s going or what he’s even doing, but he keeps going anyway

One of the nights, months into his travels, a bard plays at the inn where he's staying

He recognizes the melody, one of Tav's compositions

He had finally convinced Tav to write down some of their music, and even publish a few; this one isn't one of them

The bard plays it differently, emphasizing different words and finding a new meaning while still keeping the integrity of the song

He can all but hear Tav’s contemplative approval as they grin in that “I told you so” sort of way

The best ones live in memory after all

The bard is good, reminding him of Tav in so many different ways

He's not sure what exactly possess him to do it, but he offers them the violin, telling them that it's been a long time since he saw somebody play it properly, maybe they'd like a go

Gods do they play it,

Light and music flow from the instrument, evoking the same vivid display Tav had show him all those years ago

Astarion then leaves without a word, leaving the violin behind for the bard to take

He finally understands what Tav tried to explain to him, how much of themselves they put into their music and how even as the interpretations may change it’s still them

So, he keeps going, keeping their memory alive in what ways he can, mostly as an anonymous patron to promising young bards; he’s always been a better audience anyway

Years later he even meets that first bard, the one he gifted the violin; they turned to be a great performer and was thankful to finally track down the man who put them on that path

They form a true friendship, one that lasts years and allows Astarion to know he can form new relationships

Slowly, Tav's death doesn’t hurt the way it used to

They’ll never fully leave his heart; they were his first in so many ways

It would take him years, possibly even centuries to finally fulfill that final promise to love again, but he does

He’s a survivor by nature, but Gods does it feel good to live

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying Suddenly and Horribly Edition)

This can only end in blood

They're in a middle of a battle, something bigger and worse than they anticipated

Both are skilled in their own way, but they each know their strength lies in stealth and surprise, neither of which they have facing this threat

Astarion was sure they were safe, he was watching their back and vice versa as they had for years

He doesn't see exactly what happens, all he knows is one moment his love was standing in front of him and the next, they're pulp on the floor

Air leaves his lungs, the rest of the world fades as all that exist is their blood in his nose and their desecrated body and then everything goes red

He uses everything at his disposal, knives, nails, teeth; more blood fills the air, his body is covered in it to the point he can't even grip his daggers and just uses his teeth

He doesn't stop until the only thing breathing in the room is him

He then goes to Tav's body, and wraps what's left of it in any cloth he can find; he's not leaving them here, there has to be a way to fix it, to bring them back

He finds a place he can keep them, using what magic he can to preserve the remains of their body until he can find a better solution

He reaches out to any contact he has begging for help, surely their friends would come to their aid

What he gets is all but useless, no answers, no solutions, nothing but empty apologies and condolences

They even have the audacity to them him to let Tav go

They don't understand, they never could

After everything he'd been through, Tav was the first real happiness he found; 200 years of torture and just six months with them was enough to counterweight all that misery

He'd had years since then, and now they were just gone

How could anyone expect him to let that go, not when he had expected a life time with them

Their time together was already limited, he would not be cheated into giving up more; the world didn't get to do that to him

He curses his so called friends, burying himself in necromancy and tomes trying to find a solution

There may still be a way, a much darker way, one that would require sacrifice, but it would be worth it whatever the price

He knew that about himself the moment he started to fall for Tav, there was no telling what things he'd be willing to do, all for them

There is a part of him that hesitates, a little voice inside his head telling him to stop, that he can be better

It's the same voice that told him not to ascend, one he curses just as deeply as the rest of them

If he had ascended none of this would have happened; he would have been able to keep Tav safe, he could have made it so not even time could touch them

He had hesitated then, but he won't now

He'll find a way to bring them back and make sure they never leave him again