#Not that I run in the other direction if I happen to stumble over something

[wqnsho]

Can I request frontman x reader(Any gender) Where the frontman meets the reader OUTSIDE of his games, and then realizes he likes them?

(Sorry if I expressed myself a little unclearly)

soju | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after rescuing a stranger late at night. hwang in-ho finds himself sharing soju with the girl he just saved. under the glow of the convenience store, an unexpected bond forms, offering a fleeting escape from his solitude. *.✧ word count: 3.7k *.✧ warnings: happens outside squidgame, attempted crime directed at reader, drinking, mentions of death. don't go drinking with people you don't know alone btw, this is just fiction. *.✧ note: hello to the requestor! hopefully this tickled your fancy :P thought about it earlier so I decided why not? I wrote this in 5 hours, hopefully it suffices. shorter than my past works! also a different writing approach. masterlist | request here

༉‧₊˚. As the overseer of the Squid Games, Hwang In-ho has an insane amount of workload like no other. Setting up the venue, recruiting trusted employees, and scouring for rich sponsors are just a few of the countless tasks he manages every year. ༉‧₊˚. He’s a busy man, constantly on his feet, ensuring everything runs seamlessly. But when his boss, Oh Il-nam, forced him to take a week off, he was left with an unfamiliar emptiness in his schedule, unsure how to fill his time. ༉‧₊˚. Currently, he’s sitting outside a small convenience store, a bottle of soju in hand. It’s nearly midnight—11:58 PM, to be exact—and the streets are eerily quiet. ༉‧₊˚. The air is cool, the weather perfect, and for a moment, it feels peaceful. With no one around, it’s just him and his thoughts. It’s a strangely calming experience, though the loneliness creeps in at the edges. ༉‧₊˚. As the Frontman, he has no companions he can freely invite to moments like this. No friends, no family, and no one to share his burdens. ༉‧₊˚. It’s not a bad thing, he tells himself. After all, solitude means safety. Yet, there’s a part of him that yearns for someone to confide in—someone who wouldn’t judge him for the ruthlessness his position demands.

As In-ho took another shot, the warm burn of soju did little to chase away the emptiness in his chest. The faint hum of neon signs and the soft rustle of leaves were the only sounds accompanying him, a quiet solitude he had come to both expect and resent.

Then a scream shattered the night, sharp and jarring. It pierced through the calm like a knife, slicing his thoughts in two.

He froze, the glass of soju hovering mid-air. For a brief moment, he did nothing, his body stiff with instinctual awareness. But before he could overthink it, his years as a police officer took over. He stood abruptly, scanning the dark street for the source of the commotion.

Down the road, just beyond the glow of the convenience store, two drunk men loomed over a figure, their rough voices slurred with mockery. The figure struggled in vain, her cries muffled by one man’s grip.

In-ho didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. His strides were purposeful, his steps heavy with intent. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Let her go!”

The drunk men froze, startled by his sudden approach. One of them turned, squinting at him in drunken confusion, before muttering something incoherent. But whatever courage they might have had faltered under the weight of In-ho’s glare, his presence exuding a quiet but dangerous authority. Without another word, they staggered off, stumbling into the shadows.

The figure crumpled to the ground as soon as she was released, her body trembling with shock. In-ho approached cautiously, his gaze softening. “Hey,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

There was no response. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In-ho hesitated, unsure if his presence was more comforting or alarming. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, its fabric worn but warm, and draped it over her trembling frame.

“Here,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This’ll keep you warm.”

The weight of the coat seemed to ground her, and she finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of the convenience store’s sign. Her eyes were wide and glossy, a mixture of fear and gratitude.

With a steady hand, In-ho helped her to her feet. She was light, almost fragile, as if a strong wind could knock her over. “Come on,” he said, guiding her gently back to where he had been sitting.

Once there, he gestured for her to sit, his movements deliberate and unhurried. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment of reprieve, a chance for her to catch her breath.

“Thank you…” she finally said, her voice soft and trembling.

In-ho turned to her, his expression unreadable. “It’s no problem,” he replied, his tone calm but distant. “Just doing my job as a policeman.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, a ghost of a past he didn’t like to dwell on. But he pushed those thoughts aside. “What are you doing out here at this time anyway?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She hesitated, pulling the coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just came out to grab something from the store,” she said quietly, glancing at the convenience store behind them. “Didn’t expect to run into… that.”

In-ho nodded slowly, studying her. She avoided his gaze, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his coat. “What were you buying?” he asked, his tone casual, trying to put her at ease.

She blinked, then let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Just snacks. Ramyeon, chips… comfort food, I guess.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Comfort food at midnight? Sounds serious.”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just one of those nights where you need something to make it feel a little less heavy, you know?”

In-ho’s smile faded, replaced by something more contemplative. He nodded again, his gaze dropping to the half-empty bottle of soju beside him. “I get it,” he said quietly.

The silence returned, but this time it was lighter, less oppressive. After a moment, In-ho reached for the spare cup he had brought earlier, rinsing it with a splash of soju. “You drink?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Uh… sometimes.”

He tilted his head toward the bottle, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “Well, since you’ve already had a rough night, might as well join me. One drink won’t hurt.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and the bottle. Then, with a small nod, she said, “Sure. Why not?”

In-ho poured her a drink, the clear liquid catching the dim light as it filled the cup. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly as she accepted it.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little steadier now.

He raised his own cup in a quiet toast, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before they drank. The burn of the soju was familiar, grounding.

For the first time that night, the gnawing loneliness in In-ho’s chest seemed to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of shared company. There was no need for words—just the soft clink of glasses and the understanding that, sometimes, even the smallest connection could make the night feel a little less heavy.

༉‧₊˚. After three cups, In-ho quickly noticed that she wasn’t handling the alcohol too well. The slight slur in her words and the way she began to lean more heavily on the table after each sip made it clear. ༉‧₊˚. He felt so stupid inviting a girl with low alcohol tolerance to drink, but there was no backing out now. ༉‧₊˚. At first, he was concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel worse because of the soju. But as the conversation continued, he began to notice something else. ༉‧₊˚. The alcohol seemed to help her relax, peeling back the careful guard she had when they first sat down. Her genuine personality emerged, warm and unfiltered, and for the first time that night, she seemed completely at ease.

“Y’know,” she said, words stretching slightly as she rested her chin in her hand, “you’re not as scary as you look.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow, amused. “Scary? Is that how you saw me?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “When you came running over earlier, I thought you were gonna punch them in the face… which, by the way, would’ve been really cool.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“Good, ‘cause it was meant to be one,” she replied, pointing at him with a slightly wobbly finger. “You’re like one of those grumpy cats. All intimidating on the outside but probably super soft if you get to know them.”

“That’s quite the comparison,” he said, smirking, unsure whether to be insulted or impressed.

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her eyes still bright. “I’m just saying what I see.”

In-ho found himself amused despite himself, the playful jab catching him off guard. “So, what else do you see?” he asked, curiosity creeping in, but keeping his tone casual.

She raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment, then grinned. “I think you’re the type of person who pretends not to care but secretly does. And that makes you kind of a softie.”

“Wow, that’s deep,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

She nodded, looking proud. “Yep. I’m a great judge of character.”

He shook his head, clearly entertained by her. “Well, I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment, her smile softening. “You’re not as serious as you seem,” she said thoughtfully.

In-ho met her gaze, surprised by the shift. “Is that a compliment too?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a shrug. “But it’s true. You’ve got this whole... tough guy thing going on, but I can tell you’re not really like that.”

He let out a small laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You sure know how to read people, huh?”

She smiled, a bit smug now. “I told you, I’m good at this.”

༉‧₊˚. In-ho wasn’t the type to open up to strangers easily, but there was something about this encounter that felt different. ༉‧₊˚. Maybe it was the ease with which she joked, her humor a refreshing change from the weight of his usual silence. Her teasing nature and quick wit chipped away at the walls he usually kept firmly in place. ༉‧₊˚. She wasn’t scared of his tough exterior, and in some strange way, that made him feel… lighter. Her playful comments about him being too serious made him laugh—something he hadn’t done in a long time. ༉‧₊˚. One bottle of soju turned into two, then three, with neither of them really keeping track. The night, which had started off quiet and somber, slowly transformed. The stillness gave way to a lively energy, filled with soft laughter, comfortable silences, and warm conversation. ༉‧₊˚. As the alcohol worked its magic, the distance between them seemed to vanish. It wasn’t just the soju—there was something about her presence that made In-ho forget about the heaviness that often weighed on his mind. ༉‧₊˚. Her words were easy, her tone warm, and she spoke with such ease that it made him feel as though he could let go of all the unspoken burdens. She didn’t push him for anything, didn’t try to draw out his thoughts. She just was, and somehow that made the night feel less lonely.

“I mean, think about it,” she said, her giggles spilling out as she waved her chopsticks for emphasis. “If you weren’t a cop, you could totally be one of those broody action movie guys. You know the type—sharp jawline, mysterious aura…” She trailed off for a second, tilting her head as though she were analyzing him. “Like Lee Byung-hun!"

"You’d totally be the antihero. Do you practice glaring in the mirror, or is it just… natural?” She added, slurring a bit.

In-ho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His first instinct was to brush it off, but something about her teasing made it hard to not play along. “I do not practice glaring,” he said, his voice laced with mock indignation, though the corner of his lips twitched upward.

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes like she was examining a specimen under a microscope. “Hmm…” she murmured, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t know… feels a little too perfect to be unpracticed. You sure you’re not rehearsing in front of the mirror at night?”

He rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

She grinned, unbothered by his apparent defeat. “And yet, here you are, sharing soju with me,” she teased, tapping the rim of her cup with a smug expression as if she had just caught him in a trap. “Must be my charm.”

In-ho snorted at the playful arrogance in her voice. He looked at her—her easy smile, the glint in her eyes—and realized that, despite his usual guarded nature, he didn’t mind this. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. “Well, I guess I couldn’t resist your charm,” he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, come on,” she said, feigning offense, “You’re telling me the brooding cop is actually soft under all that tough exterior? That’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “What, you think I’m just some soft guy who lets anyone in?” he asked, the hint of a challenge in his voice.

Her grin widened, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said, taking a dramatic pause, “but I think I’ve cracked the code.”

In-ho stared at her for a moment, half-amused, half-caught off guard. There was something about the way she didn’t hold back, how effortlessly she made him feel at ease, that got to him more than he’d like to admit.

“You think you’ve cracked it, huh?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his voice lowered slightly as if testing the waters.

“Maybe,” she said, still grinning, “But you’re not getting off that easy. I’ll need more time to figure you out.”

In-ho chuckled, a genuine sound, free of the usual tension he carried. He looked at her and, for once, didn’t feel the weight of being the brooding guy with a past to hide. She was right about one thing—she was definitely making him feel lighter.

“I think I could get used to this,” he said, raising his cup to hers in a silent toast.

She clinked it with a quick grin. “You better,” she said with a wink. “You’re stuck with me now.”

༉‧₊˚. By the time they finished their third bottle, her cheeks were flushed, and she was laughing at every little thing. Her laughter was infectious, bubbling up at the smallest of jokes or even just the awkward silence between them.  ༉‧₊˚. In-ho, who wasn’t much of a drinker himself, found himself laughing along, not so much at the jokes, but at her genuine enjoyment. ༉‧₊˚. He had never been one to let loose, to be this open with anyone, but her easygoing nature was different. It was so refreshing that it caught him off guard in the best way. ༉‧₊˚. He wasn’t used to this—being around someone so unguarded, someone who could just be, without constantly second-guessing every word or action. And it made him realize how long it had been since he’d truly let go of his own reservations. ༉‧₊˚. At one point, as they were talking about something completely random, she started humming a little tune to herself. ༉‧₊˚. The notes were soft, almost silly as if the melody had just popped into her head. It wasn’t a song, just a tune she made up on the spot, and before he knew it, she started singing it aloud, her voice a little off-key but full of life.

“Do you hear that?” she said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “It’s a hit in the making. You should totally record it.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, resisting the urge to chuckle, but he let it slip out anyway. Her randomness was infectious. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but something about this moment made everything feel lighter, almost like he was seeing the world from a different angle.

He watched her for a moment, her laughter still echoing in the quiet night, and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.

It was rare for him to feel this easy, this unburdened. Normally, there was always something pulling at him—the weight of his responsibilities, the shadows of his past. But with her, everything seemed to fade away.

Her laughter, her carefree spirit, her utter lack of restraint—it was a stark contrast to everything he was used to, and yet, for once, it felt right. It was exactly what he needed.

“So, are we starting a band now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair, his voice light and relaxed.

She looked at him with a wink, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, you’re the tough guy with the brooding stare, so you’re definitely the lead singer,” she replied, pointing at him with a grin.

In-ho shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for singing,” he said, his voice still warm with the aftereffects of their shared drink.

She tilted her head, staring at him for a moment before speaking with a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no. You’re definitely the lead singer. The whole ‘I don’t care, I’m too cool’ thing. It’s perfect.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not broody,” he protested, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You’re definitely broody,” she teased, winking at him.

In-ho gave her a smile, but when his eyes shifted to his watch, he saw it was already past 3 a.m. His face softened slightly, and he frowned as he set his cup down.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stood up, the weight of the hour sinking in.

She groaned, leaning back in their chair dramatically, clearly not ready for the night to end. “Already? You’re no fun, Officer,” she complained, the playfulness still in her voice.

In-ho shook his head, half-amused, half-concerned. “And you’re someone who needs to get some sleep,” he replied firmly, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

She pouted at the suggestion but took his hand anyway, stumbling slightly as they stood up. “Fine, but only because you’re being all responsible and stuff,” she said with a mock pout, though her lips were curled in a smile.

In-ho chuckled, steadying them as she swayed a little. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself enjoying the moment—taking the time to care, to share something lighthearted, even if it was just for a brief while.

༉‧₊˚. On the walk to their apartment, their playful teasing didn’t stop. She nudged him with her shoulder every chance she got, laughing at her own exaggerated guesses about his “dark and mysterious backstory.” ༉‧₊˚. In-ho found himself relaxing more than he thought possible, their carefree energy infectious, filling the air between them with an ease he hadn’t felt in ages. ༉‧₊˚. For once, he wasn’t thinking about the weight of his past, or his responsibilities, or any of the worries that usually clouded his mind. He was just... enjoying the moment.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice light as they neared her building, “you’ve got my name, but I don’t think I ever got yours.”

She stopped in front of the door and turned to face him, giving him that mischievous grin he was beginning to recognize and love. “It’s [Lastname] [Name],” she said, her voice soft but steady, her eyes sparkling with that playful glint.

“[Name],” he repeated, the unfamiliar sound of it rolling off his tongue as if testing it for the first time. He nodded, as if committing it to memory. “I like it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing. “Yup. And don’t forget it.”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt foreign but good. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

She stepped closer, her grin widening. “Thanks for tonight, In-ho,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “You’re a good guy. Like, a really good guy.”

The compliment hit him harder than he expected, and for a brief moment, it made him uneasy. Good guy? His mind flickered back to his role as the Frontman—the games, the deaths he orchestrated, and the weight of the people he’d let down. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be called “good.”

His lips twitched into a small smile, but it wasn’t easy. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the warmth rising in his chest, the sense of contradiction gnawing at him. “I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered, a modest shrug masking the inner turmoil. His mind battled with the reality of who he was.

With a deep breath, he focused on her again, the playful spark in her eyes grounding him. “But… you’re welcome,” he said softly, the words coming out more genuine than he expected, despite the turmoil that lingered beneath.

Before he could say anything else, she leaned up, quick and confident, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It was brief, just a fleeting touch of her lips, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The warmth of the kiss lingered on his skin, and for a moment, he was frozen, caught completely off guard by the simple, sweet gesture.

She pulled back, smiling at him with that same playful glint. “Goodnight, Officer In-ho,” she said with a wink, her voice light and teasing, before stepping into her apartment and disappearing behind the door.

༉‧₊˚. In-ho stood there for a moment, his fingers brushing over the spot where her lips had just been as if trying to hold onto the feeling a little longer.  ༉‧₊˚. A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, one that felt unfamiliar but welcome. He let out a quiet breath, feeling something shift within him—a sense of warmth, of connection, that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. ༉‧₊˚. Turning away, he started walking back towards the direction of his apartment, his steps lighter than they’d been in a long time.  ༉‧₊˚. For once, the weight in his chest felt a little less heavy, and there was a certain peace in the quiet night air. As he walked, he thought, maybe Oh Il-nam wasn’t so bad for forcing me to take a week off after all. ༉‧₊˚. With the memory of her kiss still lingering, he couldn’t help but smile again, the thought of her brightening his steps as he headed back into the night.

[amethystina]

Hey! That ask you answered about protective Yo Han reminded me of this gem from the script book. I don't know if you're interested in anything script-related, but in case you are, here it is. A slightly different way the scene in E3 was supposed to go, when Yo Han came to the factory and attacked the man who put a bomb in the painting. (Also, 'forced' means 'Yo Han', all translators use this word instead of his name for some reason).

Personally, I loved the "do you know who you hurt?", the madness "increasingly" filling Yo Han's eyes, and him glaring at K when he asked if this was about Ga On. I'm amazed that he got so protective of him so quickly, it's just E3. To think of what he'd do post-canon... thank God (and you, of course!) for your amazing story. I can't tell you how much I'm waiting for everything you're going to bring down on us.

Hope you're doing better!

I haven't gone out of my way to look for the script, no, but I do read the little snippets I might run into on Tumblr and such. So I'm not NOT interested? But also too lazy to go look for it xD

And, tbh, I don't want to accidentally mistake something that was written in the script — but then taken out — as something that actually happened in canon. I have a really good memory but I don't always remember WHERE I read/saw/heard a specific fact so there's a chance I might mistake it as a part of canon even if it's not x'D

But, all that said, I am FASCINATED by this new information, not going to lie. I think that the increasing madness was still captured pretty well in the final version, but the "Do you know who you hurt?" Oh yes, I'm into that. Because while it COULD still just mean that Yo Han is referring to himself, I like that it leaves room for speculation. Very nice.

Though, at the same time, I feel like I have to be a responsible person and point out that, most likely, the reason why Yo Han reacts so violently as early as episode 3 is probably because of Isaac, not Ga On. Like, at that point, I think Yo Han is still struggling a bit with separating the two. Not that he ever mistakes them for each other, obviously, but it's probably a little disorienting until he gets to know Ga On better and can see all the differences more clearly. So it wouldn't surprise me if some of that protectiveness is because Ga On looks like Isaac, at least this early. It brings back very bad memories, and all.

But post-canon? That protectiveness would be for Ga On only. And, as always, Yo Han would hold nothing back.

And we will be exploring that a bit in Who Holds the Devil, yes. Not quite on the level of "I'm going to bring the entire country to its knees," but hopefully still enough to satisfy everyone's need for protective Yo Han ;)

Thank you so much for sending me this! I hope you have a wonderful evening 💜

[sevsdollette]

thinking about ellie when she’s angry. i think I cooked on this one.

contains: mentions of injuries. a little bit of arguing. smut (giving ellie head, fingering (r-recieving), heavy making out, choking, tribbing)

MDNI and men get away!!

it’s been a rough day around jackson. there was a swarm of infected running around in the woods—attacked some people you and ellie knew. they all came back okay, but situations were high-strung. you and ellie had been out the whole day searching, killing, and surviving.

your scout groups were separated. you spent the whole day wondering where your girlfriend was and what was going on with this strange zombie hoard. but, still, you had to stay focused on your own tasks. 

at the end of the day, when the sun was setting over the thick forest, you came back to jackson with your mind set on finding ellie.

her group had returned an hour before and all of them looked a little beat up. 

you walked through the stables, seeing them by the aid station. one of them had a large bandage casted around his leg and was walking on crutches. another was holding a bloody tissue to his face. a couple more had stray bandages wrapped around their limbs. 

you didn’t see ellie at first and your blood froze. your mind told you the worst. ellie was always one to act like a hero. you hated it, but it was who she was.

then she came out from around the corner. from the looks of it, she was fine. but you could tell there was peril behind her eyes. she had this wild, panicked look of a woman still high on adrenaline.

her hair was pulled back and off her neck. her flannel was stained and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. one of her leather boots was caked in mud and the other had a tear in the toe, revealing its steel. she had a hard grimmace, eyes scanning over every person from her squad that was sat against the wall.

you rushed over, dropping your pack and wrapping your arms around her neck. 

she stumbled back before embracing you quickly. “hey, babe, you alright?” she asked

“yeah, are you?” you let go and stood back. maybe you had missed where the injury was.

she purses her loops, looking down the hall of the stable in thought. maybe she hadn’t heard you. her brow was furrowed and her jaw clenched tight.

“ellie?”

she blinked rapidly and shook her head. “what, baby?”

your face tensed. “are you okay,” you repeated.

“yeah, yeah.” she brushed you off, stepping back. “i didn’t get hurt. i’m fine.”

“ellie—“

“why don’t you,” she began, taking your wrist as you tried to touch her face. “go home. i’ll see you there in a little bit. i just have to handle taking care of my crew.”

“well, i could help you—“

“go home,” she pleaded. “just go home.”

you shifted back, biting the inside of your cheek. she hadn’t even been looking at you. her ever frantic mind was too occupied to give you the time.

fine, you thought, picking your pack back up and walking out of the stables. 

you went home. where else was these to go? you slammed through the door, tossing your pack wherever it wanted to land, and stormed upstairs.

part of you wanted your anger to be directed at ellie, but really you were just frustrated. you were mad at the situation. why did today have to be so shitty? your scout mission hadn’t even been too stressful. you shot down one stalker and everything was quiet. 

but ellie must’ve been through the ringer. she hadn’t even told you what happened but you could assume bad enough. it wasn’t normal for her to treat you like that.

you took a deep breath as you undressed and got into some clean clothes. the house was too quiet when she wasn’t home. such a secluded town made an eerily silent world when one was alone. it almost made you feel like you were back out in those woods

you went back downstairs and sat in the living room. you wanted something to occupy yourself. maybe read a book or listen to a record, but you couldn’t get your feet to work to bring you to the bookshelf or record player.

just as you were about to retreat to bed, ellie came clamoring through the door. 

her pack was slung over her shoulder, she had her rifle tucked in the crook of her elbow, and her shoe was untied. her eyes stuck to the floor as she tried to walk without tripping.

“hey,” you hurried, walking over to take the pack off her back. she muttered a thank you and went to the counter to put her gun down. you stood in silence as she kicked off her boots and ran a hand through her messy hair.

she bit her lip, peeling away the dry skin. her hands were perched on her hips and she stared at the floor. it took you a second to see that her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were glassed over.

you pulled her into an embrace and this time she returned it. she took a large breath, hiding her face into your shoulder as her hands on your back pressed you close. a moment later, you could feel her tears staining your skin. she was silent but shaking.

you smoothed your fingers through her hair and took it out of its tie. “what happened?”

she shook her head, hiding her face further. muffled against your collar, you heard her say, “i thought i was gonna lose them all.”

you shushed her as the tears broke her more. “come upstairs,” you wished. “clean yourself up and rest.”

after a minute, she let you go and you led her up. she showered as you tidied the bed and turned off some of the lights. after a while, you realized she was probably just standing in the shower, staring at the tile wall. 

a lot of her hours were spent blankly staring and thinking. for such a young woman she had too much in her mind. everyone did, living in this world. you surely had your share of bad days. but everything seemed to hit ellie harder.

there was no clock in your bedroom, but you assumed she was in there for half an hour. when she came out, she quickly dressed in a hoodie and sweats but didn’t get into bed.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up.

she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “i just can’t sleep right now.”

“well, why don’t you lay down and try? you’ve had a long day, i’ll help you relax.”

she continued to shake her head. “no.”

“ellie, i just think you should get some rest. why don’t you tell me what happened—“

“i don’t—“ she snapped. her face soured into anger and she clenched her jaw. “i don’t want to go to sleep or talk about it.”

she didn't take her time leaving. the bedroom door was shut behind her before you could think of something else to say. you could hear her stomping down the stairs. a moment later, she was creeking the floorboards of the back porch.

she was smoking again. you told her a thousand times to stop with the cigarettes. it was a nasty habit that would kill her faster than a bloater. she always turned to it when she was stressed and it was difficult to pry it out of her fingers.

you got out of bed and went downstairs. you had no plan in your head to deal with the situation, but something told you to act on instinct.

she was in fact sitting on the back deck, nursing a hand-rolled cigarette. in the dark backyard you could see the burning embers more than her distressed face. when you opened up the screen door she winced and looked away from you, blowing smoke out into the night air.

“i don’t need you yelling at me right now,” she bit, putting the cigarette back between her chapped lips and taking a long drag. “just go to bed.”

“i’m not here to yell at you.” you walked over slowly and stood beside her. you shifted, leaned down to grab her chin and tilt her head up to look at you.

her wide, pouting eyes were pitiful. she stared up at you like she had nothing else in the world. perhaps a part of her was trying to be upset at you, but more of her needed you.

you sighed and whispered her name, leaning in to kiss her. 

she was needy. with your lips, you nearly pulled her up out of her seat so she could stay close to you. her hands were grasping at your jaw, dragging you back down to her.

you held yourself propped up on the arms of the chair, hanging over her as her desperate kisses broke you. she was practically whining and begging to have more of you. her hands slid over your shoulders and under the collar of your t-shirt.

you led your kisses lower, sliding your teeth over her neck to make her stutter. she gripped your shoulders to steady herself as you sucked a dark mark on the curve of her neck. she sighed and leaned her head back to give all of herself to you.

“you need to relax," you cooed, whispering in her ear. “you’ve had a bad day, baby, i know. just let me help you, okay?”

she pursed her lips and nodded quickly, meeting your eyes. her pupils were blown and she watched in awe as you got on your knees in front of her. you slid your hands up her thighs to tease the edge of her waistband. her cigarette was long forgotten as she stared down at you with wide eyes and parted lips.

you kissed her clothed thigh and smiled. 

she was breathless, staring down at you with her mouth agape. with a nervous, light laugh she looked around the backyard and stuttered. “shit, babe. people—someone could see or hear—“

“then don’t let them.” you snapped. pulling at the tie of her sweatpants. that seemed to shut her up enough. 

your backyard was fenced in and had a border of thick trees. someone could only see the two of you if they were trying to. but surely they could hear ellie if they stepped outside. she had a cute habit of not being able to control herself.

you pulled both her pants and boxers down at the same time. just enough so you could spread her legs and dip your head down into her cunt. she eagerly helped you, fighting the elastic to make sure you had enough access.

this was no night to make her wait. 

you kissed up her slit, letting her get just an idea of how it felt, before sliding your tongue through her folds.

she moaned and let her head fall back. you smiled against her, exhaling to tease. your tongue flicked against her pearl, having her nearly slip off the chair, and you kept going.

you rolled your lips over her sensitive bud, sucking it into your mouth and then kissing her. you were slow and loving, giving attention to every inch of her. your hands massaged circles into her upper thighs, urging them to spread as much as they could. she would've been a fool not to listen.

she had her hand gripping the top of your head and moving it how she wanted. part of her force was trying to push you further down to hide you, but more of it was getting leverage to rock her hips and fuck your face. 

she was stuttering in her act to play it cool. her elbow rested on the arm rest, hands clasped over her mouth as she forced her eyes to keep from rolling back. a heavy blush had spread across her face and her legs were shaking. they squeezed around your head as you sucked her clit into your mouth. 

with the extravagance of her reactions, you knew she needed this. every tense bone and muscle in her body was relaxing. you reached up under her sweatshirt with one hand to massage her tit. you rolled your finger over her nipple, feeling it pebble as you rolled it between your fingers.

she bit her lip and whined, rocking her hips faster as her hand fell from her mouth to grip the chair. she still held your head close and steady, flinching and moaning every time you took her clit in between your lips.

"fuck, baby, don't stop," she cried. she lost her breath. "please, don't stop."

her whiny voice sent pleasure down to your core. you were growing wet in your own underwear, pressing your thighs together as you kept your steady but rougher pace.

your eyes flicked up to look at her blushing, freckled face. she looked down and met your eyes, and that was it for her. she cried out, tugging at your hair and pressing her cunt against your face to ride out her orgasm.

you guided her through her high, smoothing your hands over her hips and thighs to ease her down from her bliss.

her lips and face were rosy. she took a deep breath, sighing contently as you bit her inner thigh and licked over the mark.

you rested your head on her leg as she ran her fingers through your hair. she was staring out at the trees, still recovering while you smiled to yourself and drew small shapes on her skin.

"ellie," you whispered, giggling. "you okay?"

she nodded and brushed the hair off your forehead. she looked down at you. "let's go upstairs."

you jumped up and grabbed her hand to pull her with you. she was already on you, chasing you to the back door. she caught you just before and pushed you against the wall.

her lips were on yours before you could think. she roughly grabbed your hips, slamming them back before pushing hers into you. you moaned against her lips, dizzy and weak.

her hand fumbled beside you, opening the back door. when it swung open, she rushed to push you in. she had to get you inside. it was consuming her. her vision tunneled on your body as she followed you through the living room and up the stairs. you were stumbling over each other and you got into the bedroom.

she swung the door shut behind her and grabbed you again. everything was happening so fast you could hardly remember where you were standing when she kissed you. she was frantic and rough, grabbing your ass to pull you against her and squeezing to get a moan out of you.

it was a blur of her desperation. one second you had your shirt on, the next, you didn't. your bra, pants, and panties were quick to be tossed aside. she was stripping too and soon she was throwing you into bed and crawling on top.

she was panting, staring down at your face laid perfectly on the pillows. you were dazed, looking up at her with waiting eyes. naked together, you always lost all sense and could only focus on her.

her body folded against yours as you made out. her tongue was tasting every part of your mouth as your breasts pressed to hers. she slid her thigh between your legs and moaned into your lips when she felt how wet you were.

she hummed. "ready for me already?"

you moaned in response, cradling her jaw to draw her back to kissing you. she tasted like heaven. she was getting sloppier, kissing you like she'd never have another chance. her teeth slid over you bottom lip and bit down enough for you to flinch.

you dragged your hands down her chest while she led hers lower. she was rocking your hips against her thigh, getting all of your slick across her skin as she just barely stimulated you. she wanted to tease you. watching you whine and beg was what got her off.

she kissed your neck as she humped her leg against you. with every drag of her hips you get closer and closer to screaming at her to touch you. that was what she wanted.

"ellie..." you sighed. she bit on the sensitive spot of your neck and you lost all your words. for now, that seemed to be enough for her to do what you wanted.

she moved her leg and dipped her fingers between your folds. your slick was enough for her digits to slide inside of you with ease. you moaned and pressed your head into the pillows. ellie stared down at you, watching every reaction as her fingers curled into your cunt.

you wrapped your legs around her and she leaned back down to kiss you. it was useless as every other kiss was interrupted with your whines. she nipped at your lips and went back to your neck as she fucked her fingers into you. she was hitting that sweet, spongy spot every time. she had your legs shaking and nearly falling off of her.

she bit at you ear lobe. "you're gonna take everything I give you, yeah?"

you moaned and nodded. her voice could've been enough to make you cum.

"good."

her other hand moved up and wrapped around your neck. she pressed and held you down into the mattress. she used the leverage to put pressure on your neck and lean back, fingering you rougher now.

you gasped and struggled for breath. it was embarrassing how another wave of pleasure surged to your core as you struggled to breathe.

"today was really fucking shitty, baby, but you're making it all so much better." she tightened her grip and you dizzied. your fingers felt fuzzy and your eyes prickled with tears. "I really, really love watching you like this. you're so pretty when you're gasping, princess."

she was taking her anger out on you. everything she wanted to do to those infected she was doing to you. hell, she could've killed you now if she wanted to. she had you at her mercy, your cunt squeezing around her fingers and your hands gripping her wrist.

any attempt at speaking was lost in your lungs. her fingers curved and fucked you at just the right spot to get you close to your orgasm. she could tell just by the squeezing of you legs around her hips.

she brought her thumb up to rub circles over your clit. "come on. cum for me, sweetheart."

you choked out a moan, eyes rolling back as your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure. she kept her fingers hitting that same perfect spot as you saw stars and clawing at her arm. it all lasted enough to make your vision spotty and your cunt clench around her digits.

she released you gently and rubbed the sore skin where she had held you. you took that long breath you had been needing and blinked the tears out of your eyes. she hummed and kissed you cheek, rubbing your thigh. "you alright, baby?"

you took another long breath and nodded. she smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth, adjusting your legs.

before you'd fully recovered, she was hooking one of your legs around her and moving one of hers over your other. she dipped close and rested her core just above yours.

she slid her folds over yours, finding the right spot to have her clit rubbing against yours. you cried from the overstimulation, gripping her shoulders and digging your nails into her back.

she stared down at the joining of your bodies, rolling her hips over and over again to feel your bud hit hers.

she had one hand holding your thigh and the other arm propped on her elbow beside your head. her face was hot and blushed, lips parted as she moaned softly and breathed heavily.

your eyes pinched shut as the pleasure turned from too much to just what you needed.

she was focusing on her needs. she was using you as a fuck toy to get herself off. that should not have made you as wet as it did. but you pushed your hips up to meet hers, matching her rhythm. you had her biting her lip and sinking her head to your collar.

both of you were overstimulated and close. her legs were shaking, trying to hold her up as she drew herself closer to orgasm. she upped her pace, harshly fucking her cunt against yours. you could hear her whispering vague words but they were lost in your skin. she was unreachable, chasing her high as she led you to yours as well.

"cum with me, baby," she muttered, "please, I need it." her words cut off into a moan as you led your hand down to squeeze her ass. with your hand encouraging her hips, she screamed and came. in her frantic search for pleasure, she brought you to finish and you came with her.

you both were a heaving, blissful mess of easing down from your climaxes. ellie collapsed on top of you, resting her head on your shoulder and rubbing your waist.

your hands found her hair and you ran your fingers through it. your chest heaved and fell with every recovering breath. you stared at the ceiling, unsure of how the night turned around so quickly.

what was once a lust-filled room was now one of comfort and silence. you lay together for eternity, you stroking her hair and her leaving light kisses on your collarbone.

eventually, she climbed off of you to clean up, coming back to wipe you off. when she was done, she got back into bed with you and you held her. her body curved into yours and you could tell she had shut her eyes.

"i love you," you muttered, kissing the back of her neck.

she sighed. "i love you too. and I'm sorry."

you shushed her. "everything's okay, baby. just go to sleep now."

she nodded, burying her face into her pillow.

note: sorry for not posting, i was on vacation and we had no wifi :( anyway, i love love love ellie. and to my friend who was on vacation with me and watched me write this, you slay hope you liked it. i also hope your phone is fixed.

tag list:

@archangeldyke-all, @cacston, @sevsarm, @sevsbaby @maneskinwh0re

@orangepeelz1324

[gh0stsp1d3r]

May I please request where I am kiaras sister and I become pregnant from rafe and my parents kick me out

I love this sm

Not under my roof

R! Is 19, mikes an asshole

The wait was suspenseful, Rafe paced the room while your leg bounced up and down, both of you staring at the test.

When the two lines appeared, Rafe threw his hands up, running a hand through his hair. Your eyes welled up.

“Rafe-“

He bit down on his lip, stopping his pacing and looking down at you and nodding, his mind running wild. He thought for a moment before speaking.

“Fuck. Alright, alright, it’s okay. We got this, we can do this shit, right?” He was mostly talking to himself, but he looked at you as he said it. Tears ran down your face and he got down to your level, sitting in front of you, cupping your face gently.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. It’s gonna be alright, okay? ‘M gonna… figure this shit out, gonna marry you, and I’ll… clean up another room at Tannyhill. It’s gonna be fine. Okay?”

You didn’t say anything or nod, he frowned. “You heard me? I’m gonna figure things out for us.”

You nodded and he sighed, standing up and leaving the bathroom.

The one thing you were worried about? How the hell were you gonna tell your parents?

You took a deep breath, fumbling with the key in your hand and opening the front door.

“Mom? Dad?” You called out, shutting the door behind you.

“In here!” Your mom shouted from the dining room. Your heart racing as you walked over to them, plastering a fake smile on your face when you saw them.

Kiara sat, looking miserable at the edge of the table, watching as you entered. Sarah was next to her. Great.

“Sit,” your dad motioned to a plate on the other end of the table. You gave Sarah a small smile and she gave one back.

“What’s this?” You asked when you sat down, pointing to the meat on your plate.

“Swordfish.” Your mom spoke, your face fell and your heart sunk. You couldn’t eat high-mercury fish.

“Is something wrong?” Your dad asked, you swallowed and looked at them.

“Uh... No. It’s just… I can’t eat swordfish.” You said, you should have known they would pester you about why.

“Why?” Kiara asked with an attitude, everyone now staring at you.

“I… my doctor told me not to eat meat for a few days.”

“What? Why? Is something wro-“ your mom immediately started.

“Everything’s fine.” You lied with a small smile, taking a sip of the water next to the plate.

“Then why can’t you eat meat, y/n?” Your mom kept going, a warning in her tone now. She knew something was up.

“I- not here.” You told her, glancing around the table.

“Y/n, tell me right n-“

You uttered the words quietly, 'I'm... I'm pregnant.' The room fell silent as your mom's fork clattered onto her plate, your dad's knife froze in the air above the fish, and my sister's eyes widened in shock as she stared.

Her words stumbled out in disbelief. "W- you’re- what?" she stuttered. "Whose... whose is it?

You looked at Sarah, closing your eyes and sighing as you muttered Rafes name.

Sarah’s face turned into one of shock. Kiara’s one of disgust.

“You had sex with Rafe? Are you kidding me right now?!” Kiara shouted, standing up.

“Kiara! Go to your room!” Your dad shouted back, standing up as well, pointing in the direction of her room. Your sister stormed off, Sarah stumbled behind her, still in shock.

Your dad sighed heavily as he sat back down.

“What are you gonna do with it?” He asked quietly.

“I’m… keeping it.”

“Do you really want to raise a child? You’re 19.”

“I- I mean, I want this. Can’t you just be happy for me, for fucking once?”

“Do not use that language with me, young lady.” He sneered. “I can’t have this shit happening under my roof. Under my watch.”

"You only care about your reputation!" You shouted at him, the words bursting like a dam breaking after years of pent-up anger. It felt terrifying to finally release all that had been bottled up inside you for so long.

“Y/n-“ your mom started, trying her best to stop the both of you.

“Don’t ever fucking say that, I’m just trying to help you! You can’t raise a baby! Not alone-“

“I won’t be alone!”

He scoffed, “you really expect me to believe that Rafe Cameron is going to stay with you after this baby?”

“You don’t know anything about him! Dad-“

“Sweetie, I think you should just lis-“ your mom started.

“No! It is my baby and my life, and if you don’t want to be involved in their life, then so fucking be it!”

“That’s not what he mea-“

“Get out.” He said, breathing heavily as he stared at you.

“W-what?” Your mom asked, looking at him now.

“Get the fuck out of my house, y/n.” He pointed to the front door.

“What? Are you serious right now?!” You exclaimed. “You’re kicking me out?!”

He wordlessly stormed to your room, going through all your drawers and grabbing everything, ignoring your mom’s protests as you shouted at him. He went outside, throwing all your clothes outside. He saw Rafe in the car, and stormed over to the car, Rafe getting out the car and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Dad? What are you doing?!” Kiara asked, coming outside now as well. While she was mad, she still had her love for her sister.

“What the fuck, man?” Rafe pointed to the clothes on the floor and your sobbing figure at the doorway.

“I am not having this shit-“ he pointed to you and Rafe. “-Happen under my roof.”

“Seriously? You know, we shouldn’t have even told you.” Rafe scoffed, watching you gather your clothes from the ground and go into passenger seat of his car.

Mike scoffed. “Can’t believe this shit.”

“She’s an adult!”

“I fuckin’ told her time and time again to stay away from guys like you-“

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, Mike?” He sneered, already rolling up his long sleeves before you got out the car and sniffled at him.

“C’mon, please. Don’t.” You told him, not even looking at your parents. Your eyes were pleading and he just scoffed, motioning for you to get back in the car and getting back in the drivers seat.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“How’d Ward and rose take it?” You asked him quietly, interrupting the silence.

“Better than your parents.” He scoffed, making you look down in your lap.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled to him.

“For what?” He questioned, genuinely confused as he glanced at you.

“Making you see that.”

“Hey, what did I tell you? I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. I meant that shit, kid.“

It was silent for a little until he spoke up again.

“But, expect to be asked a million questions by Wheeze when we get back.” He said with a small smile playing on his lips.

[ynackerman9499]

Hello! This is me! 𝕪/𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟! This is my tumblr in case you don't know me i have a youtube channel which I upload texting stories videos to it! And this is my first post here in tumblr (original)

Some male Hashiras + kagaya reaction to you sacrificing yourself for them

⚠ Warning : spoiler in kyojuro and kagaya, take of death, blood, injuries, crying, some of them are really short

Giyu Tomioka

You and Giyuu were fighting against 2 demons who used a blood demon art

You killed one and Giyuu killed the other one

Or so you both thought...

"You did well giyuu_san!" You said smilling putting your sword in place

While giyuu just nodded humming as a silent 'thank you'

This only made you smile even wider. You've been friends with giyuu with great amount of time now

You both actually gets along very well Despite your different personalities

So you got used to his comforting quiet gesture

"All right! Let's head back n-"

You suddenly stopped sensing that something is wrong While giyuu looked at you wondering why you fell silent so suddenly

"Wh-"

You breathed in sharply, catching a glint in the air watching it whizz towards Giyuu.

"not on my watch!"

You yelled, quickly drawing your sword breaking the unknown object in half.

Giyuu's eyebrow twitched, taking his sword out of its sheath.

"giyuu, there!" You shouted, pointing to the direction of the demon that was currently perched on one of the trees.

The two of you gave each other a knowing nod, rushing towards the trees and jumped landing on one of the branches,

"come back here you coward!" You barked, skillfully jumping from tree to tree, following after the demon.

The demon hissed, sending metal shards towards you and Giyuu, which the two of you dodged with ease

"breath of ice..." you mumbled taking a deep breath

"dance of frozen crystals!"

Streams of sparkling diamond-like figures flowed out your sword as you jumped upwards, holding your katana over your head as you swung it effectively cutting half of it's body;

sadly, not his neck, as he covered it with a steel-like substance.

"Y/n!"

Giyuu called out, causing you to look back at him wondering why did he sound so worried

You saw he was looking horrified looking at your chest rather than your face

'why did he sound so-'

You were caught out of your thoughts by yourself coughing something liquid out of your mouth

You looked down at your chest, a large sharp metal shard piercing through the middle of your chest

"uh.. F-fuck.." you muttered stumbling back and falling against a tree vomiting even more blood feeling it a bit hard to breathe

"y/n! No!" giyuu shrieked running at your slumbering and bloody figure against the tree

"giyuu.. The d.. emon" You mumbled, coughing out a worrisome anmountof blood, the crimson liquid spilling out of your lips in mouthfuls.

"i cant leave you..." he whispered as of scared of starling you

"i cant you are in_" "... Dying"

You corrected him. Mastering the last energy you had to cup his face with your bloody hand while lying in his embrace

"i am.. Dying, Giyuu..."

"no.. No you are not.. You can slow the ble-" "my lungs are... damaged giyuu"

Tears burned his eyes, hugging you close to his chest and placed his hand over your cheek

"i.. Love you... Giyuu... So... Much.. " you confessed as you started to lose consciousness and struggling even more to keep your eyes open

You took a deep breath but sadly... It didn't come out again...

"y/n.. Y/n... Hey.." giyuu said with shaky voice as a couple of tears escaped his eyes

"hey...don't do this to me, love... I–i love you too... Why did you do this... I–i don't deserve this..."he said as he closed your lifeless eyes with his fingers

"i am sorry i am too useless to be able to protect you..." he was now on full mode sobbing

Oh how cruel is it that you didn't even hear the person you love saying thing you wanted to hear from him the most...

Obanai Iguro

No...

No no no no...

That wasn't supposed to happen...

The hit was meant for him...

It was meant for him damn it!

Why did you have to take it for him

He doesn't deserve it

He doesn't deserve to live

Why would he live while you are here dying in his arms gasping and wheezing for air

He is enraged

His fear tends to come out as anger

So while you are literally dying he is shouting at you for how stupid you are, how foolish to waste your precious live over his useless one

His shouting you mutter out an Inaudible : 'sorry... '

Just then the anger turns into tears

"you idiot..." he wailed... Actually wailed.. Something you never thought you'd see, not that you wanted to in the first place

It was supposed to be him...

"don't you dare apologise..." he hugged you even tighter feeling you fading away from him as you tried to breath but it only come out as a horrible choking sound as you choked on your own blood

His cheek rested on top of your head

"o-oba... nai.. " you said chocking in the middle of word as the hole in your chest began seeping even more blood

"g–give them.. H–hell for m–me... Yeah?..."

Oh he would...

He would make them pay for taking you away from him

For making the only person who kept him moving forward...

Is now cold and limb in his arms...

Sanemi shinazugawa

Fuck!

Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck!

He physically can't handle what he is looking at

As he refused to stop saving you even after you already stopped breathing

"shit! Shit!" he pressed harsher on the wound, the blood was slowing but not because of his relentless attempt...

You were gone... Not even being able to get a word out because of how harshly he was crying

For some reason... Even in your final moments you found it kind of comforting that he was try his best to save you

You felt your heart break looking at him from the other side hugging your cold, lifeless body... Trying to squeeze some warmth into it even though he knows its useless

Kyojuro Rengoku

You coughed out blood as akaza hand went through your stomach

"Y/N! NO!"

You took the hit for kyojuro

I mean... How could you not... You just couldn't let someone like him die

You just couldn't...

Gripping your sword harder, you slashed it against his neck making his eye widen

'she got in my way! And she still has the strength!

Akaza thought as he was amazed at how you still has the strength to even breathe

'Kyojuro, im going to die. I know. We had a life planned in front of us, but..l couldn't let you die. I just can't'

You thought as The demon tried to punch your face, but you stopped it with your other hand

"Y/N!!"

'you won't get away... Akaza!'

Looking behind the demon, but still applying force on the neck, you looked behind to see Rengoku with the boy from before charging at you with their swords.

A smile got onto your face.

'I wont ever let go off the sword ..Until I cut his head off!'

"INOSUKE MOVE! MOVE FOR Y/N-SAN!"

The boar now charged at you with speed His attack cut the demons arms, your sword still attached to his neck.

He was running away, clearly.

The boy threw his sword at the demon,.

stabbing him through the chest. Followed by Screaming of how he was a coward by running away and that both Rengoku and you were stronger than him.

You felt two gentle pair of hands gripping your back, drops of water, or tears, to your cheek as kyojuro took you in his embrace trying to stop the bleeding even though he knows it's a fatal wound

"Y/n.. No. No..please don't leave me! Please! I beg you! I will go down on my knees if it have to!"

"kyo... It's okay..." You say voice barely a whisper as you gathered all the strength you had trying to put your hand on kyojuro's cheek.

He quickly took your bloody hand in his and put it over his cheek

"no no... The hit was meant for me to take... Why did you have to get in the middle... Why.."

"i just couldn't.. Let–" vomiting blood "y-you... Die"

You said panting feeling like you can't breathe anymore...

Kyojuro the brust out sobbing burying his face in your neck as your body laid lifeless in his arms

It was supposed to be him dammit!

He was supposed to be the one protecting you!

Not the other way around!

On the other side tanjiro watching the scene feeling his heart break over and over again

Another love story between two lovers was ruined by those disgusting Creatures

Tengen uzui

after a long and hard battle you had ended up dangling off the side of a cliff barely holding onto an also seriously injured tengen.

He could feel your fingers slipping from his.

you were both tired and injured it was a tough battle and despite the demons head being cut off you had taken some heavy blows and now you were dangling off the side of a cliff, barely conscious as tengen held onto your hand with his

"dont worry y/n! ill pul you up Soon!"

you could see him struggling to hold your hand and knew that if he held on any longer he might go down with you

watching him struggle above you made your heart ache as you couldnt do anything to help

"Ten.."

the both of you made eye contact with each other

"thank you for being with me... I love you so much"

his eyebrows twitched at your words

"why does it sound like youre saying goodbye? y/n. You better hold into my hand!"

his jaw was clenched as he spoke to you

you couldnt leave him

if only he had killed that demon sooner

if only he could have protected you

in this moment he hated the gentle smile that was on your face

because to him it meant he had failed

"we both know we'll both fall if you dont let go, neither of us have enough strength left to do anything."

"its okay ten, im ready. i love you and I'll always be watching over you. live well"

he could feel your fingers one by one letting go of his hand and he tried as hard as possible to not let go

"y/n please! I.. I can't do this without you... "

you just shook your head

"im sorry ten but you have to, i know you can. you're going to do great things, with or without me."

"always remember that i love you... And i'll always be watching you"

With that, the last grip he had on you failed

the serene smile on your face was the last thing he saw as you fell to your probable death,

shattering his heart

he screamed your name on the top of his lungs as your hands disconnected followed by painful sobs

Not again...

First his siblings now you..

He lost so many loved ones

of course he knew that he was too injured to pull you up and the most he could have done was just hold onto you until help came,

If help came...

he hated this,

he hated himself

what was the point of being strong when he couldnt even save the one person he loved most in this entire world

"Live well" it was one of the last things you told him hed try his best to because you asked him of it but to him living well meant being by your side which was something he couldnt do anymore.

Muichiro Tokito

poor baby doesn't really know what to do

he's kneeling beside you with a worried look

he's sweating and his hands are clammy

he remains silent for the most part

"Y/n?"

He is right next to you, hand nervously taking your own

"Don't worry."

you give him a weak smile as scary as it was, just his presence was enough.

"|-what do I do?"

The fear in his face made your heart clench.

"Just stay with me. You dont need to do a thing..."

You squeezed his hand with the last bit of strength

you had, smiling softly

"Be careful okay? There are still a lot of demons left"

You didn't fear death,

but you did fear what would happen to those you

loved once it got to you.

Kagaya ubuyashiki

This took place before the explosion in the final battle era

Your husband's hand is cold in yours. You squeeze his

fingers and watch the moonlight bleed out the color of

his skin into silver.

"Are you well, love?" you ask quietly. A washbowl rests to your side, the cloth draped over the side dripping droplets of water down the floor. You take it and wrangle the water with one hand as best as you can,

laying it atop his forehead after. Kagaya closes his eyes and smiles beatifically. It looks painful.

"I will be fine," he says. A mere whisper; it runs wild in the echoes of the night. "| am certain... After tonight, everything will be fine again." You hum thoughtfully. Your heart turns like a clock,

mechanical, a slave to fate. You dare not tell him anything.

"I wonder. . " Kagaya starts. "How does the sky look tonight, Y/N?"

You looked up at the sky as the clouds moved to reveal the beautiful moon

"it's beautiful..." you said as he leaned into your hand as you caressed his cheeks

"he is here..."

A long shadow blocks the moonlight. You look up.

Plum red eyes stare back.

"It's finally nice to meet you, Kibutsuji Muzan," Kagaya says casually.

A chuckle flits in your ear, honey-thick and suave.

Muzan's jacket rests precariously on his shoulders,

and the wind picks up, as if trying to steal it away. The sleeves whip around him uselessly.

"Well;" he says. "You sure look terrible, Ubuyashiki."

If you do not look too closely, you can still delude

yourself into dreaming that this is a normal family.

Your twins have not stopped playing, and their

laughter mingles with the song.

*after the speech because i cant recall it 💀*

"Kibutsuji" You incline your head, a mockery of respect. "You may have prepared for everything.. But there is one thing you didn't prepared for.."

"and what would that may be?"

"this–" you pulled out teh explosion monitor and jumped on kagaya and just before it explored a room open under kagaya's bed and you both fell into a room underground where your kids were waiting for you to come and there was a secret door which led to outside

But it was quite the fall, but you shielded kagaya's body with yours as you he fell on top of you

"Uhmm... " Kagaya groaned from the pain of the impact but more at the though that you were hurt from the fall and his weight together

"it's okay... It's okay..." you said as you cradled kagaya's fragile body

"i just need you to hold on for me... Can you do that please?"

The explosion was loud on top of you but what was more terrifying was the piece of wood of the selling above you that was about to fall

So you quickly pushed kagaya out of the way just as the piece of wood fell on your lower body completely breaking it

"y/n! " Kagaya yelled as best as he could as he heard your crying of pain

"i am fine! I am fine!" You shouted as you tried to stop the tears from dropping from the pain

"kiriya! Listen! Take your father and run out of here!"

"b–but mo–" "no buts! This piece of seilling completely crushed my lower par! You won't be able to get it out! Even if you did i'd be just a burden! I won't be able to run! No go! Go!"

Kiriya quickly carried his father on his shoulder as best as he could

"no... Y/n... If we die... we die together.. That's a promise..."

"well.. Look like i have a change of plans, sorry love"

You said as you smiled sadly at him even though he can't see it

*time skip*

"CAW! CAW! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! THE FINAL BATTLE IS OVER! CAW! CAW!"

Kagaya opened his eyes at the sound of the noisy crow.. And for the first time in years...

He sees the sky clearly as the curse marks started to fade from his body...

He quickly tried to ran into the place where his estate is supposed to be with only one though in mind...

'y/n...'

He opened his eyes clearly for the first time in years and the first face he wanted to look at was yours

"oyakata_sama! Wait! You are not fully recovered yet!"

The kakushi tried to warn him but he just didn't care

He wanted to see you, to touch you, to tell you how much you mean to him even though words cannot describe, to make sure you are alright

But what he saw made him stop and his blood run cold...

The estate.. His home... Your home.. Is now crumbled to pieces with you under all that

he quickly took off and tried to dig into the rubble in hopes maybe.. Just maybe.. You are still alive...

"master..."

The kakushis and the remaining of the hashiras felt thier heart break looking at thier master like this...

Nevertheless, they started to help thier master find his wife.. I mean.. You were like a mother and a big sister to them all...

"I found something!" one of the kakushi shouted as he saw your bloody hand sticking out of the rubble

They quickly ran to where he was and started digging even more, just as they reached your head they all stopped and stepped back for thier master to take a look at you...

"oh my dear..."

Kagaya quietly knelt down where your bloody upper body only was visible

He caressed your bloody

cheek just as you did with him a few hours ago...

Oh how beautiful you looked... Even if you were cold and pale with your lips starting to get blue..

He missed you so much that he almost forgot the way you looked...

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered even with the black circles under your eyes and the few wrinkles that appeared on your face and the grey hairs despite how young you are...

"oh love... How many times did i tell not to worry to much about me..." Kagaya whispered as he caressed your cold skin with a few tears falling from his eyes "like this you will age before time..."

He hugged you one last time before the kakushis free your body completely from the rubble and take you to bury your beautiful body

Today the world won peace.. But he lost his...

[neovillains]

FINDING EQUILIBRIUM · GOJO SATORU

( PLAY EPISODE 1 : PILOT ) it's not easy being a college student and a hero at the same time. every time gojo thinks he's caught a break, something just has to happen | watch time : 3.5k words.

── chat noir!gojo satoru & student!reader, secret identities, light violence, fluff, first encounters, cat co-parenting, etc.

note. season one : episode one is out, yuh! thank you to those who have shown interest. can't wait to get this all started for y'all and hear what you guys think. if you want to be tagged, please add yourself to the subscription list.

There’s something freeing about being hidden underneath a secret identity. White locks that frolic freely in the wind as the black over his face as he’s crouched down on the brown shingles of a home, lurking a distance away. The sky shines a bright blue as his white eyelashes bat carefully. Like this, he doesn’t have to pretend to be himself, shining in a confidence that rivaled what his friends saw. He stood in a bravado that people looked at him in awe for as he and Ladybug saved the day once more. He didn’t have to lie under the disguise, speaking solely as Chat Noir as he promised to save the city and those in danger, and always making sure that he stayed true to his word. 

Agile like a cat, he took a careful step down from the shingle as the Twizzler— Hawk Moth’s latest victim— is still on the prowl. Long hair that’s red and shaped like the licorice, it grows into a lasso as she swings it around, masked eyes peering in every direction. Ladybug sits on the other side, a safe distance away as the two of them had devised a plan. Chat Noir looks up just in time to see her signal. With a curt nod, everything’s set in position. 

“Hey!” Ladybug’s voice calls for the Twizzler’s attention, the akumatized candy-woman snapping her head in the hero's direction as she grunts and sneers. It gives Chat Noir ample time to make his move, sure to stay as silent as can be in hopes to conduct the plan smoothly. “I think you’re looking for me!”

“Where's your vermin friend, Chat Noir?” The Twizzler sneers, bearing out her teeth as she gets into stance. Chat Noir has to withhold himself from scoffing and making a snide remark, biting his tongue as he prepares to jump off the building. Like a cat, he lands on fours, feet as silent as Ladybug continues to taunt the villain. 

Smart enough to not look in his direction, Ladybug smirks. “He’s just where he needs to be.”

The street is littered with captured civilians as they silently beg for help. With a finger over his lip, he sends a sly wink in order to reassure them of their impending safety. The Twizzler falls for the bait, not thinking too hard on Ladybug’s wording before she’s hurdling straight towards her with the candied weapon spinning in her arm. With a devious smirk, Ladybug stands still, willingly letting the sticky treat capture her as Chat Noir closes in on her. Before the lasso could break, the male hero lands on top of the Twizzler and wraps his hands around it. 

His voice seems to echo through the air. He cries out, “Cataclysm!” watching the elongated treat as Ladybug is set free and the akuma butterfly fluttering away. With the ladybug-printed yo-yo, Ladybug captures it as the true identity of the Twizzler is unveiled. The kind woman that works at the candy shop stumbles, looking around disoriented. Chat Noir does the courtesy of freeing the captured, cutting through the licorice as Ladybug gets the woman back inside the shop. 

This is what he loves at the end of it. The rush of relief that washes over people’s face as they run back to the safety of their loved one’s arms. It brings a warmth to his soul as he lets out an exasperated breath before realizing he has to change back soon. He has a class to get back to that he can’t afford being late to— again. 

He dashes away, finding an empty alleyway without any passers-by before he calls out, “Claws in!”

Through his transformation, Gojo feels relief from the tight-fitted suit, an exhausted breath leaving as he trudges out from the dark corner and tucking his hands up the sleeves of his navy blue hoodie. He slips back on his black sunglasses as the sun peers down on him, seemingly saying, I know what you are. I know who you are. He hurries his footsteps as he finds his way back on campus, ducking and dodging the walking obstacles of people trying to head to their destination. 

This is the most peace he’s felt all day so far, finally able to clear his mind of any worries as the enormous building comes into sight. He’s always found something comforting about walks outside. He can only guess that the health studies are true— going outside truly is important and beneficial in all aspects. He feels like all of his life worries have been solved in just the few minutes he’s been walking. Long legs that lead him inside, he loses the warmth of the sun the moment he steps inside and the calamity is gone in a matter of seconds as his phone starts ringing. When he checks the caller ID, it’s his father. With a hefty sigh, he immediately declines. 

Already with an excuse in his mind, Gojo bumps into someone on the way into the lecture room. He doesn’t bother to look in their direction, only spitting out a weak, “sorry,” before opening the lecture door and heading inside. Trudging inside, Gojo heads to his designated seat in the back, dropping his bag down and pulling out his laptop. More students start piling inside in a matter of minutes as the clock ticks closer to class starting. 

Gojo’s typical seat mate slides into his chair, a smile on his face when he does as he leans into Gojo. “I wonder if the Prof is gonna cancel today.”

Gojo tuts, crossing his arms as he leans into the seat. “I hope not. I wasted my time trying to be early today.”

Haibara chuckles. “Well, with plenty of people getting attacked by the Twizzler, I’m pretty sure he’ll be running late if anything.”

That’s true, Gojo pouts, remembering the entire ordeal. How could he when he was one of the people to stop it from escalating? Gojo groans in realization as he remembers nearly calling the professor by his name and nearly revealing himself. He slaps the table before letting his head fall onto the hard plastic. “Great,” he whines. “Just great.”

Just as Haibara originally predicted, Professor Masamichi sent a mass email to all of his students saying that class was canceled. Gojo groaned as everyone started packing up their belongings and piling in a disordered line. He grumbled all the way to the door, once again bumping into someone else, only this time he managed to get a glance of the person. Unbeknownst to him, you are heading in the same direction as him and everyone else. And this time, his apology is clearer as he repeats, “Sorry.”

—

“Ugh, it's been such a long day!” Plagg exclaims the moment Gojo steps in, peeking the pocket of his bag and flying out. “I need some camembert!”

  The college apartment is spacious and vacant, highlighting Gojo’s loneliness the moment he steps inside of it. He drops the heavy bag near the door as he kicks off his shoes, letting Plagg roam freely as he simply just wants to lounge around now that he’s back home. His body aches, arms stretching as he hears the cracks of each muscle tasting sweet relief. He groans, eyes shut as he yawns. 

It's dark inside, the curtains shut and blocking out the dimming natural light as the sun sets. It takes him a while, but Gojo flickers on the light. He groans as it burns his eyes and he stumbles back. He's cursing himself for setting three of his classes in one day, especially with his two-hour classes back-to-back. He really should've listened to Geto when he tried to talk him out of it. But no, he wanted to knock two birds with one stone. It didn't feel like he was if he wanted to take a cat nap every time Wednesday came around. 

He curses Hawk Moth, too. Dreading the city with another akumatized civilian to stress him out even further. Couldn't the evil villain just give him a break for once? His groan echoes through the empty home as he falls down on the couch, body relaxing as he sinks into the soft fabric. He's so close to succumbing, he can practically taste it, but the sound of clatter disrupts him as his lidded eyes widen. 

Plagg, too busy eating the pungent cheese, ignores the chaos that’s happening outside and sets Gojo to solely handle the matter. The sound is coming from outside near the patio, where at first, Gojo hesitates to go anywhere near it until he hears scratches against the rough rug and the soft meow that follows it. Immediately, his body relaxes as he goes to pull away at the blinds to reveal the feline that stands on the other side. A tuxedo cat with a blind green eye and no tail, the poor little thing has surely been through a lot. Gojo goes to grab the heavy bag of cat food he bought just for the girl as he opens the sliding door. Peppermint, he’s named the cat. She peers up at him, waiting expectantly for him to feed her. Gojo glances at the time before chuckling. 

“I should've known it was you.” Crouching down, he reaches for the bowl before the cat could swipe at his hand and add to the countless scratches she had already given him. He shakes a good amount in the bowl before pushing it her way. “You're the only one to bother me at this time.”

As he's conversing with the animal, Plagg flies near the opening, keeping a safe distance in the air as he distinctly remembers how the little devil, Peppermint, tried eating him. He frowns at the feline as he mutters. “I don’t know why you bother feeding that monster everyday. She’s deadly!”

Gojo snorts. “I don’t know why I bother feeding you everyday, but I do.”

“Hey!” Plagg frowns. “I’m giving you superpowers. What is she doing— biting and scratching you despite your selflessness?”

“I don’t understand what you have against Peppermint. She’s an angel,” Gojo smiles, exhaustion leaving him as he watches the cat eat. “Plus, isn’t she your kind? Me being Chat Noir and all.”

Plagg pouts, “I only like the kind that likes me. She tried to murder me!”

“Oh, she was just curious,” Gojo chuckles, further antagonizing his supernatural friend. “I’m pretty sure—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sliding door from across him opens, the heavy sound alerting as he looks up and Plagg immediately rushing to hide. A girl around his age, dressed in a tank top and a flimsy pair of shorts. From the looks of it, Gojo realizes that he's not Peppermint's only caretaker. She's holding out a bowl, shaking it gently before calling out the name, Misty. Gojo can only assume the stranger means the cat. “Misty, is that you baby—Oh!”

When you spin your head around, you jump at the sight of someone else. Strikingly white blue hair that looks unreal and blue eyes that only match to his etherealness, Gojo stands tall on his feet before you glance down below to see the same cat that you were just about to feed. It’s the same guy that bumped into me to and from Communications class, you realize. Your eyes widen as you realize that Misty, the stray tuxedo cat, has someone else that regularly feeds her as well. And that someone else just witnessed you talking to a cat like a parent does a baby. Your face heats up as your hand tries to reach for the door handle. 

“Oh.” Your shoulders drop, a pout on your face at the realization. Gojo feels guilty at how your bright eyes have dropped as you're trying to head back inside. He throws his hands up, frightening the cat in process as she pauses from her supper, “Sorry, I didn't know someone else was already feeding her.”

You shake your head, dismissive as you reach for the sliding door handle. “It's fine. I'm sure that other people have also been feeding her throughout the day as well.”

“Well,” Gojo chuckles. “She knows who to go to at certain times of the day.”

You let go of the handle once more as you nod. “She usually comes around here during this time and early in the morning when I'm off to my classes.”

“We could…” His voice trails off as he shrugs at the impending suggestion. “We could have a schedule. You do mornings, I do evenings?”

“That sounds good,” you hum at the arrangement. You had created an attachment to the cat, and you didn't want to let the stray go all because of another stranger feeding her. There’s a period of silence, where you don’t know what to say. The cat has long finished the bowl of food, shimmying her little body through the cracks of the patio gate before running along. Gojo watches the cat skitter away before looking over at you, finding you so vaguely familiar. Thick white eyebrows scrunching together, his eyes squint as he tries to remember if you’re in one of his classes. You must attend the same university as him. “You attend the university, right?”

At your nod of confirmation, Gojo tilts his head, leaning over the railing with his hands dangling over. “What’s your major?”

“International business, you?”

“Oh, I’m in the business field, too,” he beams. “No wonder I recognized you. Are you in Professor Masamichi’s class for Communication by any chance? The one at 2:15.”

With your nod, Gojo lights up even more as he starts going off about the trivial things he’s experiencing with the class. You listen so intently as the boy goes on and on about the subject and how he’s been marked off by a few points for a couple of assignments, trying to figure out what he did wrong. 

Plagg, watching from a secluded corner, takes in the friendly engagement, eyes sparkling in intrigue as he observes Gojo interact with you. Due to their conflicting schedules, Gojo didn’t have much time to spend with Geto and Shoko anymore and whenever they did have little time, it seemed like another akumatized civilian popped up just to ruin his day. It led white-haired man into an unintentional road of seclusion and Plagg hoped that you could possibly be someone for him to lean on. 

After an hour of conversation, your yawn signaled Gojo that it was time to head inside as the street lamps flickered on and illuminated the darkening sky. Bidding each other farewells, both of you head back inside before realizing that neither of you had gotten each other’s name. 

—

If someone were to ask you what your Communications class was about, you wouldn’t be able to tell them exactly. It’s in the name itself essentially, but the pointless assignments and the lack of a proper syllabus is starting to get to you. It’s an easy class where you’re sure that you’re going to end up with a passing grade, but with the professor making up assignments on the spot, you were starting to doubt the benefits for this class. 

If only a villain would come and attack the professor right now, you can’t help but think to yourself. My day would be saved. When class was cancelled last week, it was a needed break. You caught yourself up with assignments and took the opportunity to start on future ones that still had some time to go before the professors genuinely started to care. Why couldn’t this class be the same?

Your eyes started to wander around, searching for nothing in particular, only hoping to gravitate towards something more interesting other than the bright screen up ahead. You tried refraining yourself from yawning, eyes watering as you held your breath. With a blink, a tear slid down your face and when you opened them back up, you saw a familiar head full of white hair in your line of vision. The guy who’s always late, it’s what you coined him early on in the semester. However, his new name’s updated to Misty’s— or, Peppermint’s— co-parent. 

He’s leaning back in his chair so lackadaisical, the front legs in the air and the chair so dangerously close to tipping over. He’s wearing those typical dark shades of his, shielding away his blue eyes even in this dim lighting. You never had much thoughts about him, minus the fact that he was always late to class. You came up with the conclusion that he didn’t take his classes seriously and even deducing from the long conversation the two of you had last night, you still hold some of your presumptions true based on his nonchalance and his seemingly don’t care attitude for the class. But in his complaining about his courses, you took some semblance that he did, in fact, want to pass. He just had a weird way of approaching it. Nonetheless, in the wee hour that you spoke to him, it brought some comfort to you when previously, your mind was droning on about all of the things that you needed to do. 

As your eyes stay fixated on him, you fail to realize that he can feel your eyes against him, the intuitive feeling of someone watching makes him shiver as he fixes the seat, the legs knocking on the floor before he’s turning his head in different directions before falling on you. With a quickness do you grow flustered, but your eyes remain on him before throwing a kind smile before finally turning away. 

With further realization of each other’s existence, it becomes a game of eye tag without much of a conversation, one of you always out of the lecture room before the other. It isn’t until one day Gojo miraculously is up around the time that you are that the two of you properly speak to each other again. 

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Gojo’s shirt rises and exposing a peak of his abdomen as he shuffles over to the small dining area. Wooden table that’s packed with junk, he reaches for the unopened bag of chips that he bought from a vending machine, making a quick decision that it’ll be his breakfast as he pulls out a seat. This wasn’t like him, being unable to get a good night’s rest. He could fall asleep at any time and wake up the next day if he truly tried to, so he just couldn’t quite understand why his body was doing this to him now. 

Leaning back in the chair, the faint sound of a patio door opening calls for his attention as he lifts his head up and peers to his left. Through the thin veiled curtains, he can roughly make out your figure as you’re bent down and pouring cat food into a bowl. Feeling himself inclined, Gojo finds himself opening the patio door and disturbing your moment with the feline as you look up. The ‘oh’ that falls from your lips this time around isn’t one of disappointment, but of familiarity as your eyes light up when you stand. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t fall asleep,” he yawns, stretching and revealing more skin as the air tickles his white happy trail. “You’ve got classes today?”

“Nah,” you admit with a sigh, closing the container of cat food and setting aside on the ground inside your apartment. You notice he doesn’t have on his glasses, never seeming to do so when he’s at home. You wonder if it’s a stylistic choice or an actual reasoning behind it. You don’t find yourself feeling comfortable enough to ask. “I’m just so used to waking up early that now I can’t stop.”

Another hour of meaningless conversation with each other before Gojo realizes that he could no longer keep it up. You’re leaning against the gate, legs crossed as you lay your weight down on one hip. You have bags under your eyes, but holding true to your statement, you don’t mind these early hours of the morning like he is. Gojo’s eyelids are falling heavily as he leans over the gate, his head falling forward. “I… gotta go. Don’t wanna fall asleep on ya.”

“Yeah,” you hum. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he stands tall and stretches once more. Gripping the patio door handle, he pauses. “I never did get your name. Considering that we’re sharing a cat, I think I ought to know.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you hum at the realization, sharing your name with him. “What’s yours?”

“Gojo,” he smiles. Shortly after, he’s back in bed asleep. His snores only last a few minutes in a sleepless dream when he feels Plagg on him, tugging at his hairs. 

“Satoru,” he whines, pulling with all his might in his tiny body. “Wake up! Hawk Moth’s at it again — another akumatized villain!”

When it finally registers to his brain, Gojo shoots out of bed, nearly sending Plagg across the room as he curses. In a whiny groan, Gojo throws himself off the bed. “God dammit!”

( 🐾 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @thotwiththoughts @hellokittyish @myahfig4 @kasukuna @aerareads @pixelcafe-network @fluerful @satsattoru

[yikesmary]

DRUNK GIANT — kim mingyu x reader

summary: in which you have to figure out how to transfer your drunk boyfriend to the bedroom without causing major bodily harm. and he’s not making it easy for you.

notes: this was really fun for me to write so i hope you guys like it!

join my taglist!

Your cell phone blared loudly, waking you up from your slumber. Your first instinct was to ignore it until whoever was calling you gave up, but when you looked at the digital clock that was on the nightstand and saw it was 1:03AM, you figured it was important.

You picked up your phone and the contact name “Mingyu’s Boyfriend” was display across the screen. “Hello? Wonwoo?” you greeted, your voice groggily and your eyes still adjusting.

“Hey, I’m in front of the house and me and Cheol can barely get him through the front door,” Wonwoo said.

“I thought Gyu was supposed to sleepover at yours so you didn’t have to drop him off?” You asked.

“Well, he refused to get in the car unless we said we’re going to you. And we might as well do it since— Mingyu’s in the bushes,” Wonwoo said, cutting himself off and you could hear the rustle of the bushes in the background.

“I’ll be there in a second,” you said, standing up.

“This isn’t meant to rush you or anything, but we have to drop off Hoshi and I don’t know if Seokmin will be able to dodge his kisses the drunker he gets. And we’ve had to separate Dino and Seungkwan from fighting more times than necessary,”

You opened the front door to see quite a sight; Seungcheol was trying to get Mingyu up and away from the bushes that were in front of your house and Wonwoo was a moment away from running away. "I thought you guys took three cars?" You asked, hanging up on the phone.

"Yeah, well, Jeonghan and Joshua were the drivers of the two other cars. And you probably know how that went when they saw how drunk the others were," Seungcheol sighed.

You laughed, knowing how sneaky both guys were. "How did Gyu get this drunk anyways?" you questioned, seeing both Wonwoo and Seungcheol exchange a look.

"That. What was that?" You asked, pointing at the both of them.

"Mingyu may have challenged me to a drinking game..." Seungcheol told you, and you groaned since Seungcheol had the best tolerance for alcohol.

"So you're telling me you're the reason why my boyfriend can barely stand up? And why didn't you stop him?" You directed your first question to Seungcheol and then the second to Wonwoo.

"I couldn't find them in the club! I was too busy trying to stop Seungkwan and Seokmin from dancing on top of the tables," Wonwoo defended himself.

The three of you looked at Mingyu, who had finally noticed that you were there. "Baby!" He slurred, standing up on his own. But that didn't last long as he had stumbled into your arms once he was close enough.

"Gyu, why'd you have to challenge Cheol on drinking?" you asked, trying your best to adjust him, but considering he towered over you, it was difficult to.

"Could you put him on the couch in the living room? I'll take care of the rest," you asked the only two men who were sober.

They nodded, and each men took Mingyu's arm and when you opened the door for them, they put him on the couch. They weren't delicate with it either; they just plopped him onto the couch and he nearly slipped off if it wasn't for Wonwoo pushing him back.

Wonwoo and Seungcheol said goodbye to you and once they left, you were left with a drunk Mingyu, with the mission to get him to your shared bedroom.

"Baby, c'mon, you have to help me out here," you asked, but all he did was mumble and move his head.

"Kim Mingyu, if you don't help me right now... Something will happen!"

You were tempted to leave him on the couch and leave him there, but you would've felt guilty if you did. Also, there were countless times where he took care of you when you were sick or drunk, so you felt you should do the same.

"Gyu, I'm not above bribing you, so if you stand up and walk to our room, I'll give you kisses," you negotiated.

Once you finished your sentence, Mingyu's head snapped up so fast that you swore he nearly broke his neck. "Kisses?" he whispered, but it sounded more like 'kith' with how drunk he was and how his lisp came out.

"All the kisses you want, you just have to go to our room and lay in our bed,"

In an instant, like Mingyu gained a boost, he was able to stand himself up and dart to your room, the fastest you've seen him.

You shook your head and followed him, shocked at how easy that was.

"I wonder if Wonwoo were to offer kisses, if Mingyu would've done it,"

[holdmytesseract]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a Daryl Dixon in the first few seasons when he got shot and an arrow to the side. Where the reader is taking care of him while he is recovering.

Approaches

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When Andrea mistakes Daryl for a walker and shots him, you are here to take care of the injured archer; causing the both of you to get closer...

Set in Season 2!

Warnings: Andrea? gunshot, weapons, TWD stuff, blood, injuries, fluff, idiots in love?

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this! I never wrote S2 Daryl before, so... Very exciting! I hope you like it, nonny and thanks for requesting!

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

You were in Dale's RV, peacefully napping on the little bench with your back pressed up against the window and your body squashed between the back rest and the small table. Your actual plan was to study the map Hershel had given your group, in order to search for Sophia - and not to doze off, but well... Your body had a different opinion on your priorities. And you'd have definitely slept for another while, if not a loud noise ripped you cruelly out of your sleep.

You shot up; heart hammering against your chest. A gunshot. It was a gunshot! "Shit," you cursed and scrambled to get up. On slightly wobbly feet - due to your rushed movements, you more or less stumbled down the few steps of the RV and immediately ran to the front. You saw Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn up ahead on the meadow in distance waving and shouting something like mad men.

"What happened?" You asked and looked to your right, where Dale stood on the little ladder which led to the RV's roof. Andrea kneeled on top; rifle in hands and smiling victoriously. "Apparently a walker made-," was all Dale could say, before he got interrupted by quick footsteps coming from the house and Hershel's voice.

"What on earth is going on out here?" He yelled; all the other's gathering around him. All eyes were directed on the four men, but when they started to crouch around the 'walker' and lift him up to his feet, everybody soon realised that the walker was definitely not a walker.

"Oh my god, is that...?" Andrea spoke almost in a panicked voice; quickly ushering Dale down the ladder, so that she could climb down as well.

You took a few steps forward; squeezing your eyes shut to identify the 'walker', but deep down, you already knew. No ten seconds later, your eyes widened; heart rate picking up again. "Daryl! Oh my god, that's Daryl!" You started to run; Andrea following you behind.

"I-Is he dead?" You asked Rick and Shane - who had each draped one arm of the archer over their shoulders and carrying him, in a quivering voice. Rick shook his head. "Nah, just unconscious," the leader answered; then turned his gaze to a shaken Andrea. "Bullet only grazed him."

Slight relief washed over you, but your worries nevertheless didn't cease. Daryl looked bad. All caked in dirt and mud; his top soaked in blood. You couldn't tell if it was his own or from walkers.

Chewing on your thumbnail, you watched how Shane and Rick dragged the archer inside the house, so that Hershel could take care of his wound. You hesitatingly followed them and sat down on the steps of the porch; soon getting lost in thoughts.

It wasn't like you and Daryl were a thing or something. Actually not at all. However, you had grown very fond of him the past days and weeks. Something intrigued you and seemed to draw you closer to Daryl. You liked him. A lot. Most of the group only saw his rough and edged exterior, but you also saw that he had also a different side. His selflessness. Braveness. Protectiveness. You knew Daryl was a good man.

Almost everyone of the group had noticed, of course, that you had cast an eye on the crossbow-wielding redneck. You weren't quite subtle in your words and gestures; how you acted around him. You, though, you were oblivious to the others observations.

"Hey, Y/N," a voice urged to your ears and caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Turning your head to the left, you saw how Lori placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?"

You gave her a soft smile. "Yeah, sure." She nodded and gestured towards the main door. "You should go to him," Lori said and gave you a wink as she passed you by. "He's upstairs." Your eyes followed the brown haired woman, before they travelled over to the door. Biting your lip, you stood up and made your way inside.

Just as you set foot in the hallway, you saw Hershel exiting a room to the left; some medical stuff in hands. The older man saw you approaching and gave you a nod. "H-How is he? Is it bad?" Hershel shook his head. "He'll live. A few days of rest and he should be a'right again." Now you were the one who nodded. "Thank you." He gave you an uptight smile as he passed you by. "Can I, uh, go to him?" "Of course." With those words, Hershel was out of your sight; left you standing alone in the hallway.

You stared at the doorhandle for a moment, took a deep breath and knocked. A gruff 'Yeah' coming from inside the room allowed you to step inside. So, you did.

Gently closing the door behind yourself, your eyes fell on Daryl, who was snugly wrapped up in a blanket on the bed; a bandage around his head. At the sound of your footsteps, he turned; now facing you.

"Hey," you softly greeted him; giving him a small smile. "Thought I'll come look after you..." You were still concerned about his well-being. After all, he was shot - even though the bullet just grazed. "How are you feeling?"

Daryl shook his shoulders with a grunt. "'M fine." You weren't neither convinced by the answer nor were you believing that he was telling the truth, but you decided to leave it for now. So, you just nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him; gently placing a hand on his arm. Your skin on his didn't fail to send a shiver down your spine. This bold, simple gesture was already enough to drive the butterflies within your stomach wild - and not just yours...

You were totally oblivious to Daryl's slight flinch as you suddenly touched his arm; eyelids fluttering for just a moment. It wasn't like the others from the group hadn't 'touched' him before... A clap from Rick on the back, Carol's hand on his shoulder. Simple gestures, which he usually wasn't fond of. Bad memories were connected with touch, so he learned to avoid it. But your touch... Your palm on his forearm... That was different.

"What happened?" You whispered. Daryl could see worry in your eyes. Honest concern. You didn't just ask out of politeness, no... You meant it.

Once more he shrugged his shoulders; trying to play it cool. "Horse threw me off, fell down a slope 'n well... Caused one of ma arrows to kinda impale me." Your eyes widened. "Hang on, wha'? You got impaled by your arrow?!" "Yeah, 's not a big deal." You felt how your heart sped up. "Not a big deal?! Daryl, you could've died!"

He shook his head. "Nah. I ain't jus' die like a pussy. 'S a boring death. 'Sides Hershel got me fixed again."

You blinked; little bit overwhelmed by the information and his words. You swallowed; worry taking over then once again.

"Are you in pain? Is there something I can do for you?"

And that was the moment Daryl's cool façade started to crumble down entirely. You were so sweet and kind to him - something he didn't deserve. And yet you willingly gave it to him. From that day on, Daryl stopped pushing you away. He let you stay with him while his wounds healed; let you entertain him with a book you read out loud or some of your funny childhood and teenager stories. You brought him food, made sure he stayed hydrated in the Georgia heat and cleaned his wounds and changed the bandages. You were no nurse, but you had at least a little experience.

"I don't hurt you, do I?" You asked while you carefully dabbed the wound on his temple, where Andrea's bullet had grazed him. "Nah, ya don't. 'S all good." "Good." You gave Daryl a small smile, before you concentrated on cleaning the wound again. Daryl's blue-grey eyes watched you intensely; saw the frown on your face and the tip of your tongue poking out between your closed lips. His heart fluttered. You looked cute - and he could've watched you for several hours like this, but unfortunately you were way to quickly finished and before he could blink, you had patched his wound again and with that your touch was gone.

"There you go. All finished." "Thank you," Daryl croaked out; his voice definitely more hoarse than usual. You nervously tucked a loose strand behind your ear, "Of course." before meeting his gaze; looking into his beautiful blue-grey orbs.

The tension between you and him was literally cuttable with a knife as you stared into each other's eyes; totally lost. Neither of you didn't even notice how you moved closer. Daryl propping himself up on his elbows, while you leaned down; on your way to meet him halfway.

But when the redneck's brain finally managed to catch up with the situation he was in and suddenly realised that he was inches away from kissing you, his mind panicked and immediately went to pull up the invisible walls he had built around himself through the years - and so Daryl turned his head away, before your lips could touch his; clearing his throat.

"I should... I should get some more sleep."

You immediately sat back on your haunches; the beautiful, intimate moment gone. Bursted in front of your eyes like a bubble. You cleared your throat as well; nodding. "Yeah, I, uh, I should go, too. 'S getting dark soon, so, uh, time for dinner, right?" You tried to stay cool and just play off what happened a few seconds ago, but you were not very good at it - and Daryl noticed. Nevertheless, he played along.

"Yeah, right."

You gave him a soft, uptight smile and got up. "I, uh, I'll come back later to bring you dinner, okay?" "Alrigh'." Another awkward smile crossed your lips, before you went to leave hit tent; zipping it shut behind yourself.

The moment you were gone, Daryl led himself fall back down on his sleeping bag with a frustrating groan; rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to - but he just got cold feet. His fear of letting someone getting too close to him in the way.

He groaned again. "Ya fuckin' coward..."

Tags: @suniloli @stitchintimefan @celtic-crossbow @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @fuseburner @sweetz1919 @in-this-minute @mandywholock1980 @lou12346789 @mischief-dream @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328

[babydollmarauders]

OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

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jackhughes 3/3

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subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

*

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

[jasmines-library]

I know i’ve already sent in a lot of requests, i practically live in your inbox(not sorry), but i just wanted to know if you could whip up some really angsty stuff?

Maybe something with reader being on patrol and she just randomly passes out and just won’t wake up again?

idk, i’m just craving your content😞🙏

Veins

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Note: Anything for you my love. Dont feel bad for sending them in, i smile everytime your name is in my inbox. sorry for the wait. :))

Warnings: Poison/drugging, passing out, needles, ivs but non graphic

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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There it was again. That funny feeling. You couldn’t quite place it, but it tickled the back of your mind. Physically, you felt fine. There was just something off about the whole night. Tim was running alongside you, the soles of his boots making little to no noise as he weaved nimbly down the street. Dick was slightly ahead; you were watching his six.The three of you were currently pursuing Poison Ivy, who royally pissed off, was threatening to release a batch of poisons into the water supply; naturally, it was your job to try and stop her before she could actually get there. Batman was also in pursuit, but he was coming from the other side of the city which meant that the chances of you and your brothers stopping Ivy before she got there were pretty high. 

You had almost caught up with Ivy when it happened. You could see her ahead, her torn clothes flapping against the winds that whipped between the skyscrapers and whistled down the alleyways. You pushed yourself to run faster, feeling the burn in your calves as you raced towards her auburn figure. You would have caught her if you didn’t catch a glimpse of one of her goons perched on a window ledge. It was dark, but you could practically see his crooked grin as he leered down at the three unsuspecting vigilantes. By the time you had realised what was actually happening, it was too late. 

The needle dug deep into your neck, with such a blunt force that you would have yelped if you didn’t have the sense to plaster your hand over your lips. It stung and would most certainly leave a bruise later. But what worried you was not, the soon to be bruise, but the groggy sensation that began to settle over you. 

Blindly reaching for the syringe, you pulled it from your neck with a grunt. It clattered to the floor. Everything seemed to swim before you in a mix of colours. It made you feel sick. And suddenly your body felt numb, stubborn limbs refusing to move how they normally would. You lurched forward stumbling and trying to grip onto the wall to keep yourself upright. It was hardly any use though; whatever they had stuck you with made it nearly impossible to tell which way was up as your world span. You had fallen behind, moving without a coherent thought as you tried to keep up with the speck that you thought was Tim. Everything was too loud, but you could make out no sounds, just a piercing ringing. 

“R’vn…” Someone was talking to you. You weren’t even aware you had stopped and hands swam in front of your face. Touching. Someone was touching you; their hands were against your shoulders trying to keep you upright. But who…

There was no face in front of you. Only a mangled mess of colours and an echo of your code name frantically falling from their lips. They were trying to get you to respond, to say anything but your eyes and glassed over and your limbs had fallen limp in against the stone wall you had been stumbling against. 

And then your body gave up completely.

Tim had to scramble to catch your body as you keeled over, ragdolling into his arms with limbs splayed out in each direction. He cursed, panicked and settled you down on the ground to stand over you. Wide eyed, he pressed the emergency signal on his coms, praying that Dick would get to you quickly and that Batman was close enough to catch Ivy. 

He tried your name again, shaking you by the shoulders. There was no response; your head just lolled to the side. It was then that he realised your body was hot. Far too hot. He struggled to get off his glove before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You didn’t even stir. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dick skidded to a stop beside his brother, palling at the sight of you on the ground. “What happened?”

“I-i don’t know. She was fine one minute and the next she practically collapsed against the wall-” Tim stuttered, unable to keep his composure. Usually, he was the one with the steady hand they could all rely on, but now he was completely short circuiting. 

With a curt nod, Dick tried to shake you awake, calling your name.

“I tried that.” Tim stated. 

Dick nearly snapped at his brother for making an irritating statement when he saw the lines spider-webbing up your neck. They were thin and black, spindling out like branches of a tree devoid of its leaves. Twisting your head gently to the side, Dick revealed it to Tim who swallowed thickly. 

“Drugged?” He asked meekly.

Dick shook his head. “Poisoned.”

Tim shifted his vision anxiously between Dick and you. His head perked up when something clattered off to their right. Dick was up in an instant, standing over you with his escrima sticks flickering with their angry blue charge. Tim reddied his bo staff.

“Go find them.” Nightwing ordered, standing over you protectively.  “I’ll watch her.”

Tim darted off for a moment as the older boy watched you with shifty eyes, hardly relaxing when he returned a few moments later. By that time you had begun sweating and your skin had grown clammy and gaunt .When he looked at him with optimistic eyes, the younger boy shook his head. 

“Nothing. But I did find this.” He produced a small syringe filled with a dark green liquid. The one you had pulled frantically from your neck.

“Good! That's good.” Dick exclaimed, taking a shaky breath. “We need to get her back to the cave. Page Alfred. Get him to prepare the infirmary.”

“On it.”

Sliding his hands under your body, he scooped up your limbs with ease. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

~

“Get her on the bed, quick.”

Alfred was on the two boys as soon as he heard the cave entrance fling open. Dick was sling clinging to you as he bustled through the door, hot on Tim’s heels who forced everyone out of the way. They all watched you with worried creases etched onto their complexions. 

Dick lay you down on the bed. As soon as he was out of the way Alfred was replacing the empty space beside you, inspecting the spread of the poison. It had now begun to crawl down your arms and up the side of your face. Your features seemed sunken and your heart rate was dangerously slow. 

He reached for a needle of his own, sliding it into your skin before hooking you up to an IV. 

“What’s that?” Tim asked. His voice wavered. 

“Hopefully an antidote and some fluids to flush it out of her system. Babs managed to analyse the sample you sent over. The poison is lethal, but because she managed to pull it out before the whole thing entered her system, we think this should help.”

“And if it doesn't?” Jason’s voice asked from where he had been lingering in the doorway.

“Let's hope it does.”

~

It took much longer than they had hoped for you to wake up, but nevertheless you did. Slowly but surely you cracked open your eyes and blinked at them groggily. It seemed that Alfred and Babs had been spot on; the antidote worked, but it made everyone nervous to think that if you hadn’t pulled out the toxin when you had, the situation could have been very different. Damian cringed at the thought. 

They had all been there when you woke up. They had been taking it in turns to watch you because they couldn;t bear the thought of you waking up alone, but when Jason called out that you were stirring they all rushed to your side to sit with you. 

It was nice to wake up with the all beside you, despite the fact that you felt like death. Probably because you had been so close to it. 

Ivy was arrested and sent to Arkham without much of a second thought.Batman had caught her before she managed to release the rest of her poisons. She had made an attempt on your life. It was safe to say that she deserved jail time for that, though there was no saying how long she was actually going to stay there for. 

The air was much lighter in the manor now that you were awake. You were still on bed rest for a short while, much to your protests and grumbling. But, luckily for you you were surrounded by a whole handful of people that wanted to do things for you that you didn’t even need help with. Not that you minded too much… Either way, they were there for you completely throughout your recovery, glad that you were going to be just fine.

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff

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[fadedncity]

safety net

wc: 4.6k

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: smut, bsf!jeno, friends to lovers, non idol au, haunted attractions, reader has coulrophobia (a fear of clowns), use of fake blood, (soft)dom!jeno, teasing, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, manhandling, spanking, fingering, praise kink, oral sex (receiving/giving), protected sex, aftercare…pretty sure that’s it

song inspo: safety net by ariana grande feat. ty dolla sign

You could hear the screams coming from inside as you and your friends moved up in the line. You nervously bounced on the balls of your feet, glancing at every person passing, keeping an eye out for the horror actors who were going around jump-scaring patrons.

Jeno noticed you become more anxious, unable to stop fidgeting.

"You're not too thrilled about this, are you?" he asks.

"What would make you say that?" you furrow your brows, clearly unaware of it written all over you.

"You seem a little on edge."

"What? No, I'm fine-" You turn to find the presence you felt creeping up behind you. You're face to face with a clown mask and almost jump out of your skin, letting out a small shriek.

But hearing Haechan's laugh, your fear quickly turns into anger as the boy pulls the mask away.

"Donghyeok, I swear I'm gonna fucking-" You lunged at him, only to be stopped by two strong arms.

"We don't need you laying him out here in the park before we even get to the door," Jeno says.

You grumbled, "Fine, but if he's missing from the headcount after this you know what happened," you glared at the Gemini, flipping him off as he stuck his tongue out at you.

"You know we don't have to do this you know, you and I can get off the line now." Jeno offers you one last out as the line continues to grow behind you.

"I know. I'll be fine. I just hate clowns," you peer over Jeno's shoulder at the actor in the clown costume standing across the lot, scaring other passersby in the park.

"I won't let anything happen to you, alright? I promise." Jeno says reassuringly.

"Thank you, Jen," you smile at him.

Your friends were the next group in line to enter the attraction. The big glaring neon letters in bright red, reading Hollow's Horror above the entrance, followed by a disclaimer of what could happen once you're inside. 

"So you gonna make a move tonight?" Minjeong whispers.

"What?" you ask.

"You and Jeno," she nods to the boy ahead of you, talking to Jaemin.

"Me and Jeno are just friends."

"Yeah, okay," Minjeong sarcastically nodded, "'I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.'" She mimicked Jeno's voice, and you elbow her.

"Hey, Johnny, you sure no one's ever died inside this thing?" Renjun asks the seasonal employee.

"Few people have passed out or accidentally injured themselves running and tripping over something, so the EMTs are on standby," Johnny answers. "All I'll say is the more scared you are, the more they're likely to go after you," he says, looking your way like he's talking to you directly. "But no, no one has died. Yet," Johnny says with a wicked grin as the doors open and your group is ushered inside. 

"Yet?? Did he just say yet?" Ningning questions as Jimin drags her along inside. 

You all stood in the dimly lit room, listening to Ten as he went over the rules and guidelines of the attraction. Minjeong unsubtly nudged you in Jeno's direction, causing you to stumble into him, and you shoot her a death glare over your shoulder.

"You ready?" Jeno asks you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you sigh, following everyone else into the haunted house. 

. . .

"How'd I even get talked into this? Everyone else could be dead for all we know."

"You know damn well everyone's fine. We just got separated." Jeno says, continuing to lead the way, "Look, Chenle's still on live with Jisung and Ningning," he shows his phone, and you see Chenle hysterically laughing as the three of them are chased through a corn maze by an actor with a chainsaw.

"Of course he is, he loves this shit," you shake your head, peering around the corner on the lookout for another scarer.

"Come on, we're almost out," Jeno nodded in the direction of another doorway.

"How are you sure?"

"Yangyang's been raving about this thing since Hendery went last year. He's watched all the vlogs and read all the reviews. He practically has his own blueprint of this place, and I'm pretty sure the funhouse is one of the last."

The first three letters were scratched out and replaced with others to spell out Bloodhouse instead, and you glare at Jeno.

"Oh come on, you gotta be shitting me," you protest, hearing the circus-themed music grow louder. 

"You can do this, I have faith in you," Jeno holds out his hand, "And I'll be with you the entire time."

You let out a displeased sigh as you take Jeno's hand and follow him into the hall of mirrors. 

"Just try to relax and stay calm. If they smell your fear they'll come for you," Jeno whispers dramatically.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe. But if it didn't, you know I still got you," Jeno reassuringly squeezed your hand. 

You let Jeno take the lead, holding his hand firmly as he guided you through the maze of electronic attractions, jumping out at the both of you as you passed them by. 

Jeno was seemingly moving fast through the poorly lit room, wanting to get you out as soon as possible. But the next corner you turn, you find two actors dressed as killer clowns shuffling around, awaiting their next victims.

Jeno feels your body tense up as you lock eyes with one of them.

"Stay calm," he says as both clowns stalk toward you.

"I can't," you say, your breathing becoming heavy. 

"Okay, so we run," he says.

Still holding hands, the maniacal laughter follows you both down a narrow hallway, where you feel hands grab at you both through the railings. But just as you both escape the hands grabbing at you, the sprinklers above your heads go off, spraying you and Jeno in fake blood.

Still processing all the red you're seeing, neither of you has the chance to react as another clown jumps out at you, yelling, "Give Lucky a big smile!"

You instantly grab Jeno, screaming bloody murder as a bright flash goes off. The actor shoved the Polaroid into Jeno's hands as the evil laughter grew louder and louder, more actors swarming you both. With his arms around you, Jeno takes you the rest of the way out of the haunted walk-through.

Complimentary towels were offered to you and Jeno as you exited the attraction with I Survived the Night at Hollow's Horror embroidered into the fabric. 

Still, in a bit of shock, it takes a second for you to register that it's over, and you're now back in the crowd of the theme park.

"Oh thank god, we're done," you practically collapse into Jeno's arms, "I couldn't take anymore of that."

"You okay?"

"Might have nightmares for a few days, but I'll live," you wipe your face clean of the fake blood.

"Well guess what, you did it. I'm proud of you," Jeno says, causing warmth to bloom in your chest.

"Holy shit, what the hell happened to you guys?" a familiar voice grabs both of your attention.

You and Jeno find most of your friends crowded outside, waiting for you and the few others still inside.

"They definitely got the bloodhouse," Jaemin said.

Haechan erupted into laughter, "Of course you did out of all people."

"You know Haechan just cause you made it through the haunted house doesn't guarantee you'll make it through the rest of the night." you started, but Jeno immediately put himself between you both.

"We survived!" Chenle yells triumphantly.

He runs toward your group with Jisung and Ningning not too far behind, all three of them wrapped up in their own complementary towels.

"Why are you guys wet?" Jimin asks.

"We ended up in the shark tank," Jisung says, chittering his teeth.

"Shark tank!? And this thing is legal??" Aeri asks.

"They definitely weren't real sharks," Yangyang says.

"You sure about that? Cause the teeth on that thing looked pretty real," Ningning said, hugging the towel tighter around herself. 

"Who cares? We're definitely coming back next year." Chenle declares.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

. . .

"You didn't have to drive me home. I could've gone with Jimin," you say once on the front steps of your house.

"I know I didn't have to," Jeno shrugs, "But I wanted to."

"Well, thank you. Not just the ride but everything tonight. I don't know if I would've survived without you," you say lightheartedly.

"I promised you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, didn't I?"

You laugh, "Goodnight, Jeno."

"Goodnight," he says.

But neither of you move, your hand resting on the doorknob, wordlessly staring at Jeno.

"Everything okay?" Jeno asks.

"Yeah," you nod.

"Cause this is the part where you take out your keys and unlock the door so I know you've made it inside safely before I leave," he says, "Unless you don't want me to leave-" you cut him off with your lips on his.

Jeno's hands reach for your waist and pull you closer. You curl your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Your hands find his hair, raking your fingers through the stiff strands dried with food dye and corn syrup.

"Do you wanna come in?" you ask.

"Do you want me to come in?" he retorts.

"You could at least come inside to wash up. It's the least I can offer."

. . .

The steam left from your shower poured out of the bathroom the second you opened the door and stepped into your bedroom, now wearing clean clothes.

"Whatcha looking at?" you ask, rubbing the last of your moisturizer into your hands.

You find Jeno on your bed, redressed in new clothes; a shirt, and some sweatpants he left at your place a while ago. You climb onto your bed, sit beside him, and see the Polaroid picture Jeno's looking at in his hands.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," you take the picture as Jeno hands it to you.

"This is officially my favorite picture."

"Why? I look crazy!" you point to the terrified expression the photographer caught while you were mid-scream.

"I kinda think it's cute, I mean look at us. You're clinging onto me for dear life. I thought I was gonna lose my arm," Jeno jokes.

"Alright, you know what, I've had enough of you," you playfully roll your eyes, ready to stand and walk away. But Jeno doesn't give you the chance to get too far, grabbing your waist and pulling you back down into his lap.

"Well, that's too bad, because I definitely haven't gotten enough of you," he rubs his hands over your thighs as you lean closer.

You smile against Jeno's lips, cupping his face as you kiss him. Jeno rests his hand on your lower back, pressing firmly against your spine. You comb your fingers through his damp hair and swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips. As your tongues clash, Jeno's hands cup your ass, subtly directing you to roll your hips into his allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants.

"Wait-" Jeno stops kissing you.

"Oh my god, did I completely miss read this?" you drop your hands from his face.

"No, no," Jeno quickly clarifies, taking your hands in his, "It's just I don't want you to think I just wanna sleep with you."

"Oh."

"I mean, no, trust me I do—god knows how bad I want to. But I wanna be clear that I like you, y/n. Like really like you. And I need you to know that I'm not just using you—"

"Hey," you cut off his rambling, "I know you're not like that," you stroke his cheek, and Jeno sheepishly smiles, "So you like me, huh? Like really like me?" you teasingly smirk, resting your arms over his shoulders.

"You really think I would've just let Haechan drag me out tonight if you weren't gonna be there. You know I don't really care for that type of stuff. But for you…" he trails off.

"It's funny you say that, because I was pretty adamant about not going until Aeri told me you were."

"Sounds like we're pretty perfect for each other," Jeno says with a laugh.

"I mean it's not like nothing good came out of this," you smile, kissing his lips.

"No, lie there."

You softly nibble down on his bottom lip, making him quietly groan. You feel his fingers dig into your hips, lightly scratching his nails down your exposed thighs, causing you to gasp against his lips. Jeno takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes the remaining fruity flavor of the gummies you were chewing on in the car on your lips.

Your hips drag against Jeno's, and you feel his cock through your shorts.

Jeno pulls you flush against his body and begins softly pressing kisses down the side of your neck, making you moan and arch into his touch.

"Jen," you call his name.

"Yeah, princess?" you almost moan as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

"I need you."

"I'm right here, baby. Can't think to be anywhere else right now. I'm all yours."

Jeno switches places with you, laying you down on the bed, your lips still attached.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, angel?"

"Please," you nod.

Jeno admired you as you lay beneath him. "Just tell me if it's too much, you wanna stop, or even if you just need a break, okay?"

You nod, just hoping he'd touch you already.

"I'm gonna need words, pretty."

"Okay," you reassuringly nod again.

Jeno softly kisses your lips, and you feel his hand roam your body, kneading every place he can reach except where you want him most.

"You're so beautiful, princess," Jeno smirks, slipping his hands under your shirt and palming your breasts. You mewl into his touch as he started lifting your shirt. "So, so pretty," he hums, eyeing your perky nipples before he lowers himself and takes one into his mouth.

With his tongue swirling around your areola, Jeno had his hand occupied with your other nipple, rolling and tweaking it between his fingers.

Curling your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck, you moan and arch your back into his mouth. You squirm beneath his body, the ache between your legs growing even stronger.

"Patience, baby," Jeno pulls away from you, "I like taking my time," he runs his hands up your thighs, softly squeezing your flesh.

"You know I'm not known for my patience," you say.

"Guess you better learn quickly then."

One of his fingers lightly trailed up your inner thigh. He took his finger and traced your clothed slit with a feather-light touch. You tried to raise your hips against his hand. But he pins your hips to the bed.

Jeno tsks, shaking his head. "You want something, angel, you gotta ask for it."

"Touch me," you breathe out.

"I am, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean," you say, irritation evident in your tone.

"No, I'm not sure. You want me to touch you here?" Jeno asks, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"Yes," you buck your hips into his hand.

"Yes, what?"

"Please, Jeno," you frustratedly fist the sheets.

"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it," his tone is soft as he applies more pressure to your clit.

"Fuck. Just fucking touch my pussy, Jen, please," you beg.

"Atta girl," he praised. "Wasn't so hard just using your words, now was it." he smiled as he removed your shorts along with your underwear.

"Fuck off-" your words are choked up by a moan as Jeno's fingers sink inside you.

"What was that?" Jeno asks, but you can't respond other than with another moan, "That's what I thought."

Jeno scissors his two fingers against your soft walls. The muscles in his arms flex every time he pumps his digits in and out of you.

"Feels good, huh, baby?" he watches your face twist up in pleasure as he curls his fingers.

"Yes."

He plants a few kisses on your face, "You want more?"

"Please, Jen, I need more. It feels so good," 

"That's it, princess. Taking my fingers like such a good girl."

"Don't stop. Please-" The stretch of Jeno's three fingers made it harder to think. Jeno watched his fingers disappear inside you, reappearing with a layer of slick coating them.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. I've got you," Jeno talks you through it.

You weren't watching him, but you felt the bed shift.

"Oh my god!" you cry.

The most beautiful sound Jeno's ever heard came from your lips as he took your clit into his mouth. He directed one of your legs over his shoulder as he buried his face deeper between your legs.

"Come on, sweetness, say my name. Tell me who's making you feel so good."

"Jeno~"

He purred before dropping his head back down. Jeno wrapped his arms under your thighs, spreading your legs further apart. You writhed and thrashed in his hold, attempting to grind your hips against his mouth, but his strength never let up. Jeno's strong arms held you right where he wanted you. He lapped at your folds, using his fingers to part your lips, revealing your leaking hole, clenching around nothing.

Jeno hummed before delving back in. His eyes fluttered shut as he wiggled his tongue inside of you.

"Jen—fuck. I'm gonna-"

"Cum? You wanna cum for me?" he slipped his fingers back into your pussy.

"Yes, please, Jeno! I wanna cum for you," you whine.

You grab Jeno's wrist, rolling your hips against his hand as he curls his fingers just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you.

"Please-" you gasp.

Jeno kissed your thigh. "Cum," he practically growled.

Jeno sucked on your clit as your noises got louder. His fingers curled against your soft, gummy walls, and the obscene squelching of your juices mixing with his saliva filled your ears.

Your back arched off the bed, your fingers pulling at the roots of Jeno's hair. Your legs fought against his strength, threatening to close around his head.

"Jeno—ah!"

You quietly whimper when his fingers easily slip out of you. Your eyes blinked in and out of focus as Jeno licked his fingers clean with a delighted hum. He checks on you, softly cradling your face.

"Look at me," Jeno says, "Are you alright?" 

"Mhm," you nod, "You know it's been a minute since someone else has made me cum. That hard, especially."

"Which is why I was more than happy to do for you, baby," He kisses your lips, "I don't know if I would've been able to handle hearing about another one of your pathetic hookups," he mumbled.

You raise your brows and kiss your teeth, "You're one to talk. I'd rather have brunch with Pennywise than hear one more story about someone else's mind blowing orgasm from your supposed magic tongue."

"Are you saying my magic tongue didn't just give you a mind blowing orgasm?" Jeno raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you cross your arms over your chest.

"Aww, don't get like that, angel," Jeno uncrosses your arms. "Would it make you feel better to know I've never been that close to cumming untouched. Just from eating you out," he says, motioning toward the prominent outline in his shorts, and you notice the darkened spot of precum staining the material.

"How close?" you ask, sitting up with a smile threatening to spread on your face.

"Very close."

"Yeah?" you place your hand in his lap and start palming him over his clothes. "At least let me return the favor, you've been so good to me, Jen, let me make you feel good too," you gently trace the outline of his cock, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

He gave you a nod, and you pulled his cock out of his pants, grasping his length in his hand. Jeno hisses as you slowly jerk your wrist, teasing his tip with your thumb. Wasting no more time, you took his cock into your mouth, welcoming the weight of him on your tongue. You hummed around him, letting the salty precum coat your tastebuds.

You look up at him through your lashes, seeing him intently watching your ministrations. You lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, his eyes refusing to leave your face, and they threaten to shut.

Spit dribbled out of your mouth onto his cock, assisting your hand in pumping the base. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, softly sucking the angry red tip.

"Holy shit," Jeno groaned. The hand resting on your head gently grasped your hair, lightly tugging your head back. "I'm gonna fucking spoil you," he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

You collapse back onto your bed to watch as Jeno grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it over his head, and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth seeing his adonis-like figure above you.

Jeno smiles, his ego definitively inflated a bit as he kicks off his sweats along with his boxers. Hooking his arms under your thighs, Jeno pulls you away from the head of the bed and back toward him.

As Jeno looked at you, the most unholy thoughts ran rampant through his mind.

"God, I love seeing you like this," he kissed your chest, "All I wanna do is ruin you," he darkly smiled.

"Please do," you grin before he sinks two fingers into your pussy.

Your eyes roll back, feeling his fingers wiggle against your soft walls.

"Such a needy little thing you are," Jeno said as he added another finger.

"Just for you," you moan.

You let out a small whine in protest when Jeno removes his fingers, using your juices on his hand to pump his cock.

"Get on your hands and knees for me?" Jeno's question comes out more like a gentle order, and you roll over onto your stomach, raising your hips into the air.

While you reposition yourself, having familiarized himself with your room, Jeno reaches into your nightstand, retrieving a condom for himself.

"This is definitely a view I can get used to," Jeno runs his hand down your spine before harshly bringing his hand down on your right asscheek, making you moan.

"Come on, Jen," you mewl, pushing your hips back into his as he rolls the condom onto his length.

"So impatient," he tsked, "Can't even properly admire you, baby," he smacked the other side of your ass.

"Jeno!"

His laugh melted into a deep groan as he slid his cock into you. 

"Oh my god," your eyes roll back, and your jaw clenches.

"Yeah?"

"You feel so fucking deep. Feels so good,"

"Pussy feels so goddamn good around me. It's like you're perfectly meant to take my cock, princess."

Jeno pulled both of your arms behind your back, holding your wrists with only one of his hands, using them to pull you back onto his cock repeatedly. You whined shamelessly into the sheets as Jeno continued to fuck you into the mattress.

You know right here and now isn't the ideal time for this thought to occur to you, but knowing Jeno's heard about every aspect of your sex life, and has remembered things you've mindlessly mentioned being into in passing, only causes you to lose any sort of composure you had left. You hold onto his wrist, moaning carelessly, your pussy choking Jeno's cock as it moves rhythmically in and out of your soaking cunt.

Jeno's movements started to pick up, and the harsh sound of his hips slamming into yours filled your ears beyond your own cries and whimpers.

"Jen, please I'm-"

"Yeah, come on, baby, give it to me," he rasped in your ear, "Cum for me."

You could feel Jeno's cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy. Jeno quickly pulled out of you before he also came, flaring his nostrils and clenching his jaw when he denied himself from cumming just yet.

Pressing kisses up your spine, Jeno asks, "Think you got one more for me?" slipping his middle finger into your overstimulated cunt.

A moan squeals out of your lips, and you nod. With ease, Jeno rolls you back over, pulling your legs apart to settle between them.

"Such a needy little cock slut. You already love the way I fill you up, don't you?" he asks, running the tip of his cock up your slit.

"Love it so much." you nod eagerly.

Your eyes roll back as Jeno bottoms out once more. 

"If only you could see yourself, princess," Jeno softly wraps his hand around your throat, "All fucked out and taking all of me like a good girl." Between Jeno's fingers lightly squeezing the sides of your neck and his words, your head was spinning.

The intense pleasure came over you, you couldn't piece together words anymore. Jeno smiled, hearing your incoherent babbling.

"J-Jeno..oh my god, ple-ease!" you cried.

You blinked your glossy eyes up at Jeno as he slowed down but deepened his strokes. You smiled, feeling how deep he was inside you, and you could feel your body teetering the edges of your third orgasm of the night.

"Dumb little princess," he crooned, "Have I already fucked you stupid, baby?"

Flustered by his words, you laugh, "Yes, yes, yes, Jen! please don't stop," you arch your back.

"That's my pretty girl," Jeno deeply rolled his hips into yours. "Let me know how good I'm making you feel."

"It's so good, it's so go-ood, Jeno, m'gonna cum," you whine.

"Go ahead and soak my cock, angel," he grunted.

Red streaks decorate Jeno's arm as your nails dig into his skin, another earth-shattering orgasm slamming into you.

"Th-thank you—fuck—thank you," you cried, tears of pleasure pricking at your eyes. You could hear how heavy Jeno's breathing has become and know he's not too far behind you.

"Mhm, such a good girl," Jeno's voice drops a few octaves as his hips stutter, filling the latex with his cum.

Your legs were trembling as they fell against Jeno's. He gently caressed your face, waiting for you to come back down to him.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Much more than," you smile.

"Happy to hear. Just give me a minute." Jeno says, softly kissing your lips before slipping out of your pussy, disposing of the condom, and pulling his sweatpants back on as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Jeno quickly returned with a wet cloth to wipe away the stickiness clinging to your skin.

Once he was done, you sat up and let Jeno pull you into his arms. The usual annoyance of your clammy skin sticking to his hadn't bothered you much as you just wanted to be in his arms.

"What're you thinking about?" Jeno's voice breaks the silence.

"Hm?" you snap out of your thoughts.

"You're quiet. I can tell there's a lot going through your mind right now."

"A lot of things pertaining you, yes."

"I meant what I said earlier. I really do like you."

"I know…I kinda really like you too."

You swear his eyes sparkled as a smile broke out on his face, "You have no idea how much it means to hear that. I was too afraid I would've messed something up between us."

"And I thought I was the only one here who faces their fears tonight," you say before planting a kiss on his lips.

"Are you sure there isn't anything you need I can get for you?" he asks.

"I'm all good right here." You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his, "This is all I need."

a/n: this was especially for the five of you that had already seen this last week when I accidentally posted 😭😭 thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33

edit: i can’t believe i let all of y’all read this with this many typos and shit 😭 i swear i wasn’t done editing but this was the second time it accidentally posted from my drafts and i just said fuck it 🚶🏽‍♀️

[goldfades]

𝟎𝟎𝟏 SLIPPING INTO YOU ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ MATT REMPE

12 days of christmas celebration!!

as holidays approach, it’s important to remember those who are facing hardships, such as the people of palestine. in times of crisis, solidarity matters more than ever. you can support palestinian communities by donating to reputable organizations providing aid, such as food, medical supplies, and shelter. help palestine with a click | heal palestine | unrwa | resources for palestine

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Matt drags you to the local ice rink. Matt is a natural skater, while you can barely stand without falling. Cue laughter, clumsy hand-holding, and lingering touches as they help each other stay upright (though, that doesn't do much).

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluffy! matt being the boyfriendest bf ever, descriptions of being scared, hot cocoa!!!!!!!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓. Twinkling lights wrap around every lamppost, casting a warm glow that dances across the freshly fallen snow. The cold bites at your cheeks, but it's the kind of chill that feels festive, softened by the sweet scent of roasting chestnuts and cinnamon wafting from a nearby vendor. You pull your red scarf tighter around your neck, the fabric brushing against your chin as you match Matt's long strides through the crowded streets of New York.

He's practically humming with excitement. There's a childlike energy about him, and his eyes are bright with that unmistakable holiday sparkle. You don’t get to see this side of him often—outside the rink, he's usually all cool confidence and easy smiles. But here, in the city at Christmastime, he’s almost giddy, a broad grin plastered on his face.

You’re in the middle of pointing out the Rockefeller tree, its massive branches glittering in the distance, when Matt’s gaze catches on something else. His hand, warm and firm, slides into yours without warning, and suddenly you’re being tugged sideways, stumbling a bit over the slick pavement.

“Come on,” he urges, and you can already hear the teasing lilt in his voice, “I have an idea.”

You don’t have time to protest. He’s already pulling you through the flow of people, past couples holding hands and bundled-up families, the city’s hustle and bustle a blur around you. And then you see it—the ice rink, its surface shining under a canopy of lights, the sound of skates slicing the ice filling the air.

Your stomach drops.

“Oh, no,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You dig your heels into the sidewalk, but it does little to stop him. “Matt, I can’t—I’ll fall on my face.”

He laughs, the sound deep and warm, the kind that makes your heart do a funny little flip. “You won’t,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I promise, I won’t let you fall.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but then he turns to look at you, his face softening in that way that’s almost impossible to resist. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes—one that you know all too well.

“Pleaseee?” he says, drawing the word out, his voice low and coaxing. He’s still holding your hand, and you can feel the reassuring pressure of his fingers intertwined with yours. You hesitate, nerves twisting in your stomach, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no.

Before you can think it through, you nod, just once, and Matt’s grin grows impossibly wide. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, and suddenly you’re both moving toward the rink, his excitement pulling you along despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

You find yourself walking toward the ice rink as if in a daze, half-stumbling over the uneven patches of snow still clinging to the sidewalk. There’s a faint sense of inevitability, like this was always going to happen the moment Matt caught sight of the ice. He practically vibrates with enthusiasm, and his energy is contagious even as you fight back the urge to run in the other direction.

“Matt, I really can’t skate,” you say, the words tumbling out as he pulls you closer to the entrance. There’s a line forming, people exchanging laughter as they lace up their skates. Your heart is hammering against your ribs. “I’m serious. I’ll fall, and you’ll end up dragging me around the ice like a sled.”

He stops then, turning to face you, his expression softening as if he can sense the genuine anxiety brewing behind your teasing tone. The noisy swirl of the crowd fades a little as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his gloved fingers brushing your skin. He’s so much taller that you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and there’s a gentleness there that you weren’t expecting—a promise, unspoken, that he’s got you.

“Okay, listen,” he says, leaning in close enough that you can catch the crisp, wintry scent of his jacket, mixed with a hint of his cologne. “If you do this with me, I swear I’ll buy you the biggest, fanciest cup of hot cocoa New York has to offer. Whipped cream, marshmallows, caramel drizzle—the works.”

Your lips twitch, despite the nerves still coiling in your stomach. “You’re trying to bribe me with hot cocoa?”

“Is it working?” His grin is lopsided, charmingly hopeful, and he’s already dragging you forward again before you can decide if it’s working or not. “Besides, you know you’ll look cute out there. I mean, if anyone can make flailing around on ice adorable, it’s you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. He’s relentless in that way of his, a confidence that makes you believe, just a little, that maybe you won’t fall flat on your face the second your skates hit the ice. With a sigh that you hope hides how hard your heart is pounding, you let him lead you to the rental booth.

The process is quick—Matt knows exactly what size to ask for, and before you can even finish contemplating an escape route, he’s kneeling in front of you, already tying the laces of your skates with deft, practiced fingers.

It’s almost absurd, seeing him like this, the picture of a hockey player lost in this unexpectedly tender moment. His hands move with such ease, and you wonder how many times he’s done this—how many rinks he’s laced up at, how many times he’s made skating look as natural as breathing.

“Comfy?” he asks, giving the laces one final tug before standing up, towering over you again. There’s a spark in his eyes, that same infectious excitement that hasn’t dimmed, and you find yourself nodding, even though your legs already feel shaky and you’re not even on the ice yet.

He steps into his own skates like he’s been doing it his whole life—which, of course, he has—and then he’s holding out his hand, palm up, waiting. “You ready?”

“Not even a little,” you admit, but you slip your hand into his anyway, feeling the solid, reassuring weight of his fingers curling around yours.

Your grip tightens instinctively as he leads you toward the edge of the rink, where a couple of kids are racing each other, their laughter ringing through the chilly air.

There’s a moment of panic when your first skate touches the ice, and you automatically cling to the side railing like it’s a life preserver. The cold, slick surface feels unsteady beneath your feet, a thousand miles away from the solid ground you were just walking on. Matt steps on effortlessly, gliding in front of you with the kind of grace that makes it clear why he’s a pro. His skates move smoothly over the ice, barely making a sound.

“See?” he says, his tone light and teasing. “It’s easy. Just take my hand.”

Your heart is in your throat, and you feel the cold seep into your fingers where they grip the metal railing, but you let go with one hand—then the other—trusting that he’ll catch you. And he does. His hand slides back into yours, strong and steady, and he pulls you closer, guiding your feet inch by inch onto the ice. The world narrows down to the sound of his voice, the glide of his skates, and the icy chill prickling your cheeks.

“Keep your knees bent a little,” he advises, skating backward so he can face you, his hands wrapped around yours. “Just relax. You’ve got this.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, wobbling as you take your first hesitant step. Your legs feel like jelly, every muscle tensed and ready to crumple at the slightest provocation. But Matt just laughs, the sound low and warm, and he stays close, holding your hands as you inch forward.

Little by little, you start to move with him, and he keeps talking, coaxing you into motion with a steady stream of encouragement. Every time you stumble, his hands tighten around yours, and every time you catch your balance, he flashes you that brilliant, proud grin that makes your cheeks burn—not from the cold, but from something else entirely.

Somehow, minutes turn into a quarter of an hour, then half an hour, and the fear starts to melt away, replaced by something warm and fluttery that has nothing to do with the cocoa waiting for you when you’re done. Your movements are still clumsy, but you’re not gripping his hands like a lifeline anymore. There’s more laughter than fear now, and you’re both skating together, your breaths mingling in the frosty air.

“Alright,” Matt says, his voice dropping lower, the tone shifting to something more encouraging, almost coaxing. “I think you’re ready for the next step.” Before you can argue, he’s moving behind you, his hands settling at your waist. The heat of his palms is a reassuring weight through your coat, and you instinctively straighten, feeling the solid press of his chest at your back.

You can feel his breath on the side of your face, warm and steady, and your heart is hammering so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. He’s practically wrapped around you now, one of his arms looping around your middle while his other hand rests lightly on your hip. For a moment, you forget you’re on the ice at all—his presence is steady, a warm cocoon that chases away the chill seeping through the air.

“Okay,” he murmurs right beside your ear, and you shiver, but not from the cold. “I’m gonna let go for just a second, alright? You’re doing great.”

“Wait—” you start, panic rising in your chest, but before you can finish, he’s already loosening his grip, fingers sliding away from your waist.

For a split second, you’re skating on your own—your feet moving awkwardly but somehow in rhythm, the ice feeling almost manageable beneath you. A surge of exhilaration flares up, and you can’t help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of you.

“I’m doing it!” you say, a thrill of pride swelling in your chest. You’re skating—actually skating—and for that split second, you believe you’ve got it, that you’ve finally found your balance. But just as quickly as the thought forms, it all goes wrong.

Your skate catches on a rough patch, and suddenly you’re tilting forward, arms flailing for something—anything—to hold onto. The ground is coming up fast, but before you can hit the ice, your fingers find purchase, clutching onto Matt’s arm just as you feel yourself going down. You yank him off balance, and there’s a startled shout from behind you as he tries to catch himself, but it’s too late.

The world tilts and blurs as you both crash to the ice in a tangled heap. It all happens in a heartbeat—the cold, hard surface jolting against your back, Matt’s weight pressing against you as he lands almost on top of you, his arms braced around your shoulders to keep from crushing you completely. The impact is over before you’ve even had time to realize what happened, leaving you both sprawled out in a mess of limbs and laughter, your breath misting in the air between you.

For a second, you’re both too stunned to move. You blink up at the Christmas lights strung above the rink, the colorful bulbs shimmering in the darkness, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the ice. Then Matt shifts, his eyes wide with surprise, his face so close that you can see the faintest dusting of snowflakes caught in his dark hair.

And then you both burst out laughing—helpless, giddy laughter that bubbles up and spills over, filling the crisp night air. It’s the kind of laughter that’s impossible to stop, the kind that leaves your cheeks aching and your stomach sore, and you can’t help but lose yourself in it.

Matt’s forehead drops against your shoulder, his whole body shaking with laughter, and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t catch your breath, your gloved hands still clinging to his arm as if you’re both afraid to let go. He shifts slightly, still laughing, and his weight presses you deeper into the ice, but it doesn’t feel cold anymore—it feels warm, safe, like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you in this ridiculous, wonderful, chaotic moment.

When he finally lifts his head, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, there’s a grin on his face that’s so infectious you can’t help but smile back. “I thought you had it,” he teases, still breathless with laughter, his face inches from yours.

“I thought I did too,” you gasp, shaking your head. “But then you let go! Why did you let go?!”

“Hey, you grabbed me!” he says, mock-indignant, still grinning.

He shifts, rolling off you but keeping close enough that your shoulders are still touching, both of you lying flat on the ice, staring up at the glittering lights above. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall alone.”

You laugh again, your breath hitching, and you push at his shoulder playfully. “Yeah, well, now we’re both down here, genius.”

“Worth it,” he says easily, a soft warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch for an entirely different reason. His smile fades into something softer, something more real, and he reaches up to brush a stray snowflake from your cheek, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re okay, right?”

You nod, feeling a little breathless, a little dazed, but completely, wonderfully okay. More than okay. You’re lying on the ice in the middle of New York City, tangled up with Matt in a pile of limbs and laughter, and it’s perfect in a way you never would’ve expected.

“Alright,” he says, still smiling as he pushes himself up, extending a hand to help you to your feet. “Come on, let’s try that again. And if you fall this time, I’m definitely buying you that hot cocoa.”

“Deal,” you say, letting him pull you up, his hand warm and sure in yours. And for a second, standing there with him, your feet wobbling and your cheeks burning, you think maybe falling isn’t so bad after all.

When you finally make it off the ice—after several more tumbles, a lot of laughter, and one triumphant lap around the rink where you manage to stay upright the whole time—Matt keeps his promise. His arm is slung casually over your shoulders, the two of you leaning against each other for warmth as you leave the rink behind, the lights fading into the distance as you make your way back into the heart of the city.

“There’s a place right around the corner,” Matt says, his breath clouding the air as he gestures toward a cozy little cafe tucked between two shops. It’s the kind of place you’d never notice unless you were looking for it, and you can’t help but smile as he pushes open the door, the warm air inside washing over you like a wave.

The cafe is small and inviting, the air thick with the rich scent of chocolate and fresh pastries. A garland of evergreen is wrapped around the windows, and twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow over the tables. There’s a slight hum of conversation—other couples and groups of friends escaping the chill of the winter night—and it feels like you’ve stepped into a Christmas postcard.

“Go find us a seat,” Matt says, flashing you a grin as he makes his way to the counter. You peel off your gloves, rubbing your hands together to chase away the lingering cold, and find a little table by the window. The fogged glass gives a perfect view of the Rockefeller tree outside, its branches heavy with ornaments, the lights glittering like a million tiny stars against the night sky.

A few minutes later, Matt returns with two steaming mugs, their surfaces piled high with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a handful of tiny marshmallows. He sets one in front of you with a flourish, like he’s presenting you with the most important drink in the world, and you can’t help but laugh as you wrap your fingers around the warm ceramic, feeling the cold melt away.

“Fancy enough for you?” he asks, his tone light, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he watches you take that first, hesitant sip. The rich chocolatey warmth floods your senses, and you let out a happy sigh, feeling the warmth spread all the way to your toes.

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it.

It’s not just the cocoa, though that’s pretty close to the best you’ve ever had. It’s the way Matt is looking at you, his smile lazy and content, the faintest hint of color still lingering in his cheeks from the cold. It’s the feeling of being here, together, with the sounds of the city muted outside and the tree lighting up the darkness like something out of a dream.

He sits across from you, long legs stretched out under the table, and for a while, you don’t say anything at all. You just sip your cocoa, watching the lights of the tree reflected in the window, the glass blurring the world outside until it feels like the two of you are the only ones in it.

“This is nice,” you finally say, your voice soft, almost hesitant, like you’re afraid of breaking whatever spell has settled over you both.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your chest feel tight, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It really is.”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours where they rest around your mug, and you let him. It’s a small gesture, almost nothing, but it sends a thrill through you that you can’t quite ignore. His thumb traces a lazy pattern over your knuckles, and you find yourself smiling back at him, feeling more connected than you ever thought possible in such a crowded city.

Outside, the Rockefeller tree shines brighter than ever, each light reflecting in Matt’s eyes as he watches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. There’s something about the moment—the warmth of the cocoa, the glow of the lights, the way the rest of the world seems to fade away—that feels special, almost magical.

Like maybe this is exactly where you’re supposed to be, with the right person, at the right time.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but there’s no need. The silence between you is comfortable, easy, and as you sit there, sipping cocoa and stealing glances at each other over the rim of your mugs, you think you could stay here forever—right in this perfect little moment with him, the city sparkling around you like something out of a dream.

Eventually, Matt leans back in his chair, stretching a bit, and he gives you a lazy grin that’s all mischief and warmth. “Alright,” he says, eyes twinkling, “if I knew hot cocoa would make you this happy, I would’ve dragged you out on the ice ages ago.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes. “It wasn’t just the cocoa, you know,” you say, a little shy, and Matt’s grin softens.

“I know,” he replies, his voice gentle, and he holds your gaze a little longer than necessary before his attention shifts back to the glowing tree outside. For a while, the two of you just watch the lights twinkle, your mugs growing lighter with each sip until all that’s left is the memory of warmth and sweetness lingering on your tongues.

“Next year,” he says suddenly, his tone thoughtful, “we’re doing this again. Same rink, same cocoa, same everything.”

“Next year?” you ask, pretending to be skeptical, but the way your heart skips tells you exactly how much you want that—how much you want to be here, with him, over and over again.

“Next year,” he repeats, his voice firm and certain. He gives your hand one last squeeze before he lets go, reaching for his empty mug with a casual ease that makes your heart do another of those funny little flips. “It’s a tradition now.”

“A tradition,” you echo softly, the word tasting sweet on your tongue, and you find yourself smiling again, feeling something warm and hopeful bloom in your chest. It’s a promise, unspoken but solid, and as you glance back at the tree, its lights reflecting off the glass like a thousand little stars, you know it’s a promise you want to keep.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Pressure reader finding a gun and now can and will defend themself from monster or execute other people for doing something dumb

I'm sorry but I saw this and decided to run with how finding a gun might actually go for a Prisoner!Reader /lh

..................

"Wow...guess somebody forgot to pick this up. Or maybe Sebastian got tired of me dying to those monsters all the time.."

Staring down at the weapon that was just laying on the floor, you looked around to see if any cameras were currently watching you. Of course, there was a singular one with a red light in the corner above the next door, aimed directly at your position.

They were always watching.

From the comfort and safety of their headquarters, they watched you get maimed by the creatures here over and over again. Whether it's a Wall Dweller sneaking up on you or Pandemonium ramming into the locker you're hiding in nonstop....they've seen it all.

So at this point, you didn't care that they could see your clear interest in the object on the ground.

One you were forbidden to take.

But to hell with them and their rules.

After all you've suffered through down here, you deserved to have some kind of self-defense tool that wasn't just a light source you had to conserve.

Why shouldn't you be allowed to protect yourself? They were going to kill all the creatures who escaped containment, anyways, so if you could kill them now, why not?

Unfortunately, HQ begged to differ, as the moment you crouched down to pick up the pistol, a familiar voice came onto the intercom:

"Do not touch the weapon. Leave it alone and it will be collected by authorized personnel later."

"...figures." You glared at the camera, standing up. "Why don't you tell your "authorized personnel" to put down those sea monsters instead?! I think I'm allowed to defend myself if-"

*pop*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Back here again, are we?"

"Yeah..I guess.." Grumbling, you rubbed your neck as you looked up at the familiar trio of glowing blue eyes and angler lure. Even now, you still had a killer headache from the PDG detonation.

Then again, that was your own fault.

You didn't need to read the same document twice.

"I don't recommend defying them again. At least..not until you find a way to scramble their connection." Sebastian advised, sighing as he shook his head. "You gotta remember you have no rights down here. Neither of us do. It sucks but, we gotta deal with it."

"The IDS has gone haywire..but they're worried about me shooting through a glass window.." You huffed. "What if it wasn't even loaded?"

"Well I'm not sure if you know this, but prisoners and guns don't exactly go together. Just use what you've learned in the past to avoid the threats. It doesn't matter to them how "badly" you think you needed a firearm. You'll never get your hands on one, and I'm certainly not gonna sell any to you. Period."

"....I guess that pistol would've been useless if it didn't any rounds..."

"Anyway, here's what your overseer had to say on the matter. It's..kinda funny." Sebastian showed you another file, documenting your time and cause of death, along with a comment.

"The EXR-P stumbled across a small firearm that was left behind during the lockdown and defied direct orders to drop it, thinking they were an exception to the rule. This cannot happen again."

"Okay, that's bullshit. They're making it sound like I was an entitled asshole." You pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I can see why. Backtalking them is funny and all until your head pops. If you want them to take you seriously, you'll have to reach that crystal."

"Fine. I'll be a good little expendable and just focus on that." Putting a ferryman token on the table, you looked up at Sebastian. "Tell the guy downstairs I wanna continue where I was."

"Alright. Better not waste it." He swiped the coin, fading back into the darkness.

In the blink of an eye, you returned to the Blacksite, in the same room that you died in. It was clear of any blood that was left behind after your PDG went off, and of course..the pistol wasn't anywhere to be found.

It would have been useless anyways.

On the bright side, you did find a blacklight and some batteries in the drawers that you didn't check before, and you realized it's wiser to just use them to protect yourself.

'Okay. Let's just play it safe and keep going.'

[scarlethexelove]

To Hell And Back

Pairing: Angel!Wanda x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 1485

Warnings: Kidnapping (Wanda), Demon!Ex, Stabbing (Non descriptive), Torture (Non descriptive), Reader beating the shit out of Demon!Ex, Angst, Comfort, Uhhh idk

Pt 1, Prequal

A/n: More Angel!Wanda and Demon!Reader say what. This is what would happen if Wanda is kidnapped and taken to Hell. Reader goes a bit crazy. Thank you again to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl indulging in my love for these 2. Honestly I got a little lazy and used a gif.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You knew something was wrong when you hadn't heard from Wanda all day. Then, it came through an unknown number. A picture of Wanda, tied up, beaten, and in hell. All of the air in your lungs escapes when you see her. What was once beautifully white and soft, her wings dirtied with blood and dirt. You can feel the rage building within you. You had to go find her. Your tail and horns coming out. Your tail flicks back and forth as your eyes shift to a cold blue. You don't think as you march out of your home. 

You know a hidden portal is situated just a few miles from your home. You take off running as fast as you can in the direction of the portal. Leafs crunch under your feet as you make your way through the woods until you reach a cave. The cave is damp and musty and mostly dark until you see the flickering light of the portal. You take no time jumping through.

As you come out the other side, you look around, getting your bearings. You know this place. It may have been hundreds of years since you've seen it, but it's familiar. You pull your phone out and examine the photo again. Hoping a second look gives you a clue on where in hell Wanda could be. You look but it looks the same as any other part of hell, bleak and dreary. You give up on looking at the photo and instead start searching. You felt your blood boiling over and it wasn't from the heat.

Anger that you suppressed for hundreds of years hidden underneath the surface. You stalk through the area looking for any sign of Wanda. The underworld is vast with many twists and turns. It soon feels like you have been searching for hours. Hope is dwindling. What if you never find Wanda? What if you're too late? 

You feel like you'll never find her when you feel it, feel her. You spin in the direction you're being pulled and run, faster than you thought possible. The feeling gets stronger the closer you get. The anger that had been growing slowly morphs into relief. You can feel her. You can still feel her. Your body collides with the door where the pull is the strongest. The door shatters as you stumble through.

When you see her, you can feel the rage bubbling over. You shift your focus to the demon in the room. Eyes narrowing and head tilting to the side. Of course it was your ex. She always hated you for leaving all this behind, and getting together with Wanda must have been her final straw. Without so much as a thought, you lunge at her. She's able to dodge you. You turn on your heels. Your eyes flash that cold blue. “Delphine.” You growl. This time, you're quicker as you're able to tap into all the rage you've consumed. Your body collides with hers, sending her flying into the far wall. 

Delphine seems to be knocked out, giving you the chance to run to Wanda. “Wands.” Your voice cracks. Her eyes shift to yours. She looks up at you, battered and bruised. “You must have put up one hell of a fight, angel.” You gently stroke your thumb of a bruise on her cheek. 

“Wasn't gonna let some shitty demon just take me.” Wanda smirks at you, another wince coming out.

“Let's get you down, baby.” You can still feel the rage just below the surface, but your Wanda is more important. You're able to release Wanda, catching her in your arms before she collapses. 

“Y/n watch out!” Wanda yells. You catch a glimpse of Delphine out of the corner of your eye. You're able to push Wanda out of the way before feeling a sharp pain in your back. 

You cough up blood. The rage fueling you once again, your voice deepening. “You never did know when to quit.” You turn quickly, getting into it with Delphine. Blows exchanged as you manage to get on top. Keeping her down. Your hand wraps around her throat as you start to use your grip on her throat to slam her head into the ground. But her hand is able to snake around, digging her finger into the wound. You cry out in pain, giving her a chance to gain control again. 

“You're mine.” Delphine seethes.

“You're fucking insane if you think I'm yours. I wasn't even yours when we were together!” You spit back at her. The white hot pain from your wound screaming at you. Your fist connects with her face. A bloody sinister grin spreads across her face. Which sends you into a rage. You continue to land blow after blow. She isn't able to stop you. Your eyes flicker from blue to red. Wanda watches as the tips of your horns and tails start to stain black. 

Wanda doesn't think about it as she runs forward. “Y/n!” She practically crashes into you. “Stop, please...this isn't you...you aren't like these demons. Don't let them take that from you.” You looked back at her over your shoulder. You see the tears run down her face, voice cracking. “Please Y/n…”

The sight of your tail passes in your vision. The blackened tip paired with Delphine coughing up blood terrifies you.  You crawl back getting as far away from Wanda and Delphine. Tears spring to your eyes as you look down. Your hands stained red start to shake. “No! No! No! No!” Panic fills your voice, the tears that threatened to fall now cascading down your cheeks. This isn't you. This is everything you didn't want to be. You worked so hard to not be This. To be like them. You wanted to help people not hurt...you certainly didn't want to kill anyone.

“Detka?” Wanda moves closer to you, you shake your head. 

“N-No, get away from me. I-I don't want to hurt you.” Your voice breaks as you pull your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you continuously mutter, I'm sorry. Wanda's heart absolutely breaks seeing you like this. Even though you've told her to get away, that's the last thing she's about to do. Instead she pulls you into a hug, her wings coming out to wrap around you just like your first date. 

You sob into Wanda's chest as she holds you. You should be the one comforting her, but here you are. She shushes you as she holds you tight. She watches as the black slowly fades back to white. “I'm sorry Wands.” You choked out, and she shushes you. 

“No detka it's okay. What just happened is different. You were protecting me. If it meant protecting you I'd do the same thing.” Wanda tells you. You sniffle as you look up at her. Though beaten and bruised, she is still the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She sees how your eyes shift back to blue before they go back to your normal color. 

Before the words come out of your mouth, Wanda blasts Delphine back in a white light. She hits the wall hard, knocking her unconscious or at least that is what you think. Wanda lifts you in her arms, letting her wings spread out. “Let's go home detka.”

“I'm the one who should be carrying you.” You whine a little. 

Wanda chuckles and then winces slightly. “Sweetheart, you've been stabbed. Also, I don't see you with any wings.” You pout, thinking about it, and grumble a bit. “That's what I thought.” Wanda flapped her wings. “You're gonna have to guide me back, though.” Wanda says with a smirk. You giggle a bit before getting both of you out of hell. 

By the time you're home both of you are exhausted. Wanda obviously fusses over getting you patched up first, having seen the blood stain on her wings. When she is done she finally lets you help her before you both get cleaned up. Crawling into bed and curling up together. 

You end up falling asleep first. Wanda lets her wing stay around you, propped up on her side. She gently strokes your face, moving some hair out of the way. She kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there. “I love you so much, my little devil.” She pulls back to look at the peaceful look on your face. "I'd kill anyone who dared stand between us. God or Satan couldn't stop me. If it meant keeping you with me, I'd do it without a second thought.” She strokes your cheek. 

Wanda uses her wings to pull you closer, wrapping her arms around you tightly. Her wings provide a safe cocoon as she settles in. Soon she follows you into the land of dreams. Peacefully drifting off holding you tight.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 47

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,370ish

Summary: Logan gives his all in one final fight.

Warning(s):  canon violence, injuries, character death(s)

Notes: I'm actually so scared that this chapter will flop because I'm an over thinker... Also, I posted a new Everyday Moments one shot! Check it out here!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Dr. Rice ran other drone over what he believed was the abandoned base. Just to make sure that no one was left behind as he continued up the mountain, chasing after the kids. His screen beeped as the drone found a sign of life. Dr. Rice smirked as he picked up his radio.

“I need the last car to turn around,” he ordered. “Make sure you have a glass case. The X-Men, Ember, is back at their little hide out. Grab her and bring her to me.”

~~~

You woke up when one of the stairs creaked. Your senses were immediately on edge. Logan wasn’t lying with you and there were more slow and heavy footsteps than his. You peeked eye open to see black boots coming to surround you. Your heart began hammering in your chest. Where was Logan? Did they do something to him?

You heard the guns cock and you knew that they were going to try to take you. You weren’t about to let that happen. Before anyone could shoot, you formed a circle of fire around yourself, making sure the flames were taller than the men. They exclaimed as they stumbled back.

Your flames quickly ate the old wood floor, causing you and the men to go falling to the desert ground. You picked yourself up and blasted the men with more flames before running off. You noticed the military truck and ran over to it. It didn’t pass you that your body was already more tired than usual after using your mutation. But that wasn’t something you had time to deal with right now.

The radio was going off about the kids that were trying to get to the border and to stop them before they did. That’s when you knew where Logan had ran off to. He left you to go help the kids—to go help Laura. Though you were furious at him for leaving you, you were proud of him for rushing to save his daughter.

Before you could drive off to help the others, two darts hit your arm. You gasped as your eyes fluttered close and you collapsed against the seats. The remaining soldier limped over and grabbed the radio.

“Dr. Rice,” he called, “I’ve got Ember and I’m bringing her up.”

~~~

Laura didn’t know how to deal with saying goodbye to you and Logan. So she didn’t. Though, as her and the other children were running away from the soldiers through the woods, she wished she had. The soldiers attacked as they chased the children and the children used their mutations to retaliate. Rictor, the oldest and the leader, urged the children to keep running to the border. It was the only way to freedom.

As Laura ran, she noticed one of her friends being tackled by a soldier. She released her claws and screamed, jumping onto the soldier. The soldier rolled off the other child as Laura plunged her claws into him. The familiar sound of Logan yelling at her turning her head back in the direction they came. Up the hill came Logan, moving faster than he had in years. He roared as he unsheathed his claws and began taking out soldiers. The Wolverine spun and leaped like he did in battles years ago.

Logan continued to fight his way through the soldiers, eventually reaching a circle of them that had surrounded Laura. He yelled as he raced for the nearest soldier and began taking them out. Laura leapt into action, using her claws just as her father did. More soldiers came towards them, shooting. 

“Get behind me!” Logan ordered. Laura moved behind him without question.

Bullets hit Logan as he charged forward, Laura only steps behind. He plunged his claws into the soldiers, quickly ending their lives. Laura ran up Logan’s back and jumped onto a soldier, willingly fighting alongside her father. After the group of soldiers were finished, Logan looked down at his bleeding woods with heaving breaths.

“You took all the medicine,” Laura stated upon realization. Logan was killing himself quicker to ensure her safety. Logan leaned forward as he gasped for more air, the pain coming back. “It’s wearing off.”

Logan ignored Laura as he took one of the guns and stumbled up the mountain to a clearing where the trucks had gathered and the captured children were circled up. Laura and him watched as another truck joined them. Logan’s heart stopped as the bed of the truck was opened and he caught sight of you.

“No,” he breathed out. 

He had left you for your safety and so that you didn’t have to see him like this. But he had only failed you yet again. He clenched his jaw as he eyes searched the area, coming up with a plan.

“Go to your friends,” he told Laura. She made no immediate move to go, simply staring at him. “Go.” Laura began walking away. “Laura?” She paused, glancing back at Logan. “You’ll know when.”

Laura rushed off, heading around the trucks towards her friends. Logan coughed as he gathered his remaining strength and limped into the clearing.

“Nine o’clock!” A soldier announced. The soldiers aimed their weapons at Logan.

Donald Pierce, Dr. Rice’s right hand, laughed. “That green juice is wearing’ off, huh?” He taunted. “You know, for an old mute, it’s kind of a short high. Be hard to keep them claws out, soon.”

“Please stop, Mr. Howlett,” Dr. Rice requested as he came walking over. “I’m gonna have to tell these men to fire on these children. You don’t want that… Or on your wife.”

You gasped as you were harshly grabbed and dragged over to Dr. Rice’s side. Logan growled, fists clenched harder as he watched them move you around like a rag doll.

“She’s a special one… Rare,” Dr. Rice continued. “But I think you know that. Her regenerative phoenix mutation could be the next step in my research.” Logan coughed, growing weaker by the second. “You can see the effects of the serum are wearing off. You will not survive further wounds.” Dr. Rice stepped closer. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Zander Rice. I believe you knew my father on the Weapon X Program.”

“Yeah,” Logan coughed. “He’s one of the assholes who put this poison in me…” He lifted his claws up. “I think I might have killed him.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Why don’t you show some respect, mutie?” Donald teased. “You’re lookin’ at the man who wiped out your kind.”

“My friend Donald overstates. He makes it sound more brutal than intended. The goal was not to end mutant kind, but to control it. I realized we needn’t stop perfecting what we eat and drink. That we could use those products to perfect ourselves. To distribute gene therapy discreetly through everything from sweet drinks to breakfast cereals. And it worked. Random mutancy went the way of polio. We embarked on our next endeavor.”

“Growing mutants of your own,” Logan wheezed.

“Precisely.”

“Dangerous times, James,” Donald commented.

“You don’t get to call him that!” You shouted, earning you a hit to the face.

Logan lifted the hidden gun and shot Dr. Rice through the neck. He shot again, hitting Donald’s hand. You screamed out as you let your hands be covered in balls of flames. You began attacking with your flames as Laura jumped in and Logan chased after Donald. Donald ran over to one of the trucks and opened up the back of it.

“It’s show time, boy!” He exclaimed.

Logan’s duplicate leapt out and tackled Logan to the ground. The two began fighting as you continued to take care of the soldiers. Laura snuck around and got the soldiers on the edge while you took care of the ones in the middle. You stood there catching your breath when Logan’s duplicate plunged its claws into Logan and threw him against one of the trucks.

“Logan!” You screamed.

The copy rushed over to Logan, with Logan barely having enough time to use one of the broken truck doors as a shield. He stood up, using the door as a weapon, as you got back to taking out the soldiers. The duplicate roared as it gained more strength to fight. It kicked the door, sending Logan flying back. You ran up to the duplicate and began throwing fire at it. The copy moved through your flames like it wasn’t a problem. It went to strike you with its claws when Laura screamed and jumped onto it.

“Laura!” You shouted. “No!”

Donald grabbed a spear gun and shot it in your direction. It went through your leg, causing you to collapse with a scream.

“Y/N!” Logan groaned crawling your way.

Laura yelled as she landed on top of the duplicate and hit him with her claws over and over again. Logan made it over to you and cut the wire connecting you and the spear to the gun. He pulled you into him and grasped onto the spear.

“I got you, baby,” he wheezed. “It’s gonna hurt.” He yanked out the spear, causing you to cry out. He pressed a kiss to your head as you leaned further back into him.

Laura continued to fight off Logan’s duplicate as the children freed themselves and dealt with Donald and the remaining soldiers. The copy tossed Laura into a tree before Rictor used his powers to land one of the trucks on top of it. 

“Go,” Logan coughed, pulling you up to stand. “Go, go, go!” 

He pushed you and Laura towards the others near the tree line. You and Logan turned around as you heard creaking from the truck.

“Go!” Logan yelled, pushing you away.

The copy leapt over the truck and buried its claws into Logan. The children began rushing towards the woods again, with you and Laura staying put.

“No!” You screamed.

“Go!” Logan shouted, blood coating his mouth. “Run!”

Keeping its claws inside of Logan, the duplicate dragged Logan away. You rushed forward to do something, but the duplicate easily hit you away, causing you to fall back to the ground. 

“Run!” Logan repeated, his voice pleading with you to go as he was dragged away. “Go, sweetheart!”

The duplicate threw Logan onto a tree, causing him to be impaled by one of the branches.

“JAMES!” You screamed. 

Your emotions took control of your powers and a large flames sparked from you and rushed over to Logan and his duplicate. The copy was engulfed by the flames, causing him to stumble back. The flames grew hotter as you stood up, your finger-tips flaming. With a subtle move of your fingers, the duplicate was turned to ash and the fire disappeared. You fell to your knees, gasping as that had quickly drained your energy. Laura raced over to your side, helping you up and over to Logan.

“No, no, no,” you cried as you collapsed next to him. Tears fell freely down your cheeks as your hands hovered over his body. 

Laura went on Logan’s other side and used her claws to cut the branch that was impaling Logan, allowing him to slide to the ground. Your hands trembled as you reached out and steadied him while Laura knelt down and began crying too. 

“Take Laura,” he gasped. “Take Laura… and her friends… and hide.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I—I can’t. Not without you.”

“They’ll keep coming, sweetheart. You have to.”

“No… James…”

His hand weakly moved and you quickly grabbed onto it. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I wish I could have done better… for you…”

“Stop that. You were perfectly enough… everything I needed and more… I love you, James, so much.”

“I… I love you forever, sweetheart… Forever… Listen,” Laura grabbed Logan’s other hand as he tried to hold hers, “take care of each other… you… you don’t have to fight anymore… Either of you… Go… Don’t be what they made you… Y/N… Laura…”

“Daddy,” Laura cried.

“Ah,” Logan smiled, bloody and broken, “so… this is what it feels… like….” 

A sob tore through you as Logan took his final breath.

“No! No!” Laura cried. “Daddy! Daddy!”

You fell forward, not caring about his blood as you clung to him as if it would fix everything. The children came back into as you sobbed into your husband’s dead body. Laura reached over Logan to grab onto you as she mirrored your actions.

~~~

In all your long life, you had never fell a heartbreak like this. It was raw and desperate, clawing at you as it threatened to drag you down into the pit of darkness. Laura was clutching your hand as you stared at the spot where Logan’s body now lay. It was killing you inside. 

The Wolverine was dead and buried in a soon to be forgotten spot in the woods. He deserved better. Especially as he was your husband, you believed he deserved the world, even in death. The pile of rocks and the stick cross did not do enough to honor the man you loved. Your everything. Your hero.

Laura’s hand gripped yours tighter as tears slipped down her cheeks and you held back another sob. You knew you needed to continue on with Laura, it’s what Logan wanted. But you didn’t know if you could do that. You didn’t know if you could leave his body here alone while you went on to live the rest of your life. You didn’t even know if you could live the rest of your life without him. This would be different than any other time before. This was permanent.

“Let’s go,” Rictor said. “We gotta move.”

The children turned away and began to walk off. Laura moved forward slowly, leading for you to follow. She let your hand go and grabbed the stick cross. She knelt down and turned in over to be an ‘x’. You inhaled sharply at the significance of it. Laura stood up and looked at you for a sign of anything. You nodded as more tears slipped down your cheeks. You reached for her hand again, giving the grave one last glance before you and Laura headed for the border.

next chapter >

[cogentsummoner]

4- lips barely touching small all might x reader

4. lips barely touching

however, this fic is also heavily inspired by these three pieces of art!

You're not sure if he's aware of how obvious he's being.

It's the Might Tower Employee Christmas Party™, and your boss- or rather, your boss' boss, one Mr. Yagi- has been staring wistfully at the mistletoe since he arrived.

Not that you've been watching him the whole time, mind you. That would be weird.

He's been staring at the mistletoe in between chatting with some other folks, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to walk under it. It's not too out of the way, but it's also not, y'know, literally in the doorway. Easy to avoid if you want, but also easy enough to bump into someone accidentally, too.

And that's your plan.

"I do think having me come with you to peer pressure the kiss is the best option," your friend says before downing the rest of his eggnog. "Mr. Yagi is liable to run away like a startled deer if you don't."

"See, I think the peer pressure will just make him more anxious," you counter.

You like Mr. Yagi. He's quite possibly the nicest boss('s boss) you've ever had. He remembers everyone's birthdays, he's always happy to talk to...well, anyone, really, and he's just... sweet. Sweet and genuine in a way that's incredibly endearing. And attractive.

Okay, so maybe you have a little crush on Mr. Yagi. And maybe this whole mistletoe thing is the perfect excuse to kiss him. If he didn't want to be kissed, maybe he shouldn't be- oh fuck, he's finally making his move, he's making a beeline for that mistletoe!

"Oh, shit, go go go!" your friend whisper-yells, giving you a firm shove in the direction of that same mistletoe.

Fuck, okay, you can do this.

Mr. Yagi notices you as stumble towards him, stopping just underneath the mistletoe, and just like he always does, he gives you that big, bright smile you love so much.

Then- and you can see this happen in real time- it clicks in his brain where you both are, and a deep blush blooms on his face.

You look from him, to the mistletoe, then back to him, feeling warmth spread over your own cheeks.

"It's- um- we don't have to! If you're uncomfortable!" he rushes to reassure you, and you can't help but let out a little giggle. It's cute. He's cute.

"I'm comfortable," you reply with a shy smile. "If you are."

He nods shakily, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as it cups your cheek and he slowly leans down.

"You're certain?" he asks, and you wonder for a moment if you'd misread the situation, and he actually just doesn't want to kiss you, but...there's something quiet and wanting in his gaze, all the same.

So it was probably just nerves. You nod, trying not to look too eager. Yes, you want him to kiss you. God, do you want him to kiss you.

His eyes squeeze shut when he finally closes that distance, his lips brushing against yours softly, so softly. Too softly. Way, way too softly, and way too quick.

He pulls back, still trembling, just the slightest bit, his gaze full of longing.

You let out a huff, and bring your hands up to cup his face.

"Mr. Yagi, what kind of kiss was that?" you admonish playfully. Before he can get any wrong ideas in his head, you pull him back down into a kiss- a real kiss this time.

It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what was happening- then, he absolutely melts in your hands, his own hands shyly coming to rest on your waist.

It's clearly been a long time since he'd been kissed- which does blow a hole in the rumor that Mr. Yagi and All Might were sleeping together-but he certainly doesn't want for enthusiasm or passion.

You're all too happy to lean into it, one hand sliding back to play with the hair at the back of his neck. The two of you would've been content to stay like that, had you both not been reminded-

The sound of a camera going off rings through the air.

-that you had an audience.

Mr. Yagi immediately pulls back, face flushing a deep red as he looks around and realizes - yep, a lot of your coworkers were unabashedly staring at the spectacle you two had made of yourselves.

You know they mean no harm- Mr. Yagi was very, very well liked, even if he wasn't the best at actually doing his job, and the only enemies you've made at work have been that one guy in accounting. Everyone's just caught up in what must look like a cute little moment.

But Mr. Yagi wasn't seeing it that way, you can tell. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and there was sweat breaking out on his face. He felt exposed, maybe even humiliated.

So you don't take it personally when he turns to you and says limply, "I-I… I should go, I'm… I'm sorry. Merry Christmas."

You watch him practically run out of there, his face burning, your heart sinking despite yourself.

It's a few minutes later when a coworker who'd come in late walks over to you and tells you, "Hey, I think Mr. Yagi just went back to his office- when I walked by him, he'd pressed up on the elevator."

You nod, and thank them. It's good that he hasn't left- you'll give him about ten minutes to compose himself, then go check on him. No way were you letting this moment fade into an embarrassing memory for either of you. Not after that kiss.

prompt list/ accepting!