#WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! shaking you by the shoulders

[chosok-amo]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[hannieehaee]

can u write something about seungkwan having a s/o with the same personality/vibe as vernon? like one day he would just show up showing his new partner to introduce to the members and they would be like ? this is another version of vernon lol it would be so funny 😭😭

content: bf!seungkwan, established relationship, jeonghan being annoying, other members are present, fluff, etc.

wc: 617

a/n: lol i think seungkwan would totally date someone similar to vernon. their dynamic would eat

masterlist

"i didn't realize your type was vernon."

"what are you talking about?", seungkwan tilted his head in curiosity, furrowing his eyebrows.

jeonghan pointed over at you and a few of the other members, conversing in the distance, "i'm talking about that," he said as if it were the most obvious thing.

"i'm still not getting it."

"that's literally vernon. their style, their deadpan attitude, their voice. they even have the same elitist taste in music and movies. dude, you're dating vernon," he was needlessly exasperated as he listed off his evidence.

"w-wha- that's not true!", seungkwan instantly entered a defensive mode, "sure, vernon's cute, but they're nothing alike. you're crazy."

"just wait til vernon gets here and you'll see. world's gonna explode when they meet."

~

today was the first day seungkwan had ever introduced you to his members. most were currently in the practice room, so you had quickly been able to meet the present ones and engage in conversation. much to seungkwan's contentment, you fit in with the guys perfectly. from the moment you walked in, you managed to assimilate to them seamlessly, almost as if you were part of the group.

come to think of it, it was slightly unnerving how well you fit. jeonghan's words made more and more sense the more he watched you interact with his members. you were kind of like vernon, especially from afar. your dynamic with each of his members seemed pretty similar to that of vernon's, and even your mannerisms unknowingly replicated his. hell, your style was even pretty much the same!

seungkwan could've spent hours mindlessly analyzing the scene in front of him uninterrupted, but suddenly your twin turned up.

seungkwan was snapped out of his trance by a passing pat on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly as he looked to his side to notice vernon passing by him with a quiet 'sup' before continuing to walk in the direction where you were conversing with the rest of the members.

quietly, seungkwan followed, with jeonghan trailing behind him with a chuckle.

"oh, hey," vernon nodded towards you in the nonchalant way he usually did, "you must be kwannie's partner," he offered you a light smile.

you responded with a similarly nonchalant greeting, shaking hands with vernon casually.

"hey. you're vernon, right? kwannie talks about you all the time," you gave him a closed-smile that almost mirrored his own.

"yah! that's not true!", whined kwan.

"dude he won't shut up about you," vernon joined in as he chuckled at his friend's dramatics.

suddenly you and vernon started a conversation completely aside from seungkwan. all the poor boy could do was stand there and watch, equal parts amused and surprised at seeing two people so similar.

jeonghan stood next to him as he watched, though he was more entertained than anything, occasionally chuckling at you and vernon jinxing each other by saying eerily similar things, or even reacting to one another in the exact same way.

"do you think the world will combust if they touch?", murmured seokmin who had just joined in on watching the spectacle.

seungkwan simply grumbled, continuing to attempt to join the conversation despite having no idea of what movie you and vernon were currently discussing.

by the end of it, you and vernon had exchanged contacts, with you providing seungkwan with a hug and a kiss before making your way out.

before seungkwan could say anything, vernon came up to him with yet another pat on his shoulder.

"hey, i like your partner. they're a keeper," he said without nothing the snickers leaving his other members, nor seungkwan's agape mouth at what he'd just witnessed.

hell. maybe he did have a type.

[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and

I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)

For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/

THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂

Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth

Words: 1.2k

“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”

Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas. 

“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter. 

“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.

Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks.

“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”

Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about. 

“The…scrunch?” he asks. 

“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”

By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.

“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”

“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”

“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”

“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”

“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away. 

“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.

Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”

“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth. 

The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan. 

“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”

Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now. 

Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you. 

“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”

“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.

Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again. 

“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.

Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.

“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.

“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles. 

“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”

“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”

Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.

“What?”

“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.

A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.

You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness. 

“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.

“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.

“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”

“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”

It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

jjk men comforting you after a rough day

Pairings: Megumi x reader; Yuji x reader; Gojo x reader; Choso x reader; Sukuna x reader

Word Count:3,7k

Warnings: none of those scenarios is specific, just reader having a rough day, fluff in every part hehe

Megumi Fushiguro

The world seems extra heavy today, each step on your way home slower than the last. By the time you finally open the door to Megumi’s dorm like you’re used to, your shoulders ache with the weight of it all. But there, waiting in the soft, golden light of his room, is Megumi. He stands in his usual way, casual but attentive, eyes soft as he takes you in as if he’s been waiting for your arrival.

There’s no need to say a single word; he reads everything in the slump of your posture, the tired line of your mouth, your already glossy eyes. He’s always had a way of seeing beyond the surface when it came to you, and tonight is no different.

“Long day?” he asks gently, voice so quiet it feels like a balm against the noise in your mind.

His eyes search yours before he reaches to take your bag from your shoulder, placing it carefully by the door. You nod, the exhaustion catching up with you as the reality of being home, of being with him, finally settles in. What a hell of a day or rather week this was.

Without saying another word, he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as warm and grounding as ever. There’s comfort in his touch, in the solid warmth of his palm against yours, that makes you feel more at ease than you have all day. He doesn’t press you to talk, doesn’t ask for more than you’re ready to give. Instead, he simply guides you to his bed and settles down beside you, close enough that you can feel his presence like a protective shield.

As you sink into the cushions, he drapes a blanket over your legs, tucking it around you in his careful, unhurried way. He shifts beside you, pulling you gently to rest against his shoulder. The gesture is so familiar, so subtly caring, that you feel a pang in your chest - a reminder that here, with him, you’re safe. You close your eyes for a brief, letting the silence stretch between you, and just breathe in the quiet assurance of his presence. To be honest, this is what you’ve been longing for all day.

Megumi’s hand finds yours again, his fingers tracing gentle circles against the palm of your hand. It’s a small gesture, one that could go unnoticed, but it feels like he’s saying everything while not using a single word.

You let out a deep sigh, allow yourself to sink into him, feeling the weight of the day slowly but surely melt away, bit by bit with each stroke of his thumb against your hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks eventually, his voice low and calm.

There’s no pressure in his tone, just an open invitation, one you know he’d withdraw just as easily if you weren’t ready. You shake your head, feeling that threatful lump aching inside your throat. No, you’re absolutely not in the mood to cry right now. Megumi seems to understand though, his gaze softening as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

For a while, you simply sit together, the silence like a healing balm, soothing in its simplicity. When he feels you start to relax, Megumi shifts slightly, freeing his arm so he can wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your head, a rare display of affection that you feel down to your bones.

The minutes pass in comfortable silence, the kind that only exists with someone like him. Every once in a while, he glances down at you, his gaze gentle and steady, as if checking to make sure you’re still okay. His other hand traces slow, soothing patterns on your arm, the rhythmic motion calming the last lingering traces of stress from the day.

Eventually, he shifts again, adjusting so you’re resting more comfortably against him, his fingers threading through your hair in a slow, steady motion. The tenderness in his movements is so gentle, so completely at odds with his usual stoic demeanor, that you feel your heart ache in the best way. With Megumi, you don’t need to pretend. He sees you as you are, accepts every part of you, even on the days when you feel worn down to nothing.

The evening stretches on, peaceful and calm, until you find yourself dozing off against him, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest. His hand stays in your hair, his fingers moving with a slow, practiced ease, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

And in that moment, as the world fades into soft shadows, you know that with Megumi, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Yuji Itadori

You don’t just feel tired tonight. No, you feel like the world is pressing down on you, relentless and merciless. It’s the kind of day that pulls at every thread holding you together, and by the time you reach home, it’s as if all the carefully managed fragments of yourself threaten to break loose.

You push open the door, and Yuji is there, his smile lighting up the moment he sees you. But as soon as he registers your stoic expression, the smile fades into something softer, more tentative.

"Hey," he greets you with warm and concerned-filled voice.

You okay?"

The question, such a damn simple question, breaks something in you. The day’s weight crashes down on you like a tsunami. And before you can stop it, the tears spill over. You try to brush them away, shaking your head as you choke on a frustrated, angry sob. Are you really standing in front of your boyfriend while crying over something like a rough day?  

Yuji’s eyes widen for a moment out of visibly surprise, but then he’s right there, a grounding presence in the storm of your emotions.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, moving closer, his arms wrapping around you in a hug so warm and secure it feels like it could hold the world together.

"Let it out. I’m right here, okay? Let’s get you inside."

You press your face into his chest, the tears streaming freely now, and your hands clutch at his shirt, desperate for something solid. Every frustration, every stress, every hurt you’ve kept inside spills over uncontrollably. Why has all of this have to be so damn hard?

 “I… I just can’t… I tried so hard today, but it didn’t matter, and… everything’s just too much…”

Yuji’s hand strokes gently along your back, his touch steady and unwavering.

“I get it. I know it’s hard sometimes. I know it can all feel like too much. But you don’t have to handle it alone, yeah?”

His words are simple but hit deep, and you let out a shaky exhale as you lean into him, allowing yourself to be held. Yuji’s warmth radiates through you, steady and grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to fix anything. He just stays, solid and unwavering, letting you release every emotion without a single spark of judgment in his eyes.

After a while, when the tears have slowed and the storm inside you has begun to calm, Yuji pulls back just enough to look at you. He reaches up, brushing away the lingering tears with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“You know,” he begins, his voice soft and genuine, “you’re allowed to feel this way. You don’t always have to be okay.”

A small, shaky laugh escapes you, the weight easing just a little.

“That’s good to hear…”

Yuji smiles back, a glimmer of that familiar brightness returning to his face.

“Hey, let’s do something fun. Just you and me. We’ll get ice cream or watch the silliest movie we can find. I bet we can make this day end on a good note.”

You nod, a small smile breaking through, and let him lead you into the living room, his arm still around your shoulders, grounding you with each step.

“I don’t want to watch the one with the worms, though.”

“WHY NOT?”

Satoru Gojo

The day has left you in pieces, each moment sharp and overwhelming, until you can barely stand the pressure building inside you. As you step into the apartment, every sensation - light, sound, touch - feels too much. You shut the door behind you, your breath coming in shallow, unsteady gasps, and it’s as if all the emotions have reached their breaking point. Fuck, don’t start crying right here on the spot, don’t let it all out, get yourself together-

A whimper escapes your lips and before you’re able to comprehend it, Satoru is already there, crossing the room in two easy strides. He reads the distress in your eyes instantly, the usual teasing gleam in his gaze replaced by genuine concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice unusually soft.

Honestly, it’s the last question you want to hear right now. Especially when he looks at you all serious.

“I can’t—” you start, your voice choked with frustration and exhaustion.

“Everything is just… too much, Satoru. I can’t handle it right now.”

Your words come out in a tangle, each one louder than the last, until you’re practically shouting, your hands shaking as you try to articulate the chaos inside you.

Instead of stepping back, Satoru stays close, his expression calm and grounded, giving you a safe space to release it all.

“Let it out,” he says quietly, and something in his voice unlocks the dam inside you.

 The anger, the sadness, the frustration. All of it pours out in a torrent of words and tears, your hands clenched in fists at your sides as you struggle to contain it.

When the words finally run dry, when you’re left feeling like absolute shit, Satoru reaches out, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You don’t have to handle it alone,” he murmurs, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles on your back.

“Sometimes, you just need to let it out. I’ll be here for all of it, not only the fun stuff.”

You bury your face against his chest, your fingers clinging to his shirt for dear life as he holds you, steady and comforting. There’s something supporting in his embrace, something that reminds you that he’s there, a steady presence in the storm of your emotions. Have you ever seen your boyfriend with something like worry filling his eyes, with that glint of seriousness you’ve never seen before in his gaze?

 His hand strokes your hair, slow and reassuring, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

"I know it’s hard, and I know it’s not fair. But I promise, you don’t have to go through it alone."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you pull back just enough to look up at him, your breath still shaky but the tension easing slightly. He gives you a reassuring smile, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Hey. I know the best treatment for a day like this: a midnight snack. Something sweet, maybe? How about…mochi from that one street?”

“That’s your favorite treat, Satoru.”

“And you’ve mine. So I guess that’s the perfect solution, right?”

His words pull a reluctant laugh from you, and he grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you toward the kitchen.

“Come on, let’s make some memories that’ll drown out the bad ones.”

With Satoru, there’s always a way forward, always a spark of light, even in the darkest moments. Even if it’s a mochi from across the street.

Choso Kamo

The day has left you feeling frayed, worn down to your very core. As you trudge through the door, your gaze drops to the floor, too tired to muster a smile, let alone look at your boyfriend. There’s no need to drag Choso down with you, right?

But before you can even think, he’s right there on his own, his quiet presence filling the room like a comforting warmth. He tilts your head up and meets your gaze, understanding in an instant that you’re feeling down.

Without a word, he steps forward, his hands reaching out in that cautious, careful way of his. He’s always so gentle with you, as if afraid he might break something fragile while touching you. His hands cup your face, his thumbs tracing a feather-light path along your cheekbones as he studies you, his gaze searching and full of an unspoken concern that tugs at your heart.

“You look tired,” he says softly, the rough edge of his voice softened by a tenderness that surprises you every time.

His words hold no judgment, only a quiet understanding that makes you feel seen, truly seen, in a way few people ever manage. His thumb brushes along your cheek, slow and soothing, and it’s enough to make your shoulders relax, the tension melting away beneath his touch.

Choso steps back just slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, and then he gently pulls you toward the living room. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you time to catch up, to let go of the day’s weight at your own pace. He guides you to the couch, his hand steady and warm in yours, and you sink into the cushions with a heavy sigh, grateful for the comforting presence beside you.

As you lean back, Choso sits down next to you, close but not crowding. He’s quiet, as he often is, letting the stillness speak for him. It’s a silence that feels like home, that wraps around you like a familiar embrace, offering comfort without demanding anything in return. You close your eyes, leaning your head back against a cushion and just exist, the steady rhythm of his breathing next to you lulling your brain in.

After a few moments, you feel his hand reach for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle hold that feels both protective and grounding. His thumb strokes the back of your hand in slow, deliberate circles, a silent reminder that he’s here, that you’re not alone. You feel the tension in your chest begin to ease, the weight of the day slipping away, bit by bit, with each slow, soothing motion.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost hesitant.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

His tone is careful, as if he’s afraid to intrude, to push too hard. What if you don’t want to talk? What if he’s done something wrong?

You shake your head, feeling the words catch in your throat, and he nods, as if he expected nothing more.

For a while, the two of you sit in silence, the room filled with a peaceful calm that only Choso seems to create. His hand remains in yours, his grip steady and reassuring, as if securing you to the present, to the here and now. Every once in a while, he glances over at you, his gaze soft and full of an unspoken care that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and comforted. Oh, how lucky you are to call him yours.

Sukuna

The day has worn you down to the point of raw nerves, every small inconvenience piling up, every task feeling like an impossible problem. By the time you make it home, every sight, every sound feels like it’s pushing you closer to the edge. You step through the door, exhausted and on the brink.

And there he is, lounging on the couch with his usual air of dominance and confidence. His crimson eyes flick up as you enter, taking in the tension in your posture and the clenched fists at your sides.

“Finally home,” he drawls, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Took you long enough.”

Something inside you snaps. After all the shit you’ve been through this week, those countless working hours, this is what he has to say while lounging around all week? It’s too much, too much for you to hold back any longer.

“Do you ever stop?” you shout, the words tearing out of you before you can stop them.

“Do you ever just let me be for one moment? I’m exhausted, Sukuna! I can’t keep going like this!”

Your voice rings through the room, raw and sharp, and you feel your chest tighten as the tears begin to burn behind your eyes. Fuck, what the hell was that? Every emotion you’ve tried to hold in comes crashing out, your voice rising as you vent your frustration, no longer caring if he’s listening, no longer caring if he even understands.

Sukuna’s smirk fades as he watches you, his gaze narrowing. For a moment, he just stares at you, unreadable and quiet, and you’re ready for some biting retort, ready for him to say something that will only make the anger worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he shifts forward, unfolding himself from the couch in one smooth, measured movement, his expression turning serious.

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice low and calm, an unexpected contrast to the storm of emotions raging inside you.

His gaze sharpens as he takes a step closer, his presence like a dark cloud filling the room.

"Do you think I don’t see you, tearing yourself apart for things that don’t matter?"

You shake your head, the frustration still twisting inside your chest.

“You wouldn’t understand. You never have to deal with… with any of this.”

Your voice cracks, and you can’t stop the way your hands press to your temples, every sound, every light feeling like it’s pressing in on you, swelling the ache in your head.

“Everything feels too loud, too much… I can’t think. Fuck, I can’t even breathe.”

The admission comes out in a broken whisper, and suddenly, all the fight leaves you, your shoulders slumping as the first tears start to fall. You try to hold them back, but it’s no use -the exhaustion and frustration come pouring out like rain after a sunny day, leaving you standing there, shattered and vulnerable, feeling raw in a way that makes your skin prickle.

Sukuna’s expression shifts, his eyes narrowing, and for a brief moment, something softer flickers in his gaze, an emotion you can’t name. He closes the distance between you, stopping just close enough that his presence grounds you, but not touching, not crowding you in the way he often does. It’s a small gesture, but you feel the shift in the air, an acknowledgment of your boundaries that surprises you.

He waits, watching you with a calm intensity, and then he speaks, his voice firm but oddly gentle.

“Enough of that,” he says, his tone carrying a command you can’t help but obey.

“Let it out. Whatever’s holding you down, get rid of it.”

His words hang heavy in the air. You can’t explain yourself why, but the permission, the demand even, to let yourself break in front of him makes something in you finally give in.

The tears come faster now, unchecked, and before you know it, you’re sobbing like a baby with your hands covering your face as you let go of everything you’ve been holding back for way too long. Those countless shitty conversations, all that fighting, the long appointments, the invoices…

Sukuna’s hand finds its way to your shoulder, his touch solid while being the tiniest bit rough.

“Is that all?” he murmurs, his voice so close it sends a shiver down your spine.

His hand slides down your arm, fingers curling around your wrist as he pulls your hand gently from your face, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek in a gesture that’s surprisingly tender for him.

“Look at me.”

You lift your head, your vision blurred while trying to meet his gaze. His expression is intense, but there’s no mockery there, no hint of the usual smirk that taunts you. Instead, he holds your gaze, letting you see that he’s truly there, that he’s not going to dismiss your pain.

“Whatever broke you today,” he says slowly, “it’s nothing. Nothing compared to you, nothing compared to what you can handle.”

His fingers trace your cheek, his thumb lingering just below your eye, wiping away the last traces of your tears.

“You don’t have to keep it together all the time. But don’t let this-” he gestures around as if encompassing all the stress that brought you here, “- consume you. You’re stronger than that, brat.”

There’s a powerful certainty in his words, a certainty that almost makes you believe it too. And as the last of your tears dry, you feel a strange sense of relief, as if the storm inside you has finally quieted. Maybe…he’s right. Maybe you did worry too much…

For a moment, neither of you moves, the silence stretching between you. Then, he steps back, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his gaze softening as he watches you.

“Next time you’re this worked up, come to me. I’ll remind you of your strength if you forget again.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au) - camgirl edi!

smut - voyeurism, porn watching, sharing, ambiguous ending; again, this is a non-canon part of sseoi! also ik this scenario is unrealistic but read for the vibes!!!

obsessed with this previous part posted, and can’t stop thinking about how the boys used to chirp at simon for calling his fave cam girl his girl, only for it to end there, anyway.

how johnny was the first to find out when he caught simon listening to your stream like it’s a fucking podcast while he was taping his stick.

it was still too early in the morning for practice, but simon had been out with a minor lower injury and no one was really shocked that he’s the first in the rink when he got his permission from their physio. it was nice to see their A excited to get back on ice because truthfully? they needed him back. the team wasn’t straggling by any means but there’s an obvious difference with simon out which was why johnny found himself just as excited when simon told the group chat the good news, bounding in early for the morning skate too.

there were soft murmurs slipping past the cracked door when he made his way, and johnny pushed through the entrance, expecting maybe someone else with riley — maybe their captain or their coach — but it’s just their A.

and his phone, at full volume and full brightness, showcasing a… porn?

amateur porn, from the looks of it.

“uh?” was all johnny could say.

simon looked up, not even really appearing to be mortified that johnny just walked in on him watching a porn live-stream; the healthy sheen on his face did not even break for an embarrassed blush and, really, johnny started wondering if there was something he was missing.

“hey, mate,” simon greeted, still unaffected and screw it, johnny decided to ignore the wet squelch coming from the phone to reach forward and clap his arms around his friend.

“good to see ye back, man,” johnny said, chuckling. simon rumbled a quiet laugh too, looking pretty pleased and at peace like there’s no raunchy moans rumbling from his speakers—

you know what? fuck it.

“so you pent up in a different way, or?” johnny asked, nodding at the phone.

simon blinked, brows wrinkling in confusion for a second, before clarity washed over him, so obvious that johnny could track the moment he remembered what he had been listening to before johnny walked in.

“oh,” he huffed, shoulders shaking in another burst of quiet chuckles. “y’ve got to see ‘er. fuckin’ beautiful, this one.”

that… was not what johnny expected but he dropped on the cubicle beside simon to peek at his screen. apparently, he glanced at the right time as he watched the way your cunt stretched around the girth of your vibrator, made of glass, and the image you made was so startlingly lewd that johnny couldn’t even help groaning in appreciation too.

simon grins with something akin to pride, like he was telling johnny, “see? what’d i tell you?”

johnny would forget about that day until simon’s blunder of using his public account to blast his feelings for you, his clearly-not-just-pure feelings, made national news. their poor PR and media intern were working overtime to fix simon’s mistake because of course simon did not stop at just retweeting your website’s link while professing how he’s never cum so hard for anyone. no, he had to take it a little farther — he mass liked about fifty posts that you have made in two months time in the span of the three hours since they’ve flown back from tampa.

it was hell; apparently his profile was so thoroughly linked to your own with how active he was within those three hours of liking everything he could, that they suggested he just delete his profile and start anew. johnny doubted he was going to, what with his brand deals and other things, but then you poked back at simon and simon was so enamoured that he just took off the rails and flirted with you publicly.

he was unbelievable. simon was horny and yearning — a weird mix, but one that… worked, apparently, because here you are now, standing before them, all pretty and breathtaking.

johnny can’t even deny that he’s not distracted because, well, because they’ve seen you.

naked.

and getting fucked to the point of snot and tears.

fuck, this was not an easy meet-and-greet.

.

it was difficult to not cross the line when chirping at simon about his new relationship but garrick had been firm with his reminder, staring them down with that downturned tilt of his lips that spoke of no-nonsense. and no one ever wants to disappoint their captain so they steered clear of the obvious, like the fact that they all, at one point, watched your videos because simon just wouldn’t shut up about you. he was damn near close to waxing poetry which would have been cute if, you know, simon did not sound like a pervert who’s clearly whipped for a stranger.

it was funny then. it’s downright petrifying now.

they know more about you than they wished they did, like the fact that your go-to toy when the ejaculating dragon one is in the ‘wash’ is that vibrating dildo that is probably half the girth of johnny’s arm which is to say that it’s fucking thick, but still, you were able to bully all of that in your pussy, whining and mewling, before fucking down on it so hard it was bulging out of the soft pudge of your belly. or how you like having your nipples clamped. or how you have such a thing for oral stuff that you’d deepthroat a dildo while bouncing on another one.

it was a whiplash, going from watching you touch yourself in ways unfathomable to seeing you in front of them, giggling as you and simon share quiet conversations like they’re some sacred things.

fuck.

not even kyle, with his big announcement, could fake normalcy because you were a locker room name. they’ve all recommended different videos to each other — hell, all of them are still in that group chat they made to share links with each other. sure, simon had created it but no one really put it to rest — messages like, “she got anything in [x] cosplay?” or, “saw a short clip of her rubbing her pussy on her washing machine in twitter, does anyone have the full ver?” were getting passed around.

you were the darling girl of the team, and now simon’s got you cuffed.

it was easy to pinpoint the source of tension — the guys want a taste.

johnny stares at you and simon, and the secretive little smiles and heated looks that the two of you are sharing with each other, and realizes that maybe, just maybe, they are allowed it.

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader Fandom: attack on titan (modern au) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics / gif by pankago

part one. / part three. | masterlist

There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours—

A noisy bar quickly becomes background white noise.

—if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.

And within a breath, the world ceases to exist.

You’re not sure what you were expecting him to say, but it sure as hell isn’t that.

(He gets paid to be a smooth talker, but holy shit, it is catastrophically different when you’re saddled with the reality that you can walk — run — straight to the man inviting you to his home.)

Before you can even think, your voice blurts out of your parted lips:

“I don’t mind.”

Not.

At.

All.

Annie will forgive you.

Hell, you bet everyone crowding that tiny high-top table will forgive you come Monday morning when you’re back in the office.

Half of them won’t even remember that you were there in the first place. It’s a win-win situation.

There is no hesitation in the way you pick up your purse from the countertop and rush towards the front entrance of the bar, your eyes zeroed in on a patient Levi.

It takes some serpentining, but eventually you burst through the doors.

Levi turns towards you, his cell phone still held to his ear. 

There’s a little pink in his cheeks — from the nipping bite of the cold evening weather or his quick-witted pick-up line, you aren’t sure.

“Sorry,” you exhale like you’ve run a marathon in such a short distance. “I should’ve said bye or something before running out here, but I figured—”

The fringe of his hair shakes in his eyes as he holds up a finger to his lips.

Silence.

A stern expression replaces the debonair, and for a moment, you wonder if something is wrong.

But then—

“Yeah, no, I’m calling out for the evening,” he states. “Will you relay, Petra?”

Petra.

You know that woman’s name.

(The hotline receptionist responsible for connecting you to him.)

“Not an emergency, no,” he reassures, brows briefly knitting together. “Just taking some time off.” A pause. “Why are you laughing?” Another pause. “Forward them to Erwin. I trust him not to run my damn clients off. Thanks.”

Oh.

He’s—

“Sorry about that.”

Pocketing his phone, he squares his shoulders and waits expectantly. 

A suspicious crawl of embarrassment runs through your veins, like somehow being spontaneous — selfish — inconvenienced him.

“You had a shift tonight?” you ask belatedly.

“I did,�� Levi admits, that buttery-smooth voice curving with a lift of amusement. “And now I don’t.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to mess up your—”

“I have over a hundred hours of time accrued,” he interrupts in the very tone he’s used in your sessions before when you chalk up your existence as being a nuisance to him: stop. “If anything, it’ll get them off of my ass for never using it.”

Your brows raise. “A hundred?”

“Over,” Levi corrects, “so you’re doing me a favor — if you’re still in the mood for tea, of course.”

There’s a pause. A taxi flies by to fill the anticipating void.

I’m well past the mood for tea — is what you would say if you were a psychopath.

Instead you clamp your mouth shut and nod. 

Levi nods with you, seemingly exhaling a breath he may have been holding. As he steps forward, one foot in front of the other.

His attention drops from your face, searching your form in a way that makes you feel exposed.

Wanted.

Then he clears his throat and raises a stiff elbow — a polite gesture.

Take it.

The sheer idea of touching him is so fucking daunting.

Until now, you haven’t done anything but fantasize about him, but he’s flesh and blood and right in front of you — if you’re willing to simply take.

So you do.

Slowly you glide your hand over the crease of his elbow, tucking it against his side until your bodies are looped. The sheer cut of his bicep in his 90-degree angle threatens to make you lose your composure.

Jesus, it’s so solid.

(It’ll be a miracle if you even make it back to his apartment in one piece, let alone your own after everything is said and done.)

He walks. You follow until you match his pace.

For most of the journey, the two of you step in silent tandem. 

While he stares ahead, stopping you both whenever you reach a crosswalk, you can’t help but look over his profile. His cheekbones are even higher than you imagined, chiseled from the Gods, with dark hair that fades in an undercut at the nape of his neck.

Levi is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life, and you live in a pretty damn busy city, so you’ve seen a lot of men.

“Stairs or elevator?” he asks once he breaks the rhythm of your feet to move two paces ahead, grabbing the door with his fist. He detaches from you to pull open the door, offering you to walk through first. 

You’re so giddy over the chivalry you nearly miss the question. 

“Wait, what?”

“Stairs.” He nods his head, the stark black fringe waving with it. “Or elevator.”

“You live on the sixteenth floor.” 

“Yeah.”

“Wait — Levi, do you walk the fucking stairs?”

Levi blinks like he has to remember that isn’t normal before clearing his throat.

“Sometimes.”

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t want to get complacent after losing my job at the gym,” he states, changing his trajectory as he heads for the elevator instead.

You’re grateful that, for once, you’re not trying to act brave — or stupid.

Your big mouth doesn’t try to say that sixteen flights of stairs is totally fine just to impress him.

(This man has already heard what you sound like when you orgasm on more than one occasion. In some twisted way, the two of you are way past the surface stages of courting, but it doesn’t make this any less daunting.)

Once more he tracks ahead to hold the elevator door for you. Waiting until you’re comfortably inside, he presses the grayed ‘16’ button on the panel. It illuminates in an outdated hazy yellow — forcing your attention to the grayed ‘10’ just below it.

Six fucking floors, all this time.

Once the doors close, Levi Ackerman leans his back against the metal wall, his arms crossed and forearms barred from his rolled-up sleeves. 

You stay put in the dead center of the lift, watching him stare at the elevator panel until he lifts his chin to look back at you.

Neither of you look away.

The prolonged eye contact feels like an acknowledgement of a solved mystery between two people.

He knows you better than most people. You’d wager you may know him just as well.

“You okay?” he asks, softer this time. 

The intensity of his gaze doesn’t waver.

You find yourself nodding before you realize it. 

“Are you?”

Levi takes a moment to drop his attention an indiscernible amount, mulling over your question, before meeting your eyes once again.

“Yeah. Better than.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Nothing can stop the smile growing on your face, not even by pressing your lips together.

“Never told me your preference,” he states casually, shaking some of his black fringe from his eyes. “In tea, I mean.”

“I’m happy to have whatever you have,” you promise. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be,” he promises right back. “Trust me, I have every type of tea you could think of.”

“Hoarding?”

“Hopelessly addicted, more like.”

The elevator pauses and gives way to the sixteenth floor’s hallway. When the door opens, Levi unfurls his arms to hold his hand out for you to take — only to seem to think better of it and fish for his keys instead as he takes the lead.

Instinctually your hand flexes at the ready to accept, but it falls limp to your side with the decision to simply follow behind.

(Yeah — you’re not used to the proximity yet, either.)

After passing a few apartments, Levi pauses at a door identical to yours and fiddles with the lock until it gives. 

He pushes it open, gesturing for you to walk in first.

A part of you wants to hesitate.

The rest of you refuses.

His apartment is clean to a degree you’ve never seen before — for a person who had no idea he was going to end up coming home with a stranger, you’re impressed by the lack of clothes lying about or…

Really anything.

Everything appears pristine. 

Taken care of.

So meticulously in order that you quickly toe each shoe off before stepping inside to leave the dirt and grime of the city at his doorstep. 

Levi follows suit, removing his shoes and closing the door behind him.

As you stand awkwardly by the door, he shuffles around you to the kitchenette mirroring yours a few apartments below. 

He reaches up into the cupboards to take out two mugs, preparing a kettle on the stove.

“Make yourself at home,” he offers, glancing over his shoulder towards you.

Right.

At home.

At home in the apartment where you got your shit verbally rocked for a week straight.

Afraid of offending him, you begin a slow mosey around the perimeter.

To the right is a cluster of framed photographs hanging on a wall — one portrays a tall, handsome blonde wearing dog tags around his neck and an all-smiles brunette with glasses cinching a less-than-enthused Levi between them. 

The proximity suggests they could be his friends, though the keys each person holds in the photo makes you realize a second later: 

In the background is a boxing ring, barely unpacked.

The co-owners of the old gym, maybe?

Considering the one person has dog tags, you can only assume they all met in the army and found themselves in the same city after deployment.

Another framed photograph has Levi in a similar annoyed disposition, arms crossed and unenthusiastic in contrast to the surrounding smiling young adults. They crowd him in various poses of muscle flexing, proudly sporting Survey Gym tees.

So his gym was called Survey Gym, huh?

The name rings a bell, if only in passing.

The young faces surrounding him must have been his trainees. His fighters.

(The people he held dear before the gym went under and he had to find a new path.)

“Trying to find dirt on me already?”

His voice makes you jump out of your damn skin.

“Oh — shit, sorry,” you sputter, stepping away from the wall. “I was just—”

“That was a joke,” he interrupts, the corner of his lip twitching. 

Levi takes the initiative to walk over to you with both mugs in hand, steaming from freshly brewed tea.

He holds out a no-frills emerald mug to you, and the scent finally catches your nose:

Lavender.

“Those are my friends, if you’re too polite to ask.”

“I was relying on context clues,” you confess, mindful of the heat when taking the mug from his hand. You sip until a familiar warmth spreads through your body. “Co-owners?”

“Used to be,” he answers after his own gulp. His free hand gestures to the photo with two people. “Hange’s probably clinically insane and Erwin’s not much better.”

“The guy you mentioned over the phone to Petra?”

Levi nods, taking another long sip of his tea. You follow suit, enjoying the taste.

“Same guy who got me into the hotline, yeah.” He switches focus to the other photo. “Some of my fighters. They’re busy training with other coaches and shit now.”

“Would you ever go back to training fighters if you could?”

“Probably,” Levi replies, “but I’m not exactly the easiest to work with. If I’m training anyone, it’s alongside Erwin. No exceptions.”

Silence settles between your bodies.

As you continue to stand there, allowing the aroma of the tea to calm your senses, you know — the longer you stand here, the more what ifs begin to plague your mind.

What if you met his friends, became a part of his life?

What if you don’t measure up to his expectations?

What if you just said what was on your mind without holding back — would it scare him?

When you feel your mug suddenly grow light, your instinct is to clench your hand around the ceramic handle.

However, you come back down to Earth to realize the person maneuvering the cup is Levi, who has in turn moved closer to you —

So close you can smell the faint scent of a woody, musky cologne.

Angled towards your body, he pauses in removing the mug from your hands when he feels your muscles tense. “You’re disappearing on me.”

So he noticed, even in person.

Say it.

Say it, idiot.

“Just…” 

Trailing off, you find yourself trusting him; letting go of the mug freely so that he can take it back. Levi sets both mugs down on a slender table situated just under the photographs, placing them on swirling marble coasters.

“Just?” he repeats, a mere murmur this time.

“This doesn’t feel real yet,” you confess. “Being here with you. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I wanted this but in my own apartment. Hell, it feels like this is my apartment because we have the same fucking layout — but yours is so much cleaner, I won’t even lie to you.”

It brings you both to laugh under your breath, octaves intertwining. 

When he shakes his head, you find yourself gravitating to his orbit.

“Doubt it’s bad.”

“Oh, it’s a pigsty compared to this place,” you nervously giggle, moving even closer. “Like, I should go home to clean it – but later.”

“Definitely later.”

“Like tomorrow kind of later," you accidentally joke.

“Agreed.”

Oh.

Before the realization hits you, your breath tickles his cheek. Levi is practically toe-to-toe and warm, so very warm, to the degree of dizzying every reservation you had.

You don’t have the confidence to stare anywhere but his lips, parted with little puffs mirroring yours.

“And what is that you want now?” he adds quietly — a question that shoots straight to your core, twisting it with an intense desire that it nearly takes your breath away.

You know.

And if you were a gambling woman, then you suspect that he knows, too.

Three words exit your mouth, straight from your very soul:

“To be selfish.”

It’s all it takes.

As if released from a leash holding you both to your leads, you meet Levi in a passionate, suffocating kiss. 

His hands reach for your face the same time you reach for his, mangling your limbs in a race to touch, to hold — to feel.

Manners are left behind as you press your lips to his, kissing him like you’ll die without. Your own hands bury themselves in the softness of his hair, dragging through the freshly-buzzed undercut and earning yourself a groan.

Shit.

He sounds even better in person.

“Levi—”

You part your lips with a shuddered breath when his tongue leisurely slides across it. All coherent thought ceases to exist.

It’s just him pushing closer — guiding you backwards — until your back hits something solid.

A surprised grunt melts into another groan as he moves one hand to cradle your head, mindful that the back of your skull doesn’t slam against the wall.

Levi tastes like the pineapple seltzer you abandoned back at the bar.

You want this.

Him.

Never in your wildest dreams have you considered sleeping over a man’s apartment before the third date, let alone the first, yet the heat of him — the taste of him — opens brand-new possibilities that mostly focus on the rest of that body underneath his gray long-sleeved shirt.

You're already grabbing the hem of your shirt. The fabric feels too tight against your blazing skin.

Off.

Everything needs to be off.

“Hey,” he exhales in-between kisses, catching your lower lip in his teeth to tug at it. Instantly you whine into his mouth, an involuntary (and fucking embarrassing) noise. “Hey—”

If he asks, you’ll say yes. 

To hell with the unwritten rules.

You’re consenting adults, it’s clear you both want this, and when push comes to shove —

A hand shoots out, covering yours before your shirt can lift over your bra.

“Baby—”

All motor functions effectively freeze when you realize Levi is pulling away, forcefully creating some distance between your panting bodies.

“Baby, listen to me.”

As if in pain, he grits his teeth and pulls away from the kiss, eyes damn near black. 

You’re left watching, stunned and disheveled and painfully aroused.

Worries go from nonexistent to overdrive in a matter of seconds.

“What’s wrong?” you quietly ask despite your budding panic. “Fuck. Sorry, did I do something wro—”

“No. Shit, are you kidding?”

Those stormy eyes catch yours, and you feel another sharp wave of desire flow through your body.

“You’re perfect,” Levi continues, struggling to catch his breath. “You’re fucking perfect, it’s just—”

Just.

One word acts like a splash of cold water.

You’re perfect, but something is imperfect about this. 

You’re perfect, but he still wants to stop.

Levi scowls, voice rough. “Oi. I can hear you thinking a mile a minute.”

Heat rises to your face. “Me?”

“Yeah, you — so don’t.”

For good measure of reassurance, Levi leans back in to gently peck your lips. It’s less heated but by no means less passionate.

You belatedly press your lips back to his before watching him pull away. 

His lips are slick with saliva and exertion. 

There’s a deeper flush on his face that wasn’t there earlier.

“It’s just that I don’t want to rush this,” he states as calmly and evenly as he can.

Objectively, you get it.

Objectively, Levi is making a whole lot of sense. Rushing into things could end up with a lot of heartbreak and confusion. Taking it slow hurts way less than speedrunning the firsts of a new dating-situation-whatever this is.

Subjectively, you’ve heard him moan in your actual face and you would very much like to hear it again and again until it’s burned into the back of your brain like a core memory.

“And I’m not trying to say that we can’t — trust me, I want to — but you’re not some one-night stand to me in any capacity of the damn phrase.”

Unable to help yourself, you nervously roll your eyes and shrug a shoulder. 

“Technically we’re kind of way past one night stands considering we’ve had, like, six.”

A wicked smirk flickers across his face. 

“Yeah, no fucking kidding — but that isn’t what I mean.”

Taking yet another slow, even inhale, the dark-haired man runs his thumb affectionately over your cheek.

“Let me do right by you. By this. Even if it’s corny as shit, I’ll try it.”

Pausing, he drops the hand on your face to gently take your hand.

“I want to take you out on a date. A nice date. Something proper — starting with finishing our tea, then walking you home so I know you got to your apartment safe.”

“I’m six floors away, Levi,” you tease.

“I’ll settle on taking the elevator with you,” he retorts, teasing right back. "Still: let me prove I can be good to you. That I can earn you."

He pauses, jaw clenched.

"Earn us."

Reluctantly you both detach, the taste shared on your lips. He wastes no time to take your hand in his, squeezing it for emphasis, before giving you back your cup of tea.

Although the room is charged with tension, you both behave.

Sipping tea.

Holding hands.

Staring.

As much as you want to act on your desires, you’re flattered he’s so adamant to take this slow.

It only grounds this fantasy further into the woven fabric of reality — of what’s to come in your life.

Levi is good on his word: he walks you to the elevator, through the corridor and to your apartment.

And when you’ve managed to wriggle your keys into the door, he gently calls your name.

Just as you turn, he places that warm hand on your cheek and presses his lips back to yours.

This time it’s chaste, sweet — lingering.

They brush yours methodically, as if committing your body to memory, before reluctantly pulling away.

“Goodnight, formerly Scarlet,” he states under his breath for only you to hear.

“Goodnight, still Levi,” you return, mirroring his intimacy in tone.

Satisfied, he kisses you one final time before pulling away. 

You watch as he walks backwards towards the stairwell of the apartment complex, a certain glow about him as he asks:

“Will I see you at the gym in the morning?”

As if you’d ever skip a leg day now.

.

Author's Note:

First of all, much love and appreciation for your patience as I finally found the mental capacity to write this chapter. Naturally it was easier to write in the summer, and fall has been A Time (TM). I have a lot of big life events coming up in the next few weeks, but I will keep the dash posted on when they should expect part three.

Thank you for any likes, replies, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[bunniesanddeer]

Hate: Part Two

Part two to this fic: Part One

Pairings: Alastor X Reader, (Hints of Angel Dust/Husk)

Warnings: Reader still hates Alastor, Reluctant enemies to enemies with benefits, angst, so much angst, Angel is a good friend, SMUT

Word Count: 5,109

MINORS DNI

Everything was awkward, now. You couldn’t look in any direction without being faced with evidence of his existence. He was absolutely everywhere, and not always in person. His coat folded neatly over the arm of a chair. The spices in the cupboard that he got specifically for when he made dinner. The red radio in the library. His scent lingered in your bed, even after the sheets had been changed twice. The bruises had stayed for weeks, dull green marks pressed into the dimples of your hips. 

Sometimes, when he spoke, you had such a visceral, subconscious reaction. Your body would jolt, your ears pricking and swiveling. It was embarrassing how obvious it was, but thankfully for you, the worst was over. Your heat had long ended, and you had made it a goal to avoid ever interacting with him again.

Alastor, being the bastard he was, made it as difficult as possible. It seemed that when you told him that nothing would change, he made it his goal to continue to piss you off as much as possible. He would be outside your door when you woke up on the weekend, and would insist on walking you down to breakfast. If he was at the table, he’d pull out your chair, and dare you to deny him in front of Charlie. (How could you? The puppy eyes she gave you whenever you turned to take another chair could kill someone). So you’d sit, and he’d give you the most shit-eating grin every time. It made your skin crawl. 

Alastor would find time to ask you about whatever you were doing. He’d ask insane questions, and he’d follow you around if you tried to ignore him. You’d be talking to Angel, and Alastor would leer over your shoulder, getting impossibly close without actually touching you. You quickly learned how to keep your expression flat, but your conversation partner, often Angel or Husk, would always react, making it harder. 

There was one line, however, that he never crossed again. He never went inside your room. On multiple occasions he’d asked, but you’d firmly said no, (if a “fuck no, die,” was a firm no). He’d take your answer, and mosey on his way. 

And so you suffered under his strange attentions for several weeks. Charlie did her best to give him tasks to keep the two of you separated, when she could, but he was eerily efficient, all in the name of bugging you some more. Vaggie, on multiple occasions, had offered to skewer him with her spear, but you’d denied, the thought of Charlie’s dismay stopping you. 

Angel, nearing his namesake, (not the drug, thank Lucifer), was always close at hand when he wasn’t at work. And one night, seeing how stressed you were, he decided it was time to let loose. 

“C’mon babe! You know you want to-”, Angel crooned, swinging the bottle of liquor in front of your face. Husk huffed in the background, shaking his head lovingly. “Come onnnnnnn. Let loose with me, an’ ol’ Husky!”

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, and shrug your shoulders. “Alright, you bitch. Fine. Pour me one.”

Angel pumps two of his hands in the air, and then just hands you the bottle. You stare flabbergasted at the bottle, and he just laughs. “Oh, you can down that straight! I’ve seen you. Don’t even lie to me right now.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter as you take a swig. You immediately wince. Whatever Angel handed you burns like hell, and you can’t help but take a glance at the label to try and figure out what it is. It’s written in French, and unfortunately tastes like licorice. “God, what is this?”

“It appears to be absinthe, my dear,” Alastor’s voice drawls from above you. You jump, nearly dropping the bottle. Your heart is pounding, and all you can think to do is glare at him. His smile wedges wider, and you want to punch his ugly yellow teeth in. 

Without responding, you whip your head around and glare at Angel. “You gave me fucking absinthe? What’s the fucking — what’s the alcohol percentage?” You peer down at the label, and struggle to find the percentage. Alastor’s claw taps at small numbers underneath the name. 

“74%. Definitely French, although how you got that down here, my friend, I would very much like to know.” Alastor peers down at the bottle with renewed interest, and you can’t help but agree. This is from the mortal plane, and goods from there are rare. Someone had to smuggle it, and there are only so many that have access. You hum, and then the shock hits you.

“YOU GAVE ME THIS? Oh my goodness! Angel! Do you know how much this must cost?!” You rush to set it down on Husk’s bar top, and back away from it. “Dude! Not cool.” Your ears pin back, and you give Angel a light swat. He just keeps laughing, and Husk seems to be joining in.

“Figured you could use the stress relief, kid. It’s all yours.” Husk says it like it means nothing, still cleaning up behind the bar, but your eyes go wide. Husk is so rarely nice like this, and it makes your chest ache. You have friends. You have friends and you absolutely love them. 

Your eyes are on the verge of tearing up, but you swallow it down. “Aw, I love you too!”

Angel laughs, pointing a finger at Husk, and hugs you with his extra arms. “We love you too, doll! Now let’s get drinking!”

You can hear a scoff come from the demon behind you, but you ignore it. Who cares what he thinks? You ask for a shot glass from Husk, grab the bottle, and settle in on one of the couches. Unfortunately, Alastor follows, and settles in the armchair across from you. You settle a glare on him, and then pour yourself a drink. You are going to ignore him, you can do this.

Husk and Angel settle on the other couch, and Angel points at you. “We’re gonna play a game! To spice things up. So, tell me toots, what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?”

You cock your head. “Mortal, or down here?”

Angel’s face scrunches up as he thinks. “Mortal,” he decides. No one has really shared much about their mortal lives, so it’s relatively interesting. 

“Well, if we’re talking about something I survived, then probably dislocating my shoulder. Most intense pain I had ever felt. Boyfriend had grabbed my armed and pulled a little too hard. But, if it’s not surviving that matters, probably how I died.” You don’t think on it too long, the pain flaring in your shoulder as if it had just happened. It had really hurt, too.

Angel leans forward, and even Alastor’s ear prick up. You try to keep from letting your gaze slide to him. “Ooo! How’d you die? C’mon! Tell me. You’ve gotta!”

Angel’s excitement nearly makes your eyes roll out of your head. Of course, he’d be interested, the bastard. 

“I’m not gonna give you all the details,” you start, downing the shot and ignoring his sad ‘aw’. “But I will say, that the other guy got worse. Bet the asshole is drifting around down here.” You can’t help the sour look that passes over your face. You’d been in your late twenties, and some guy went and screwed over everything. 

Alastor cocks his head, clearly intrigued. The look on his face tells you he very much wants to ask a question, but is restraining himself. The ‘why’ itches the back of your skull, but you just feel annoyed with yourself. You keep glancing over at him. 

“Anyway. My turn. Uh. Husk. How much can you drink in five minutes?” Your face burns, and you just want this annoying feeling to go away.

“We don’t have enough to prove it.” His tail lazily twitches behind him, and his face is the epitome of boredom. You and Angel just blink at him. Laughter bursts out of the two of you, and a smile twitches across Husk’s face.

“Wowza! Was not expecting that to be yer answer, babes.” Angel wipes a tear from his eyes, and leans back. “Your turn.”

Husk hums and glances at Alastor before turning back to Angel. “Would you eat a cockroach for fifty bucks?”

“Wha— no? They’re like, basically my cousins babe! That’s fuckin’ gross!”

Your whole body lurches, desperately wanting to laugh, but your brain is halted, trying to process his answer. A glance across from you, and Alastor’s eyebrows are hitched nearly to his hairline. He glances back at you, and you can’t help it. You laugh so hard that it hurts. Your belly aches, and your ribs have a stitch growing in them. Your ears pin back as you try to calm yourself down, but it’s all so absurd; your friends, the asshole in the room. Everything is just so screwed up right now. (If you don’t laugh, maybe you’ll cry, and that’s so much more embarrassing). 

“Sorry,” you start to say, taking a swig directly from the bottle. “Just, thought it was funny.”

All three men in the room are giving you strange looks, and you want to shrink in on yourself. God, could they not look anywhere else?

“Your turn, Angel,” you say, gently prodding him to start the conversation back up.

“Oh! Right. Hey Al, what’s your favorite position?”

You and Husk stiffen, and turn your attention to Alastor. His brows are pressed together, and his fingers twitch.

“What ever could you mean?” You can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused or if he’s annoyed. He’s always so good at shadowing one emotion with another, or maybe you are terrible at reading him, You never could discern between his expressions.

Angel laughs, and waves a hand. “Oh, come on, Al! You know, in bed. What’s your favorite position in bed?”

“Asleep,” Alastor bluntly replies, and it draws a snort from you. His eyes meet yours for a second as his grin grows. You stare at the floor.

“No, no! For sex, Al. What’s your favorite sex position?” 

You cringe, and from the corner of your eye, can see Alastor’s leg twitch, shifting when he’s normally so still. 

When the quiet pause lasts longer than you thought it would, you look up, and Alastor is staring straight at you. His gaze is intense, and his smile is as close to being flat as it could be, (excluding that night. The line of his mouth, the softness in his eyes), and he’s just staring at you. His brows furrow and smoothen, and the corner of his mouth twists. 

“I think I prefer it on all fours.” He cocks his head, and his sharp smile grows wide. His eyes narrow, and you feel like prey, caught in the claws of its demise. Your ears flatten back as he speaks, “I like them on their belly.”

You stand up, setting the bottle down on the coffee table, and point at him. “FUCK YOU!”

Husk and Angel watch on, eyes wide. Angel settles a hand on Husk’s knee, and squeezes.

“Fuck you Alastor! You came to ME! Not the other way around!” You clench your teeth together, trying to force down your shaking. You’re so fed up.

“Wait, what?” You hear Angel mutter, but Alastor is standing up, and it’s all you can focus on.

“Yes, but it was you who needed me. Don’t pretend like you did not like it, my dear! Nothing can change that it happened. There’s no point in pretending it didn’t.” He sounds so calm, and it infuriates you. He doesn’t get to pull this shit with you. You want him down on your level.

“Oh-ho. No. I told you nothing would change. I was EXPLICIT with that fact. I hate your fucking guts. Just because Hell decided your dick was the only one my body wanted, doesn’t change that. You don’t get to just be a goddamn puppy now, constantly begging for my attention! Why are you like that? Stop following me around! I hate you! You hate me! Get the fuck over it!”

His eyes are narrowed, and his ears tipped back. “So presumptuous, ma douce. You think to understand my motives, and you barely understand yours.”

You bare your teeth at him. “You snuck into my room, for my attention. You’re so damn desperate. Is that what this is? You want me to like you that bad, that you’ll fuck me to get it?”

Alastor’s expression screams that he thinks you’re stupid. “Oh, you know nothing, do you, dearest?”

“Fuck you.”

“You already have.”

Angel stands up, setting himself between you. You hadn’t even noticed that the two of you had stepped closer to each other. “Whoa, whoa. Calm down.” He turns to Alastor. “You went to their room? You told me you were leaving for the night!”

Alastor answers without missing a beat. “I lied.”

You want to scream. You pull at your hair, and turn to the side, trying to slow your breathing. This insufferable bastard. 

“I’m going to bed,” you finally huff. You take off towards the stairs. You just want to go to bed. Fuck everything. All of them. He makes your head hurt. 

Halfway to your room, you notice the static. He’s following you. Great.

You turn around, and glare at him. “What do you want?”

His expression is strangely open. His smile is smaller than usual, and he keeps glancing behind him. Why is his behavior always like this? So back and forth. You can never understand him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” He finally says. His brows pinch together, and he opens his mouth, but shuts it again.

“I have. It’s easy.” You lie. It’s such a lie. When you are in bed at night, you can feel the ghost of his hands trailing your thighs, your neck. You can feel him cradle your head as he presses a strange kiss to your shoulder. It’s an ache, but the deep burning hatred is stronger. It burns the ghosts to ash, and it leaves you feeling empty. 

Alastor seems hurt by your words, but almost as if he expected them. “I want to do it again. I want—” He stops himself, hesitating. You just want him to get it over with so you can go to bed. It’s all so exhausting. “I want to touch you again, ma biche. I have been trying to get you to spend time with me, so I could bring it up naturally, but I have not been able to find the time or the words appropriate.” He swallows, and shifts, and you can feel his static swell. “I have never wanted someone before. It’s normally an urge that is easily handled alone, but you are different. I want to know why. And I want to get rid of this feeling. It’s hard to concentrate.” He coughs, and avoids your gaze for a moment, before staring back at you.

You fucking knew it. This asshole. Of course, this is what it is. He just wants his dick wet again, now that he’s had you. You scoff.

“Is that all this is for? Are you kidding me?” You frown at him and shake your head. “This is ridiculous.” You take a deep breath. “Will you leave me alone if we have sex?”

His expression twitches, and for some reason you feel like he is about to lie. “Yes, I suppose I can do that.”

You want to scream. You want to drag him to your room. You want to throw something. You settle on asking, “My room or yours?”

The two of you go to your room. He mutters about not having your scent in his room, and you shrug. You’re closer to yours anyway. 

When you enter the room, you start to strip off your clothing, anger clouding any shame. You can hear his noise of surprise, but make your way to the bed, ignoring him. Down to your bra and underwear, you sit on the bed, looking over him. 

“How are we doing this?” You want to poke at him over his comment from earlier, but decide not to. 

“I believe that I would like you in my lap. I’ve been having… dreams about it.” Alastor struggles to say it while unbuttoning his shirt. You quietly watch while processing his request. You’d have to be facing him. Can you do that? Would looking at his face prevent orgasm, or would it not matter? You hum, and nod.

“Alright. No kissing though.” He acquiesces, and settles onto the edge of the bed, shucking off his pants. His briefs are loose, and black. 

“Where should I be?” His question is asked softly, and it makes you hesitate to be mean. You decide to just focus on the act, and not who he is. It’s better that way, isn’t it? 

“Do you want me riding, or actually in your lap? If you want the former, just lie down. For the latter, sit up, settle against the headboard.” You gesture with your hands, and stand up to remove your undergarments. He eyes your motions as he sits against the headboard. You internally sigh. You really wish that isn’t what he wanted. 

He’s still wearing his briefs when you settle into his lap. His legs are bony, and they press awkwardly against your ass, so you wriggle to get comfortable. Alastor’s hands, thin and graceful, and incredibly sharp at the ends, settle on your hips. (You have to beg your mind not to focus on the fact that you’ll likely have a new set of bruises, overlapping prettily with the last set). 

Alastor’s head is level with yours, the tall bastard, so you turn yours into the crux of his neck, and sigh. Alright, you’re doing this again. You can do it. It doesn’t matter that you really want to punch him. His dick is kind of nice. You can do this. 

You roll your hips against him, starting a gentle rhythm. His fingers squeeze you, and you can tell he’s holding back. His grip is soft, and his thumbs rub back and forth, tracing a lazy pattern into your skin. You take a deep breath in, and immediately regret it. His scent is incredibly strong at his neck. It feels overwhelming, and you have to blink repeatedly to drive the dizziness away. 

The gentle rhythm of your hips eventually makes it clear that he’s getting hard. His thumbs hesitate every couple of thrusts, as if the feeling was too much for him to even lazily move his fingers back and forth. His cock rubbing against you, even through two layers of fabric, is kind of nice, you have to admit. Alastor feels nice, and the warmth of him is enjoyable too. You can’t tell if you are trying to convince yourself, or if that is how you actually feel. You don’t get to find out, because his hands grip down harder.

“Can I rock your hips, dearest?” His voice is rough, and the sudden noise makes you glance at him. His gaze is fuzzy, and he seems unfocused. The look wrecks you; he’s being vulnerable, the bastard, and you can barely look at him. You barely manage a nod, but his sharp grin is your reward.

His tight grip on your hips shifts just a little lower, to the crux of your hips and outer thighs. He presses you down onto his erection, and rocks you against him. The easy way he moves your whole body reminds you of the strength in his lithe body. You can’t help the admiration you feel, although it is quickly drowned out by the rocking of your body.

“Ma bichette, you feel so good,” he whispers. He presses you down rougher, and it feels as if he’s trying to slide into you through the scraps of fabric dividing you. “I want to feel you, dearest. I want to fill you and hold you. Je veux vous faire plaisir, mon cœur. You are so good for me, let me make you feel good.”

You rear up, pressing your hands against his chest as your eyes widen in shock. He absolutely pushed too far. That upsetting feeling from your heat is back. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes again. He is being far too nice, but you love it. You want him to make you feel good, want him to call you nice things. The anger that festers in your belly, that ever present loathing is blanketed by desire for him, and you give in. 

“Okay,” you quietly reply. Alastor’s eyes flutter, and then he is lifting you up on your knees, and attempting to remove your underwear. You assist him, and then sit back to let him remove his own. You settle back in his lap, your naked sex against his cock. The heat lifts a groan from you. You look at him, take in the mess of his hair, the set of his eyes, and you frown. “No kissing,” you remind him. You can’t let him cross that boundary. You’ve only kissed people you loved, and you hate him. Obviously. 

There’s a twitch of his brows, but he assents. His large hands settle back on you. One sits flush against the front of your thighs, and his thumb brushed against the hood of your clit. You gently huff, and roll your hips against him. Alastor’s hips twitch, and he groans.

His touch is perfectly coordinated, his eyes settled on your flushed, and quickly growing wet, sex. His teeth separate, and you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. It doesn’t smell the way you thought it might. 

“You are a sight, my dear. So pretty. I want to fill you, and see how far that blush of yours spreads.” His eyes flick up to your face, briefly, and then he's focused on the tight circles of his thumb on your clit. 

You don’t have the time to think of a response, because he’s pressing harder. White noise fills your ears, and with a single sharp thrust of his hips against yours, you feel your body clenching down on nothing. Your head tilts back, and your hands reach out, trying to grasp onto anything. You find purchase on his shoulders, and dig your blunted claws in, letting out a cry. You can hear Alastor’s grunt, but can barely focus on it. He just keeps circling his thumb. 

“Yes! Ma douce! Cum for me, dearest.” His other hand presses you down against him, and he thrusts up against your wet heat. 

You let out a harsh breath, his name slipping from clenched teeth. “Alastor – please!”

He lifts you, just slightly, your thick slick stringing between the two of you, and he uses one hand to guide his cock. “Just a moment, my doe.”

And finally, his erection is pressing into you, your slick letting him slide in with only just a bit of resistance. When your bodies finally sit flush, you both let out sighs. You forgot just how full he made you feel, and it hadn’t even been terribly long.

You take a deep breath, barely making eye contact with him, (how can you? He’s got this expression that’s nigh on impossible to name), and then you lift your hips. It’s that first drag that nearly knocks you over. You can feel his cock dragging against your velvety insides. Even with how wet you are, the friction is overwhelming. 

Your breath comes out in stutters, and your thighs shake with the effort to not just drop back down on him. Your hands on his shoulders clench, and then you settle back down. His resulting groan makes you clench. You’re still so sensitive from him getting you off first, so you shake with the effort to keep riding him. 

“Dearest,” Alastor says, his hot breath fanning across your face. “Would you like some help?”

You lock your gaze with him and drop on his dick rather harshly, and his eyes flutter. His hands flex, claws lightly grazing your skin. He’s being so careful, and it bothers you. 

“What does ‘help’ look like to you?” You ask, your residual anger tinting your words. Are you not going fast enough for his liking?

His hips thrust up, just enough to spear you further, and you rock your hips in response. The heat, the fullness, it keeps knocking the breath out of you. It’s so unfair. You need him just as off-kilter as you are. (But isn’t he already? Your head is fuzzy. You aren’t thinking straight).

One of his hands reaches up and cradles the back of your head, and then the world is shifting around you. Your thighs are slotted over his hips nicely, and the hand that had been holding your head is propping him up. You’re on your back. (How did he do that so effortlessly? He seems so experienced – it’s a thought that suddenly makes you unhappy). 

“Worry not, dearest. You were spectacular, but I’m losing my marbles.” He rolls his hips against yours, and you clench your eyes closed. It’s overwhelming. The heat is pooling in your navel, and there’s this fuzzy feeling to your hands and feet. You can practically feel his static scattering over the surface of your skin. “Yes, you are very good, mon cœur. I cannot get enough.”

His words make your eyes open, just a touch, and you gaze up at him. His eyes are already searching for yours, and the soft smile he’s giving you – you feel like you’re going to throw up. How could he do this to you? He doesn’t get to be such a dick, then go on and fuck you within an inch of your sanity while praising you. It’s not fair. 

Alastor starts thrusting his hips, his ears bouncing just a little at the effort. He’s on his knees, and the hand on your hip squeezes every other thrust. You can smell the musk the two of you make, and it has you dizzy. It’s a nice smell, but you know it’ll never wash out of your sheets. You might have to just change rooms when all is said and done. 

He suddenly shifts, settling further back on his knees, and both of his hands are lifting you up. “Is this alright, my doe?” He asks as he lifts your knees to his shoulders. 

Your eyes widen. He’s going to hit spots in you that you’ve probably never felt. His cock is already large, but this position is going to ruin you. However, you just can’t say no. You aren’t sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the fact that you’re barely in your own head. With a rough swallow, you nod. 

He pants, and then you’re folded in on yourself, your slit snug against him, thighs cradling his head. His arms framed your head, and his weight pressed down on you. Each breath the two of you took was hard, and they mingled in the space between you. His forehead pressed against yours, and he kept your gaze as he began his rhythm again. 

Your hands could no longer be kept in check. What little of him you could reach was quickly grabbed onto for dear life. You were panting, and every drag of his cock had your walls quivering. 

For a moment all you could hear was the wet sound of your bodies rocking together, and the harsh breaths each of you took, but then you heard it. He was muttering to himself.

“Al- Alastor, what?” You asked quietly. Another harsh thrust of his hips and you moaned, your mind briefly dragged away from the thought. 

“Just singing your praise, dearest.” His left hand lifted just slightly, and his thumb rubbed against your cheek to the rhythm of his snapping of his hips. “You are wonderful. I just adore this with you. You are ever so soft, and tight, my doe.” 

You startle, eyes locked back on him. His smile is crooked, and he looks so genuine. That deep, angry ache is back in your chest, and it nearly clouds the lust and the wonderful sensations he’s flooding you with. 

“Je te veux. Je ne veux personne d'autre que toi. Je veux que tu aies envie de moi. Pourquoi ne le fais-tu pas?” He whispers to you in words you cant understand, but his eyes are fuzzy, and his smile is small, and soft. Alastor cups your face ever so softly, and he rocks his hips roughly against yours.

Suddenly the pace he sets is incredibly fast, and you can feel that tightness building again. You scratch at him, barely able to get air into your lungs. You can’t focus on much more than the deep heat beneath your navel, and the furrow of his brows. (Some small part of you wants to ease it with your fingers). 

His grip on your face tightens a smidgen, and then he rolls his hip and takes his right hand to rub at your clit. His thumb is in tight circles again, and he’s clenching his teeth and all your limbs go tingly and–

Everything is white-hot. There are lightning bolts zipping down your spine, making your back arch. Your mouth is open, but the buzzing in your ears makes it impossible to tell if you’re making any noise.

He’s still moving, but he’s reaching for your face, too. He cups it, his large hands holding you still as his cock continues slamming into you. Alastor is muttering again, but you can only tell from the movement of his lips. His mouth opens, a harsh pant leaving him before his body stills suddenly. His teeth clack shut, and he curls into you, the head of his cock brushing your cervix. You’re still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and can barely comprehend the feeling. It’s nearly too much. 

He’s breathing hard, and he just barely sits back. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. His thumb brushes the skin just underneath your eyes, and there is a wistful smile on his face. He seems so far away, and you can’t comprehend why. Isn’t this what he wanted?

You’re about to ask when he slots his lips over yours. He’s warm, and his lips are soft. It only lasts a moment, and then he’s gone. 

You’re left empty, messy, and alone. 

You sit up in the darkness of your room, glancing around. 

“Alastor?”

I will post on my blog, giving an update. Feel free to check it out if you're wondering what's been so long.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Thalia would break down on her knees wailing once she knows.

I think, if she didn't know who Percy was and she felt at ease around him, that would just make Thalia angry and she'd lash out automatically. Thalia has been through a lot, as Penelope and as Thalia, and I doubt she has any love for Poseidon in either lifetime. Two lifetimes filled with stress is going to leave someone with a short fuse.

So, not only has she allowed this prophecy to come down on her son's shoulders, the boy who was her only reason for living for so long, but she was mean to him. She hurt her baby. She didn't even recognize her own son, what kind of mother is she?

Thalia is also furious at Luke. She doesn't know what the hell Odysseus is playing at, because she knows he's too smart not to realize Kronos is playing him. What is wrong with you!? *Shakes Ody Luke*

Artemis is having a having a weird time. How is she supposed to deal with a Maiden with the instincts of a Mother?

Percy Jackson AU where Luke is reincarnated Odysseus, Thalia is reincarnated Penelope, and Percy is reincarnated Telemachus.

Meeting each other again is the happiest moment of Luke and Thalia's new lives.

Luke and Thalia both loving Annabeth as their daughter, but still mourning the son they think they'll never see again.

Luke, recognizing Percy as Telemachus instantly, is overjoyed and simultaneously devastated because Thalia will never know their son is alive (Luke weeping with joy when Kronos tells him there's a way to save Thalia).

Percy, who's had deja vu regarding the whole missing dad thing his entire life, does NOT recognize Luke as Odysseus and is having a rough time, Athena please help him (Annabeth makes for an acceptable substitute).

Luke, staring horrified at the trident hovering over Percy's head, because not only did he just frame his son for stealing Zeus' lightning bolt, but his son is now the son of his most hated enemy. Luke would happily splay Poseidon's guts out on the rocks again if it meant getting Thalia back. Poseidon who killed his men, who turned him into a monster, stole his son.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Ahhhh yes, the dreaded episode is finally here😭Just so y’all know, this was not easy for me to write LMAO.

So the song I listened to while rereading and editing this chapter is Dynasty by Miia sooooo, do what you want with that;) listen to it while reading if that’s your thing.

Lmao, GOOD LUCK MY BEAUTIES!!

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Boston’s ‘Foreplay/Longtime’ boomed through the Impala’s speakers, the quartet was headed to a local diner. The screech of Baby’s wheels dug into the gravel in front of the dingy diner. “Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?” Dean said to Sam, handing him some cash between his fingers for the food.

“Dude-” Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he snatched the money from his fingers. “-we’re the ones who’re gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions” Sam sassed, making Jo snicker in the backseat, while Y/N groaned heavily, resting her head on Jo’s shoulder. “Times like this, I miss my girl” She groaned, referring to her bike.

“There, there, darling.” Jo pat Y/N’s head playfully. Dean just smiled widely as Sam and Y/N hopped out of their respective seats. “Hey, see if they got any pie!” Dean called out to them, Sam and Y/N shot him annoyed looks as they harshly shut their doors. “Bring me some pie!” He called out again.

“We won’t forget your cake!” Y/N shouted back with a roll of her eyes, slightly offended that Dean really thought she would forget the pie. Forgetting the pie was more Sam’s thing. “PIE!!!” Dean shouted again. “I love me some pie” He muttered to himself, turning up the radio.

Y/N pushed the door open to the diner, allowing Sam in first, the bell above the door jingling as they entered inside. The lighting was soft and dim, the atmosphere of the diner gave the diner an intimate feel. The place was a typical small town diner, booths with vinyl seats, checkered floor, and counters. A couple of customers sat scattered about, talking amongst themselves between bites.

Jo watched Y/N and Sam walk into the diner through the windshield, her attention turned back to Dean. “I’m starving,” She spoke, rubbing her empty stomach. “All this hunting makes a girl hungry.”

“I hear ya” He chuckled a little in agreement, his eyes still glued to the door where Y/N and Sam had disappeared into. “I swear, if they forget the pie, I’m gonna lose it.” He muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair. Jo snorted in amusement, “Like she’d forget your pie” She told him, shaking her head.

“True, but Sam can be a little brain-dead sometimes.” He added with a crooked smirk. “Dude forgets the pie every time we stop at a diner. It’s a good thing Y/N always reminds him.” Jo nodded in agreement, “I swear that girl keeps you guys alive.”

Before Dean could respond to that, the music that was sounding through the Impala began going static. The light in the radio deck started blinking as if something was interfering with the frequency. Dean and Jo furrowed their brows, the elder Winchester reaching over to tap the deck but the music shut off.

The two shared a bewildered look upon noticing the surroundings were eerily silent and the once filled diner with patrons and staff was now empty, no sign of Sam or Y/N whatsoever. They instantly bursted into action without a word, Dean exiting the drivers side with Jo climbing out of the backseat.

Both rushed over to the diner door, the jingling of the bell and the sound of country music filled their ears, their eyes widening at the scene in front of them, one of the patrons was now laying facedown in a booth, a bullet wound to the back of his head, his cap laying near the puddle of blood.

Their senses heightened in alert as they stepped in, their eyes scanning the diner for any sort of threat. The atmosphere was eerily quiet, all noise cut to a halt, except for the faint sound of the country music playing on the old radio behind the counter. Dean and Jo cautiously moved further inside, weapons drawn, prepared for danger.

Dean as he gripped his holstered gun at the back of his jeans and Jo retrieved hers from her jean jacket. “Sam?!” Dean shouted for his brother. “Y/N?!” Jo called out for her sister, slowly padding into the diner, Jo’s eyes were trapped on the blood leaking down the edge of the table where the innocent man laid in the pool of his own bodily fluids.

“Y/N?! Sammy?!” Dean and Jo called out for them but no response was given. Jo slightly jumped back when her eyes landed on the two dead cooks of the diner behind the counter, both with their throats slit. Their calls echoed through the silent diner, only returned with silence.

Jo’s heart was racing a million beats per minute, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin. She was filled with panic, fear and anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach as she followed Dean through the diner. The sight of the two dead cooks made her blood run cold and she fought the urge to gag at the sight.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his heart pounding as he tried to keep his cool, his hand tightening around his silver revolver. He’d been in tense situations way worse than this, and yet…he couldn’t shake the feeling of pure dread crawling up his spine. “Sam!” He yelled again, his voice hoarse and tense. “Y/N?! Where the hell are you?!”

Dean and Jo walked around the back, stumbling upon the back door. The elder Winchester pushed it open, the rain had come down since they entered the diner, there were no tracks out the back, nothing. As if they had just vanished. Upon taking his hand off the door, Dean felt a weirdly familiar dust coat the side of his hand. His eyes widened as he dusted the yellow sand between his fingers.

His heart rate increased rapidly. Jo turned to him in surprise, her eyes locking on to the dust between his fingers. “Sulfur” They both said in unison. The two rushed out of the diner, screaming the names of their loved ones.

“Sam?!”

“Y/N?!”

“Sammy?!”

“Y/N/N?!”

Their footsteps were heavy through the wet gravel of the parking lot. Their voices echoed through the empty parking lot. Dean and Jo’s breaths were coming out in panicked gasps as they tore through the rain, calling for Sam and Y/N over and over.

“SAM!!! Y/N!!!!”

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Meanwhile, Sam and Y/N were both passed out on an old board next to each other in a ghost town. Sam’s hand twitched on top of Y/N’s face, accidentally clocking her one in her cheek. Y/N’s eyes shot open, a soft gasp leaving her lips when she found herself woken up to a world rocking punch from Sam and a blinding headache.

"Ow!" She groaned, bringing a hand to her sensitive cheek where Sam's hand had made contact. Her head was spinning and her cheek throbbed with pain from the accidental punch. She shot a glare over to Sam, who was slowly regaining consciousness as well, groaning heavily. "Sam, you stupid fucking idiot." She mumbled, punching him back in his ribcage.

Sam grunted heavily as eyes shot open, his senses slowly coming back to him. His head was pounding, and his vision was blurry with exhaustion. He groaned loudly, rubbing his head before looking down, finding Y/N on the floor next to him, cradling her cheek. "Jesus" He croaked out, wincing, clutching his side. "What...happened?"

“I don’t know” Y/N said in confusion, still gripping her bruised cheek with one hand and her throbbing hand with the other as Sam pushed himself up, struggling to steady himself. Sam took a minute to steady himself, his feet stumbling to keep himself upright. Once he'd stabilized, he turned to Y/N, concern etched on his face as he noticed her holding her hand and bruised cheek.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice gruff yet genuine. Y/N glared at him slightly, clutching her cheek. “Just peachy” She huffed, putting her hand out for him to help her up. Sam looked guilty as he grabbed Y/N's offered hand and aided her up. "Sorry about that." He apologized genuinely, gesturing to her bruised cheek.

Y/N rubbed the tender area of her cheek, wincing slightly as her fingers grazed over the bruise. "It’s fine, I got you back. But I do feel bad for Jo" Y/N teased with a hint of humor in her voice despite the pain. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes in playful annoyance as they both scanned the deserted town they had woken up in with their eyes. Not a soul in sight.

Panic began to set in for them both as Sam quickly reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. His phone just beeped, indicating there’s no signal. Sam’s fingers trembled as he tried calling for a signal on his phone, but it just continued to display no signal. “Goddammit” He muttered under his breath as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Y/N, where’s your phone?” He asked, his voice growing more desperate in tone. “I left it in the Impala before we went into the diner” She groaned, holding her throbbing forehead. Sam's jaw clenched in frustration and worry. "Dammit!" He exhaled as he began to pace back and forth on the old worn-down board. He tried to think rationally, but panic was taking over.

"We have to find a phone, we need to call Jo and Dean." He spoke, a sense of desperation in his words. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Sammy but-” She flailed her arms around. “We’re in the middle of NOWHERE!”

"Oh, I'm so glad you just gave me that update, genius." He retorted sarcastically, his words a bit sharper than he intended. He paused, taking a moment to try and center himself before continuing.

"We can’t just stand here waiting," he grumbled under his breath, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “We need to find some way to contact them, even if we have to walk twenty miles on foot." He said determined, marching off to investigate.

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words. “Twenty miles in these boots?? Come on!” She exclaimed, begrudgingly following behind her best friend.

-

An hour later, the two still hadn’t found anyone or anything in the town. Going up to old buildings, but most of the doors were locked or barred. That was until they heard the floorboards creaking while outside of an old house.

Sam froze in place as they approached another seemingly abandoned house, their ears perked up as they heard the creaking of the floorboards coming from within. He turned to Y/N and held up a hand, signaling her to stay behind him.

Y/N’s eyes landed on two large wooden ply at the front of the door, she reached down slowly and picked them both up, handing one to Sam. Sam took the board from Y/N, and held it in a defensive position, ready in case they had to fight off an unknown danger.

Sam stood for a moment, listening intently to the sounds coming from within. The footsteps grew louder coming towards them and Y/N instantly aimed to hit the person but pulled back upon recognizing them.

“AHHH!!” Andy screamed, backing up into the old wall, holding up his hands. Sam’s eyes widened, “Andy?!” He spoke, lowering the 2x4 in his hand. “Sam. Y/N.” Andy gasped. “What are you two doing here?!” He exclaimed, fully panicked. “We don’t know!” Y/N said back in equal panic and confusion, lowering her wood. “What am I doing here?!” Andy exclaimed again.

“We don’t know. Just-” Sam tried to tell him to calm down but Andy cut him off. “Where are we?!” Andy panicked, Sam and Y/N shared an exasperated look before both tossing their woods aside. “Andy, honey, look. Calm down” Y/N tried to say soothingly but it didn’t seem to help him whatsoever.

“I-I can’t calm down. I have just woke up in fucking Frontierland” Andy’s voice went up an octave as he hyperventilated. “Okay, okay. What’s the last thing you remember?” Sam asked him calmly. Andy panted as he placed his hand to his forehead, “Honestly. My fourth bong-load” Andy panted.

Y/N let out a little snort of amusement, earning a side eye and a nudge to the ribs by Sam. She winced slightly, shooting him a glare as she rubbed her rib while Andy explained. “It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell, like, uh-” Sam and Y/N shared a knowing look at this.

“Like sulfur?” She cut him Off. “How did you know that?” Andy gasped. “Dean.” Sam said as he gulped. “Your brother, is he here?” Andy asked hopefully. Y/N’s heart dropped as Sam shook his head. “We don’t know where he is” Y/N’s tone dropped as she toyed with her charm bracelet. “We don’t know if he’s-” Sam’s heart panged at the thought of something happening to Dean or Jo.

A woman screaming in the distance made their heads snap in the direction of the sound. The three instantly began rushing towards the sound of a woman screaming and banging on a wooden crate. “Help me, please!! I’m locked in here!!” The woman’s cries echoed. “Hello?!” Y/N shouted. They stumbled upon the crate, which was locked from the outside.

“Help!! Help me!!!” The woman cried, banging on the door. “Okay, okay. We’re here. We’re gonna get you out, alright?! Just hold on a second!” Sam assured the woman as y/n picked up a stone from the ground and began hitting the lock. After a few strikes, the lock broke. Y/N quickly discarded the rock as Sam took the lock off.

“Alright, one second!” Sam shouted, pulling the door open to reveal Ava. Sam and Y/N’s mouths dropped, “Ava?!” Y/N gasped, “Oh my god, Sam! Y/N!!” Ava sobbed exasperatedly, her tone going up an octave, rushing into Y/N’s arms. The psychic instantly wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in her hair.

Sam let out a breath of relief upon seeing Ava alive and well. Her disappearance haunted him and y/n for months. Andy stood there awkwardly as the two women embraced. “I guess you know each other” He said awkwardly as Ava pulled away from y/n. “Yeah” Sam nodded, only to let out a low, “Oof” as Ava threw herself into his arm.

“How did you-? I mean- how did you-” Ava stuttered, trying to talk. “Ava, have you been here this whole time?” Sam asked her, bewildered. “What whole time? I just woke up in there like half an hour ago!” Ava exclaimed. “Well, you’ve been gone for months. Sam, Dean and I have been looking everywhere for you” Y/N told her, Ava shook her head.

“Okay, that's impossible, because I saw you guys two days ago” Ava scoffed, Sam and Y/N looked at her as if she had grown two heads. “You didn’t, I’m sorry” Sam shook his head. Ava’s face dropped, “But that makes no sense. It’s-” She began sobbing again. “Oh, my God!” She gasped. “My fiancé, Brady, if I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!”

Sam and Y/N shared a sideways look as Ava sobbed hysterically, a lump growing in Y/N’s throat. “Well-” Sam’s words got caught in his throat. “Oh-” Ava’s face contorted to confusion when her eyes landed on Andy. “Hey. Andy. Also freaking out” Andy awkwardly introduced himself. “Okay. What’s happening?!” Ava screamed.

Y/N ran a hand over her face, sighing heavily. “I don’t know. I don’t really know yet” Sam sighed. A thought popped up in Y/N’s head. “But I know one thing” Y/N began, putting a finger up. “I know what the four of us have in common.” She stated, Sam nodded in agreement. “Hello? Is anybody there?” The sound of an unfamiliar voice of a man in the distance made all their heads snap in the same direction.

“Maybe more than four” Sam muttered, he and y/n nodded in unison before following the sound of the man’s voice.

-

The four of them walked through the abandoned town, looking for the source of the voice. They rounded a corner and heard the banging of something, they picked up their pace towards the sound.

They stood in front of a small shop, the sound of something banging against wood echoed from inside. “Help! Somebody, anybody” The man’s voice called out desperately.

“Hello?! Hey!” Sam shouted, stumbling upon an African American man in an army uniform and a blonde woman, all seemingly around their age. “Hey, you guys alright?” Y/N asked. “I think so.” The man responded. “I’m Y/N. This is Sam” Y/N introduced them both, gesturing to Sam.

“I’m Jake.” Jake introduced himself. “Lily” Lily, the blonde woman who looked scared, introduced herself. “Are there any more of you?” Sam asked, looking behind them. “No” Jake shook his head. “How did we even get here? A minute ago I was in San Diego” Lily said. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan” Jake countered, making everyone’s jaws drop.

“Let me take a wild guess. You two are both 23?” Y/N asked them. Their eyes widened in disbelief, “Well, we all are. And we all have abilities” Sam added. “What?” Jake asked, clenching his jaw. “It started a little over a year ago, when you found out you can do things. Things you didn’t think were possible” Sam continued. Everyone fell silent.

“Me and Sam have visions. We see things before they happen.” Y/N told them. “Yeah, me too,” Ava muttered. “And I’m telekinetic. I can move things with my mind, like-” Y/N put her right hand out, focusing her energy on the dried dead leaves on the ground. Her eyes flashed white as her veins on her hand ignited to a light shade of aqua blue.

The leaves and small twigs started trembling and floated up a few inches from the ground. The four looked on in awe as Y/N made the sticks fly through the air. Y/N gritted her teeth as she concentrated, causing the dry leaves to fly into the air into a swirling tornado before dropping back down with a heavy thud.

“Okay. That’s cool” Jake muttered, his tone laced with shock. “Yeah, shit took a lot of practice.” Y/N snorted. “Well, that makes my ability to put thoughts into people's heads and make them do stuff seem pretty lame” Andy huffed, Y/N chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Oh, but don’t worry. I don’t think it works on you guys.” Andy added as he walked up the porch.

Y/N’s eyes scanned Jake as Andy spoke, a nagging thought at the back of her head was telling her that she knew him from somewhere but she couldn’t place exactly where. “Oh, but get this, um, I’ve been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation, right? So now, it’s not just thought I can beam out but images too. Like anything I want. It’s like, bam! People, they see it” Andy exclaimed enthusiastically.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head at him. Sam did the same thing, “This one guy I know, total dick. I- i used it on him” Andy laughed as he explained, pointing to his head. “Gay porn, all hours of the day” Andy told them, everyone looked horrified while Y/N bursted out laughing. “It’s just like- you should’ve seen the look on his face” Andy cackled.

Y/N struggled to catch her breath, her sides were aching from laughing so hard. Even Sam cracked a smile at the story, shaking his head, holding back a snort. Meanwhile everyone else was silent, looking at Andy unamused. “Oh, okay…tough crowd” Andy muttered. “So you go, ‘Simon says give me your wallet’ and they do?” Lily asked bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You two have visions? And you can make fucking tornados out of leaves with your mind? That’s great! I’d kill for something like that!” Y/N’s smile faded at the tone of Lily’s voice, sensing the resentment. “Hey. Watch the tone” She warned, an edge to her voice. Everyone fell silent, the air was tense.

Sam stepped in, not wanting Y/N to shank the chick before they could figure out what’s going on. “Lily, listen. It’s okay” Sam tried to calm her down. “No, it’s not! I touch people, their hearts stop” Lily growled. Everyone’s faces dropped and Y/N now felt bad for getting defensive. “I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So fuck you. I just wanna go home” The bitterness in Lily’s tone was evident.

“And what, we don’t?” Jake chimed in. “You know what, don’t talk to me like that-” Lily turned back to give Jake a piece of her mind. “Hey, guys. Come on, whether we like it or not, we’re all here. And so we all have to deal with this” Sam cut her off. “Who brought us here?” Andy asked. Sam and Y/N shared a horrified look, “It’s less of a who. It’s more of a what” Y/N said lowly.

“What does that mean?” Ava asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s- uh-” Sam gulped, y/n was still fiddling with her charm bracelet on her wrist. “It’s a demon,” Sam finally revealed. Lily rolled her eyes, scoffing in disbelief as the place fell silent again.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Dean and Jo found themselves back in South Dakota after Sam and Y/N’s sudden disappearance. Upon knowing it’s somehow connected to a demon, they instantly went to Bobby for help. Now in the salvage yard, Bobby had a map pressed against Baby’s hood as Dean and Jo leaned down to get a look of the map. “This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month” Bobby told them.

The duo shot Bobby a questioning look, “You’re joking right? There’s nothing here” Dean scoffed. “Exactly” Bobby shrugged. Their blood pressure skyrocketed. “Come on. There’s gotta be something. I mean, what about the normal, low level stuff?!” Jo exclaimed, “You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing”

“That’s what I’m telling you, idjits. There’s nothing. It’s completely quiet” Bobby pointed out. “Well how are we supposed to look for Sam and Y/N?! What do we just close our eyes and point?!” Dean’s frustration boiled over as he ran a hand over his face. Jo’s phone rang, she eagerly took it out of her pocket, hoping it was Sam or Y/N. Disappointment washed over her when it was just Ash.

“Ash, what do you got?” Jo asked after pressing the answer button, putting the phone on speaker. “Okay, listen, it’s a big negatory on Sam and Cupcake” Ash answered, Dean tried to ignore the burning feeling of agony when Ash called Y/N ‘cupcake’. “Come on, man. You gotta give us something! We’re looking at a 3000-mile haystack here!” Dean bellowed through the speaker.

��Listen, guys, I did find something,” Ash whispered into the phone. “Well, what?” Jo urged him to say, but Ash sounded nervous. “I can’t talk over this line, Jojo.” Ash’s voice cracked. Dean was close to punching a hole in Bobby’s windshield while Jo rolled her eyes. “Come on, we don’t have time for this!” Jo yelled, running a hand through her hair.

“Make time! Okay, because this-…What’s up? What’s going on?” Ash’s words stopped when he saw a Hunter near him. When the hunter walked away, “Not only does this almost definitely help you find Sam and Cupcake, this is…no…It’s huge. So, get here. Now” With the last deathly serious words from Ash, the line went dead.

Jo stared wide eyed at the phone as Dean ran his hand over his face, wiping away the stress sweat beading his forehead. “He can’t be serious,” Dean grumbled. “He is, he definitely is. Ash wouldn’t just fuck around, especially not like this” Jo murmured. Dean sighed heavily, nodding begrudgingly. “I guess we’re going to the Roadhouse. Come on” Dean urged them, hopping into the Impala.

Jo went to follow behind Dean but Bobby stopped her, “Jo” She spun around to face Bobby, “Yeah?” She looked at him in confusion. Bobby reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The keys to Quinn. “Take Quinn, I’ll take my truck. Y/N’s gonna want her bike when we get her back”

Jo gave him a smile, “Thanks” Jo took the keys and hopped into Y/N’s beloved bike, snapping her helmet on. The engine roared to life as it started in the salvage yard, followed shortly by Baby’s engine revving and then the rumbling of Bobby’s truck engine. The three took off down the road, heading for the Roadhouse.

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

“So we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?!” Jake shouted in disbelief at Sam and Y/N, they gave them the rundown of everything and now everyone was freaking out while Lily was a nervous wreck, biting her nails. “When you put it like that-“

“And- and we’ve been picked?” Jake cut Sam off again. “Yes.” Y/N groaned, playing with her lighter in her thumb. Flicking the flame on and off, it was the only way to stop her from twiddling with her bracelet. Jake was getting on her nerves for some reason and she couldn’t really stand the dude, yet, she couldn’t figure out why, or where she knew him from.

“Why us?” Jake asked again. “We’re not sure. Okay, but look, I just know-” Sam tried to reason with everyone. “Sam. I’m sorry, psychos and spoon bending is one thing. But demons?” Ava interrupted him. Her tone seemed overly croaked, Y/N took note of that. “Look, we know it sounds crazy!” Y/N tried to aid Sam's defense, stuffing her lighter in her pocket. “It doesn’t just sound it” Jake cut her off.

“I don’t really care what you think, okay?!” Y/N snapped. “If we’re all gathered here that means something is starting and that we gotta-!” Jake interrupted her again, “The only thing I gotta do is stay away from wack jobs, okay? I’ve heard enough. I’m better off on my own.” Jake shot back, getting up in her face. Sam’s eye twitched, using his left arm to shield Y/N.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Cool it, man” Sam warned, putting his hand up on Jake’s chest to hold him back as he moved between the two. Jake’s eyes flicked from Y/N to Sam before he took a step back, clenching his jaw before walking away. “Jake. Hold on. Jake!” Sam called out for him but he kept walking.

The thunder in the sky rumbled as the place felt heavy, Y/N’s chest felt heavy as a burning feeling at the back of her neck raised. She gasped, a wince leaving her mouth as she clutched the back of her neck. The last time she felt this, it was nothing good. It only meant one thing.

"Y/N?" Sam's worried tone filled her ears but she was too focused on the burning feeling behind her neck. It felt like thousands of needles stabbing through her skin. “Demon” Everyone’s eyes widened at Y/N’s indication, especially Ava’s. “Jake” Sam muttered before rushing behind Jake. The entire group followed behind him.

Sam eventually made it to a house he saw Jake go into to see a demon in the form of a little girl getting ready to maul Jake. He instantly burst into action, grabbing an iron poker near the door, driving it straight through the demon. It disapparated into a cloud of black smoke, causing everyone to gasp and duck as the cloud bellowed through the door and away.

Jake looked absolutely terrified at what he had just witnessed, “Just so you know. That was a demon” Y/N sassed a wide eyed Jake who was struggling to catch his breath.

-

“Now that thing, I’m not sure, but I think it was an Acheri. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl” Sam explained, the group of five six now outside the house Jake was nearly killed in. “Still doesn’t tell us where we are,” Y/N muttered. “Andy, you with us or what?” Sam asked. “Give me a minute. I’m still working through ‘demons are real’” Andy said, his voice going up an octave.

-

A few hours later, the group were standing near a large bell in town square. Y/N immediately recognized the bell, nudging Sam gently, “Look familiar?” She whispered, Sam’s eyes snapped over to the bell. His mouth slightly hanging open, “I think I know where we are now. Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled” Sam told the group.

“Swell. Good to know we’re somewhere so historical” Ava said sarcastically. “Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?” Lily asked, terrified. “We’re wondering the same thing” Y/N answered. Lily scoffed, biting her nails. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head before turning away.

“Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge” She began walking away. “Wait, hold on, Lily. The only way out is through miles of woods” Y/N stopped her. “Beats hanging out with demons!” Lily bit back. Y/N clenched her jaw, internally rolled her eyes. “Lily, look, we don’t know what’s going on yet. I mean, we don’t even know how many of them are out there right now” Sam tried to reason.

“Yeah he’s right. We should just-” Jake added in but Lily snapped. “Don’t say we! I’m not part of we. I have nothing in common with any of you!” She screamed. “Okay, look, look. I know that-” Y/N attempted to be tender with her. “You don’t know anything! I-” Lily shouted, her words dying in her throat, the look of despair and grief etched on her face. “I accidentally touched my girlfriend”

Sympathy filled Sam and Y/N, the younger Winchester felt a bit of relation to what Lily experienced due to the events two years prior. The place fell silent again, the only sound audible was the rumbling of thunder. “I’m sorry” Sam apologized, “Whatever. I feel like I’m in a nightmare and it just keeps getting worse and worse” Lily’s face remained stoic but her voice was filled with pain.

“I’ve lost people too. I have a brother out there right now and my gir- um- friend. They could be dead for all we know” Sam’s voice dropped as he spoke. Y/N’s heart sank as Sam mentioned Dean and the thought of him potentially being dead. Especially Jo, she felt like bursting into tears on the spot at the image in her head.

She tried to push the thought out of her head but she was struggling, they’d already lost so much and she couldn’t imagine losing any more. Clearing her throat, she looked at Sam. “We’re all in bad shape.” She spoke softly, “But I’m telling you. We’re telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together” She said gently, offering Lily her hand.

Lily and Y/N locked eyes, neither breaking contact as everyone waited to see if Lily would take Y/N’s hand. After what felt like a century, Lily sighed heavily before reluctantly, taking Y/N’s hand and squeezing it. “Fine.” Lily agreed.

-

“We’re looking for iron, silver, salt, any kind of weapon” Sam instructed the four. “Salt is a weapon?” Jake gaped. “It’s a brave new world” Y/N snorted. “Well, hopefully there’s food in your world because I’m fucking starving.” Andy grumbled as they all walked up the porch to an old house, preparing to loot it.

“Amen brother.” Y/N snorted in agreement.

____________________________________________

CE, Nebraska

The Impala, Harley and Bobby’s truck pulled into the Roadhouse’s parking lot to see the once standing hunters bar, now in rubble, burnt to the ground. “What the hell?” Dean muttered, his expression turning to a frown. Quinn’s engine came to a halt when Jo saw her former home in rubble, she immediately took the bike off, practically ripping the helmet off of her head.

“No. No. No. No. No!” Jo yelled out in disbelief, she ran over to the crumbled building as Dean and Bobby hopped out of the Impala. “Jo, no!” Dean tried to stop her from going closer. But it was too late.

Jo pushed past the wooden barrier and began sifting through the rubble. She found scraps of leather and torn flannel, her mother’s flannel. Her heart dropped and she felt nauseous. “Oh my God” Bobby muttered, he felt sick to his stomach as he stared down at the charred bodies of fellow hunters.

The worst came to Jo’s mind, the possibility that her mother and Ash were inhere with all of the dead hunters. Jo fell to her knees in the middle of the rubble, her head grew fuzzy as her world began to spin. “Mom?! Ash!? MOMMY?!” Painful sobs tore from her throat, the huntress clutched her stomach, the grief overwhelming her.

First Sam and Y/N disappear, and now the Roadhouse, the only place she had ever called home, was burnt to a crisp with so many loved ones inside. Dean and Bobby exchanged a look, they were at a loss for what to do or even how to make this situation any better. Jo was breaking to pieces in front of them.

“Jo-“ Dean started to speak only to get interrupted by Jo’s sharp tone. “Don’t.” She snapped, “Just- don’t.” Jo looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, hurt etched across her face. “Just help me look f-“ Her words died in her throat as she began digging through the rubble, hoping beyond hope that there was a possibility her mother and Ash survived.

With heavy hearts and without a word, the two men obliged and began searching the pile of wood and rubble with Jo. It only made the whole situation more dire for both of them as each time they moved a piece, the bodies of a hunter or two became exposed. They could only imagine how Jo felt at that moment.

Upon digging up the rubble, Dean’s eyes landed on the charred arm with a familiar watch on. It was Ash. Jo’s head snapped over to Dean when she heard him say. “Oh, Ash. dammit it.” Her tear stricken eyes wide. “No” Jo whispered, her heart clenching in his chest. Bobby was looking at Ash’s watch, his breath hitched. “Fuck” Bobby muttered quietly.

Jo looked back down at the ground, her body numb as Bobby and Dean dug up Ash’s motionless body. It was a sickening sight. She covered her mouth with her hand, tears streaming down her face again. The fact that the last conversation that had over the phone was them yelling at each other tore into her heart.

She pushed herself up from her knees and slowly padded over to them, sinking back onto her knees in-front of one of her last remaining pieces of family. Now deceased. Bobby put a large calloused hand on her shoulder as Dean and Jo looked down at Ash’s body, no one was exactly sure what to say.

There was no consolation for losing someone. It was a feeling they all could relate to. “Jo, I’m so sorry” Bobby’s voice was gruff, the older man’s grief was evident in his voice. “This isn’t fair” She sobbed out, her chin quivering.

“I know. I know” Bobby was at a loss for words again, he had never seen Jo cry like this, not even after her father died, she was more distant when Bill died. It’s as if everything that was trapped in her was now coming out. It was absolutely heart-wrenching.

Dean placed his hand on Jo’s shoulder, rubbing it slowly. He didn’t say anything. Nothing was going to make anything better than it was in that moment so he didn’t even bother. “Mom. We have to find my mom” Jo croaked out, her head still bowed as she clutched onto Ash’s warm charred hand. “She’s not here, kiddo,” Bobby stated.

Jo’s head lifted up, her eyes wide, “What?” It was a quiet sound but it was so loud and filled with hope.

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Sam and Y/N were in one room, rummaging through the cabinets for any weapons. “You got your butterfly knife?” Sam asked Y/N. She smirked, reaching into her boot. “You know it” She chuckled, flicking the knife open. “No bastard is taking it away from me this time”

Sam nodded in approval, admiring the knife that Y/N had a death grip on. He wasn’t surprised, she’d always liked knives, hell, he’s pretty sure the only reason she loved it so much is because Dean got it for her.

Ava’s groaning behind them caught their attention, “Hey. You alright, hun?” Y/N asked her softly as the fellow female psychic clutched her forehead. “Yeah. I’m just-…I don’t know. A little dizzy” Ava croaked, holding her head, she seemed to be in pain but to Y/N it looked like she was concentrating on something. Similar to the way Y/N was whenever she manifested her telekinetic abilities.

Sam’s brows furrowed in concern, “Are you sure it’s not some kind of-” Ava cut him off. “What? Some kind of freaky vision thing?” Ava scoffed. “No. More like, I’d kill for a sandwich. I haven’t eaten since-…Well, who knows” She sighed, this made the duo feel sympathetic towards her. “No, it’s- don’t worry. I’m fine, except for every single thing that’s happening” She assured them with a faux smile of enthusiasm.

Y/N and Sam chuckled awkwardly at her tone., “Hey guys, I found something!” Andy called out to them from downstairs. The three made their way down the dirty steps to see Andy next to Jake, holding up two bags with a wide grin. “Salt” Andy almost giggled proudly. “That’s great, Andy. Now we all can s-” Sam’s words died in his throat when he realized someone was missing.

“Where’s Lily?” He asked urgently. Everyone’s faces dropped. “Lily?!” Y/N called out for her in the house but there was no response. “LILY?!” Sam bellowed, his throat rasping, sounding quite similar to Dean. It surprised Y/N and made her flinch slightly along with Ava. Y/N hissed as the heat behind her neck raised and pricked at her skin, this alerted Sam.

The sound of a little girl giggling and Y/N’s sensory going off indicated that there were demons around. The group rushed outside to see Lily hanging from the windmill across the house, dead. “Oh my, God” Ava gasped theratically, placing a hand over her mouth in faux disgust. Y/N’s heart sank at the sight of the broken girl hanging off of the windmill like an animal.

“Okay, that’s officially- Sam! Y/N! She’s dead, she’s dead!” Ava sobbed. “You two said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen. That’s…killed!” She continued to ramble as everyone had their eyes locked on Lily’s corpse. “Okay, no. We have to get out of here” Ava insisted, trying to push past Sam. “Stop” He held her back. “Yeah, I second that emotion” Andy murmured.

“Not sure that’s an option” Jake said, shaking his head. “What?!” Ava exclaimed. “Lily was trying to leave. The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy.” Y/N explained. “We gotta gear up for the next attack” Sam said determinedly. “Oh, gear up?” Ava scoffed. “Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Okay, well, I’m not a soldier. I can’t do that!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Ava’s words, “Look, if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to!” She snapped at Ava who had tears welling up in her eyes, but Ava didn’t look genuinely terrified. “Let’s go,” Sam pointed to the house, instructing everyone to go inside. Ava was first to run in, whimpering as she entered. “I’ll get her down,” Jake said.

Y/N sighed heavily, her mind running on Dean and Jo. “You know, I’m just thinking about how much Dean and Jo would help right now” Y/N said to Sam and Andy, stuffing her hands in her leather jacket’s pocket. “Yeah, I’d give my arm for a working phone” Sam agreed, “You know, you make not need one” Andy suddenly said, this made their heads snap over to him.

“I, uh, I’ve never tried it long distance before. But, do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Like something he touched?” Andy asked them, Sam frowned, shaking his head. Y/N patted her pockets down, frowning and she came up with nothing. “No, nothing” Y/N sighed. A flicker of frustration passed behind Sam’s eyes, he rubbed his palm against his face.

A thought popped into Y/N’s head, “I’m wearing some of his shirts, would that work?” She asked Andy. Andy nodded, “Yeah, that might work” He murmured. Y/N swiftly pulled off her leather jacket, revealing one of Dean’s flannels that he’d let her borrow a few nights prior paired with his Led Zeppelin shirt she claimed as her own weeks ago.

Y/N shoved the leather jacket in Sam’s hands, “Hold this” She told him. He took it without a word, his eyes locked on the flannel that was draped across her arms. Y/N handed it to Andy, who took it and held the sleeve in his hands, closing his eyes to concentrate.

____________________________________________

CE, Nebraska

“This is-” Bobby murmured as he, Jo and Dean walked off of the burnt to crisp Roadhouse’s rubble. “What the hell did Ash know? We got know clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now how the fuck are we gonna find Sam and Y/N!?” Dean shouted in frustration as they headed back to their vehicles.

“And we got no way of knowing where my mom is or if-” Jo’s voice cracked, her nostrils flaring as fresh tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her mascara smudged from earlier. “Jo, hey. I know it’s scary-” Bobby started. “Scared?” Jo’s voice was strained and hoarse, she was barely speaking above a whisper.

“Yeah. I’m scared, you know why? Cause I don’t know if my mom’s dead or alive. And if Sam and Y/N are okay?” She snapped. Dean stopped and looked back at her, his eyes locking on hers, which were now bloodshot. “Hey, we will find them. And your mom” He tried to comfort her.

Dean suddenly buckled over, clutching his head as a splitting migraine shot through his head. “Dean?” Bobby and Jo called out for him in unison as he grunted, “Fuck!” Dean groaned, clutching into Baby’s hood. “You alright, dude?” Jo asked, rushing over to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean groaned again against the throbbing pain shooting through his head.

“Yeah” He hissed, pushing himself to a standing position, he pushed his hair back away from his forehead. The migraine intensified. Then suddenly he saw an image of a bell appear in his head. “What was that?” Jo asked, confused. “I don’t know. Headache” Dean gritted his teeth in pain as Jo placed the back of his hand to his forehead.

“You get headaches like that a lot?” Bobby asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.” Dean gasped out as Jo took her hand off of his forehead, his chest was heaving as he struggled for breath. “Must be the stress” He said breathlessly with a weak chuckle and wiping his forehead. “I could’ve sworn I saw something”

Bobby and Jo’s brows skyrocketed, a look of recognition took over Bobby’s face. “What do you mean, like- like a vision? Like what Sam and Y/N get?” Bobby asked. “What?! No!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m just saying” Bobby put his hands up in surrender. “Come on, I’m not some psychic. I don’t have that ESP shit” Right after those words left Dean’s mouth, he buckled over in pain again.

Clutching his forehead. “Dean!” Bobby and Jo exclaimed as Dean almost fell to the ground. Bobby rushed over to his side of the Impala, helping Jo in keeping him on his feet. The image of the bell again with Sam and Y/N flashed through his head again, Dean was practically clutching his pearls as he grunted from the shooting migraine.

Dean Winchester never felt pain like that in his life, and to be quite Frank, if this is what y/n and Sam felt when they had visions. He felt sorry for them for having to go through this pain. Now he gets why y/n was always so snappy whenever she had her own migraines. They must’ve been worse than Sam’s.

“Are you okay?! What was that, you see something again?” Jo exclaimed as he stood back up after a few moments, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “You with us?” Bobby exclaimed in worry. “Yeah, I think so,” Dean groaned. “I saw Y/N and Sam. I saw them, guys” Dean tried to explain, the migraine still pounding in his head. “It was a vision” Jo murmured in shock.

“Yeah. I don’t know how. But, yeah. Ugh” Dean huffed, breathing heavily as he steadied himself. “That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels” Dean weakly chuckled. “What else did you see?” Bobby asked urgently. “Uh….There was a bell” Dean answered. “What kind of bell?” Jo asked, narrowing her eyes. “Uh, like a b-big bell with…uh…some kind of engraving on it, I don’t know,” Dean told them.

Bobby and Jo shared an alarmed look, “Engraving? Was it a tree? Like an oak tree” Bobby asked. Dean’s brows furrowed at them, “Yeah, exactly.” He confirmed. Jo and Bobby exchanged a knowing and alarmed look. “I know where they are”

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Sam, Y/N and Jake were now chipping away at a steel tank with rocks, trying to break away any bars from it to use as weapons. Jake got tired and suddenly ripped out one of the bars, shocking both Sam and Y/N. “Awesome” Y/N muttered in awe, now wishing she had that ability. Sam’s brows raised in Jake's direction.

The army vet cleared his throat, “I’m- I’m not Superman or anything. It’s no big deal” He chuckled, shooting Y/N a sly wink. “You were in Afghanistan when this started?” Y/N asked curiously, a coy smile playing on her face. Her vibe with Jake was still off, but she figured you catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar.

So being sweet was her go to in order to find out how and where she knew Jake from. “Yeah, I started getting headaches. And then, uh…there was this accident. This guy flipped his vehicle on a bad road. He got pinned underneath. I lifted it off him like it was nothing” Jake explained as Sam and Y/N listened. “Everybody said it was a fluke adrenaline thing-”

“But then you did it again, right?” Sam asked knowingly, “Bench press 800 pounds stone-cold calm” Jake snorted. Sam and Y/N chuckled at this, “I never told anymore of course. It’s just too crazy” Jake admitted, cracking a smile. “Yeah, but crazy’s relative” Sam mused, nudging Y/N in her arm. “I’m starting to get that,” Jake said.

“Yeah” Y/N sighed, the two shared a lingering eye contact, a small smile gracing Y/N’s face. Jake returned the smile. There was an intimate silence between the three as they continued to chip away at the tank. The sound of rocks against metal echoed in the empty room, a sign that they were making some solid progress.

“By the way. I, uh- I appreciate what you two are doing here” Jake said honestly. “What are we doing?” Y/N asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Keeping calm. Keeping them calm.” Jake answered, referring to the other psychics. “Especially considering how freaked to hell you guys really are” Jake called them out.

Sam and Y/N shared a knowing look, knowing that they couldn't hide their growing fear from him. “Is it that obvious?” She questioned jokingly, although the question was somewhat serious. “Yeah” Jake chuckled.

“I’ve been in some deep shit before myself, sweetheart. I know the look” Jake said seriously to them. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as his words. She shook it off and pushed her focus back on the task at hand.

But Sam opened up, “You wanna know the truth? I got this brother, right? He’s always saying how he’s gonna watch out for me, watch out for y/n. Watch out for the both of us, how everything’s gonna be okay, kind of like I’m telling them” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat.

Tears pricked the corners of Y/N’s eyes, her heart ached at the mention of Dean. Knowing that he’d be beating himself up and freaking out for her and Sam as well. “Yeah?” Jake hummed. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t know if I believe it this time,” Sam confessed. Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him into her side, resting her head against her his shoulder.

Jake nodded at Sam, understanding and sympathising with him. “What do you mean ‘you don’t believe it’?” The army veteran asked. A beat of silence passed as the two siblings shared a look. “I mean, the size of what’s coming…it’s bigger than anyone’s ever seen. I mean, it’s gonna get bad. And I- I don’t know if-” Sam stammered, trying not to cry as Y/N stroked his back comfortingly.

“If you’re gonna make it?” Jake cut in. “Doesn’t matter if we believe. Only matters that they do.” Jake stated firmly. Sam’s head went to the ground, “Y-yeah” He agreed. Y/N kept patting and rubbing his back in comfort, she tried to keep her tears from streaming down her face as she bit her quivering bottom lip.

The three continued to chip away at the tank in an awkward silence as the room echoed with the loud sound of rocks smacking against metal.

-

The group were lining the windows and doors with salt, Sam and Y/N were tired from all the hammering so they sat at a table in comfortable silence. “You know, my horoscope said I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed” Ava chuckled dryly as she rested the empty salt bag next to Y/N. The two hunters sighed deeply.

“How are you guys doing? Holding up?” Ava asked them softly. The two nodded, “I’m okay” Sam assured her. “Me too” Y/N responded. “What about you, hun?” She asked Ava. “Not so okay.” Ava admitted, chucking dryly. “Why us, guys? What did we do to deserve this?” Ava asked them, tears pricking at her eyes. “Just lucky I guess,” Sam scoffed.

“Wasn't for bad luck, wouldn’t have no luck at all” Ava snorted as thunder rumbled outside. “I just can’t wait for all this to be over so I can just pretend it never happened.” Ava sighed, looking up to the ceiling. “I just wanna curl up with Brady and watch bad TV” she smiled, Sam and Y/N’s hearts dropped at this. They forgot they hadn’t mentioned that Brady was dead.

Their expressions changed and Ava seemed to notice, “What is it?” She asked them. But they both shook their heads. “Sam, Y/N” Ava pressed. “Do you guys…know something that I don’t?” She asked. Their hearts ached for her, but the words were on the tip of their tongue. They wanted to break the news to her gently, but there was no easy way to say it. Sam and Y/N shared a look, neither one of them wanted to have this conversation with Ava.

“Look, Ava. I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have to tell you this” Sam began sorrowfully. “Tell me what?” Ava’s voice dropped. Y/N sighed, taking Ava’s hand into hers. “When the demon…broke into your house to take you…your fiancé didn’t make it, I’m sorry” Y/N finally revealed. Ava’s face dropped in shock, her eyes widened in horror as she stared at them.

“No, it’s-?” She whispered, she seemed to be in a state of denial of the news. Ava threw herself into Sam and Y/N’s arms, sobbing painfully. Y/N and Sam held her as she sobbed into their shoulders, they comforted her, rubbing her back as she got it all out.

-

It was getting late, everyone was tired. Jake was standing guard while Andy was fast asleep on a table and Ava looked distant. Sam was trying to get some shut eye, his head resting on Y/N’s lap as he struggled to get to sleep. “Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, Sammy?” Y/N teased, snorting in amusement.

Sam rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled, “Shut up, Y/N/N” He grumbled in annoyance, opening his eyes to glare at her but there was no heat behind it. Sam chuckled lightly before his face turned serious, “Are you gonna get some sleep as well? You need it” He questioned. “Nah, you go ahead, I’m good” Y/N shook her head.

Sam pursed his lips and hummed, knowing that she was lying. “I’m serious, I’m alright” She told him firmly, sensing the worry in his eyes. “Come on, you’re exhausted, you should get some sleep” Sam pushed, sitting up to look at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, shaking her head again. She wasn’t gonna admit it, but she was tired. Her head throbbed and her cheek still slightly stung from Sam’s punch to her face 24 hours earlier. “I’m fine, Sa- JAKE!” Y/N exclaimed when her eyes glanced over to see a man, his eyes glowing yellow standing behind Jake.

Sam’s head snapped in the direction. “Jake! Behind you!” He tried to warn Jake but he didn’t seem to hear him. “Howdy, Sammy. Howdy, Y/N/N” Azazel smirked, leaning against the wall. Y/N’s heart began racing, her worst nightmare was coming to life. The yellow eyed demon who killed her mother was once again in front of her, and she was scared shitless.

Sam was on the same boat as her. But they weren't gonna show it.

Their chests heaved as they put two and two together as to why no one else can hear them. “We’re dreaming” Y/N gasped as she and Sam backed into the wall, still sitting by the window still. Azazel chuckled darkly, “Why don’t you say…we all take a little walk?” He ordered, leaning off the wall to move closer to them.

Sam and Y/N shared a look, knowing that they didn’t have a choice. So they stood up, never breaking eye contact with Azazel as they did. He gestured with his hand for them to follow him outside so they did just that.

-

Sam and Y/N were practically glued to each other's side as Azazel took the lead, walking out the house with them. “You’re awfully quiet Sam and Y/N. You guys aren’t mad at me, are ya?” Azazel mused. Y/N was glaring daggers at the back of the demon's head along with Sam who was trying his best to keep it together.

“I’m gonna tear you to shreds. I swear” Sam growled. Azazel just laughed in response. Azazel continued to chuckle, which made Y/N’s blood boil. “When you wake up, tiger, take your best shot” Azazel laughed. Sam bared his teeth, gritting them together as he clenched his fists. “You find this funny, dickbreath?!” Y/N snapped.

Azazel spun on his heel, a mockingly shocked expression on his face. “Y/N, that’s no way for a lady to talk!” Azazel exclaimed in fake shock. “I’d call you a lot worse things than that, jackass” Y/N snarled through gritted teeth. “Where’s my brother and Jo?” Sam clenched his jaw. “Quit worrying about Dean and your little bimbo. I’d worry more about yourselves”

Azazel’s words sent a chill down Y/N’s spine, she didn’t like the sound of that. “What, you gonna kill us?” Sam challenged, his fear diminishing each second. “Hit us with your best shot, cunt” Y/N snarked as she and Sam opened their arms out mockingly. “That a dare?” Azazel challenged, a dark look in his eyes.

The two of them smirked, “You bet your ass” Y/N and Sam affirmed in unison. Azazel narrowed his eyes on them. “I’m trying to help you two. That's why we’re talking. Truth be told, I think it’s gonna come down to you two.” Their blood ran cold, all color from their faces drained at his words. “W-what’s that supposed to mean?” Sam’s voice shook with fear.

“Welcome to the Miss America Pageant. Why do you think you’re here? This is a competition” Azazel revealed to them, putting up a finger. “Only one of you crazy kids is gonna make it out of her alive.” His words hit them like a truck. Their eyes widened as they stared at him, their breathing quickened as they tried to wrap their heads around what he was saying. “I thought we were supposed to be-” Y/N stammered.

“Soldiers in a coming war? That’s true. You are. But here’s the thing.” Azazel confirmed, placing up a finger to lean in for only them to hear, even though there’s no one around. “I need soldier” His voice dropped, “I just need the one” Sam and Y/N’s hearts dropped in their stomachs, dread filling their eyes as their mouths went dry.

They didn’t like the sound of this one bit. “Why?” Sam croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Well, I couldn’t just come out and say that, could I? I had to let everyone think they had a fighting chance” Azazel smirked as Sam and Y/N stared at him horrified. “But what I need….is a leader”

“To lead who?” Y/N snapped, “Oh, I’ve already got my army. Or…I will soon, anyway” Azazels gaze darkened as he spoke. “You sick son of a bitch” Sam growled, “Honestly, I’m surprised you two hadn’t guessed. I mean, why do you think so many children flame out already?” The demon chuckled, pacing slowly in front of them.

“Max Miller and Andy’s brother, what’s his name? They weren’t strong enough. I’m looking for the best and brightest of your generation” Y/N was seeing red, she wanted to knock the smarmy look right off his face. “Our generation” Sam asked, his tone dripping with anger, Y/N’s body started to shake with equal anger.

Azazel nodded, “Well…there’s other generations. But let’s just worry about yours” he chuckled, making her blood boil. “That’s why I’m here, I wanna give you guys the inside track.” Azazel stated, walking closer to them. “You two are tough, smart, well-trained. Thanks to your daddies.”

Y/N bared her teeth, “Don’t you bring my father into this!” She seethed through gritted teeth. Azazel chuckled at her, “Touchy, touchy” he teased, making Sam and Y/N’s eyes twitch in anger. “Sam. Sammy. Y/N. Y/N/N. You’re my favorites.” Azazel’s voice dropped as he spoke. “You ruined our lives. You killed everyone I love” Sam’s nostrils flared, the words leaving his mouth with pure distaste.

“The cost of doing business I’m afraid” Azazel whispered. “I mean…sweet little Jessica. She just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing. Become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut and a McMansion in the suburbs.” Sam’s eyes further darkened with each word the demon spoke, Y/N was ready to maul the son of a bitch.

“I needed you two sharp, on the road, honing your skills….your gifts. If anything, you should be thanking me. Or else, you wouldn’t have met your little bimbo, Jo” A dark smirk graced the demon's face.Y/N’s entire face went red in anger, she felt her fingers begin to burn. “Don’t you bring Jo into this either!” Y/N hissed, taking a step forward but was held back by Sam’s arm in front of her.

Azazel chuckled at her, the sick bastard was enjoying getting under Y/N and Sam’s skin. Sam was clenching his jaw so tightly, Y/N was worried he would grind his teeth to nubs. “Don’t you say a word about her” he growled in warning, the venom in his voice making Azazel chuckle darkly.

“What are you, a little defensive? A little protective?” Azazel questioned, cocking his mockingly. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he pushed Y/N behind him, taking a step forward, he was now nearly toe to toe with the demon. “You don’t get to talk about her.” He snarled, his hands curling into fists at his side.

“Not when you killed our moms!” Y/N snapped, tip toeing to shout over Sam’s shoulder. “That was bad luck,” Azazel grinned. “Bad luck?” Sam scoffed. “They walked in on me. Wrong place, wrong time” Azazel sighed. “What the fuck does that mean?” Y/N scoffed. “It wasn’t about them. It was about you and you. It's always been” Azazel pointed to them individually.

“What?” Sam and Y/N croaked in unison. “Okay. You caught me in a charitable mood. I’ll show you” Azazel smirked, snapping his fingers.

-

Y/N gasped as she opened her eyes. She was no longer next to Sam, he was out of sight and the yellow-eyed demon stood next to her. Her eyes widened as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a nursery. Her nursery. “Look familiar? It should” Azazel whispered into her ear. “Sam?! Sammy?!” Y/N panicked, looking around for him.

Y/N’s eyes were filled with panic when she couldn’t find Sam, a lump was starting to form in her throat. She gasped when her eyes landed on a baby crib with a baby in it. It was her, as a baby. Y/N couldn’t think straight as she tried to take in the surroundings.

Azazel placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers pressing down on her shoulder as she watched her younger self in the crib. Her jaw clenched when she saw a hooded figure walk into the nursery and pad over to her crib. Y/N instantly went to attack but Azazel pulled her back.

“Relax, Y/N. This is just a hi-def instant replay. Enjoy the show” Azazel said. Y/N snatched the demon by his collar and sent his back barreling into the wall. “Where’s Sam, motherfucker?!” Y/N shouted, her eyes narrowing to slits at Azazel, pure rage fueling through her veins.

Y/N was shaking with anger as she pinned the demon to the wall, her fist curled in his collar. Azazel let out a dark chuckle as he was shoved against the wall, his hands gripped her wrist, trying to pry her off of him. “You’re feisty” he taunted, an amused smirk on his face.

Y/N bared her teeth at him, “Answer me! Where is he?! WHERE’S MY BROTHER?!” She yelled. “Relax, your precious Sammy is safe” He reassured her, although there was a hint of smugness in his tone. Azazel’s words didn’t relax her in the slightest. Instead, Y/N just got angrier. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your lying, demonic mouth” she seethed, pressing harder into his collar.

The yellow-eyed demon chuckled, he found her anger to be adorable. “Relax, my dear. We have a surprise guest” he cooed, nodded his head in the direction behind her. Y/N’s heart was seconds away from falling out of her chest when she saw her mother’s sleepy face appear in the doorway.

She wore a black nightgown that nearly reached the floor, squinting her eyes at the figure hovering over her crib. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she watched a younger version of her own mother, “F/N?” Her mom’s sleepy voice croaked. “Momma?” Y/N’s grip loosened on the demon's collar, turning to face the door where M/N stood.

“Is she hungry?” M/N asked the figure, thinking it was her husband. A six-month old Y/N was crying in her crib. “Shhh” The figure shushed baby Y/N, “Okay” M/N shrugged, not realizing that it was in fact a demon standing over her babygirl’s crib. “No! Mom!” Y/N gasped, her eyes glued to the scene. She wanted to cry out to her mother to run but she found herself frozen in place.

Her mother, completely unsuspecting what was actually happening, slowly turned and padded out of the room. Y/N felt like her heart was breaking in her chest as she watched her mother turn and leave, “No…momma” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears began to sting her eyes. “What did I just tell you, Y/N, she can’t hear you. This isn’t real” Azazel scoffed.

“Watch closely” he whispered in her ear. “Shut the fuck up before I gut you” Y/N snapped, her eyes glancing back to the crib. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the demon cut his wrist open over younger self and allowed his blood to drop into her mouth. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” She gasped, her stomach beginning to churn.

“Better than mother’s milk,” Azazel chuckled. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick, her stomach did backflips as she watched as her infant self drank the demon blood. “Does this mean I have- does this mean Sam has-“ Y/N couldn’t get the words out. Azazel chuckled at her horrified expression. “Oh, it’s not so bad. Sam has it too” he smirked. “We have demon blood in us!?”

Suddenly, M/N ran back into the room. Causing Y/N’s head to snap over to her direction. “It’s you” M/N gasped at the figure, “She knew you” Y/N realized. Her mom’s eyes flashed white, she extended her arm, her veins lighting up a darker shade of blue compared to how Y/N’s would normally glow. With a tilt of her head, she sent Azazel barreling into the wall.

“Mom!” Y/N gasped, watching the scene in front of her. The pain potent in her voice. Her jaw dropped when she saw her mother’s fingertips turn blue- and then push a full-grown man into a wall as if he was nothing more than a small child. She’d never seen her mom using her powers before. It was like a dream.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Feisty mama” Azazel grunted, recovering from being slammed into the wall. He stood up, straightening out his suit, “Bravo” He clapped his hands together in mock applause, although Y/N could tell there was a hint of annoyance in his tone.

M/N rushed over to the crib, her eyes scanning over younger Y/N’s body, checking for any injury. “No!!” Y/N screamed when Azazel's younger self waved his hand in a swift motion and M/N’s back hit the wall. She began grunting as she slid upwards and towards the ceiling. A strangled cry left Y/N’s throat as she watched her mother hit the wall and begin to lift off the ground.

A pained gasp leaving M/N’s throat to show the amount of pressure being put on her body. “I don’t think you wanna see the rest of this” Azazel smirked before waving his hand in the air.

-

“Y/N!! Sam!!” The two gasped awake to see Andy and Jake standing in front of them. Sam shot up from his position on Y/N’s lap. “Ava’s missing” Jake told them, his tone filled with concern. Sam and Y/N were both disoriented, still trying to piece together what they saw. “What do you mean missing?” Y/N asked, her heart thudding in her chest.

Jake’s face was filled with dread as he spoke, “She’s gone. Just vanished” he explained. “Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pulling her knife out of her boot before rushing out the house. Sam and Jake followed behind her after telling Andy to stay at the house in case Ava came back.

Sam was still trying to piece together the fragments of his vision as he and Y/N both burst out of the house. Jake was practically on his heels behind them. “I’ll take the barn and the hotel, you guys take the houses” Jake said to them. “Alright, meet back here in 10 minutes, okay?” Sam responded. “Okay” Jake nodded before heading in the other direction.

-

Not even five minutes had gone by and the sounds of Ava’s terrified screams came from inside the house they were originally in. Their gazes both went to the house as they heard Ava’s scream coming from inside. “Ava!” Y/N yelled out, her heart thumping in her chest. Before Sam could say anything, Y/N was already rushing towards the house.

Sam cursed under his breath as he saw Y/N run into the house. He quickly ran after her, just as desperate to get to Ava. With heavy feet, the two hunters followed to the sound of her scream to see Ava sobbing over a now deceased Andy’s body. Her face smeared with his blood, the former psychic bleeding from claw marks on his chest.

A strangled gasp left Sam’s throat at the sight of Andy’s lifeless body laying on the floor. Y/N’s blood ran cold at the sight, her eyes going from Andy’s body to Ava, who was sobbing uncontrollably over his body. “Sam! Y/N! I just found him like this!”

“What happened?” Y/N asked, clutching his stomach with a hand. “I don’t know” Ava sobbed. “How the fuck did the bastard get in?” Y/N snarled as she checked every salt line, knowing a demon had done it by the burning energy she felt radiating off of Andy’s body and the room. She was able to feel it since the death was quite recent.

Y/N peeled back the window to see a salt line was perfectly broken. Her jaw clenched as the worst possible reason came to mind. She nudged Sam, pointing to the salt line. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at the broken salt line on the window, a wave of anger washed over him as all the pieces finally clicked in his head.

“Son of a…” he swore, his hands clenched into fists at his side. They gave each other a firm nod, communicating with their eyes before turning to Ava. “Ava, where were you?” Sam snapped. “I just went to get some water from the well. I was only gone for maybe like two minutes” Ava sobbed, quite overdramatically.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at her, “Who did that?” She pointed to the broken salt line. “I don’t know! Maybe Andy-” Ava cried, her eyes filling with tears as Y/N questioned her. Sam glanced at Y/N, she clearly had doubts about Ava too. “Andy wouldn’t do that.” Sam snapped again. “Ava. That line wasn’t broken when we left” Y/N stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? You don’t think I-?” Ava asked, her tone suddenly very defensive. Y/N raised her eyebrows, Ava’s tone only added to her suspicions. Sam cut her off again, “I’ll tell you what we think. Five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for” Sam stated in an accusatory tone.

“But that headache you got, when the demon got Lily” Y/N growled as she moved closer to have. “What are you trying to say?” Ava’s voice cracked. “What happened to you?” Sam narrowed his eyes at Ava. “Nothing!” Ava screamed insistently through tears. But Sam and Y/N didn’t believe her or her act.

“Bullshit!” Y/N snapped, her patience with Ava running thin. Ava’s eyes suddenly darkened, a dark laugh leaving her throat as she wiped away the faux-tear from her eye. “I had you guys going though, didn’t I?” She chuckled, as she continued to wipe away her tears. “Yeah” She confirmed, flicking away the tears from her fingers.

“I’ve been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us.” Sam and Y/N’s stomachs dropped at the change in Ava’s demeanor, it was clearly a complete switch up from how she was acting only moments before. Their eyes remained glued on her, every muscle of their bodies tensed, preparing to strike if she made the first move.

“Batches of three or four at a time.” Ava smirked. “You killed them? All of them?” Sam’s tone dropped, the disbelief clear in his voice. “I’m the undefeated heavyweight champion” Ava smirked, her time braggy. “Oh my god” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. “Don’t think God has much to do with that, Y/N” Ava whispered.

“How could you?” Sam gaped, “I had no choice. It was me or them. After a while, it was easy” Ava shrugged as if it was nothing. “It was even kind of fun.” Y/N narrowed her eyes as Ava’s words, allowing her arms to drop to her sides. “You wanna know what’s gonna be fun, bitch? When I rip you limb from limb”

Ava chuckled, her eyes narrowing, “You think you can take me?” She asked, smirking. “I’ll bet I can,” Y/N growled. Sam shot Y/N a quick look, silently begging her to be smart. As skilled as Y/N was, he didn’t want her to get hurt.

“It’ll only be a fair fight when you stop fighting it” Ava whispered with a cocky grin. “Fighting what?” Sam asked as he swallowed harshly. “Who we are, Sam. If you just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do” Ava exclaimed, her eyes flickering back over to Y/N.

“I can see you’re almost there” She smirked at her. Sam’s mind was racing at Ava’s words, what did she mean by ‘open up, who they are’? And what could Y/N be almost to? These questions were racing through his mind as he clenched and unclenched his fists with nervousness. Y/N was thinking all the same things.

“The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy. The switches that just flip in your brain” Ava explained, snapping her fingers before bursting into laughter. “I can’t believe I started out just having dreams” She laughed. “Do you know what I can do now?” Y/N felt a splitting migraine form in her head again, but she ignored it, clenching her jaw.

“Control demons” Y/N snapped, clutching her head. “Ah…you guys are quick on the draw” Ava snorted before placing her fingers to her temples, silently concentrating. Both Sam and Y/N were both still reeling at all the things Ava had told them when suddenly, a black cloud came through the window and through the salt like.

Y/N felt not only the migraine attack her but behind her neck was burning, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Her hand instantly went to her temple as she groaned softly. “I’m sorry guys but, it’s over” Ava smirked. Sam and Y/N glared at her, Sam held up his iron poker and Y/N held up her iron butterfly knife, still clutching her head.

Jake then appeared behind Ava, the army vet pulled her into his chest before swiftly snapping her neck. Y/N’s head was spinning at Ava’s words as her vision began to blur. But she was snapped out of it when she heard the sound of Ava’s neck being snapped. She stumbled slightly backwards, a wave of relief washing over her at the sight of Jake holding Ava.

But her relief was short-lived when her vision suddenly began to blur. “What the-“ Y/N whispered as her knees began to buckle. Sam noticed her sudden stumble backwards, his eyes going wide at the sight of her legs starting to buckle. “Y/N!” He called out, rushing over to her.

He caught her before she completely lost her balance, wrapping an arm around her waist tightly while his other hand came up to her face, gently shaking her face. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s over. I’ve got you” Y/N let out a small groan in response as she blinked her eyes open. But the pain in her head wasn’t going away, it was pounding so hard against her skull she felt like passing out.

“God, my head…” she mumbled softly while weakly grasping Sam’s hand against her face.

-

The Impala, Harley and Bobby’s truck pulled up the town of Cold Oak. All hunters got out of their respective vehicles and headed to the trunk of Baby. “Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.” Bobby stated as Dean opened the trunk and everyone took out their needed weapons. “Let’s go” Dean said, determined as he cocked his gun.

-

Sam was helping a very delirious Y/N out of the house as Jake followed behind them. “I’m fine, Sam. You can let go now” She assured Sam who was still holding her up. “Yeah, no chance in hell. You look like shit, dude” Sam grunted as he continued to hold her. He knew she was a stubborn woman so she was going to say that she’s fine when in reality, she’s actually not.

So he ignored her and continued to hold her up, he knew she needed it. Y/N didn’t even bother trying to argue with Sam, she knew he wouldn’t let up. She felt like if he wasn’t currently supporting her weight, she would probably be on the ground. Her headache from hell wasn’t going away, she now had a sore ass headache, and was on the verge of collapsing from fatigue.

“I think we can make it out of here now” Sam told Jake. “But the Acheri demon-“ Jake started. “No, no, no. Ava was summoning it, controlling it. It shouldn’t come back now that she’s dead, we gotta go” Y/N told him as they walked down the porch, “Not we, Y/N” Jake suddenly said in a dark tone. Sam and Y/N stopped in their tracks, turning to face Jake.

“Only one of us is getting out of here. I’m sorry” Jake shook his head. Y/N and Sam stared at him in surprise, neither of them were expecting him to say that. “Excuse me?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?” Sam gaped. “I-I had a vision. That Yellow-Eyes demon or whatever it was. He talked to me. He told me how it was”

“No, no, no, no, no, Jake. You can’t listen to him” Sam pleaded with him, “Sam, Y/N, he’s not letting us go! Only one. Now, if we don’t play along here, he’ll kill us all.” Jake pointed out. Y/N peeled herself from Sam and forcefully stood on both her feet. “Now, I like you guys, I do. And y/n, you’re very easy on the eyes. But do the math here. What good’s it gonna do for all of us to die?”

Sam and Y/N shared an unease look, the female psychic swaying on her feet. “Now, I can get out of her. I get close to the demon. I can kill the bastard” Jake offered an ultimatum. “You come with us, we can kill him together” Y/N countered his offer, “How do I know you guys won’t turn on me?” Jake narrowed his eyes on them. “We won’t!” Sam insisted.

“I don’t know that” Jake shook his head, unsure. Sam and Y/N became uneasy. “Okay, look” Y/N held her hands up, taking out her butterfly knife from her jacket. Sam shot her a nervous look as she flicked up open, raised it to the air and placed it on the ground. Showing Jake that they meant no harm.

Jake watched how Y/N dropped her weapon, eyeing it on the ground for a moment before slowly glancing back up at her and Sam. Y/N locked eyes with him, trying to communicate that they wouldn’t do anything to him. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t do this. Don’t play into what it wants.” Sam pleaded softly, still watching him closely.

Jake nodded before slowly bending down to place his wrench. Sam and Y/N let out sighs of relief before cheapshotting them both, uppercutting Sam and Y/N simultaneously. The hunters grunted harshly as they flew a few feet up into the air and into a wooden fence.

The breath was knocked out of Y/N as she slammed into the fence, she laid there for several moments as she gasped for air. Her chest was burning as she inhaled sharp breaths, her ears ringing. She slowly sat up, blinking slowly as another wave of dizziness came over her, she gripped the wooden fence for support and tried to see where Sam was.

She finally spotted him, he laid a few feet away. He was moving around, letting her know that he was still awake. She slowly started making her way over to him, her vision was a little hazy but she was able to crawl over to him and put a shaking hand on him.

Jake stalked towards them, his feet heavy. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he walked towards them, she quickly pulled Sam closer to her trying to shield him from injury. Her head was still spinning from the hit, causing her to struggle to stay alert as her vision blurred around the edges.

Jake tried to kick Sam but Y/N swiftly waved her hand outwards, sending Jake barreling into a rusted old car. Y/N winced slightly as her eyes reverted back to its original color and her veins diminished it’s glowing blue. A pain shot through her temples from the use of her powers, but it was worth it to give Sam time to recover. Sam was finally coming to and sat up, blinking repeatedly trying to focus his vision.

Y/N grasped Sam’s shoulder gently, getting his attention. “You okay? Can you get up?” She asked quietly, keeping an eye on Jake who was slowly starting to recover. Jake almost instantly recovered, charging towards Sam and Y/N.

Sam got to his feet quickly and helped Y/N to hers, pulling her behind him. They prepared themselves for Jake's incoming attack, both of them still a little disoriented from being thrown against the fence. The two got into fighting stances, it was two against one. Sam swung first but Jake quickly dodged.

Y/N let out an almost battle cry scream as she raised her foot to kick Jake across the face, her hands glowed blue as she put all her strength into it. The kick successfully landed against Jake’s face, his head snapping back from the force. Y/N exhaled in relief, watching how Jake staggered backwards a bit.

Sam lunged at Jake, tackling him to the ground. Sam and Jake were now rolling on the ground, throwing punches and trying to overpower each other. Y/N stumbled away from the two as they fought, looking for the weapons they discarded, her head pounding and her eyesight slowly swimming. She blinked, trying to clear her eyesight as she leaned against a wooden railing on a porch.

Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a wrench Jake discarded a few feet away. She pushed herself off the railing and stumbled over to the tool, her hand grabbed it tightly as she turned around with it in an offensive position. She looked back over at Sam and Jake’s fight, her vision still blurry.

She rushed over to the fighting men and raised the tool above her head. It came down, landing against Jake’s head with a loud ‘thud’ sound. He instantly slumped onto the ground with a groan, leaving Sam to breathe for a moment in relief.

The world was spinning for Y/N after that blow, her head pounding even harder as her vision continued to swim. She stumbled backwards slightly, her legs feeling like they were going to give out. Sam held her up, taking the wrench from her.

He raised it up to finish the job with Jake but he couldn’t. He took a few breaths before dropping the wrench to the ground with a thud. He held Y/N up as she leaned against him, her entire body shaking. Sam quickly looked her over, noticing how she was basically holding onto him for dear life.

“AHHH!!!” Y/N screamed as the migraine returned, her eyes flashing white, her head was splitting open as the vision that was nagging her for hours finally reached its peak, revealing itself to her. Sam jumped in surprise as she yelled, wrapping his arms around her as her body went tense.

“Y/N/N! Hey, are you okay?!” Sam panicked, watching in horror as the familiar sight of her eyes and hands turning white and blue. He knew she was having a vision, judging by the sheer amount of agony she was in. “SAM!!! Y/N!!!” Sam heard the voices of his brother and Jo calling out to them.

“Dean" Sam and Y/N sighed in relief, clutching their shoulders. Dean's heart dropped when he noticed Jake behind his brother. "SAM LOOK OUT!" Dean shouted warningly when he approached Sam and Y/N, wielding a knife.

Sam didn't have a chance to respond before he was stabbed in the back by Jake. Dean ran towards his brother in the field, "NOOOOOOO!!!" Dean screamed painfully.

Jake twisted the knife buried in his spinal cord before Sam fell to his knees, his face contorted with agony.

This was the last thing Y/N saw when she came to, in the middle of the field, gripping her head from the migraine that struck. Her face was contorted with horror as eyes flickered up to Sam as her vision that she forced herself to believe was a dream was seconds away from happening. “Y/N/N, are you okay?” Sam asked, worry etched on his face, still clinging onto her.

“SAM LOOKOUT!!” Dean shouted warningly when Jake came up behind Sam, wielding the knife. “NOOO!” Left her lips. It was as if everything was in slow motion as Y/N acted out of instinct, her hand shining that familiar aqua blue light as she waved her hand, sending her best friend tumbling out of the way with a force, only to be stabbed by Jake instead, sacrificing her life for his.

The knife slid deep into Y/N's spinal cord as Sam fell to the ground, witnessing her demise firsthand, clutching his dislodged shoulder from the blast of power Y/N sent hurling towards him, and Dean's eyes widened in terror.

"NOOOOO!" Dean screamed in despair, his heart shattered as he watched her get stabbed. An ear piercing scream left Jo’s lungs upon seeing Y/N get stabbed. Bobby, Jo and Dean hurriedly approached Y/N as Bobby and Jo ran after Jake, who had already twisted and retracted the knife from Y/N’s back, was long gone.

Y/N cried out in agony, followed by an ear piercing scream from the psychic, the ground beneath them shaking as Dean caught her in time before she fell to her knees, gripping her by her jacket.

"Y/N! Woah, woah, woah, y/n, y/n, hey" Dean exclaims in a panic as he hurriedly lowered her to the ground, onto her knees as Sam rushed over, forgetting his wounded shoulder.

“Hey, come here, come here, let me look at you” Sam sobbed, his hands immediately going to her back, trying desperately to press his hand against the gushing wound as Y/N’s head wobbled into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean's heart broke when he saw the tremendous amount of blood on his brother's hand, holding up y/n to face him. “Hey, hey, hey. Look princess, it’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad alright?” Dean tried to convince himself, his voice cracking with emotion as he and Sam held her up.

"It’s bad, it’s... it’s bad" Sam choked out, struggling to keep his composure as he held his hand firmly against her bleeding wound, putting as much pressure as he could against the injury.

Dean's heart sank as he held her close, desperately trying to convince himself that it was not that bad, but the sight of so much blood on his brother's hand told a different story. "Just... just look at me, ok? Y/N just look at me."

“Y/N?? Y/N! HEY!” Dean shouted, shaking her, “Hey, you gotta listen to me for once, okay sweetheart? We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’re gon’ be as good as new? Huh?” But y/n’s head wobbled again, blood leaking from her mouth as a pained smile took her face.

Sam's face contorted with pain as he helped his brother to hold up Y/N's limp body in his arms, the blood from her wound staining his hands and clothes. "It’s alright, you're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay" Sam repeated over and over again like a mantra, trying to convince himself as much as his brother but Y/N was limp. "She's fading, she's... she's fading!" Sam cried out helplessly. "We gotta... we gotta do something!"

Dean's heart pounded in his chest and he felt a sense of desperation wash over him. He shook her again, trying to get her to stay awake and listen to him. "No, no, no, no, no. Y/N/N, come on, open your eyes! You have to stay with me, alright??"

“I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take care of both of you. I’ve got you. It’s my job right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother and his even bigger pain in the ass, sarcastic, ray of sunshine best friend” Dean forcefully chuckled as he pushed her hair aside.

Sam chuckled through his tears, his hands trembling as he tried to do all he could to stop the bleeding, but it seemed like it was futile. "Who’s gonna mouth off Dean when he’s being a dick, huh?” Sam croaked, attempting to help Dean hold her up.

Dean tried to put on a brave face, but his own eyes were filled with tears. He kept his hands on her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks as he tried to keep her awake. "Just... just stay with me, alright?" He pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Come on, stay awake" Dean pleaded as he held her in his arms, his heart breaking as he saw how pale and lifeless she looked. "You have to fight. Please. I can't lose you. I can't lose you too."

But Y/N didn’t respond. Her eyes were closing and her breathing was becoming labored. "Y/N/N, baby please don’t do this to me," Dean begged, his voice cracking with emotion. "You can’t leave me. You can’t do this to me."

Suddenly, a strangled gasp escaped her lips, sending a pang of hope through Dean. "That's it, that's it" he urged her, his voice shaking with emotion. "Just keep breathing, princess. Just keep breathing."

“A-and you two…call m-me…the d-drama queen” Y/N breathed out, a weak chuckle leaving her through, coughing up blood. Dean and Sam let out a small laugh, but there was no joy in it. They both just wanted her to hold on, to fight.

Dean felt a slight pang of relief as Y/N spoke, her voice weak and struggling, but there was a hint of her usual sass that gave him a glimmer of hope. "That's right, there she is, there's my girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Sam's face was etched with worry as he tried to keep pressure on the wound. "Just hold on Y/N, please," Sam begged, tears streaming down his face. Y/N's voice was strained as she struggled to speak, her words laced with pain and sadness. "Listen... listen to me. I need to... I need to say something."

“No, no, no, no. You don’t need to say anything because you’re gonna be alright. Okay?!” Dean sobbed, gripping her tightly as she shook her head again. A weak tearful smile on her face,

"Dean... please, just... just let me say this" she whispered, her voice weakening with each word. Sam's tears fell silently as he continued to try to stop the bleeding, but it was clear that time was running out. He could see the determination in her eyes.

Dean looked at her, his expression a mixture of fear and desperation. He knew that she was running out of time, but the thought of hearing her final words was unbearable.

"No, no, no, no, no. You're not... you're not dying. You can't do this to me. You can't leave me." Y/N's hand lifted to touch his face, her touch weak and trembling before forcefully lifting her other hand to rest against Sam’s face.

Y/N took a shaky breath as she looked at them both, knowing that this might be the last time they ever saw her alive. "I... I just want to say... that I'm grateful. For everything" she began, her voice shaky and soft. “You two have been m-my rocks our whole lives, the only reasons I kept going. So t-thank you. I’ll always l-love you fellas.”

Dean and Sam's tears fell freely now, their hearts breaking as they listened to her words. The words cut through Dean's heart like a knife, the realization that this might be farewell sinking in. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

"Y/N, please don't do this. You’re going to make it. We need you. I need you," he choked out, pleading with her to stay. Sam sniffled, tears streaming silently down his face as he held her hand on his cheek. "We love you too, Y/N. We love you too. You’re gonna be fine."

But Y/N smiled through her pain, shaking her head as tears stung at her eyes. "No…I’m not. A-and that’s o-…kay. You guys... you two are the only family I ever had. You’ll always b-be...my…fellas" Her voice grew weaker with every word as she slowly faded.

Her eyes flickered over to Dean, a pained expression on her face, “And D-dean…” She sniffled, feeling her body beginning to succumb to her injury. “I lo-….” But she didn’t get to finish her sentence, finally succumbing to her injury, her head plopping for one last time on Dean’s shoulder as she took her last breath.

The brothers sat there in shocked silence for a moment, tears streaming down their faces as they held her motionless body.

Sam sat there in disbelief, staring blankly at her lifeless body. He thought they were both gonna get out of this alive, live to tell the tale. He couldn't believe that she was gone. He couldn't believe that she had just died in their arms. Sam's grip on her hand tightens, his tears falling uncontrollably as he looks at her face, frozen in a peaceful expression.

Dean's mind raced with denial and fear. He couldn't accept that she was really gone. He looked at her face, searching for a hint of life, hoping against hope that she would open her eyes and smile at him. Dean's heart was shattered, the weight of her death hitting him like a ton of bricks. "No... no, no, no, no, no, no" he repeated, his voice growing increasingly desperate.

The pain in his voice was palpable, his heart breaking as he held her lifeless body in his arms. He could barely form any coherent thoughts, his mind a jumble of despair and disbelief. All he could do was hold her tighter, as if trying to somehow keep her with him.

Sam just shook his head in disbelief, his mind trying to process what had just happened. "This can't be happening. She can't be gone" he whispered, his voice betraying his emotions. “Y/N….Y/N/N!!!” Dean yelled hoarsely as she shook her again but she was gone. Dean held her to him, his hand resting to the back of her head as Sam leaned his head on his sister’s shoulder for the last time.

“Oh, God…Oh God” Sam’s voice cracked as they held her. The brothers were both speechless as they held her close, their tears falling silently onto her lifeless body. They knew that there was nothing they could do to bring her back, and the realization hit them like a ton of bricks.

Dean was inconsolable. He held her close, his heart broken and his mind in a state of denial. He couldn't believe that she was gone, that she had given her life for his brother's. Sam was just as devastated. He had grown up with her like his own sister, and now she was gone. The woman he was proud to call his best friend, his sister. Gone, because she loved him more than she loved herself. He couldn't think straight, his thoughts consumed by grief and guilt.

Dean found himself struggling to breath, holding the woman he loved motionless in his hands, having sacrificed her life. “Y/N!!!” Dean bellowed into the empty dark night.

They held her tightly, not wanting to let go. The weight of her death felt like a lead weight in their hearts, and they knew that their lives would never be the same again. As Dean let out another heart-wrenching yell, Sam's body shuddered with his own silent sobs. They stayed like that for a long time, holding her close, begging her to come back.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Heyyyy, heyyyyy, how y’all doing???🌚🌚🌚 NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME I- I actually have no way to defend myself😭LET ONE RIP ON ME, YELL AT ME AND CUSS ME OUT BECAUSE THIS HURT MY SOUL MAN (pun intended💀) OKAY OKAY I'M GOING!! Hope y’all enjoyed it! Tell me what you hate and what you lovee. Don’t be shy to ask questions❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

Xoxo

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Chef! Ghost

————

Chef! Ghost Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

————

SFW

Chef!Ghost who works in a 3 star Michelin Star restaurant and co-owns it

Chef!Ghost was just like Carmen Berzatto from The Bear. Watching YouTube videos on cooking perfect meals and being so precise and accurate with his cooking

Chef!Ghost who gets a bit attached and attracted to one of the waitresses

Chef!Ghost who yells at everyone else including his cooks but is extremely nice to his favorite waitress

"I NEED HANDS! WHERE ARE MY WAITERS!!?" He yells from the kitchen. Some of the customers all looked at the kitchen hearing him yell, waiters and waitresses excuse their selves to head to the back.

"Sorry, had a table that wouldn't let me leave, I was on my way, I promise," she says, coming into the back where he just apologized to her for being loud and rude.

"Yeah, same here," a waiter comes in.

"I EXPECT MORE FROM YOU, YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR AND STILL CAN'T GET A SIMPLE TICKET ORDER RIGHT!!" He yells.

"SHE'S BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ME!" Pointing to Y/n. She just shrugs and heads out.

Chef!Ghost who starts on desserts a bit early, but really he was making it for his favorite waitress.

"I'm looking for my order for table 5?" She comes in asking. "It's been close to 30 minutes," she says. "I thought the ticket times were good?"

"Ask him," Soap points to Simon over his shoulder, who was leaned over the dessert, he noticed Y/n and brought it over to her.

"Sorry for the slow time," he says. He grabs a to-go box and placed it inside and hands it to her. "For your lunch break." He says.

"Thank you...I still need that chicken alfredo for my table."

"It's coming," he says waiting for her to leave. "HEY I NEED THAT FUCKING CHICKEN ALFREDO, WHERE THE HELL IS IT!!?" He yells like his normal self.

Chef!Ghost who liked closing nights, cause sometimes Y/n has to close, Y/n always picked up night shifts cause she liked them, it was surprisingly slow at nights versus the morning or afternoon.

She wipes the tables down and moves the chairs to be on top of the tables, refilling the salt and pepper shakes as she cleans around. She rolls some silverware for the morning people.

"Your here late." Ghost says coming into the main dinning hall.

"I'm just cleaning up."

"Where's Henry?"

"He left early, so it's just me," she says.

"Did you...eat the dessert?"

"I didn't have time to, I didn't even get a break because I was running around doing things, and couldn't get a break," she says.

"Well, it looks like you're done now...want to...eat it?" He asks.

"Now?" She giggles at him.

"Why not? We can clean where we ate."

NSFW

Chef!Ghost who clears off a space in the kitchen, to place Y/n on top of. Spreading her legs, kissing her lips and moving down to her inner thighs. The plus about working here is that waitress were in skirts, honestly easy accuses

Chef!Ghost who now wants to close almost everyday just to be able to have you when no one is around

Chef!Ghost who has pulled Y/n into the walk-in for a quicky, locking it behind them and yelling at anyone who knocks to bother them

Chef!Ghost who likes to wait at the back door for you when you're done with your shift just to take you to the car and have his way with you in his car

Chef!Ghost who makes your favorite lunch and you two eat in the office with the door closed and Simon likes to have his dessert on his desk, her legs spread and seeing his favorite cream on the desk

Chef!Ghost who's birthday was coming up soon, the kitchen was already prepare for the Chef's birthday, but Y/n had came to his home for his early birthday gift

"Hi, my love," he says.

"Happy Birthday." After that small interaction, Y/n was in control with what happened next, her being on top of him with whipped cream on her chest with it slightly falling with the slight bounce. Simon was just a happy chef.

Chef!Ghost who loves your boobs and he makes subtle hints about it. Making desserts and putting cherries on them. When you two are alone he likes to tease you by moving the neck of your shirt to look down.

"Really?"

"I want to see them," he teases.

Chef!Ghost who makes it clear now that you're his, going up behind you during morning meetings and mess with your small apron around your waist, untying it and retying it how he likes it.

Touching your waist to move you out of the way, and gently speaking to you

Never raising his voice at you for any reason

Chef!Ghost when it's Halloween he gets a sneak peak of your custom before going into work

"I like it...the top though?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's a little low. Only I...can see these beauty's," he says making his way to your chest cupping your boobs and kissing between them

[yeyinde]

Lev? Uncle Simon? I’m excited. I don’t even know what it’s about but I like the sound of it already

out of all the untitled documents to choose from who knew the uncle Simon one would stand out so much lmao this is super choppy but here's my little idea for the new version:

At first, she's a name on a piece of paper. 

An abstract concept. Black lines stamped into stark white. An idea—

(a phone call in the middle of the night that he wasn't expecting. 

"Mr Riley? Is this—right. Well, the reason I'm calling is because the adoption agency received a request from one of the adoptees about tracking down their biological family, and you were the only match.")

—a ghost. 

Out of everyone, he thinks he mourned her the most. This tiny, insignificant thing swathed in pale pink and cradled in the arms of her mother, his almost sister-in-law. Tommy leaning over her shoulder, eyes glazed in an artificial gloss (c'mon, Tommy) as they smile, vacantly, at the camera.

At the time, elbow deep in a shallow grave as he stared at the photo his mother sent him, all he could think was: she never stood a fuckin' chance. 

And she didn't. Her first night home from NICU was when his past came back for revenge. Bloodthirsty, vengeful. They sunk their claws into his family, tearing them into pieces. A nightmarish massacre they called him to discover.

(pinch me, Tommy, pinch me—)

Better off this way, he remembers thinking. Cruel. Callous. Staring down at a tiny grave—her name etched in stone; only days old before the monsters in his closet came searching for their due—and knowing that this was all his fault. And then: sorry, little bird. 

Sorry. Sorry—

But that little bird crawled out of the dirt. Made it out alive somehow. 

(better this way, the higher up said, resting a neat, unblemished hand on the folder marked Simon Riley. next to it, a mask lay on the table. generic. he hums around his grief, thinks of Tommy in the grave—milkwhite bones. "a clean break—"

he thought it was their attempt at humour. maybe an odd way to comfort him. but with the roaring in his ears, he couldn't hear much beyond the ache in his chest, and the ice-cold fury coiling in his belly.

"she's in a better place."

fuckin' hell—

he thought they meant some idea of heaven, not Salford.)

And now—

That name on a piece of paper has a face.

A pretty one, too.

And though he tries to find pieces of Tommy in the symmetry of her profile—and feels antsy, restless, when he does—she takes after her mother. Same complexion. Eyes. The slope of her nose. All of it the woman he met once—stumbling home to find them both passed out on the couch, heads knocked together as a dense cloud of smoke plumed around them. Her eyes, heavy lidded and red, gazing up at him uncomprehendingly.

"who're you?" slurred out in a smokey rasp. Tommy didn't even stir at the sound of her voice.

It's her but healthy. Youthful. Clear eyes. Hands that don't shake. Teeth that gleam white under the fluorescent light of the cafe she works at, not willow-brown. Stained yellow with nicotine. She's softer, too. The harsh, fragile angles of her mother tucked away under a thick pelt. Solid. Steady.

Happy.

He spends a lot of time just staring at her in the back of the dimly cafe, hood pulled over the black ballcap hung low on his brow. Medical mask in place of his typical knit balaclava. Barely blending in to the passel of the teenagers that seem to congregate, em masse, in the small coffeeshop.

Sometimes, she looks back at him. Catches his eye. Offers a smile that's only a little wobbly around the edges, brow pushed together as she tries to make sense of his presence here. With the chocolate trim and the cream walls, the heady scent of ground coffee in the air, chatter of schoolkids and professionals that skirt around him with a considerable dearth to reach the trashbin next to his table. It's clear he doesn't fit.

Doesn't belong.

It glues to the roof of his mouth. The passing, mean thought that neither does she.

Or—

She wouldn't.

If Tommy survived, she'd be leaning against the wall with him, listening to the distant echo of flushing toilets while the world seemed to carve out a steep chasm between them. Them and us. That's how it's always been with him and Tommy.

But she—

She fits.

Offers smiles as easily as breathing. Something that would have netted them a black eye from their raging old man, bellowing out that he'd give them something to smile at.

She doesn't look like anyone has ever raised a hand against her. And he supposes, thinking back on the information he managed to get the private detective hired by her new parents to squeal out, that she doesn't. Not her. No.

Grew up in Salford with her adoptive parents—much older than most looking to adopt, already in their late forties when she was just a year old. Lived a life on the right side of the tracks: spelling bees, private tutors. Vacations to Disneyland. They weren't rich. Not exorbitantly so, but they managed a comfortable lifestyle. Food on the table every night. Chores. Movie nights on Saturday where she got bring a friend for a sleepover. Pizza and popcorn and candy and her mother asking, want some more snacks, honey? Soft and gentle. That's what they were. Are. Doting. Kind.

Punishments were drenched in disappointment. Voices never raised. Hands never furling into fists.

She was a good kid raised by good people.

And he should be happy for her.

He is happy for her.

They raised her good and proper. Put food in belly. Never let her know hunger. Or pain. Neglect.

But he finds Tommy in her smile. The little dip of her chin, tucking her happiness into her collar as if she doesn't want it to be seen. It's all—him. Them.

Simon just can't seem to think around the idea of her belonging to someone else—

(she's his family, after all. his baby bird. his brother's daughter. his niece. his. his—

and maybe it's time baby bird—Baby Riley—came home.)

[starryhyuck]

not like other guys. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: bestfriend!jeno x afab!roommate!reader

words: 4.4k+

summary: jeno’s tired from watching you cry over men who don’t deserve you.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: mentions of previous relationships with renjun and jungwoo, reader is briefly with jaemin, jealousy, fingering, praising, creampie, bigdick!jeno

this fic is exclusive to both tiers on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

Jeno’s not the confrontational type.

As Jaemin likes to say, his personality is akin to an obedient puppy who won’t cause any trouble unless requested to. Jeno once took offense to that type of statement, but over the years, he can’t help but see the truth behind it. It’s why it’s so jarring for rage to bubble in his stomach when he spots Jungwoo at the coffee shop down the street from your shared apartment. He doesn’t even feel like his feet are his own when he strides towards the older man, gripping his shoulder and forcing Jungwoo to turn around and face him.

“Woah,” Jungwoo exclaims in surprise before his jaw clenches when he sees the culprit. “Oh, it’s you.”

Johnny and Jaehyun flank behind him, sipping on their coffee with raised eyebrows. Jeno would normally be embarrassed to confront someone in front of their friends, but his mouth moves before his brain can register the words.

“Next time, pick someone else to string along and toss on the side of the road when you get bored. If I ever see her crying over you again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Jungwoo scoffs, throwing a look back at Johnny and Jaehyun, almost as if he was saying, Can you believe the nerve of this guy? Jeno snarls at him and Jungwoo snickers, only angering him further.

“Come on, Jeno. I did you a favor. Everyone in the entire world knows you two would kill for each other. I was the one looking like a desperate loser when I asked her out.”

Jeno grits his teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jungwoo shakes his head. “Seriously, man? Not only are you two glued at the hip wherever you go, but you live together. I literally can’t make a move on her because you’re always lingering in the background, waiting to skin me alive. Jae even said I was wrong for trying to steal another guy’s girl.”

Jeno looks over at Jaehyun, who nods in agreement to Jungwoo’s statement. Johnny nonchalantly leans on the counter behind him, sunglasses perched over his nose.

“Give Jungwoo a break. You’re only hurting yourself by pushing away the truth,” Johnny advises, although his tone sounds slightly patronizing to Jeno. The barista behind him calls out Jeno’s name, and Johnny takes the drink from her and outstretches it to the man it belongs to. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better when you finally confess your feelings to her.”

Jeno grabs the cup out of his hands, lip curled distastefully.

“I hope you all rot in hell.”

want to read the rest? access both tiers on my patreon here!

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 65 ~ A Friend

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 5.8k

In this chapter ~ After the restless night spent in the barn, amends were made the following morning, just the closure Rose needed to finally be able to move on. Though the peace didn't last, especially when the group is greeted with a new and unfamiliar face. A stranger who spreads the word of the community he comes from.

After Rick's motivational speech, and hundreds of walkers trying to break down the barn doors at nightfall, sleep still didn't come to me. I remained wide awake, numbly looking around at my surroundings for an eternity and a half until the sun started to peek through the cracks of the walls. It was only then I started to slightly doze off. Exhaustion ached in my bones, begging for me to get a few hours of rest in the safe space while I had the chance, yet I still tossed and turned uncomfortably.

My eyes fluttered shut after the long hours of restlessness, not even registering the footsteps that were approaching until the figure sat themselves down beside me. My neck jerked a bit as I opened my eyes slowly when I felt the presence, my heart sinking a little when I saw it was Maggie. It's not that I didn't want to talk to her, I just didn't know how. I didn't know what to say. It felt stupid and inconsiderate to bring up Beth, but yet it was the only thing on my mind, and something we hadn't so much as acknowledged in weeks.

She looked me over for a few lingering moments, managing a small smile, the first one I had seen from her in a very long time. I found myself unable to hold back one of my own, watching as her eyes lit up at just my simple gesture.

At first we didn't speak, just enjoying what was left of the quiet until her voice came out just barely above a whisper. "I miss you."

The simplicity felt like a punch to the gut, but what seemed to hurt worse was the softness of her tone. She didn't sound bitter, or angry at me for avoiding her whenever I could. Just sad.

"I miss you too." I whispered, trying to swallow my emotion. "Mags, I'm so sorry. I just...I've been...I didn't know what to say; I still don't. I'm just so sorry." I admitted sadly.

She shook her head, "You don't ever need to say you're sorry to me, okay? I just needed to...actually talk to you again. I know you've been distant because of everything, and I understand why...but please-"

"I'm trying." I interrupted softly, "I had an...epiphany last night, or something," I huffed, "It made me realize what I was doing...and I just need to keep fighting. We all do. Pushing everyone away isn't the way to do that...so, I'm trying."

A tear of utter exhaustion slipped down her rosy cheek as she nodded again, "I'm trying too. Even though it feels impossible...suffering with one thing after another. But I understand the need to be alone being easier than facing whatever hell we've ended up in...believe me, I do." she sniffled.

My chest ached upon hearing her own battle with sadness, reaching out to wrap my arms around her shoulders before I could even process what I was doing, pulling her into a tight hug. She sighed shakily, feeling her arms come around my middle in an instant as her shoulders began to shake whilst she cried. And it wasn't long before her sobs coaxed my own, the two of us finally mourning the loss of Beth together, the relief feeling like no other.

"I miss her." she muttered through the tears.

I nodded slowly, "Yeah...me too."

She gripped onto me tighter, my shirt scrunching up in her grasp as we were both content with quietly crying in each other's arms. In a way, this was something that we both needed. Clearing the air, the tension, and everything else in between as I felt like I could finally look her in the eye again. Something therapeutic. Neither one of us knew how much time passed while we let everything out, but it didn't matter to me. I just knew that I had her back, and that's all I could care about right now.

Eventually we untangled our arms from one another, laughing quietly once we saw each other's tear stained cheeks. Nothing about it was funny, but the sleep deprivation was clearly catching up to the both of us.

She attempted to dry her eyes with the back of her hand, "She loved you a whole lot you know."

I smiled sadly, "I could say the same thing about you."

The sound of shuffling from just behind me is what cut the conversation short, seeing Daryl moving quietly to lean up against the wall, closing his eyes once more to block the blinding sun. I frowned at the thought of having to talk to him after everything that happened. I knew we were okay, but I just didn't know what I would say. I didn't know how to even begin to explain everything that had been running through my head, it was all too much.

Though Maggie noticed my change in emotion, "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

My gaze turned toward her again, "What isn't wrong?" I asked bitterly, letting out a soft breath, "I have no idea...what I'm going to say to him."

She glanced past my shoulder to see where I was nodding before scoffing quietly, "You joking? That man practically kisses the dirt you walk on, it'll be alright...promise. Don't worry over it too much."

"I don't even know where to start." I muttered.

She shrugged, "Tell him everything."

I rolled my eyes slightly, "Start. I don't know where to start."

She laughed quietly, "Okay...just explain how you've been feeling, how hard it's taken a toll on you. And reassure him it has nothing to do with him."

"Okay," I agreed, "You know, with my luck I'll probably end up word vomiting all over him but...better than bottling it up, right?"

An amused smile crossed her face, "Right." she echoed, slowly standing back up to her feet, "I'm going to talk to Sasha, maybe take a walk...you're more than welcome to come with if you want."

My eyes glanced from her to Daryl a few times, thinking about how some fresh air would be nice, but in my mind, I knew what was more important. "I- uh...I think I've got some stuff to take care of first."

She glanced back over to where my eyes kept darting to, nodding in understanding before she walked over near where Sasha had been sleeping for the night. I watched as she leaned down to gently wake her, before they both headed outside the barn doors quietly to talk.

My heart felt a bit heavier as I looked back towards Daryl, seeing his eyes were still closed as he groggily attempted to wake up for the day and I sighed to myself. What was I supposed to say? How much was I going to tell him? How I was sorry for my mood swings yesterday? I felt that I was never really good at expressing my negative feelings and he deserved something that was actually worth listening to.

But I guess I was just going to have to wing it, seeing as though my body was being drawn to him faster than I anticipated.

I cautiously sat myself down next to him, the noise my boots made not going unnoticed by him as he immediately seemed to open his eyes. He jolted a bit on alert, but once he was it was just me, he relaxed greatly. It still managed to amaze me that after all we've been through, biting his head off no less than yesterday, he still looked at me with all the love in the world. He looked at me as if nothing happened, like everything was perfectly fine. But we both knew that wasn't the case.

"Hi." I whispered.

Though I internally cursed the moment the word left my mouth. Hi? What the hell was wrong with me? Well, I guess you have to start somewhere.

He chuckled softly, "Hey."

I took a deep breath, "I'm so sorry." I spoke quietly, tears already threatening to fall from my eyes from only three words, and yet I had so much more to say.

"I've been pulling away from everyone...thinking it would be easier...but believe me, pulling away from you hurt me more than you could imagine. I didn't mean any of the things I said yesterday, about letting me go...don't." I pleaded, "Because I don't want to let you go. I couldn't have asked for a more supportive husband, especially right now, being there for me even when I didn't want you to be. You've been incredible and I've just been such a bitch, and I'm just- I'm so sorry-"

The entire time I was talking, I watched as he bit his lower lip to try and keep himself together. But toward the end where my voice started to crack, he finally had enough and brought his hands up to my cheeks to wipe my tears.

"Shh," he shushed me, "It's okay, it's okay." he whispered before slowly bringing me into a hug, giving me a chance to pull away if I wanted, but that was far from what I wanted. I practically crashed into his arms and held onto him tightly like I never wanted to part from him again, but the truth was I didn't. I felt like I lost so much time with shutting myself out, yet he was the same perfect man that was always willing to wait. I didn't deserve him. I never did.

"Don't you ever say yer sorry bout that." he said a bit sternly, pulling back to look me in the eye, "Ya hear me?"

I nodded my head tearfully. "I know yer hurtin. I know why ya said the things ya said, or did the things ya did. Ya never have to explain yerself to me. M' always gonna be right here...didn't I promise ya that yesterday?"

I nodded again, "I- I just didn't want you to think that-"

"I know," he said softly, "I know, Rosie." he wiped more tears from my cheeks as he spoke in a hushed tone, "The only thing that hurt me these past few weeks was seein ya so broken. And the fact that I didn't know how to help, hurt me even more."

"I'm sorry." I repeated like a broken record.

He shook his head firmly, "Stop. Stop apologizin."

I exhaled a shuttering breath, nodding my head again, "I wanted you to know how much I didn't mean it. How much I wanted to take it back right after I said it."

"I know," he assured once more, "I won't hold it against ya...just wanna be able to be here for ya."

I shook my head slowly, "You have been. You've been so patient with me...you're perfect."

He scoffed, "I ain't perfect."

"You are to me." I stated almost firmly, wanting him to hear just how much I apricated him.

He smiled the biggest smile I had seen from him in a while, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he leaned in to plant a brief kiss on my lips before bringing me into his embrace once more. It was like fireworks erupted in my stomach at the familiar feeling. He was always so gentle and loving, which only made me only pull him in closer. His hand traced soothing circles along my back whilst the other went up to my hair, running his fingers through my mess of curls. I missed his touch. I missed his warmth. I missed him.

He pulled back slightly after a few moments, peppering soft kisses across my skin as if he had been deprived, his beard tickling and scratching me to which I laughed into his shoulder. I heard a soft hum vibrate through his body, his arms squeezing me tighter.

"I missed that sound." he muttered quietly.

I felt my face flush a bit at the sincerity behind his voice, pulling my face back enough to look at him, "I missed you."

He tilted his head a bit, "I missed ya more, angel."

I smiled softly, pecking his lips once more before I snuggled into his side, letting out a breath of relief I felt I had been holding in for ages. His presence alone was something that I desperately needed, not knowing just how bad I needed it until I had it again.

We found ourselves talking amongst one another for what felt like forever as the morning slowly ticked by. There was simply too much to say, too much to fill in of the events that happened during the long and hopeless weeks. It felt like a breath of fresh air, having someone listen to you so intently when you could've sworn that these thoughts and feelings you brought up were pointless after feeling so small for so long.

Our voices didn't quiet down until we noticed almost everyone was slowly starting to wake now, knowing we would surely have to get a move on soon. My eyes looked around as they scattered, slowly packing their things and overhearing the hushed conversations, my gaze eventually catching sight of Rick. He was already looking toward me, his brows furrowed slightly in worry as if there was a silent question he was projecting across the space between us. I could read it clear as day.

My only response was a simple smile, assuring him that I was just fine. And that alone seemed to take some of the weight off his shoulders, nodding back toward me subtly, the exchange being for our eyes only.

But the peaceful moment was quickly cut shorter than I would've liked as the barn doors creaked loudly when they opened once more, my head tilting up a bit to see who entered the space. I assumed it was only Maggie and Sasha coming back inside considering how long they had been out. But what I didn't expect was to see a man trailing behind them, Daryl and I trading only one look before we both jumped up to our feet.

"Everyone...this is Aaron." Maggie announced.

The group perked up at the unfamiliar name, the sound of guns loading filling the air after her voice traveled around, finding myself instinctively aiming my weapon at the man as well.

I fell in line beside Rick while Daryl brushed past everyone else to look out the barn doors, sticking his head outside to glance around and make sure no one else lingered there from what he could see. I aimed my gun right at the man's head, but I didn't feel any type of fear, silently knowing I would kill him in a split second if he tried anything. My only question was why? Why the fuck did they bring him back here? Clearly, we had learned nothing from recent events.

"We met him outside, he's by himself." Maggie assured with raised hands.

"We took his weapons, and his gear." Sasha added.

I saw the two women gesturing and talking from the corner of my eye, but I never took my stare off the stranger in front of us. Everyone remained dead silent, watching as Daryl shut the wooden doors with a slam before swiftly turning around to pat him down, making sure he didn't have any hidden things under his clothes. Though in the end he didn't find anything, letting out a huff as he stepped back, watching him like a hawk. The man himself felt the tension in the room, his eyes looking all of us over a bit fearfully. Watching as he slowly became more intimidated.

"Hi," Aaron breathed, "It's nice to meet you." he greeted while attempting to take a step forward, only for Rick to send him a glare which ultimately kept him in place.

"You said he had a weapon?" Rick asked Maggie.

She nodded silently before stepping over towards him to hand over the small gun, Rick examining it in his hands for a moment before placing it behind his back, "Is there something you need?" he asked.

"He has a camp nearby. He wants us to audition for membership." Sasha informed.

I furrowed my brows, "Audition?" I asked in disbelief.

His head turned as soon as he heard me speak, "I- I wish there was another word for it. Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of a dance troupe...that's only on Friday nights." he attempted to joke, laughing lightly at his own words. But no one else followed, and he seemed to realize he was dealing with a pretty tough crowd.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "And uh, it's not a camp. It's a community. And I think you all would make valuable additions. But it's not my call, my job is to convince you all to follow me back home."

I couldn't shake the anxious feeling that formed in my stomach that this was an awful lot like when a murder tries to get a child to hop in his van because he said he had candy. The way he worded things wasn't very convincing to me. And Rick beginning to tense from beside me only caused my nerves to grow.

"I know, if I were you I wouldn't go either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into..." Aaron assured before looking behind him, "Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack?"

She stared at him for a moment before reaching down to pick up his bag from the ground, walking over to Rick and handing it over, "In the front pocket there's an envelope. There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community, that's why I brought those."

Rick opened it up, revealing the many pieces of paper inside that he easily started to look through. I dared to take my eyes off the man momentarily to glance over his shoulder to see what it was for myself, my eyes scanning multiple photographs of the community he was supposedly talking about. And he would not shut up.

"I apologize in advance for the picture quality, we just found an old camera store-"

"Nobody gives a shit." Daryl muttered.

Aaron looked over his shoulder at him with a nervous nod, "You're absolutely one hundred percent right." he spoke, my eyes still trained down to then see a picture of the front gates. "That's the first thing I wanted to show you. Because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe. If you join us...you will be."

He kept going on and on about the thick walls and how nothing got through them without their say so, which was total bullshit. Even if nothing has gotten through thus far, it will. It always does.

I began to slowly tune out his voice while scanning each and every one of the images that Rick thumbed through, noticing the fact that he didn't seem to be listening to him either. The moment he hit the end of the somewhat endless pictures, he looked down at me, as if silently asking my opinion on what to do with this guy. I glanced back to see him still rambling, my mind racing as I thought of what answer to give.

I wasn't sure if we were ready to take another risk like this, and we sure as hell didn't have it in us to lose anyone else. I didn't want to deal with strangers, and judging by how big this place looked, there was going to be a lot of new people surrounding us constantly. I didn't want to go through it all over again.

My eyes panned back up to Rick's face, seeing him still waiting expectantly for any kind of indication of what I was thinking. I simply shook my head at him. And apparently that was the only answer he needed. He instantly turned to begin to walk up toward the man without a second thought, Aaron still seeming a bit unphased by the man approaching him in record speed. But before he could even blink, he fell back onto the ground harshly after Rick laid him on his ass with one single punch. It was then and only then I lowered my gun, seeing that he was passed out cold.

Everyone seemed utterly unphased with Rick's actions, except for Maggie and Sasha who quickly lowered themselves onto the ground next to him. The two looked him over carefully as they laid him down flat on his back, Daryl walking back over to search him once more just in case.

Michonne's voice sounded quietly from behind me, looking over my shoulder to see her slightly scolding Rick for what he did, seeming to believe the talk of the community. I couldn't blame her in the slightest for wanting to have hope, but everything he was spitting out almost seemed too good to be true. Rick's thoughts seemed to match mine as he didn't listen to her protests for very long, before his paranoia slipped through the cracks of the walls he attempted to build.

"We need eyes in every direction, they're coming for us." he announced, "We might not know how or when...but they are."

Maggie looked over at him in slight shock, "Sasha and I didn't even see him out there, if he wanted to hurt us he could've." she stated firmly.

But Rick ignored her, "Anyone see anything?"

"Just a lot of places to hide." Glenn muttered as he leaned further towards the small space in between the doors, squinting to try and see better into the distance.

I moved from my place, passing the few people in my way so I could come up next to him and see where he was looking. Rick demanded we keep an eye out with a slight panic in his voice and I did just that, scanning through the forest ahead of us to try and make out anything. Though I couldn't really see much from how far away we seemed to be, and who knows how many people he could potentially have out there with him.

"You see something I'm not?" Glenn asked in a hushed tone.

I shook my head, "No, nothing...we might actually have to go out there to try and find where his people are."

"If  he has any people." he clarified.

My head turned to look at him, squinting my eyes a bit while I gestured to the man still lying a few feet from us, "You can't look me in the eye and honestly tell me that this man right here, is alone out there. The guy looks like a grown eagle scouts' member for Christ's sake."

He blinked at the accuracy before his eyes settled on the ground instead, his silence alone telling me I had a point. I huffed softly to myself while glancing back outside for another moment, only to hear the man behind me suddenly laugh a little as he slowly came to.

I whipped back around to face him again, pulling out my gun to aim at his head from behind before he had the chance to get up, earning a look of disapproval from Maggie. She slowly shook her head at my actions, but I just shook my head back at her, telling her I wasn't budging.

"That's a hell of a right cross there Rick." he complimented groggily as his eyes surely still felt heavy.

Rick gestured with his hand, "Sit him up."

Maggie and Michonne moved to his aid, grasping his arms to help him up as he responded, "You're being cautious... I completely understand-"

"How many of your people are out there?" Rick asked harshly. The man hesitated to answer. "You have a flare gun to signal your people, so how many of them are there?" he asked again.

Aaron sighed, "Does it matter?"

I scoffed, "What the hell do you mean does it matter? Of course it does."

His head snapped back towards me, the end of my gun now right between his eyes as he spoke again, "I- I mean, of course it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there?"

My eyes narrowed at him, my patience thinning as he continued to speak, "Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say...eight, thirty-two, four hundred and forty-four, zero. No matter what I say you're not going to trust me."

"Well, it's hard to trust anybody who smiles after getting punched in the face." I pointed out as I loaded a bullet into the chamber.

He swallowed a bit thickly, "How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you on the road?"

My heart stopped for a moment as I moved closer to press the gun up against the side of his head, causing him to laugh nervously, "How long you people been followin us?" my husband's voice cut through the thick silence.

Aaron glanced over at him, "Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail. Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water you never turned on each other. And long enough to see two people having a heart to heart after going through what seems like a whole lot." he finished, looking directly up to me.

His words only surprised be further, how much information he seemed to hold. But I didn't dare allow him to see how his words seemed to affect me. "You're survivors," he continued, "And you're people. Like I said- and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again, that is the most important resource in the world."

There was a long silence that followed and it seemed like we weren't getting many answers that we wanted, just answers that he wanted us to hear. I for one was getting sick of him rambling on and on, my frustration growing as I pressed the gun further into his temple to grab his attention.

When his eyes met mine, once again I asked, "How many others are out there?" my tone cold and demanding.

He sighed shakily before finally answering, "One."

I looked up instinctively to find Rick's face in the mix of the others, seeing him shaking his head at me as he copied my actions from earlier, telling me he didn't trust it one bit. Aaron looked between Rick and I, the wheels turning in his head at our silent conversation, "I knew you wouldn't believe me...if it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real?"

No one answered his question, but a lightbulb seemed to appear in his head and he sat up a little straighter, disregarding the gun I still had to his head, "What if I drove you to the community?"

"No." I said immediately.

"Hey," Rick said to get my attention and held his hand out to stop me from talking, "I'm not sure how the sixteen of us are going to fit in a car you and your one friend drove down here in."

"We drove separately." he stated, "If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home, there's enough room for all of us."

"And you're parked just a couple miles away?" Carol asked.

"East on ridge road just after you hit Route 16." Aaron informed, "We wanted to get closer but then the storm came and blocked the road. We couldn't clear it."

"Yeah, you've really thought this through." Rick muttered still in disbelief.

Aaron sighed, "Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here. You know light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit...you can trust me." His eyes then moved back over to me, "And you don't have to keep a gun to my head, I won't try anything." he assured in a soft tone.

"Look at my face." I snapped.

His eyes immediately scanned my features, noticing his attention being drawn to the one thing I wanted him to see. What I wanted him to remember. I gestured towards the prominent scars, "This right here...is what happened the last time I let my guard down for a split second...so I think I'm good."

His eyes widened a little, but he didn't break eye contact as he slowly nodded, "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

His compassion threw me off a little, but I still didn't back down. I could feel everyone tense a little at the sensitive subject, and no one knew what to say next. Their minds were all racing on what to do, but I already knew my vote; we weren't going anywhere. None of us were ready to trust people again.

"I'll go check out the cars." Michonne announced, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that fell.

"There aren't any cars." Rick spoke lowly.

"There's only one way to find out." she argued.

"We don't need to find out." he said quickly without missing a beat.

She took a step closer to him, "We do." she assured, a beat of silence passing before she continued, "You know what you know and you're sure of it...I'm not."

"Me neither." Maggie chimed in.

An unsettling feeling washed over me as I looked at the two of them in disbelief, slowly raising to my full height again and taking the gun away from Aaron's head in the process, "Hold on...have you guys forgotten the last time we tried to join a community, because I haven't."

The room was silent again as I continued to move forward towards them, "Hell, I wasn't even there and I remember how fucked up that shit was, what if this is the same thing? Do we really want to take that risk?"

"I would." Aaron piped in from behind me.

My face dropped as I turned around slowly again to face him, "Does it look like I was talking to you?"

His mouth clamped shut again, looking down toward the ground to avoid my eyes which caused a satisfied hum to escape me before I turned back to face the others. "All I'm staying is this is a big risk, and quite frankly I don't know if I'm willing to take it."

"No, we're doing this," Sasha argued, "We aren't going to let your one bad feeling ruin it for the rest of us...it's not our fault you have trust issues."

Her words cut through me like a knife as I instinctively stepped closer to her, but her hand flying towards her gun in her holster caused me to pause, my eyes traveling to it cautiously. I scoffed to myself as my eyes met hers again, continuing to slowly step closer to her, ignoring the protests of Rick from just behind my head. I didn't stop until I practically right in her face, tilting my head with narrowed eyes at the silent threat she had just made.

"Go ahead." I spoke.

She didn't meet my gaze, she simply couldn't because of her all bark no bite attitude, yet her hand didn't move either. I lowered my head a bit so she would finally look me in the eye and when I got her attention, I spoke again.

"Do it." I challenged.

I watched as her jaw clenched a few times before finally removing her hand and staying in place with her head hung low. She was really going to shoot me over a disagreement? Fuck this bitch.

I nodded my head with a scoff and backed away from her before I did something I regretted, feeling a hand on my shoulder turning me around. I came face to face with Rick as he tried to get my attention, clearly trying to prevent a fight from breaking out as he pulled me away from her.

"It wouldn't hurt to check out." Rick admitted quietly, his hand giving my shoulder a squeeze as if a silent plea not to freak out.

My eyes widened in shock, "You're kidding."

He shook his head, "If it's safe, we have nothing to worry about. We could send a group to check it out."

"And what happened to not believing this asshole five seconds ago?"

He sighed, "I'm thinking of Judith...and Carl...If this place is real and it's safe, the kids could have a life there...right?"

He knew damn well what he was doing by bringing the kids into this and it was working. Of course I knew that they both needed somewhere to grow up, not just the random shelter we found here and there, but an actual gated place. A safe place. One that they wouldn't have to be constantly watching their backs for the potential danger.

Which is the only reason why I found myself slowly nodding my head, "Okay...fine. But I'm going with that group to check the cars."

"Hell no you ain't." Daryl quickly stepped in upon hearing my assertiveness.

"I want to see for myself." I gently argued, "It'll help convince me that this is actually real...please."

He didn't get much of a chance to respond before Glenn spoke up, "I'll go too."

"Me too." Maggie offered.

I smiled at them in appreciation before looking over towards Abraham. As soon as we made eye contact, he nodded in agreement, "I'll walk with 'em." he stated while loading his gun.

Rick squeezing my shoulder caused me to look at him again, "Be safe." he said seriously.

"I will." I promised, pulling him in for a quick hug.

Once we broke away, I walked over to my bag to grab a few extra arrows, purposefully avoiding Daryl who clearly didn't like the fact that I was joining the others for the little quest. But I had all the badasses coming with me so I knew we would be fine no matter what happened. Though I knew he wouldn't let me leave without getting at least a few words in, and to no surprise, he was standing just behind me when I finally turned back around.

"Yes?" I asked sweetly, trying to butter him up at least a little.

He grumbled a little at my tone, "I don't like that yer goin out there..."

I sighed, "Yeah, well it's not up to you. Plus, I've always been able to handle myself fine, you know that better than anyone." I said as I adjusted the weapons on my frame.

He nodded, "I know...but that don't mean I gotta like it."

I smiled a little at him and stepped forward to leave a small kiss on his cheek, before pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and cradled the back of my head with one of his rough hands, kissing the side of it tenderly.

"Stay safe, ya hear me?" he muttered into my hair.

I nodded, "You too."

And just like that, we were off.

The small group we formed walked further and further away from the others in comfortable silence, taking the opportunity to let my mind wander a bit. I wanted to trust this guy. If I was being honest, he seemed genuine, and the pictures looked to be real. But then again people had become insanely dangerous, and risks were something that this group didn't do very often with every good reason you could imagine behind it.

I wanted this place to be real so badly but I almost didn't want to admit it out loud as if it would somehow jinx it. All of us deserved a safe place to rest our heads at night and eat a decent meal, but especially the kids. I wanted this place to be real for them. I wanted them to be able to grow up in a good environment, not one that was filled with fear. We had all been through so much, practically hell and back, that I felt we earned this.

Maybe this would be it. And I guess we were all about to find out.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[araybiaaa]

Can you do something where rafe gets into a fight for Sofia because someone said something about her, and after the fight Sofia is cleaning his hands. ( I ABSOLUTELY LOVE EVERYTHING YOU WRITE!!)

“𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖”

rafe x sofia

THE night started off innocent.

They were at Topper’s house that was loitered with at least a hundred people; all of whom were either inebriated or on the precipice of being so. The herbal stench of weed lingered in the air and it’s so thick that she coughs and wafts a hand over her nose when they pass by the group of stoners.

Rafe’s fingers intertwining with hers and gently tugging her in tow is what helps Sofia navigate through the crowd of bodies flooding through the hallway. She feels some semblance of relief when they walk into the kitchen that’s not nearly filled to the brim with people as the living room and backyard is.

Releasing her hand, Rafe saunters over to the beer keg and grabs himself a red solo cup. “You want some?” He offers, pulling down the keg’s knob as the frothy, brewed beverage filled to the rim of his cup.

Sofia shakes her head, declining his offer. “No. I’m okay.”

Rafe nods as he brings his cup up to his mouth and takes a large swig of the drink. “You cool if I go talk to a few people?”

Truthfully, Sofia didn’t want him to leave her alone. Aside from Topper and Kelce, she didn’t know anyone here and it’s not as if anyone made an effort in trying to make conversation with her either.

Anytime they came to these parties, she’s always met with the gazes of a group of girls who would stare at her with looks of repugnance and irritation marring their features. She knows that their jealousy derives from their bewilderment that a kook of such high stature would be seen with a pogue—and that she was the only girl that Rafe’s ever publicly claimed while the others in his past were subjected to being occasional hookups.

(They all hated Sofia, but also wanted to be her. She found it all sardonically ironic in a way.)

Sofia’s never vocalized any of these issues to Rafe, simply because she knows how he is. He wouldn’t hesitate to confront anyone over her and as much as she appreciates his chivalry, she didn’t want him getting involved into anything because of her especially at one of his friend’s houses.

So, she pursed her lips in a feeble smile and nodded her head as she encouraged him to seek after his friends. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She says, in which he only gives her an indiscernible look and parts his mouth like he’s about to question her against it.

“Yo, Cameron!” The clamorous bellow of one of Rafe’s friends beckoning him from the living room interrupts their conversation. They both turn around to see his friend accompanied by two other guys, gesturing for Rafe. Beer spilled out of their cups as they staggered drunkenly towards Rafe, earning a few annoyed glances from the other partygoers.

“Cameron!” The guy extends his arm around Rafe’s shoulder, his body weight’s alleviated off of his two other friends who hefted him in tow, as he now leans his drunken weight onto Rafe. “Dude, where the hell have you been all night?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, though in a playful nature. “I just got here. How the hell are you drunk already? The party just started an hour ago!”

The guy guffaws, “How are you not drunk?” He chastised, his glassy eyes avert their attention on Sofia. He smiles impishly as he pats a hand against Rafe’s chest. “This guy used to be a hellraiser. He knew how to party! He’d be doing shots, snorting lines with us in the bathroom—”

“Alright, alright.” Rafe interrupts, looking slightly chagrined by the mention of his old drug habits.

Sofia was well aware of Rafe’s past. He’d confessed everything to her in a moment’s vulnerability—admitting that it started off as him occasionally indulging in it, but then he felt himself starting to have a penchant for it. Luckily, he stopped well before it developed into an addiction.

“—now he’s just standing over here in the corner and sipping on his fuckin’ beers like he doesn’t know us anymore.” The guy clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, making a tsk-ing sound as he shook his head and wagged an accusatory finger at Sofia. “I think you turned him soft! Look at him!”

Rafe rolls his eyes again, though this time it’s sans of the playfulness that it once had. “I’m not fucking soft, alright?” He accents, nudging the guy’s arm off of his shoulder. “And don’t fucking talk to her.”

At the sudden shift in Rafe’s demeanor, the guy guffaws again, seemingly undaunted by Rafe’s forewarning. He raised his hands in the air in mock defense, feigning an offensive reproach. “Woah! Never thought I’d live to see the day that you would defend a pogue.” The word emanates out of his mouth in disgust—almost like a slur as he spat at the prospect in bewilderment.

And the way his eyes narrow in Sofia’s direction makes her cower away. Rafe takes immediate notice of this and moves away from his friend to approach her. “Hey, you okay?” His eyes soften in worry as he looks at her; he shakes his head, sighing softly. “You know what, let’s just go home.”

“Look at this. You are soft.” The guy condemns, continuing his antagonizing remarks. “Rafe Cameron, number one kook defending a pogue. She must be a real good fuck.” He taunts, turning his attention back on Sofia.

Before she even has the opportunity to react to his demeaning comments, Rafe’s turning around and curling his hands into a clenched fist. In one haste motion—Rafe’s fist connects to the side of the guy’s jaw, the sound ricochets so loudly that it catches the attention of everyone inside of the room. The guy yawps, his body staggers as he recoils from the hit.

Sofia gasps, her eyes immediately avert on Rafe whose face is narrowed in a scowl. The guy groans groggily, cupping his hand over his swollen jaw as he looked up at Rafe in bewilderment. “What the fuck is your issue? It was a fucking joke!” He rebuttals, clicking his jaw as the pain throbbed.

The room stilled, falling into complete silence as they watched the fight.

“Say something else about her and I’ll fucking kill you,” Sofia turns to see someone holding a phone up as they recorded Rafe’s threat. Knowing that she needed to get him out of there before the situation worsened, she stopped towards him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Rafe, I think we should go,”

The guy chuckles wryly, nodding his head as he licked the smear of blood that fell from his lip. With the attention focused on them, it seemed as if the guy was suddenly enticed by it which prompted him to continue his antagonizing. He glanced around the room at the cameras, smiling. “Yeah, Rafe. Listen to your bitch and leave cause no one wants you here. Especially after you’ve been slumming it up with this dirty pogue,”

And any restraint that Rafe once had seemingly dissipates because now he’s lunging toward him—connecting his fist against the swollen side of his jaw again this time with more force and speed. His head lolls to the side, audible gasps fill the room as they all watched Rafe’s onslaught. He’s unrelenting with his punches, the guy’s body staggers again and this time he falls backwards to the floor with a loud thud.

The partygoers all move back as he falls limply at their feet.

“Rafe!” Sofia says, her voice shaking a bit at the sudden escalation. Panic arises within her and it only worsens when she notices blood dripping off of Rafe’s bruised knuckles. She’s briefly worried that he’s hurt, but then she realizes that it wasn’t Rafe’s blood.

The guy was sprawled out on the floor, blood pooled around his limp body. His face was maimed; already turning a deep mauve color from the cusps of Rafe’s hardened fists.

It’s Topper and Kelce running their way towards the commotion that diverts Rafe’s attention. “Bro, bro, bro. Hey, he’s down, alright?” Kelce says, resting a hand on Rafe’s shoulder that he shrugs off.

“Maybe you should—”

“Don’t worry we’re leaving,” Rafe says, interrupting Topper before he has the opportunity to kick them out. He sees the guy’s friends crouch down to the floor to aid his injury. Rafe glanced down at him briefly, looking around the room at the shocked expressions, completely undaunted.

He pushes through Topper and Kelce so that he’s able to reach Sofia. He grabs her hand and intertwined their fingers before he lead them to the front door.

The car ride back home was silent.

Rafe would turn his head; whether it be at a red light or a stop sign to try to gauge Sofia’s expression. But her attention was cemented on the road ahead of her, avoiding his gaze.

And Rafe couldn’t help but the wonder if he’d scared her. He knows Sofia wasn’t a confrontational person and she preferred pacifism over violence. Did she think his reaction was too extreme?

He didn’t mean to scare her.

He just acted out of impulse.

He couldn’t stand to listen to the hurtful words and remarks that Logan was saying about her. He didn’t care that at one point in time, Logan had been one of his best friends all throughout high school; Rafe wouldn’t allow anyone to disrespect Sofia especially in front of him.

He didn’t feel one inkling of remorse for what he did to Logan; but he does worry that it altered Sofia’s perception of him. Did this just prove the rumors that have been circulating for years about him being violent? Did his act of chivalry just inadvertently ruin his relationship?

“Sit down. I’ll go get a washcloth for you,” Sofia avers once they’re back at the house. It’s the first words she’s spoken to him since the party. And his heart pathetically lurches at the sound of her voice.

(Fuck. Maybe Logan’s right. He is soft.)

He’s docile of her commands and plops down onto the cushioned sofa. He glances down at his knuckles that were now purple and stained with dried blood. His eyes lift at the sound of her gait as she approached; they continued to follow her movements as she crouches down in front of him.

She settles comfortably in between his legs before reaching for his hand. It throbs and aches from the bruising, but he absentmindedly disregards the pain, as his only focus is on her. She’s still not looking at him. Her eyes are attentive as they scrubbed the blood off of his hands. And when he notices the slightly tremor of her hand, guilt gnaws at him at the heartbreaking realization that his fear had just been confirmed.

She’s scared of him.

A wetness burns in the back of Rafe’s eyes as he swallows down the lump that clogged in his throat. “Sof,” His own voice trembles, sounding completely wrecked in his plead. She finally looks up at him at the murmur of her name falling off of his lips.

He would never apologize for defending her, but for scaring her? He’d spend an eternity trying to make up for it if he had to.

Rafe’s taken aback when Sofia lunges forward and embraces him in a hug. She wraps her arms around his neck, holding him closely against her body. He melts into the embrace, burying his face in her neck as he holds her.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” He laments in apology.

Against him, Sofia shakes her head. “No, don’t be. I’m just glad that you’re okay.” She assures him, rubbing her hand against his back in a comforting gesture.

“So, I didn’t—I didn’t scare you?” At this, Sofia’s hands stop its undulating movements as she retracted from the embrace to look at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his question. He shrugs, lowering his eyes. “I thought that maybe you seeing me like that made you think of me like how everyone else on the island does. Like, like I’m this violent and bad person—”

Sofia’s aghast by his very false assumption.

She shakes her head, reaching her hand up to cradle his face within her grasp. Her heart nearly breaks at the despondent expression marring his features. “I don’t think that, Rafe. I’m not scared of you, okay? I love you.” She says it with such sincerity that it assuages his worries almost immediately.

“Yeah?”

She nods, brushing her thumbs over his high cheekbones. “Yeah.”

He exhaled a shaky breath of relief as he leaned closer into her embrace. “I love you, too. So fucking much,” He says, resting his forehead against hers as his mouth tentatively hovered over hers, seeking out a kiss.

Sofia decimates the space between them and brushes her lips against his; kissing him slow and full of vigor. When they pull apart, she smiles a little shyly up at him. “I don’t condone violence but I will admit it was pretty hot seeing you kick that guy’s ass.”

Rafe chuckles, leaning forward again as he pecked chaste kisses against her lips. “Yeah?”

[razorblade180]

Feast of Pursuit pt2

[Day 5]

It was a massacre. There had been abyss domains throughout the adventures of Aether and his friends that had brought them all to their knees outside the portal. This however, might be the first time an event brought such hopeless.

Countless pyro, hell, numerous support and multiple captains of teams laid along the ground utterly battered and bruised. Even Aether himself got a glimpse of what terror was on day 5.

Aether:That turtle has to fucking die.

Tighnari:HOW!? We can have the power but lack the defense! We can gain the defense but lack the power!

Yanfei:Can anyone explain to me how hydro is completely ineffective against an electric shield, but not the other way around!? It’s limiting so much options!

Klee:I don’t wanna play anymore…

Emilie:It struck me from across the field.

Dehya:It tore through my defenses.

Kokomi:It tore through my health! My health! I don’t want to brag but I’m pretty sturdy.

Zhongli:It broke my shield in seconds. Aether, I don’t this one is possible.

Yoimiya:I can’t feel my fingers. Hehe, training with the Raiden Shogun doesn’t feel this electrifying.

Lyney:I don’t want to be that person, but I can think of one person who probably would’ve made this a little easier.

Hu Tao:*sits up*….Aether, I have permission to go ask anyone for help, right?

Aether:Yep. If it’s possible.

Hu Tao:Time to go back to older days.

xxxxx

Hu Tao:*opens door* Hello my old partner in crime. I require your assistance!

Jean:…*closes book* You must be desperate. Is it an Electro Lector?

Hu Tao:It’s much worse. You have to keep everyone alive this time. It might take multiple attempts and you might even want to give up halfway through but-

Jean:Let’s go. You never ask for a healer, so I know this means a lot to you. *walks off* How out of the box is the plan?

Hu Tao:You’re familiar with the setup.

xxxxx

As a funeral director with sacred rites passed down, the essence of death was more familiar to Hu Tao than most people. Even so, rarely was it ever pushed to the limit for too long.

What attempt was this? Five? Fifteen? She lost track. In fact, she wasn’t really keeping track of anything anymore. Movements had become second nature, a torturous yet necessary muscle memory. Lightning called for her demise, but wind pushed away from the brink. Flames ate het vitality while granting her strength and renewing vigor to be eaten away yet again for the sake of power. Again and again, her body was guided by butterflies through the numbing chaos until…

Jean:HU TAO!

A strong shake jolted her out of the flow state she found. The funeral director looked over her shoulder to see Jean gripping Homa to prevent another swing. She was utterly exhausted to the point her hair was undone. The arms of Bennet and Furina held her body tightly in place; both of them were drenched in sweat and elemental energy just like she was from the attacks. Hu Tao finally looked ahead to see the turtle completely limp.

Hu Tao:Oh…it’s dead.*drops to knees* Thank goodness.

Time- 2 minutes and 28 seconds.

xxxxxx

Hu Tao:*face down* Lyney? My humble magician?

Lyney:Yes?

Hu Tao:I say this with respect; you never need to wish your Father was around when you can rely on me.

Lyney:You did this to prove a point!?

Hu Tao: I tend not to take these things too seriously, but Aether and so many others put their time into making me feel strong and dependable. I’m never going to betray those acts of kindness. Crowns aren’t just for show.

Chongyun:And every day you earn yours. *pats head* Good hustle.

Hu Tao:It was a team effort. When in doubt, Sunfire it out. Not to mention a very dedicated actress who knows how to fill a role.

Furina:I want a vacation!! I could sleep forever!

[Day 6]

Aether:Hey. How’s-

Ei:I can kill it.

Aether:….

Ei:We’ve had our ups and downs in the past, but Aether, I can kill this fungal beast. The Terrashroom barely hangs on but I know my strikes will find its mark. My chosen companions have no flaws that k can’t cover; all we need is a bit more power. I am not one to beg or plead, but I am asking you to put your faith in my blade. Let me strike down our enemies.

Aether:…It’s been a long time coming. I believe you. *pulls out crown* Give them hell.

xxxxx

Perfection is impossible, yet if there’s anyone who could get close, it’s the Raiden Shogun. Before fanfare could die, luck could run out, or music could end, Ei’s blade called for another seamless rotation to prolong the battles’s perfomance until it was the enemy that could no longer go on. Ei, feeling the mental fatigue, sighed as she put away her blade.

Time- 2 minutes and 28 seconds

Ei:Well done everyone. A flawless show of our abilities.

Yelan:I think I might hate this event.

Furina:*on her hands and knees* You and I both. There’s such thing as being too popular!

Xilonen:The three of us make a pretty decent core apparently. *sits down* Can’t say I don’t like it, but yeah, this attention sure is demanding.

Ei:I apologize. This formation was easily the most efficient to deal with this enemy.

Xilonen:Oh don’t apologize. Happy to help. *lays down* Ugh, I need a nap.

xxxxx

Aether:Good job everyone. The Teapot has freshly prepared food and the hot springs are in full effect. You should all feel proud. May we continue to get stronger as a team and individuals! *pumps fist*

Everyone:*pumps fist* To progress!

[Day 4, revisited]

Time- 2 minutes and 29 seconds

Xilonen:How did I let you talk me back into this?

Furina:Navia was really bummed out. I can’t say no to her requests. Even if she herself isn’t quite up for the challenge, she at least wanted to see it was achievable. Isn’t helping friends part of the job?

Yelan:Just admit you have a crush. It’s more admirable. It’s settled, I’m requesting time off. I don’t our ambitious leader has a problem with that.

Hu Tao:Zzzzz

Xilonen:This girl is kinda nuts. Not the strongest person I’ve met, but she comes out swinging faster and harder than most.

Yelan:Yep. Raw power is kinda her thing. It’s consistent and consistently reckless. You get used to it.

Xilonen:…So who’s Arlecchino.

Hu Tao:*sits up* Don’t worry about it. *lays back down* Zzzzz

Yelan:She woke up just for that!?

Furina:I respect it deeply.