#and add it. but i listened to it and loved it:)

[tddyhyck]

Tuesday [ l. dh ]

pairings ⇢ bf!hyuck x reader x mark x jeno x jaemin x jisung

warnings ⇢ 18+ free use, common hole, urinal, mind break, pet names: pup(py), papa, oppa, baby, mean names: too long to list, lowkey stockholm syndrome, shibari, all the bodily fluids, hairy bush, toys, body writing as humiliation, dumbifiction, odd relationship dynamics, nipple clamps, various sex toys, breeding, implied sterilization???, smell kink, bathroom sex, bukkake, watersports (piss drinking, golden showers, pissing inside), cum, spit, and piss as lube, edging, overstimulation, mentioned - object insertion, pussy inspection

word count ⇢ 13.7k

a/n ⇢ this is utterly filthy hehe i forgot to add the link to the pic that inspired this!! not sure the original source i reversed image searched and picked the oldest but alas ANYWAYS ,,

masterlist - ao3 - inspo image

the familiar sound of the alarm breaks the silence of the room and fills your tummy with excitement. you sit on stained sheets looking at hyuck still snuggled up in his covers. reaching over and petting his face softly, as his eyes flutter open. 

“what a good view,” he sighs, looking up at your waiting eyes. stretching from his nap, he reaches around for his phone, turning the alarm off. “are you excited?”

“unhuh, i love Tuesday,” you grin bouncing on your knees making the bed creak. he pulls you to him squeezing you to his chest ass in the air and you breath deeply his musk filling your nose. it felt like a lifetime between now and last Tuesday. 

“you’re so soft. how about we cancel and i just sleep some more and you get to be my pillow,” he holds you closer. 

“oppaaaa,” you whine, kicking your legs in defiance. “it’s Tuesday, we can’t skip Tuesday.”

“i guess you’re right. they wouldn’t be too happy huh?” he tips your chin reaching to kiss your cheek. he pulls you on top of him tugging at the shirt you wear. one of his, stained a strange yellow color. he drags a hand from your face down your chest pressing the fabric over you. tensing as his hand soothes over the bulge in your tummy. 

“such a good listener,” he comments, poking at the tight skin. you whimper leaning over grabbing his arms for support. “what’s wrong pup?”

“just,” you sigh, shaking your head, gathering yourself. “so full. been waiting all day.”

“yeah? drinking all your glasses?” he squints looking at the white board beside his computer. your name with tally marks beside it one for each of the glasses of water you’ve had. you nod bouncing on him, liking the way his soft cock mushes against your covered center.

“i even had one more,” grinning holding up a finger. he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“hmmm, you must have to go really bad huh?” he asks, both hands soothing your tummy now. soft pressure against your bursting bladder makes you tense again. 

“oppa, please, i want to hold it more, it feels so good,” you whimper, head hanging down as your hand rubs over your cunt trying to keep everything in. 

“you’re so gross,” his familiar comment makes your heart swell and face heat. “such a filthy little head for such a pretty girl.” he pokes at your forehead. 

“just so,” you can’t fully describe how it feels. the push against your bladder, the tickle it makes you feel between your legs. he watches you try to explain the feeling going on in your tummy and between your legs, but your head is mushy. 

“i know,” he knows all too well. you still have a hand rubbing over your panties soft circles you don’t realize you're making. he lifts your shirt to watch you, a large wet spot already making the fabric transparent. he rubs over your panties a bow at your waist curly hairs peeking out. 

“what have you been doing while i was sleeping?”

“just watching you,” you sigh. “played some, but i kept getting stuck in the water and it made it so hard so i had to turn it off. finished drinking all my water. made some snacks for you.”

“what else?”

“even rode my toy like you asked. but i didn’t cum i promise.” holding out a pinky he takes it with his own. leaning over him you grab your phone scrolling to the video you took just 15 minutes ago. he reaches for it, turning the volume up and watching. 

you sit shyly hearing yourself whine and your pussy squelch as he smiles at the screen. watching your toes curling around the base as you ride the cock made just like his a silicone copy for you to stuff yourself with.

you’d been so shaky trying to hold back your bladder and your orgasm as you leaned over your face pressed to the seat of hyuck’s sticky gaming chair. the smell of old release filling your nose making you drool into the fabric. 

“my girl,” he coos sliding his finger under your moving hand curling it to tickle your clit.

“didn’t even wake you up or anything,” you swell with pride. you wonder how long the video is, you don’t even remember. the push of the tip hitting your bladder made you sit fully on the toy grinding needy hips for more.

you could feel his soft cock growing against you not even realizing you relax into the touch but not before your eyes shoot open whining as you remember your full bladder.

“mmmm what is it?” you don’t respond, moving your hips and pushing your clit against his lazy finger. his chubby cock rubs against your thigh, you want to touch him, have him in your mouth while he tells you to let go all you’ve been holding but it’s Tuesday. 

“c'mon pretty, we've gotta get you all set up huh?” he pulls away tossing your phone to the side as the video still plays and you slide off of him not before he can lay a slap on your ass.

you follow him obediently and he walks down the hall and opens the bathroom, not the one in your shared room but the one beside the kitchen. the door creaks open, its only use happening on Tuesday. the floor is cold and the same tools are on the counter, shelves still full with things. 

“now or later?” he looks at you. you already know what he’s asking. 

“can i have it twice?” you pout up at him. eyes big and lips bigger reaching to tug at his shirt. he really can’t resist. 

“since you had extra water i guess you deserve a little reward.” you scramble to your knees the moment he agrees, excitement on your face. 

“such an eager puppy. been waiting for it?” you nod, opening your mouth greedily. “how do you want your treat?”

“can i hold you please,” you bounce on your knees, hand reaching for his shorts. he nods, hand cupping your cheek and you snuggle into his touch. you slither up the leg of his shorts, usually you’d pull them down but you want to be a little different. he cocks a brow at you watching you push the fabric up bunching around his soft cock. 

you can’t resist pushing your face to him breathing deeply to smell him. nosing at his balls you can’t help when your mouth drops open and your tongue slides over them. 

“hey hey, don’t get distracted.” he corrects you by slapping your cheek. you straighten your back pulling away. you think you could live in his crotch breathing his smell in all hours of the day. 

“sorry, oppa,” you apologize sweetly and his face softens. you tug at his soft cock pulling the foreskin back exposing the chubby head. you lean in licking your lips before kissing the tip. sticking your tongue out swirling under the foreskin greedily collecting the taste. he sighs when your lips wrap around the tip like a straw. he moans and you feel his hot piss start to dribble into your mouth. 

mouth vibrating around his tip when you whine at the taste. so bitter and familiar, filling your mouth quickly you swallow as more follows refilling your waiting hole. his hand rubs over your face pushing at your filling cheeks.

you pull away catching your breath letting the still flowing piss hit your chest in hot streams. more yellow stains start to form as he releases more and more and more. you lean back in, mouth open tongue flat accepting it all like a good little piss girl. 

“fuck,” he groans as the stream slows. still holding his chub in your hand letting the dribbles hit your tongue before swallowing. you pull him in your mouth again sucking and licking up the last of his liquid. you whine when it’s all gone missing the flavor already. he pulls your hair pulling you off of his soft cock tongue still trying to lap. 

“so greedy, still wanting more. don’t worry little pissy girl you’ll have some soon,” he leans over you pushing his own tongue into your mouth tasting the bitterness on your tongue. you moan at the thought soon you will have all the piss you can take. 

“let’s get you ready,” you let go of his cock and he holds your arms lifting you to your feet. he feels so safe. 

“let’s put your shirt here,” he lifts the wet shirt off of your skin. the fabric sticks, making your tits bounce as he pulls it over your head. he puts it on the floor in front of the toilet so it can collect all the things.

your toes wiggle in the now cooling piss that escaped your mouth. you want to be really gross and put your face to the floor and lick it all up. but hyuck said you don’t get to clean the floor until after Tuesday. 

“what’s got you so sticky?” he pulls the waistband of your panties away peeking at the slick sticking to your bush. 

“you know,” you don’t want to tell him everything you’ve been thinking about. he spits into your open panties before slapping them back on your skin, patting over his spit to mix with your slick. 

“do i?” he grins at you. 

“keep thinking about last Tuesday. so many of your friends came,” you whimper at the memory. 

“awww do you want more or less?” he tugs your panties down and you step out, feet pattering in the puddle. 

“mmmm,” you think as he shoves your panties into his pocket. 

“depends on who. i like-“ you pause, nervous to admit it. 

“no secrets tell me baby,” he holds your hips pulling you closer. 

“sometimes i like it more when it’s your friends. you know people i know. but sometimes i just like when they’re people i've never even met. it’s more i dunno.” you ramble and he nods at you. 

“what about this Tuesday? what mood are you in,” he tilts his head at you waiting for your answer. you lean into him sticky tits pressing to his shirt. 

“your friends,” you sigh into his neck. 

“you’re in for a treat then.” he pulls you away kissing your nose making your scrunch your face. “you even did your hair, didn't you?”

you nod shyly, turning away as your face warms. he twirls a pigtail around his finger. 

“gonna try something different tonight okay?” you nod. “need a yes or no okay.”

“yes please,” you grin at him. he pats your head before sitting you onto the cold toilet seat, the temperature sends a little shiver over the backs of your thighs. 

“let me see you,” he bends down and you spread your legs wide you hold your thighs as he peaks at your cunt.

“so wet.” he hisses, sliding a finger between your folds. you wiggle your butt trying to get closer to his touch. “such a pretty cunt.” his fingers continue spreading your lips to look at your waiting hole. he could just shove his fingers in you right now, you’re already open for him. 

“oppa,” he looks up at you. “you’re getting distracted.” repeating his words from earlier makes him smile. 

“sorry,” he pulls away, licking his fingers before standing back up. he grabs the stained rope from the counter.

“hold your arms up, baby. “you do as he says, dropping your thighs so you straddle the seat. the position makes you too comfortable, the muscle memory hitting you and you squeeze your legs together. he giggles at you and it makes your tummy flip. grabbing your hands gently as he wraps the rope around your wrists. 

“i think you’re going to like this position,” he says absentmindedly, focusing all his attention on the way the rope binds your wrists together. “so pretty and exposed.” your legs squeeze together tighter the push on your bladder not going away. 

“don’t leak baby,” he can already read your mind, see the way you tense and squirm. the rope is rough but soft from overuse. usually he keeps your arms pressed against your thighs and your knees bent. but the arms over your head make you wonder. 

“legs up baby,” you try to open your legs and lift them but the position presses against your bladder. tightening your muscles as your piss pushes and pushes and pushes. he holds your legs open shifting your ass nearer to the edge of the toilet seat.

settling his knees on your dirty shirt, face to your sticky cunt he begins wrapping your legs. thighs tightening as the rope binds around them, squeezing your skin. you get a little giddy thinking of the burns on your skin after it’s all over. your heart swells more watching all the work he is putting in, he loves you so much and takes such good care of you. 

“i love you,” you mumble dumbly. he smirks, still focusing on his work. 

“what’s got you spilling your guts?” he reaches a hand to pat your head. 

“just love you so much. oppa takes such good care of me. makes me pretty and happy and still likes my loose cunt.” 

“mmmm but you’re already so pretty for me,” you whine at his comment, heart growing in your chest. 

“love you,” you repeat, head soft and mushy with the feelings for him. 

“i love you, pretty baby,” he leans in, kissing your thigh sweetly before moving lower to wrap your ankles. you keep repeating i love you’s as you watch him. head growing dumber as he fixes you up. 

“now baby, listen to me,” you look up at him trying to focus. “if you wiggle or move your wrists too much it’s gonna get really tight.” you nod up at him ‘no wrist wiggling, check’.

“and if you tug a lot,” he pauses wanking the rope behind your wrist making your legs fold pushing your tummy. “like that, your legs are going to bend even more. then you’ll start dribbling and we don’t want you leaking just yet.” you shake you head agreeing with him, even though you want to leak so bad.

“got it, no wiggling or tugging.”

“good girl.” he stands looping the rope over the hook he’d put behind the toilet just for Tuesdays. 

“so excited aren’t you? thinking about all the cocks plowing through you tonight. want to guess how many you might get?” this was a little game he loved to play with you the closer you were to the right amount the more orgasms you’d receive through the week. the farther away the more water you had to drink on next Tuesday. 

“mmmm maybe,” you paused thinking, running through a list of people. you know what’s going to happen but that doesn’t stop the desire forming your tummy. “three.” 

“are you cheating? checking my phone or something?” you shake your head as he slaps your clit, and make your wrists wiggle, tightening the rope. “my pretty girl’s just a good guesser.”

“is it really three? did i get it?”

“hmm we’ll have to wait and see. you know i can’t tell you until after baby.” he grabs the jingling bells from the counter. he said he got the bells so he can hear how hard you’re getting pounded.

using a finger he pinches your nipple hardening the bud in his fingers. the clamp squeezes you as it jingles. reaching for the other nipple pinching it rubbing a nail over the bud making you whine. attaching the other clamp and he starts tightening it.

the pinch runs straight to your pussy, tightening and tightening as it jingles. you keep telling him you should just get them pierced but he said there’s no fun in that. 

he runs a hand down your chest inspecting his work, his perfect girl exposed and spread out on her throne. fingers trailing from your pigtails down to your sticky hair that covered your pussy. 

hyuck told you he liked the way his cum looked when he painted you down there. but he still bent you over the tub and shaved down the lips and your pucker. the smooth razor tickling your skin as he groomed you. made you his pretty doll.  

“now let’s inspect that little cunt,” he gets back down level with your spread pussy. “such a pretty hole.” his fingers tug at your folds so he can see inside. 

“let’s make sure you’re ready.” you nod, bells jingling. he uses a finger to open you up but it’s way too easy, no resistance and it’s not enough for you. the toy you’d rode stretched you, made you loose and sloppy. 

“we’re just ruining your hole aren’t we?” cunt stretched from all the Tuesdays. he grins, adding a second finger from his other hand pushing inside of you to get a glimpse of your walls. he leans closer spitting inside of you making you moan. pulling his fingers out patting your cunt making sticky sounds as he does. 

he looks at the shelf on the wall. toys of all shapes and sizes are starting to pile on top of each other. the lower shelf had less, common, toys. cans and bottles, markers, a bag of ping pong balls, various vegetables he replenished that morning just for you, and your favorite, a toy water gun. 

you watch him rummage for something before he grabs the strawberry plug from the top shelf. he said you were so sweet so he had to get you something to match.

you feel giddy wondering what he’s going to do to you. you see his once soft cock now bobbing under his shorts. was it you making him so excited? were you pleasing him?

“since i gave you all my piss now and you get it later,” he pauses sitting the plug on the counter. “i’m gonna fuck you now and later. prep you for them and get you when you’re all soppy and loose.” you whimper at the thought watching him intently. 

“how’s your tummy?” he asks, pushing on your flesh and you moan out forgetting about the pulse against your bladder but now it comes shooting back. 

“gonna,” you whine, tensing as tightly as you can. 

“why don’t i have a taste, let me give you a little break.” he leans in, lips closing around your clit. the pleasure immediate as the tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and your little tiny hole begging for release. 

“you stop when i slap your thigh.”

“yes, oppa. i stop when oppa hits me.” you nod. 

“like this.” he slaps harshly on your flesh. you nod again this time your head bobbing resting against your arms. waiting for him to latch onto you again, hot breath closing in on you. his hand pushes your legs back pushing them against your tummy.

whining as you relax into his tongue softly flicking ready to drink you. you don’t know you’ve started until he moans against you. hot piss filling his mouth as his tongue flicks over your hole sucking every spurt from you. 

“oh god,” you whine, head lolling back as he sucks all of you up. it feels so good so relaxed, the flick of his tongue on your clit pulls you closer to a different release but the hand slapping your thigh pulls you back.

focusing as you tighten your muscles again stopping the flow from filling his mouth. he swallows it all, not a drop spilling into the water below, tongue collecting every drip from you. 

“such a good listener,” he says, pulling away from where you want him most. 

“now let’s decorate you.” he grabs a marker that’s seen all of you inside and out. only your oppa gets to use the pink marker. his friends have to use plain black.

he uncaps it, eyes grazing your body, deciding on his artwork. leaning in he draws a heart around your pussy the marker dragging softly on your skin. smiling at his handy work before moving his hand drawing a heart under your left breast filling it in with the pink ink.

you wonder what he’s going to write as he pulls the skin of your thigh taut. marker sliding across your flesh you think hard at the touches of the felt tip. it’s only four letters and he moves to the other thigh writing six more. you look down trying to reverse the image in your mind. 

“you’re thinking too hard again. c - o - c - k -space- s - l - e - e - v - e.” he spells it out for you. he grins as you sound it out. “one more.” he leans back in, hand dragging over your coarse bush. writing stacked letters right above the hair. 

F - R - E - E

   U - S - E

he leans back admiring his designs, capping the marker tossing it on the counter. before pulling his shorts up the same way you did earlier, hard cock exposed. your mouth waters for the second time. 

“you know you can’t go again until everyone is done. need you to be my good piss pup and hold it okay?” you nod as his cock pushes against your sticky hole. the tip filling you easily, before sliding into your heat. 

“oppa,” you moan as he bottoms out. you really are still so tight he just wants to tease you, he’d need to have you ran through so many more times. the thought of his girl, moldable to his cock getting fucked and filled with every dick he could find made him go harder. gripping the rope over your head he uses it as leverage thrusting into you fast and hard.

you know he won’t let you cum. fingers ignore your clit only tightening around the rope as you swing into him. harsh thrusts hit your cervix making him moan watching your connection, the sticky slick gathering on his thighs. 

“just a little hole for me,” he groans, speeding up just trying to cum not caring about your orgasm. just using you like a toy.

“wonder how loose your sloppy cunt’s gonna be after you get ran through.” you moan, squeezing around him the thoughts filling your airhead. you clench your fist focusing on tensing your muscles to keep your piss and orgasm away, it works for a little bit. 

“getting too sloppy baby,” he slaps your tit, bells jingling loudly. tugging on the chain, your nipples already sore and squished. but he’s so close and the look on your face is priceless. mouth hanging open eyes glassy and dumb. just a dumb little toy. 

“fuck,” he groans pulling out and squeezing his cock before pushing forcefully into your ass. you cry as the flared tip fills you up without warning. jerking his cock with a loud groan filling you with his cum. 

“take it like a good little cum dumb,” he fucks his hot seed into you. moaning at the stretch as he pulls out his hand reaching for the plug and quickly shoving it past your rim. you groan at the sting his hot seed locked into you. 

“keep that warm for me,” he thrums his fingers over the base, making it vibrate. he pulls away, letting his shorts cover his softening cock. your pussy is already swollen and drooling onto the base of the plug, a site for horny eyes. 

“gonna be good for our guests?” he asks, petting your face softly. leaning into his touch you mewl, cheek mushing into his palm. “if you get too loud.” he holds up your gag and you nod again. you’re always too loud, but he says the neighbors like it. you wonder if they’ve ever come over. 

he pulls away, dropping the gag onto the counter before turning around. setting up his camera, the tripods and cameras stay in the bathroom, angle already perfected to get all of your holes.

you sit watching admiring his practiced fingers clicking and connecting things you don’t even understand. you think he lets it stream on the tv but you aren’t really sure where else it goes. 

before he leaves on Thursday he plays them back for you so you can see. he whispers in your ear while he touches you. you can already feel yourself melting into his touch hands molding to your skin as he shows you how good you were. 

“already so dumb and we haven’t even started,” his hand on your chin pulls you from your dreamy state. whimpering as he looks you over one last time. a knock on the door draws his hand from you and makes your tummy flip, eyes wide and ready for whatever is going to happen. 

“right on time. now be good and don’t you piss. i’ll stop it all.” you almost beg him not to but he’s already leaving shutting the door behind him. leaving you all alone with your head spinning and voices through the wall.

you always wonder what they do, hyuck and his friends on the other side of the closed door. you wish they’d open the door but the element of surprise feels too good. do they watch tv, eat the snacks you prepared, maybe even play a game. 

you hear laughter and voices, but you can’t pick anything out specifically and you groan curiosity pounding in your head. you sit up as straight as you can when the handle jiggles but then it stops. they love doing this watching you get all excited but pulling away. it’s like when hyuck edges you for hours and hours and makes you cry. 

the door swings open and you stare up. it’s jaemin. oh you love jaemin so much. he grins at you sweetly as he shuts the door. 

“hi pretty girl,” he walks to you, his bulky frame standing over you. “look at you all spread out aren’t you?” you nod at him trying to sit up but the wiggling makes things tighter. right hyuck said that earlier. 

“has your oppa already stretched you princess?”

“unhuh, but you’re so big,” you whimper. remembering the first time jaemin shoved his cock in you. so thick so heavy and you felt like crying. hyuck laughed at you watching the way your cunt could barely take it. jaemin made your belly bulge now you felt sweaty the thought of leaking because of his cock. 

“am i?” he cocks his head at you squeezing your cheeks making your mouth open. you let your tongue hang out knowing he would spit down your throat.

“pretty little pigtails today.” he reaches for them, tugging your head back. you whine your neck pressed awkwardly against the rope behind you. 

“mmm i think i like this position.” he releases your hair dragging a hand lower tugging on the chain connecting your nipples making you whine. 

“want to be open for you.” you whimper as his hand creeps lower tracing the words hyuck had written. 

“is this true, free use?” he questions condescending tone spilling with every word and you love it. 

“unhuh. just a hole. want to make you happy, make you feel good.” you babble. 

“your oppa still making you grow your hair?” you nod in response. “still shaved here though,” his fingers spread, making a v shape trailing over the heart shape. jaemin loves teasing you making you beg for him to fuck you. 

“aww and you're all plugged up, what are you keeping in there,” he tugs at the slick covered base making you keen the stretch of your sore rim around the toy. 

“cum. oppa, his cum,” you babble spit starting to pool in your mouth and spill over your lips. 

“what a good oppa, but you won’t get pregnant back there baby,” he slaps the base of the toy. jaemin loves breeding too. likes telling you about how he’s going to fill you with babies. hyuck said you couldn’t have babies though. which was good because you were too stupid and irresponsible. 

“will you get me pregnant?” you ask innocently. 

“but you’re my friend's toy.” he groans, shoving a finger in your slippery hole. “can’t do that to your oppa.” he says, adding a second beside the first. you whimper watching his wrist flick and fill you. 

“won’t tell him,” you whine as his thumb pushes against your clit. still sensitive from hyuck sucking the piss from you. 

“oh he will notice. big round belly,” he rubs over your filled tummy bladder already swelling again. “you’d look so swollen even more than when you have my cock in you or when you're full of piss.” you moan at his words, the thought filling your stupid head. his hand pushes a little and you jolt tightening the ropes again. 

“awww are you all full now?” blinking up at you with that smirk that makes you want to do anything for him. you nod whining when he pushes again. 

“can’t. trouble.” 

“oh we don’t want that, do we?” his fingers continue curling into your sweet spot before he adds a third. you shake your head against the rope pigtails whipping your face. 

“hmmm i’ll have to be careful then won’t i?” 

“more,” your spit bubbles when you say it. he obliges adding a fourth finger but you want him, his dick filling your greedy cunt. 

“cock.” more spit spills and he grins at you. dumb and stupid and begging for him. 

“why didn’t you just say,” pulling his fingers out, wiping them on your thigh. he unzips his jeans and your cunt dribbles with slick, a thick drop hitting the water with a plop. pulling his cock out, too big and heavy it hangs between his legs. he holds the base shaking it in his fist. 

“which do you want first, princess?” your mind races decided between his hot cum or hot piss like a menu. 

“cum want cum. want it in my hole. so empty now,” you whimper. he grins at you watching you try to wiggle closer but groaning when it pulls your legs tighter. 

he moves closer closing the gap thumb pushing on your clit as he pushes roughly into you. groaning softly while you’re crying out at the stretch. stinging as he settles inside you. 

“so fucking tight. you know my little toy at home isn’t as tight as you are? i think i’ve ruined her holes now, she’s all loose,” you whimper. thinking of jaemin’s girlfriend, you call her Friday, that’s her special day. you wonder what her cunt looks like is it stretched from all his poundings. 

squeezing around him as he starts to slide in and out. such a pretty girl probably hiding a stretched hole under her panties just like you. 

pushing into you hitting your bladder and sweet spot with every thrust making you dizzy with pleasure. he lingers deep inside you knowing the nudge of his cock against your full tummy is pushing you over the edge. 

“bet you’re so full huh? holding all day for us,” he groans when you clench at his words, thumb circling your clit slowly. 

“so full,” you whine, eyes lazy as he rocks into you. he peaks at the shelf beside you deciding what special treat you might get. you don’t see what he grabs but you hear it the familiar buzz filling the sticky room. hips bucking when he presses the vibrating egg to you clit. jaemin loves this toy, loves the way you squeeze around him when the buzzing starts and stops. 

“wonder if i could fit this in here,” he pulls out long strings connecting you. he shoves the egg deep inside of you whimpering as the buzzing fills your walls. he thrusts into you before you can even collect yourself the egg hitting your cervix. 

“unnnnn,” you groan out the tip of his cock pushing the toy deeper and deeper, vibrating his member in you. 

“fuck, now you’re like a real toy. charged up and buzzing around my cock,” he groans, grabbing the rope on your thighs pulling you to him. you whimper more and more slick puddling out of you making lewd squelches fill the room. the sound alone could make you cum. 

reaching under his cock he tugs the string of the egg pulling and pulling making it squeeze beneath his dick. your walls stretch as he tries to pull it out without removing his cock. the stretch and buzz sending shockwaves through you. he groans when the egg shimmies under the base of his length and he jolts into you. you feel your mind going mushy only thinking of dick dick dick. heavy cocks filling you making you feel so good. 

“awww are you getting stupid?” he coos moving  a hand from the rope to tug at your lips spit dripping onto your chest. you try nod but aren’t sure if you did the only feeling being the fill of his cock inside you. 

“gonna take my cum baby? gonna make a baby with it?” he groans, getting sloppier. you whimper wanting to fill up with his seed growing your belly for him. 

“gonna fuck a baby in your little cunnie make you a little breeding bitch.” he moans as you squeeze around him the words filling you even more than his member. he pulls the egg out letting it rattle on the floor using both hands to push on your tummy hard and fast thrusts. 

“no no,” you moan, swollen bladder trying and then leaking. 

“i won’t tell baby,” he moans hot dribbles coating his cock before you can stop. you cry thinking of hyuck coming in and pulling jaemin off of you as you piss and piss without any relief. you tighten hard and fast stopping the stream but breaking jaemin his load shooting deep and hot inside of you. 

“shit baby,” he groans, pushing his seed deeper. “gonna make you a dumb little mommy.” his thrusts slow but he keeps filling you with his load seeming to never end. your bladder is still full but you can relax a little when his hands no longer press against you. whimpering sadly when he pulls out his cock almost white from all the cum. 

you let your tongue hang out hoping he will give you a taste of something. he circles his fingers around his cock gathering all the slick before putting his hand to your mouth. lapping quickly collecting all of your mixed juices savoring the taste. he leans down spreading your cunt watching the cum try to spill out but he doesn’t let it. grabbing a different plug, a clear one to stuff inside of you, keeping you full. 

“gonna let me give you a shower?” you nod stupidly, mouth still hanging open waiting for his treat. he bends his knees letting his sticky cock lay on your tummy right over the words hyuck had written. the size is shocking, wondering how you can fit all of that inside of you. the tip practically reaching your ribs. 

“tell me you want it.”

“piss please. what your juice please, daddy. want it.” he grits his teeth at your words letting hot liquid spread over your belly. you whimper watching the stream grow and puddle in your belly button.

“so warm.” you whine as the liquid starts to drip below you. it makes you sad the thought of losing all his precious piss to the toilet water. what a shame. 

“you’re so disgusting.” he moves his hips rubbing his leaking cock against you. “little piss slut. love being a nasty bitch.” you moan clenching around your plugs. his stream slows trickling down your sides and into the water before he stops.

standing up he grabs his heavy member standing over you he brings it to your lips. moaning around him the bitter piss and his salty cum filling your mouth. whimpering, he spurts one final time down your throat before pulling away. watching him with a satisfied brain dead look. 

“fucking gross girl,” he coos twirling your pigtail. he grabs the rattling egg turning it off quickly. you smile at him stupidly as he reaches for the black marker from the counter exchanging it with the egg. he uncaps it tapping the tip on his chin as he decides what to write. hand hovering over your collarbones as he writes in pretty swirly letters. pulling away he admires his work before doodling beside hyuck’s lettering. drawing a crude dick, tip towards your cunt with small drops spilling on you. 

“i think that suits you.” he tosses the marker the same way hyuck did before tucking himself back into his pants. 

“daddy,” you whimper. 

“be good for the others they’ve been waiting all week for you.” he grins, slapping your cunt. your eyes squeeze and when you open them you're alone again. 

whining you kick your feet, ankles dangling as you look in the camera. hoping someone notices your need, your emptiness, your want. the door pushes opened and you hear laughing as jisung gets shoved inside. oh sweet jisung, just a precious boy. he’s so soft with you like you’re fragile. 

his head is down as he shakes his hair out of his face awkwardly shuffling over to you. 

“hi,” you look up at him. 

“uh hey,” he mumbles, looking you over. it’s always awkward at the start with ji, taking a bit to warm him up. or really him to warm up to the idea of what he’s partaking in. 

“missed you,” you pout. it had been awhile since you’d seen him maybe a month or more you weren’t sure all the days ran together. 

“really?” he perks up. 

“unhuh, where did you go away to?” you whimper. his hand slides over your ankle fingers tracing the rope. 

“was busy, was working you know,” he mutters, hand going higher up your thigh making you tingle. 

“oh okay,” you ignore the fact that he doesn’t have a real job. 

“you look so pretty today,” making you grin. “little pigtails and makeup.” he rubs your face, thumbing the smudged mascara on your cheeks. 

“oppa even decorated me,” you smile looking down at your still wet tummy, letters smudged. 

“i see, and who wrote this?” his fingers trail the cursive jaemin had added. 

“jaemin. what does it say?” 

“piss slut,” he’s so casual about it. “your oppa told me he was growing your hair out. sent me some pictures.” you whimper at the thought of jisung’s phone full of photos of your hairy pussy. 

“did you like it?” you hiccup. 

“thought about how pretty it would look when i cover it in cum,” he says, making you whine. ideas of him jerking off onto your sloppy cunt. his fingers twist the sticky hair pulling and tugging harshly. 

jisung didn’t usually fuck you, usually he’d come in with a cock hard and red and rub over your clit until he came. you didn’t mind you were a toy for his pleasure after all. 

“mmm look at you,” he gets on his knees peaking into your cunt trying to get a glimpse of the white liquid inside of you. “maybe i should add some to you?” you can see gears moving in his head as he contemplates. taking time to dance a finger over your clit as he thinks.

he stands quickly shuffling his pants down and pulling his cock out. jisung and jaemin are around the same length but jisung is skinnier just like their bodies. he leans against you rubbing his cock over your clit pushing into your hair. you moan at the drag of his length over your swollen bud. pulling away he reaches down pulling the plug out quickly shoving himself in to replace your emptiness. 

“fuck,” he groans hot cum surrounding his cock. he doesn’t know what to do with the plug so he just looks at you before shoving it in your mouth. you moan at the stretch of your lips. jaemin’s cum sliding on your tongue.

he hisses as he thrusts into you, cum forming a ring around his cock with each move of his hips. he won’t last long you think, he never does. that doesn’t stop you from savoring the drag of his cock the head bumping your cervix again. your walls pulsing around him squishing cum over his length. 

you can’t speak only moan around the plastic in your mouth the taste of jaemin wearing off as it slides down your throat. jisung grabs at your thighs using the rope to pull you against him, meeting his quick thrusts. 

groaning as his pelvis smacks against your clit and his balls heavy and sticky as they meet your ass. you can feel him getting sloppier almost ready to cum, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“gonna fucking.” he hisses looking at your begging eyes. he yanks the plug from your mouth and spit bubbles out as you whine. his shaky hand moves the plug ready to shove back in so you can keep all the goodies. 

“shit,” he whines shooting hot into you, shakily pulling out of you and shoving the toy haphazardly into your abused cunt. he continues jerking himself letting the rest of his cum spill onto your pussy, painting your bush like he wanted. you can’t help but ogle at the way his cum continues spilling in slow streaks over you. 

“fucking hot,” he mumbles rubbing his cock against your coarse hair. he’s still hard, rock solid against your pelvis. he shakes his head standing back up trying to fix his cock in his jeans. but the bulge is so prominent he just leaves them unzipped bulging in his underwear. you want him to fuck you some more until his cock is dry and spent. you want him to feel good. 

he looks around the counter trying to find the marker jaemin had thrown earlier. he lifts it like a prize before looking back to you. he already knows what he wants to write so he doesn’t hesitate. uncapping the pen with a shaky hand pressing to your tummy. with small letters he writes cumdump right on your thigh he adds a heart and arrow pointing to your hole. he stands up awkwardly rubbing his hands together laying the marker on the counter. 

“thanks,” he says, rubbing his neck as he turns to leave.

when he opens the door, jeno's already waiting like a line forming at a stadium for the bathrooms. jeno looks at jisung and eyes the bulge in his pants. 

“is she too loose for your little cock?” he teases flicking jisung’s cock. jisung whines holding a hand over himself as he tries to sneak past jeno. you see eyes peering around his shoulders watching you. your heart grows all the affection for you and what you’re good at. jeno enters slamming the door behind him.  

“hi puppy,” he his voice instantly softer, his sweet grin filling his face. jeno is so lovely. attentive and affectionate, soft and kind, but also so hard and thick and strong. 

“papa,” you draw, maybe even dribble a little over your plug like a dumb puppy seeing its favorite person. 

“miss me baby? not even been a week.” he smiles down at you petting your head sweetly. jeno was over just yesterday, was it yesterday you aren’t sure. he’d held you on the couch so your oppa could inspect your cunt. soft big hands on your thighs while hyuck fingered at your opening. peering in and taking close up pictures of your walls. using a special camera so you could see your cunnie on the tv. 

your papa held you and praised you over and over making your feel soft while your gummy walls were explored. then he’d lifted you, shoving his cock into you while your oppa watched and rubbed himself. the camera was long discarded as he watched hot breath and fast on your cunt. 

you liked when your oppa and papa made you pretty together. your papa, soft and sweet and your oppa, mean and rough. papa filled you up so much. you still felt the ache in your thighs. 

“just like you so much,” you admit. 

“aren’t you so sweet? do you think about me when i’m away?” you nod shyly face warming. you really do, even when hyuck’s inside of you. maybe even earlier when you fucked yourself open for him. thinking of pressing your face into jeno’s balls while he held your head and praised you for doing as you were told. 

“what do you think about?” you felt shy even though you had told him before. even told hyuck and hyuck shared the same affections you felt.

inviting jeno over for dinner or a movie or your special time. having jeno come watch you when hyuck had to leave. watching his pet when he couldn’t. making sure you got fucked and played with so you didn’t get bored. hyuck didn’t want your cunt to rest, he said if you didn’t cum enough your brain would start working too much. he didn’t want your head to hurt, he loved you so much. 

“just you know,” he caressed your cheek, thumb collecting spit and putting it in your mouth. 

“tell me, puppy.” jeno got to call you your special nickname too. hyuck told you it was reserved for him and papa only.  

“unnnn,” you whine when his finger circles your clit. “you, and mmm. think about papa, ma-making me pretty,” you whimper. he watches you, warm eyes staring into you. only hyuck could make you pretty, but jeno was so special. hyuck teased you about it, made you tell him all about it while he played with you. hyuck even let you call jeno papa or oppa. everyone else was daddy or mister or something like that. but jeno was, your papa. 

“want your papa to make you pretty?” you nod your head filling with mush all over again. making you pretty was when hyuck fucked you stupid. made you empty headed and dumb for him. a drooly, pissy, toy he played with. 

“has your oppa even made you cum?” he tilts a head circling his finger faster over your clit. you shake your head, eyes squeezing together, release drawing closer. relaxing your muscles to his touch. 

“so mean,” he turns, looking into the camera. “how about your papa makes you cum? does that sound good?” you nod no words able to form. 

“papa will even let you dribble a little. i know you’ve been such a good pup, holding all day. having all your glasses. your oppa even told me you had extra.” you nod his praise filling up your tummy. his fingers rub faster and you feel the relief so close to you like you can taste it or touch it. 

“you can let go. just a little bit for papa, cum for me puppy.” you moan head lolling back as you cum, hot spurts of piss spilling. “good puppy get it all out.” he rubs his fingers, spraying your piss everywhere, opening his mouth to collect what he can the rest staining his shirt or landing in the water.  

“stop,” he instructs but his fingers still attack your sensitive clit. tightening again you stop the stream a little dribble spilling out over the plug. leaning his head in he collects the leftovers and what cum is on your cunt. standing up he squeezes your mouth open, spitting the fluid into your mouth hot on your tongue. 

you can’t help but moan at the taste. his fingers slow as you swallow before patting your clit. 

“that feels better right?” you nod lazily trying to spread your legs wider for him. “look at all your pretty words.” his fingers trace the messages left on you. you wish he had a special marker just for him. maybe purple or blue. 

“piss slut,” he reads, hand racking down your chest. drawing a heart with his finger over the heart on you. “free use.” his hand pushes on your tummy still full and needy. he grins as he moves lower. “cumdump. is that true?” you nod. “hmmm,” he investigates, tugging your flesh to see the words. “cocksleeve,” he whispers, thumbs brushing your inner thighs. 

“you’ve been doing so good,” he says, spreading your cunt watching it swallow around the plug. 

“been watching you get played with,” he continues pulling at your thighs to spread you. “such a good toy. makes papa hard watching his pup get filled up.”

“papa,” you whimper, eyes watering. 

“papa will fill you up too, don't worry puppy. i know your little cunnie is needy and needs more doesn’t it?” stupidly bobbing your head. your papa is right you do have a needy cunnie that needs more wants more. 

“papa can i taste you,” he tilts his head up pausing his inspection of your swollen cunt. 

“sweet little piss pup,” he coos standing over you pushing your legs back farther with his own. 

he unbuckles his belt pulling the leather from the loops. brushing your pigtails away and moving your head so he can wrap the belt around your spit covered neck. he tightens it to the special loop he made just for you. his hands are soft and sweet as he brushes your skin and tightens the leather making your throat squeeze. 

he unbuttons his slacks pulling his chubby cock out. jeno is shorter than jisung and jaemin but he’s so thick. cock fat and heavy. you liked to think of him when hyuck put a soda can in you. the stretch similar to him but not as warm and heavy, only when hyuck would fill it with his pee did it get a little warm or heavy. 

he pulled the waistband lower, letting his balls hang heavy under him. he knew you loved them. loves the slap on your chin as he fucked your face lips aching at the stretch.  

you whined mouth watering as he held himself leaning into you one hand on the wall as his cock found your lips. 

“want it all in here puppy?” his tip prodded your lips. 

“wanna drink it all. wan it in my tummy.” you whimpered tongue sliding over the tip. 

“don’t spill any puppy,” he pushes into your waiting mouth. and you try to swallow around him, lips already stretched with just the head. 

“let’s fill up that tummy,” he pats at your bulging belly. moaning when you begin to taste him. your cheeks puffing up as he empties into them. he releases the hand from his cock letting you do the work. lewdly slurping and swallowing in quick succession, bitter yellow pouring down your throat so fast you can barely taste every drop. 

“good pup,” he whispers, holding your pigtails pulling you somehow closer. moaning when your lips stretch around him. he pokes your cheek watching you hurry and swallow so none spills out. his legs pressed into your harder making your muscles ache the stretch more than you were used to. 

maybe your oppa was right to stretch you more. he said good toys were flexible so you had to do your classes, bending over, touching your toes, he wanted to work you until you could get your legs behind your head.

you gulp and swallow and gulp some more drinking him in.

“you’re gonna suck me dry, puppy,” he coos as the stream slows taking your final swallows, already missing the fill of your cheeks. you keep him in your mouth, tongue flicking the tip of his cock tasting the last little drops.

you keep swirling your tongue around him trying your best to keep his heavy cock in your mouth. he groans almost growling, tugging both of your pigtails to force his cock deeper. moaning around him at the stretch. shoving himself deeper but you can barely take half of. you swear you’d been practicing, hyuck even got a big toy just for your mouth. 

“tiny little mouth,” he mumbles a thumb trying to pull at your stretched lips. you feel tears welling as he pushes deeper and deeper. your teeth slightly dragging over his length, jaw not going wider. he thrusts into your mouth gagging you and the tears spring. 

“aww is it too much pup?” thumbing at your wet eyes, mascara smearing more. you want to shake your head beg him to fuck your throat until it can take his length with ease. he pulls out spit spilling and covering his cock. bubbles spilling onto your chest. 

“let’s see,” he holds your chin tugging your lips open peeking down your throat. “doing so good for papa.”

he steps away, your legs falling slightly. you miss him already. the warmth of him pressing to you. 

“want you,” you whimper opening your fist but you can’t reach out for him. 

“you have me,” he whispers, rubbing your face again. he grabs your hand lacing your fingers together, making you melt. 

“no papa,” you search for the words. “want you down there.”

“hmmm where?” he teases. hand roaming down. “here?” touching your chin you shake your head. “maybe here?” he drags his hand lower, squeezing your breast. you shake your head again pouting. 

“what am i missing?” he questions, grabbing the belt and tugging. 

“papa, down there,” you stare up at him. 

“here?” fingers dancing over the plug still stopping up hyuck’s cum in you. 

“nuhh, my pussy, my cunt, my hole, cunnie. in me. want you,” you crack huffing at him. he just smiles softly. 

“oh why didn’t you just say that puppy? you want me here?” tapping against the clear silicone stuffed inside of you. you nod eagerly. 

“did they get you all stretched for papa?”

“unhuh can take you, been practicing so good,” you whimper. 

“how do you practice?” biting your lip thinking to your practice. 

“oppa makes me- he got me a big big big toy. oppa makes me sit on it while he plays games.” you babble. “makes me dribble cause it pushes on me inside.” you sound stupid only thinking about his cock filling you up.

your tummy felt hot when hyuck made you sit on the toy. he told you it was your pretend papa for when you needed to practice. sitting you on the floor in front of his chair while he played his games and talked to his friends, you buried the toy deep inside of your cunnie, belly bulging as you grinned against it. small puddle forming under you, piss and drool spilling from your holes. 

your oppa would pick on you, call you stupid pissy puppy but it made your brain heavy face shoved in his crotch smelling his piss soaked shorts. his foot rubbed against you using his toes to push against your tummy making you spill and spill more gripping yourself to stop the flow but it just soaked into the carpet. it was just another wet spot littering the space beneath his desk. 

“poor piddly puppy.” he pouts tugging at the plug keeping the mixed cum inside of you. “papa, needs to get you some puppy pads for all those dribbles.” 

“please,” you whine, he tugs the toy out slowly before pushing it back in. cum squishing around the base. 

“remember no more leaking, pup. papa’s gonna push your insides too but you can’t make a mess okay.” you nod as he holds his cock tugging the toy out using his tip to collect any spills before pushing into you. you’re always prepared for the stretch but it shocks you again. hot and heavy as he slides in cum sloshing in you. 

thick so thick and big and so heavy and full

“still such a tight little pussy,” he groans. fat cock filling you up fucking used cum deeper into you. 

“papa’s so,” you babble as he thrusts into you. 

“dumb puppy,” tugging your pigtail again. thrusting slow and deep, making you keen. thankful he let you dribble earlier but the push of him against your bladder makes your eyes shake. 

“full,” you mumble spit dripping from your swollen lips. 

“what’s that pup?” he groans, pushing into your sticky walls. 

“full, puppy so full papa,” babbling as his thrusts speed up. he tugs at the belt wrapping it around his wrist using it to pull your cunt to him. slamming heavy balls against the plug in your ass. your brain is broken just jeno and his cock and the fullness of your whole body. cunt, ass, bladder, all filled to the brim. 

“look pup,” you open your eyes blinking up at him following the direction of his eyes. your tummy bulging with each deep thrust. 

“little bladder bulging while papa fucks you. i’d fuck the piss out of you pup but your oppa would kill me,” he groans. jeno had a tendency to fuck the piss out of you. remembering the first time you finally took him all embarrassed when you started spilling over his tummy. but he just fucked you harder grinning as hyuck watched you. 

“wanna go on your cock,” whimpering, wishing hyuck would open the door telling you to let go. 

“i know, puppy. papa wants your little pissy cunt to let go.” he spreads your pussy, fingers rubbing your clit again. “bet you're already full again with papa’s piss.” you whine feeling the liquid slosh inside of you. 

“hold it for papa,” he fucks you harder belt tugging on the belt around your throat as he pulls you into him. “can’t even make puppy cum or you’ll make a mess.” he pouts but doesn’t stop rubbing your clit bringing you closer. 

“papa, ‘s gonna.” his fingers dragging you to release before he pulls away so you don’t make a mess. you groan pussy fluttering, but he just smiles back at you. 

“papa’s gonna fill up his puppy’s cunnie,” he moans as you clench again, tightening the hold on your piss. 

“want papa’s cum. want papa to make me have babies,” you whimper. he lets go of the belt lacing your fingers again making you purr brain melting at the affection.  

“want to be even more swollen, puppy? gonna have little pups for papa,” you moan loudly at the words. 

“want papa to stretch my tummy,” you beg, holding his hand tighter. 

“fuck, nasty puppy,” he moans sloppily fucking into you. “gonna take all papa can give you?”

“want papa,” he groans, thrusting a deeply hot seed filling your sloppy cunt. 

“nasty pup wanting papa’s babies,” he groans, slowing but still unloading cum into you. 

“just want all of papa,” you babble. he rubs a thumb over your hand before releasing it reaching for the slimy plug on the counter. he pulls out slowly before roughly shoving the toy back into you. patting the base before pulling away. his cock is still so heavy hanging over his balls. 

“so you want all of me?” you nod you really do. wishing he stayed beside you in the bed sandwiched between him and your oppa. sitting in his lap while your oppa played games so you weren’t so lonely at least your hand made good company for now. jealous thoughts crept in sometimes wondering if he had a toy. you wanted to be his only toy. 

“such a good pup for papa. so good,” the praise melted into you like hot lava. his hand held your face sweetly as you nuzzled closer.

“now pup,” he gets eye level to talk to you. “papa’s gonna go, but papa’s gonna be here when you get done okay. papa’s gonna watch you, not much longer now and you can get all that piss out.” you nod into his warm palm, his other hand soothes your belly. so soft and safe and strong. 

“miss you pa,” you mutter, he reaches up, unclasping his belt, sliding it from around your neck easily. 

“i know puppy, i’ll miss you. but i’ll be so close.” throwing a thumb in the direction of the door. “be a good puppy and get all filled up okay.”

he pulls away, but grabs the marker. you watch as his hands soothe over your skin soft and tender. he starts with little hearts drawing sweet and pretty designs over you. 

“hmmm,” he looks you over, deciding. the marker goes to your inner thigh writing ‘papa’s’ then switching to the right thigh and writing ‘puppy’. it makes you hot and warm and mushy in your head. 

“papa’s good puppy, aren't you?”

“papa’s puppy,” you agree. he leans over you kissing your lips softly. 

“i’ll miss you,” he pulls away, lingering before opening the door and slipping away. 

you pout to yourself already missing his warmth the room growing cold now. the need to go comes in waves as you wait, muscles sore and tired from being bent and folded up. you want more though. head empty save for thoughts of cocks filling you molding your holes to their shape. if you weren’t plugged up you’d be dripping. thoughts of heavy cocks filling you soothes the ache in your muscles. 

“oppa,” you call looking into the camera beside your head. “more.” you stare lazily into the lens pleading eyes, listening for anything but you just hear voices not able to make out words. 

the door swings open and mark stands before you. you feel giddy. something about mark made you feel sneakier and dirtier. he was in seminary, studying the word and praying before participating in these activities. the idea of his school finding out about this made you tingle. 

“fuck,” he groans looking you over. “you think you have some room for more?” 

“always have room for mark,” you grin at him. 

“i don’t have much time.” your face shifts into a pout at his words. 

“gotta go to mass,” he coughs. your tummy flips, he’s come to fuck you before going to confess all of his sins. does he tell his priest about you?

“you don’t have to just, maybe, just.” you pause trying to come up with an idea. he’s pulling his cock out hard and pleading for something. “use my mouth.”

“jen stretched you good huh?” he leaned closer pushing his legs against you the same way your papa had. he’s leaner legs not as hot against your skin. thumbing over your swollen lips dragging them open. 

“want cock,” you parrot like a little robot. he laughs at you coming closer, hands on the wall leaning over you, the tip pushing into your mouth. 

“fuck,” he hisses as you take him swallowing easily around his length. jeno’s length but not the same meaty thickness. a nice good size especially for your little mouth. he thrusts into your hole spit spilling from your lips when he pulls back. you moan as he hits your throat holding back a gag as he continues. you need to make him feel good, make him cum. 

“shit, just like that,” he moans into his palm, grinding into you his pelvis hitting your nose with ease. he doesn’t move keeping his cock deep in your mouth and you start to choke around him. he pulls out sloppily, spit spilling over his cock before you can even catch your breath he’s pushing in again. lips stretching around him as he drags slow and steady inside you. 

“gonna make me cum,” he whines, thrusts fast and sloppy into your throat. he slips out pulling away jerking at his cock, a finger tickling at his own nipple over his shirt. 

“holy fuck.” he groans thrusting into his fist. you eagerly watch the slide of his hand over his spit covered cock so delicious. 

“cum on me mark. want it all over me please,” you whine. you wish you could do the work, hold his cock in your hands and have him spill over your fingers. the door swings open, slamming it behind him. 

“fuck,” mark whines so close. watching intently as hyuck grins at you from behind mark his fingers sneaking around to pinch marks nipples. 

“what the- shitt,” he moans, white cum spurting onto your tits catching on the chain. you watch as your boyfriend teases mark’s nipples and somehow you grow wetter. hyuck whispers in mark’s ear. 

“filthy piss baby,” he hisses, cum painting your tummy and chest a pretty little mess. you whine tongue hanging out hoping to catch a measly drop.

“dude what the fuck,” he tries to turn to hyuck but he grabs him pushing mark back against your legs. 

“awww hyung, i thought you liked it.” hyuck says, grabbing mark’s cock making him hiss. 

“bro what the fuck,” he tries squirming away but hyuck holds his cock tight flattening his other hand rubbing his palm over the tip fast and hard. mark whines melting into hyuck. you’ve watch this game they’ve played many times. mark trying to push hyuck away but eventually caving from the pleasure. 

the scene in front of you makes you want to touch yourself. hyuck swirling mark’s cock in hot circles making the older boy cry into his hand. 

“she wanted you to make a mess, hyung. so you better fucking make a mess,” hyuck growls, he’s practically humping mark. mark's tummy is tensing and he lets out a loud whimper as clear liquid pulses out of his cock spilling onto your tummy. 

“oh my god,” you whine watching it cover you in messy spurts. hyuck slows his hand before tugging on mark’s cock making him wince. 

“good boy,” he pats his back, releasing his hold on him. 

“you’re such a freak,” he turns, pushing hyuck away. 

“you still didn’t do everything she asked.” hyuck pushes mark back to you forcing him to face you again. “c’mon you can do it. i told you what would happen if you didn’t.”

hyuck grabs mark’s cock again, aiming it at you. your mind only thinking about what hyuck would do if mark didn’t do what he said. it makes you clench your filled pussy. 

“look she’s waiting,” hyuck said, shaking mark’s cock. hot stream hitting your tummy before you even realize mark’s pissing. moaning as it hits your tits with hyuck’s help. 

“what do u say to her?” mark whines. 

“little piss bitch. you like it when you get covered in my piss,” he whimpers. your mouth still hanging open and hyuck aims to hit your tongue and you swallow greedily letting it spill over your lips. 

“can’t deny that little face,” hyuck coos watching you lick your lips. 

mark stares at you eyes wide while hyuck holds his cock piss slowing to a dribble then stopping. hyuck shakes mark’s cock the last drops hitting your cunt sliding down over the base of your toy. 

“now,” hyuck pauses, tucking mark back into his jeans. “go repent.” he pats mark’s ass and mark’s face burns as he quickly leaves. the door stays open while hyuck stands in front of you. 

“aren’t you so pretty,” he coos, rubbing your sticky cheek. “room for one more?” you nod staring up at him, failing to notice the group forming at the doorway. 

“didn’t even have to gag you. i think all those cocks in your mouth helped.” he pulls his hard cock from his shorts lowering the elastic until his balls hang. 

“unhuh,” you agree, mind spilling out of your ears as you watch him come closer. 

“been stretched so much i think you’ll take me good.” he tugs the plug from your ass making you cry as his cum spills out onto his cock. you whine clenching, missing the fullness but he doesn’t make you wait, shoving into you quickly. you hiss at the stretch, his cock pushing past your tight rim with practiced ease.  

“oppa,” you whimper, cum squelching inside of you as he fills you up. it squeezes out of your tight hole, spilling out of you around his cock. 

“took so much cum so well,” he moans, he tugs at the plug stretching your cunt, squishing cum around the silicone. “fuck so slippery.” 

you can’t pull your eyes from where he enters you cum covering his cock, sticking to his legs as he slams into you. 

jisung peers from the doorway and you see them, jaemin, jeno, and jisung watching as hyuck pounds his own cum from your hole. whining when you make eye contact clenching tightly around hyuck. 

“so gross, you want them to watch?” he motions them closer and they pile in heads all down watching the way you swallow hyuck’s cock. 

“such a greedy slut,” jaemin moans, his fist jerking over his cock. 

“love being a little toy for us to use,” hyuck says, slamming into you. 

“takes it so well doesn’t she?” jeno says with his heavy cock in his hands. 

“so disgusting,” jisung adds, rubbing his fingers over the tip of his cock. they encircle you, surround you with dick just like you like. 

“gotta go,” the pressure on your bladder is too much as hyuck hits it hard with each trust. 

“aww gonna piss? “ jaemin perks, you nod your eyes fluttering trying to hold back but it’s harder and harder. 

“gonna piss on your oppa’s cock?” hyuck groans. 

“is gonna,” you whine squeezing around your oppa. “please.”

“mmm i dunno.” you whimper at him as jaemin’s hand pushes down on your tummy, his evil smile right in your face. 

“what do you think?” looking over to jeno. he leans down closer to you, his thumb pushing on your clit, rubbing at the bud. 

“she’s been such a good puppy, she needs to make a mess,” he says softly. 

“i guess, are you gonna listen to your papa?” jeno’s pet name falling from hyuck’s lips make you tingle with want. you nod making yourself dizzy, hands all over you, holes full. 

“let go for us little pup,” jeno says and you can’t hold it anymore relaxing quickly letting hot piss spill from you. jeno’s thumb spraying it over hyuck’s tummy, his shirt turning yellow.

you melt into the feeling bladder releasing as your orgasm rolls over you. pleasure from everything all of your thoughts fall away. hips bucking into hyuck as you shiver, piss still spraying hard and fast you couldn’t stop if you wanted to. hyuck moans at the way your sticky hole flutters around him pulling him in. 

“fuck,” he groans pouring more cum into your ass. “such a good cumdump.”

“so much piss,” jisung mutters, the hand on his cock fast and sloppy. you whimper at his words embarrassed but pleased. 

“ it’s - ‘s too much,” you whine, wiggling trying to escape from jeno’s thumb and hyuck’s cock still filling you. the pleasure sending shockwaves through you. hyuck slows his hips as your piss dribbles down over his cock. 

“such a good puppy,” jeno coos at you. 

“god you're so soft with her, why don’t you just marry her,” hyuck rolls his eyes, but a grin tugs at his lips, staying inside of you. 

“how can you be mean to this sweet thing?” jeno rubs your cheek with his piss covered fingers. you mewl nuzzling into his sticky palm. 

“easy,” he says, tugging the chain making your squeal. jisung groans, making the boys turn their heads to see him pumping his cock frantically. 

“gooner,” jaemin says flicking jisung’s chest. 

“you know what? i really have to piss,” hyuck says, turning back to you. 

“in me,” you mumble into jeno’s hand. 

“you heard her,” jeno uses his other hand to tug on hyuck’s hair making him whimper. he keeps his eyes on jeno, staring as he commands the room. hyuck whines again hot piss filling you up and bubbling in you. his moves his hips letting it gush out of the tight hole. 

“open,” hyuck does as jeno says mouth wide when jeno spits into it making you whimper. your tummy is hot and bubbly as you fill. 

“fuck,” jisung groans, leaning closer so he can cost you in his cum.

“mmmm,” you love the feeling hot jizz pooling on your tummy as pee is fucked into you. 

“she’s so nasty,” jaemin comments looking between your legs, where hyuck’s piss dribbles out and into the water. reaching again for his cock jerking himself over your leg.

hyuck finishes filling you but jeno keeps a hold on his hair as he pulls out. a gush of yellow before hot sticky fluids glob out of your sloppy rim plopping into the water. 

“look at that,” jeno says leaning over hyuck’s chubby cock pulling his hands from your face and his hair he spreads your cheeks watching as the cum spills out of you. leaning even closer you feel his breath before he spits on your hole. 

“god you really are just a dump huh? how do you even fit all that inside,” jaemin moans again as his hand speeds up. 

“toy,” you bubble. “stretched me.” 

“yeah your oppa’s too small to do that,” jeno smirks at your boyfriend

“fuck you.”

“mmm you wish.”

“shut up i’m about to cum,” jaemin growls. you moan again your boys bickering makes you drippy. hyuck spreads your legs, making room for more cum to shoot over jisung’s puddle growing in your bush. 

“messy puppy,” jeno coos at you, dragging his fingers from your ass collecting the fluids before bringing it to your lips. you moan taking his fingers into your mouth easily whimpering at the salty bitterness the taste means they care for you. he fucks his fingers into your mouth pushing them deeper making you gag around them. 

“can i,” jisung interrupts, raising a hand. “uh piss on you?” you nod eagerly watching hyuck stand and make room for jisung. 

“you know you don’t have to ask?” he says grinning as jisung steps in front of you, his face red. 

“i think i could go too.” jaemin grins, holding his cock aiming it at you. “jen,” he asks, nodding at jeno’s heavy cock. 

“not yet,” you pout, wanting him to make you messier. his fingers slide from your mouth holding your chin sweetly, calming you down. you’re too focused on your papa to see the piss start dribbling out of jisung. 

“she likes it when you piss on her clit,” jaemin says reaching to grab jisung’s cock and aim their streams at your swollen bud. you whined loudly watching it splatter on you, the hard waterfall hitting you in just the right way. 

“moreee,” you groan, the hot streams vibrating you so close to another orgasm. 

“fucking disgusting. are you really gonna cum because they’re pissing on your cunt?” hyuck teases. you squirm trying to grind against the liquid. 

“gross girl,” jaemin says as he moves closer to you, his tip getting sprinkled on. his hand slowly moves on jisung’s cock and he’s already getting hard again. whimpering when jeno shoves his fingers in you fucking the last of oppa’s cum out of you 

“gonnna,” you groan out back arching as you release again. piss still streams on your clit but it was jeno’s fingers shoving inside of you that sent you to the edge. he keeps going his digits fucking the liquid that spill on his palm into your sopping stretched rim. 

“shit, ji’s already hard again,” jaemin announces, piss stream slowing to a dribble as he still jerks jisung’s in his fist. the boys all look at the movement, watching in glee as his cock grows stiff once more. jeno’s fingers help you come down slowly before pulling out cum spilling alongside them. you whimper when he rubs his sticky fingers over your swollen and used up pussy. 

“sorry, i -“ jisung whimpers when jaemin speeds up. 

“do you even have anything left?” hyuck teases reaching around to pinch the boy's nipples, making jisung cry and his face go red. you watch the slide of jaemin’s hand over jisung’s cock, the scene makes you clench causing another glob of cum to spill out of you. you can’t help it. 

“aww even our dumb puppy likes it.” jeno coos flattening his fingers to rub your clit hard and fast before pulling away only to slap it. you arch into him rope tugging on your skin. when you look back, jeno has his hand next to jaemin’s spreading all your juices over jisung. 

“fuckkkk,” he mewls, pulling his lip between his teeth, hips thrusting into their hands. 

“let her have it,” hyuck mumbles into jisung’s neck. 

“yeah ji, cum for your hyungsss,” jaemin coos. and jisung loses it legs shaking as he moans our eyes closed tight when clear starts spurting from him. you whine when it hits you coating your tummy and pussy all over again. watching his slit spill it over jaemin’s fist while jeno pumps the base. 

“so pretty,��� you whimper. 

“yeah she likes watching boys touch each other. makes her little cunt wet,” hyuck says pinching jisung’s nipples once more before releasing him letting him crumple on the cool floor. 

“aww you get off to anything don’t you,” jaemin says, petting your face with his hand still coated in jisung’s leftover cum. you nod into the touch savoring the warm sticky feeling against your cheek. 

“i would show off some more but i’m spent,” hyuck says, eyeing jeno who has yet to cum for a second time. jaemin nods in agreement pulling his hand away but admiring you. 

“i guess i could give our puppy some more,” jeno draws, making you perk up. 

“pleasse, papa,” you beg kicking your ankles. 

“we can still watch,” jaemin grins, peeking at the bulge in his friend's pants. he licks his lips not so subtly when jeno pulls himself out, cock heavy. 

“and still touch,” hyuck slithers a hand over to jeno’s ass pushing him towards you. 

“you know,” he continues tapping his chin with a finger, before tugging jeno away and bending down. “this little hole is still full. maybe you could use it.”

jeno eyes the base of the plug still in your pussy. the tempting tight warmth he craves. 

“papa please,” you whimper. the thought of him stretching your pussy one more time makes your whole body warm. he smiles at you before grabbing hyuck and pushing him back easily. moving between your legs, hands over your inner thighs. 

“show us how you stretch her cunt won’t you jeno?” jaemin asks squatting to get eye level with your hole. 

“pa,” you repeat babbling stupidly so cock drunk to even make anymore words. 

“sweet stupid puppy, gonna fuck you now. you’re gonna be good and take papa’s cock?” he soothes a hand over your inner thigh before tugging at the plug the cum spills out easily before he can push in letting it drip onto his cock. 

“unhuh,” you can’t say much, just whine and moan when the head pushes into you filling your used cunt easily. sloppy wet squelching fills the room as he fucks into you. 

“fuck,” jaemin says watching the way your pussy swallow all of jeno’s fat cock. 

“jen we wanted a show,” hyuck says from behind tugging at his pants, letting them poop with his boxers on the floor. you can’t see what’s happening behind jeno just hear hyuck giggling. his hands spreading jeno’s cheeks so he can peek at his asshole. watching the swing of his balls against you, from between his legs. jeno doesn’t flinch just keeps fucking you full and full and full. 

“i think she wants it harder,” jaemin grins and you nod. he moves behind jeno stepping behind hyuck before he grips his hips pushing him somehow harder and faster into you. your mouth just hands open spit drooling as your mind grows dumber and dumber just cock on your  brain. 

“fuck,” jeno groans, hyucks hand grabbing his balls squeezing them. 

“cum papa, won’t you cum for your puppy,” he teases, watching from between jeno’s legs as his cock disappears and reappears more cum covering it each time. 

jeno moans out fucking his hips deep into you making your hiccup. you whimper as his tip hits your cervix, cum spilling. jaemin keeps his hands on jeno’s hips pushing him as hard as he can into you. 

“breed your stupid little pup,” he groans into jeno’s neck. you moan at the words the thought of jeno’s seed making a bay in you swelling you up all for him. jeno soaks in your heat for a moment catching his breath before pulling out slowly letting the cum drip from you. not totally sure who it all belongs to at this point. 

“good puppy,” he puts leaning to kiss your cheek then your lips still open as you drool from them. you whimper lapping at his lips. cum still coming out in globs. 

when he pulls away he joins the pile of boys on the floor in front of you. all red faced and sleepy looking at you still open and pretty for them. 

“she’s still gonna be spilling cum for another day,” jaemin laughs. jisung shakes his head, still eyeing the way it piddles from you. 

“you know hyuck doesn’t care if she pisses on his bed, he's not going to care if she gets cum in the sheets,” jeno smiles, remembering when he’d sat on that same bed with hyuck watching you clutch yourself to keep from pissing. but hyuck pushed his feet into your tummy, making you spill and spill until you cried. sitting in the puddle before hyuck made you touch yourself while they watched. you’d been so good, so obedient, and so embarrassed. 

“she likes the smell,” he beams at you and you nod. 

“she’s disgusting,” jaemin says, laughing at the pout on your face. 

“she can’t help it,” hyuck pouts back at you. “i broke her so long ago she doesn’t even remember what it’s like to not be disgusting.” 

jaemin stands up first walking over to you before patting your thigh. 

“see you next Tuesday, make sure to stretch your little cunnie for me,” he grins before waving to the boys and leaving the room. 

“he’s my ride,” jisung shuffles up awkwardly waving as he leaves quickly following jaemin. 

“and then there were three.” hyuck says. 

“did you get all brain dead, puppy,” jeno pulls himself up walking to you. you babble a response. 

“wanna stay over?” hyuck nudges jeno’s shoulder. 

“if you don’t mind an alarm, i gotta work tomorrow.”

“nope our dumb girl will sleep through anything. you’ll have to wake her up with a drink though,” they grin at you expectantly. the ideas for the early morning are already filling their heads as your empties even more. 

[muqingslover]

Your latest fic destroyed me (in the best possible way, im weak to angst) and I've been binge reading the other stuff you have here in order to console myself lol (love it all btw!!)

What I wanted to ask is, what features do you think lads' kids would inherit from them? In the case of the guys that want kids ofc. I have this hc that Caleb's genes are stubborn af, and all his kids have his eye colour copy paste. (If you're open to requests, that is!!)

[ Thank you for your kind words anon! 💕💕 I'm always happy to hear that you guys enjoy my work! For those who are curious, this is the fic anon is referring to!

Your request ended being quite short though bc there really wasn't much for me to elaborate (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ I've mentioned before I don't see some of the boys with children, but I did them anyway for you to make up for the length! ]

⊹ His physical traits gene is like a Russian roulette, but his personality genes are unbeatable.

⊹ If Xavier was to have children they'd be as sleepy and clingy as their father.

⊹ They miiiight get his hair color, but the rest? A carbon copy of you.

⊹ I also feel like his children would be really whiny in a super cute, not annoying-toddler way.

⊹ The most adorable puppy eyes and pouty face. It feels impossible to say no to them.

⊹ The strongest genes known to man.

⊹ His children are literal copy-paste of himself. White hair, red eyes, dragon traits, ECT.

⊹ They however have your personality plus are also very, very high energy.

⊹ He absolutely adores them of course, but Sylus would ask to keep trying until he gets a mini version of yourself. What can he say, he loves you.

⊹ Oh and they're super high maintenance, much more than most kids. The twins do very little to actually help and just add to the chaos for most part.

⊹ The perfect balance of the two of you.

⊹ The little girl would have his green eyes with your hair and is just gorgeous.

⊹ The personality is a mix of both, except she is as smart as her father.

⊹ If you're an extroverted then she might be more outgoing compared to Zayne, though still enjoys sitting and playing by herself.

⊹ Annoying father = Annoying children.

⊹ Okay okay I'm joking! Kind of. The children all get his purple hair and dramatic flair.

⊹ And that my friends results in the little ones and their dad to butt heads all the damn time.

⊹ The only person they listen to is mommy, including Rafayel.

⊹ The mermaid lineage is also very strong so invest in a much bigger bathtub and prepare your heart for the water bill.

⊹ I totally agree with you that this man's genes are very stubborn.

⊹ You get a literal duplicate of him when that sweet little boy is born, personality and all.

⊹ This extends to his obsession with his mama and their silly banter over who gets to cuddle you to sleep. (He lets the little one wins because his heart is weak)

⊹ Personally though? Caleb wants a perfect mix of the two of you if you're willing to keep trying.

[bjlipss]

— until the quiet finds you;

༉‧₊˚. synopsis: you’re 24, a single mom just trying to survive off of temporary jobs—until a chance elevator ride with gojo satoru, the too-charming ceo of gojo industries, shifts everything. what starts as coffee and kindness slowly turns into something real. but when you’ve spent the last 2 years in survival mode, learning to trust might be the hardest thing of all.

contents: ceo!gojo x single mom!reader, slow burn-ish, slice of life maybe? fluff, some angst, trust issues ig, very exhausted reader, eventual smut, office setting, i will add warnings as the story goes on! current word count: 9,6k. header art: @_3aem on X.

miyan’s notes: i’m so sorry for the long wait!!! i hope you guys enjoy this :))

chapter 1 <- chapter 2 -> chapter 3

mornings start early.

too early, if you’re being honest.

tomo wakes up around five-thirty these days—grumpy, half-hungry, and somehow full of energy despite not sleeping through the night. it’s a cruel magic, the way babies defy exhaustion with wide eyes and flailing limbs, like they’re immune to the laws of physics.

you’ve mastered the art of one-handed bottle prepping and diaper changes in the dark. your body moves on autopilot now: shuffle to the kitchenette, warm the bottle while bouncing tomo on your hip, whisper soothing nonsense into his ear even though your eyes are barely open. the floorboards creak like they’re complaining. the fridge hums. the radiator clicks. it’s a tired symphony you’ve come to know by heart.

by six, you’re both on the floor, surrounded by plastic stacking rings, a half-eaten teething cracker, and the giraffe tomo loves chewing on more than any pacifier you’ve ever bought. the news plays low in the background, not that you’re listening. it’s just noise—something to fill the quiet and keep your mind from spiraling.

your apartment is small. one room that serves as bedroom, nursery, and living space all at once. the kitchenette is barely a step away from the foot of your mattress. the bathroom door doesn’t close all the way unless you jiggle it just right. there’s a crack in the ceiling you’ve learned to stop noticing, and the window sticks if you try to open it too fast. the wallpaper near the radiator is peeling like sunburn.

but it’s yours. it’s warm. it’s safe.

barely paid for, held together with goodwill and duct tape, but clean enough that you can pretend. pretend this isn’t the furthest you’ve ever felt from the version of yourself you used to be.

tomo babbles through most of his morning bottle, half-asleep in your lap, his tiny fingers tangled in the fabric of your stretched-out cardigan. sometimes you just sit there like that, still and quiet, the two of you curled up on the thin rug, watching the light crawl through the blinds while the rest of the world wakes up without you.

this morning is no different.

except it is.

because today marks a week since your temporary shift at gojo industries.

a week since the elevator. the accidental coffee date. the skyline office. him.

you’ve stared at that business card more times than you’d like to admit. it lives on the windowsill now, right beside the sad little basil plant that’s somehow hanging on by a thread—much like you. you water it out of habit, even though the leaves are already curling. something about it makes you feel less like you’re failing. like maybe hope is still salvageable.

his number is written on the card in looping, swooping handwriting. only if you say yes, he’d said.

you’re not.

you don’t think you are.

but every day, that little white card weighs heavier in your chest. the possibility of something better. something different. terrifying and fragile and real.

gojo satoru offering you a job felt like something out of someone else’s story. not yours. someone with options. someone with time. someone without a baby strapped to their chest and formula stains on their shirt and a bank account that makes your stomach hurt to look at.

and yet his voice keeps echoing in your mind.

you shouldn’t have to choose between your kid and your career.

you wish that didn’t make you want to cry.

you think about the day everything changed.

you were sitting in your old boss’s office, clutching a printout of your blood test results with fingers that wouldn’t stop shaking. the numbers were clear. the double lines were real. and in that moment, the version of you that had worked late nights, prepped pitch decks, graduated with honors, mapped out five-year plans—she disappeared.

your ex didn’t stick around long. he panicked. said all the right wrong things. “it’s not the right time.” “we’re too young.” “you’ll ruin your future.” then he ghosted, like a bad memory you still dream about.

your mother didn’t react much better.

she stared at you like you were an alien. like she didn’t know the girl sitting in front of her. you can still hear her voice—tight, cold, disappointed.

“you had potential.”

“you could’ve done something with your life.”

“don’t expect me to clean up after your mess.”

you chose tomo anyway.

and that choice cost you nearly everything.

she stopped calling. stopped asking. months passed in silence. and when the silence finally broke, her voice was always clipped, edged with guilt and bitterness. she never apologized. never asked if you were okay. just called occasionally, like she wanted to check if you were still struggling.

today, the phone buzzes on the counter like it knows.

you glance at the screen. mom.

you hesitate. but you answer.

“hello?”

“so,” she says, immediately, “did you find another temp job yet?”

no hello. no warmth. no curiosity about her grandson.

just judgment in the shape of a question.

your jaw tightens. “i’m figuring it out.”

a pause.

“you know, if you’d just moved back in with us when i asked, you wouldn’t be scraping by in a shoebox. but no, you always have to be so independent.”

tomo stirs in your lap, sensing the shift in your energy. you press a hand to his back, trying to stay calm.

“i’m doing the best i can.”

“well, your best clearly isn’t good enough if you’re still struggling. maybe if you’d listened to me before getting involved with that deadbeat—”

you hang up.

not intentionally. not dramatically. just… automatically.

your hand moves faster than your brain.

the silence afterward is deafening. it fills your ears, your chest, your throat. you press your lips together. hard. try to blink the heat out of your eyes.

tomo reaches up. his hand brushes your cheek.

and you break.

quietly. completely.

because this isn’t just about a phone call. it’s about every time you’ve felt like a disappointment. every time someone looked at you and only saw a mistake. every time you told yourself this is enough, even when it wasn’t.

you hold tomo close. breathe him in. he smells like oatmeal and baby soap and home. he looks up at you with those big, blinking eyes like you are his whole world.

and maybe that’s what makes your hand move.

you reach for your phone. pull the business card off the sill. trace your thumb across his name.

gojo satoru.

you open your messages.

type. delete. type again.

your fingers are trembling.

then, finally, you hit send:

hi. it’s me.

i’ve been thinking.

can we talk?

you stare at the message. the little “delivered” icon pops up. the screen goes still.

tomo gurgles softly, gnawing on his fingers like he knows something’s shifted.

you exhale slowly. your heart is pounding.

you don’t know if this is the right decision. you also don’t expect an immediate reply.

gojo satoru strikes you as the kind of man who’s constantly busy—meetings and contracts and boardrooms with floor-to-ceiling windows. the kind of man who probably has three phones, all managed by assistants in suits sharper than your best kitchen knife. the kind of man who silences his personal messages after a certain hour because nothing is ever that urgent. who leaves people on read because he can. because that’s what powerful people do.

and you’re not anyone important. you’re a temp who spilled coffee on her blouse and once cried in the break room over an expired granola bar.

so when your phone buzzes—less than two minutes after you hit send—your breath stutters.

come by the office tomorrow.

10 a.m.

i’ll be waiting.

no emoji. no fluff. no awkward exclamation point to soften the impact.

just quiet, grounded certainty.

like he already knew you’d say yes.

like this was never a gamble to begin with.

you stare at the message, rereading it so many times it starts to blur. your thumb hovers over the screen, like you might reply. like you might ask, are you sure? but your heart is already racing, too fast, too loud. you can hear it in your ears.

tomo babbles beside you, kicking his chubby legs on the couch cushions and patting your knee like he’s trying to get your attention. like he can feel the shift in the air. the electric current in your chest.

“baby,” you whisper, eyes still on the screen, “what are we doing?”

he offers you a gummy, two-toothed smile in response. utterly unbothered. utterly safe.

ten a.m.

you don’t even have clean dress pants.

panic clicks in like a switch.

you check the time—already past seven—and scramble to your feet. tomo lets out a squawk of protest as you scoop him up and carry him to the bouncer, apologizing softly as you buckle him in. he’s tired, cranky, but mercifully distracted by the blinking toy lights and the soft jingle of the hanging elephant.

you dart to your closet—a shallow thing wedged into the wall, the sliding door forever off-track—and rifle through hangers with increasing despair.

you pull out your nicest blouse. cream-colored, once. now vaguely off-white, with a few suspicious stains near the cuff and a hem that’s coming undone. still, it’s the only one without a cartoon character or formula spit-up on it, so it wins by default. you toss it onto the bed. dig out the one pair of black pants you haven’t worn to death, and hold them up with a silent prayer. they might still fit.

your stomach clenches.

you turn on the iron—cheap, secondhand, missing the water cap—and lay the blouse flat on a towel. the fabric hisses under the heat. it smells faintly of lavender detergent and old stress. you imagine walking into that skyscraper tomorrow, the doors opening with a soft chime, gojo standing there in his tailored suit, smiling like this is all perfectly normal.

and you—creased blouse, worn shoes, baby bag slung over one shoulder—walking toward him like you belong.

you don’t. not really. but maybe you want to.

and that want is dangerous.

you glance over at the business card on your windowsill again, resting beneath your sad little basil plant that’s more stem than leaves. it’s been there all week—untouched, waiting, like it knew you’d cave eventually.

you didn’t text him because you were ready.

you texted him because you were tired.

tired of shrinking. of pretending. of feeling like the world is slipping through your fingers while you juggle formula prices and unpaid bills and the lingering voice of your mother in your head.

you smooth the blouse down with your palm and stare at the makeshift outfit on your mattress.

it’s not perfect. it’s not polished or expensive or anything that screams “CEO material.” but it’s yours and it’s important.

your chest tightens in a way that’s hard to explain. not panic. not dread. just the slow, aching stretch of something you haven’t let yourself feel in a long time:

hope.

not the glittery, unrealistic kind.

but the quiet, stubborn version. the kind that crawls into your lungs when you let your guard down for half a second. the kind that whispers, maybe this time it’s different.

maybe this time, someone actually means it.

you scoop tomo into your arms. press a kiss to his soft, downy hair.

“we’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow,” you murmur.

he yawns, already half-asleep.

you sit on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, blouse cooling behind you, and stare at gojo’s message again.

10 a.m.

you don’t know what’s waiting on the other side of that elevator.

but you’ll be there.

and for the first time in what feels like forever—

you don’t feel alone walking toward it.

you step into the lobby of gojo industries at 9:56.

the security guard waves you through this time without a second glance. someone must’ve cleared your name.

you glance down at yourself once more. sweater neat. hair in place. tomo fast asleep in his carrier, his little nose pressed against your collarbone. you adjust the strap on your shoulder and exhale.

the elevator ride feels faster than last time.

you keep one hand against the cool metal of the wall and the other cradled under tomo’s bottom, grounding yourself with his soft, rhythmic breathing. you’re not sure what to expect when the doors open.

but you don’t expect him to be standing right there.

no assistant. no buffer. just gojo, leaning casually against the frame of his office doorway in a dark slate suit and a crisp white shirt, no tie, sleeves rolled up. he’s looking at his phone until the soft ding draws his eyes up—and when he sees you, he smiles.

not the cocky grin you’ve seen before.

something gentler.

welcoming.

“you came,” he says simply.

you nod, a little breathless. “i said i would.”

“yeah, but people say a lot of things.” his gaze drops briefly to tomo, then back up. “you look good.”

you huff a laugh. “i feel like a walking spit-up rag.”

he steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. “then you wear it well.”

you follow him into the office.

the space is just as pristine as you remember—sunlight spilling through the windows, soft leather couches, a faint scent of something expensive and citrusy hanging in the air. it should feel intimidating.

but it doesn’t.

maybe because he doesn’t make it feel that way.

“sit wherever you want,” he says. “can i get you anything? water? tea? another overpriced pastry?”

you blink. “…you remembered.”

“how could i forget? you were seconds away from stabbing me with a plastic fork.”

you snort, easing down onto the couch and shifting tomo slightly. he stirs but doesn’t wake. gojo sits across from you, legs crossed, that same calm expression on his face.

“i’m glad you texted,” he says.

you nod slowly. “i wasn’t sure if i should.”

“you should’ve.” he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “and i’m not just saying that to be polite.”

you study him. his tone, his posture, his eyes.

he’s serious.

“i’m not just saying that to be polite,” he says again, gaze steady.

you believe him. and that’s maybe the strangest part of all this—how easy it is to believe him. you’re used to sugarcoated pity, to people who speak in soft tones and wide eyes, offering hollow compliments as if they’re handing out charity. but with gojo, there’s none of that. just… honesty.

you look down at tomo, curled safe against you, and then back at him.

“so,” you say cautiously, “what exactly does ‘come by the office’ mean?”

he grins, leans back into the couch. “well, that depends. are you here because you’re curious, or are you here because you’re ready?”

you frown a little. “i’m here because i’m desperate.”

“wrong answer,” he replies, shaking his head. “try again.”

you blink. “excuse me?”

“you’re not here because you’re desperate. you’re here because you’re smart. because you’ve done the math. because you know you’re capable and tired of pretending that barely scraping by is some noble sacrifice.” he tilts his head. “desperation didn’t get you here. you did.”

you sit there, stunned.

“…that was weirdly motivational.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment.” he claps his hands once, like he’s shifting into business mode. “okay. here’s what i’m offering.”

your breath catches.

“there’s an open position in operations. mid-level, but room to grow. salary’s decent. benefits are better. part of your contract would include an in-office childcare stipend—either on-site or third-party, depending on what makes you more comfortable. i don’t want you worrying about coverage. i want you here.”

“what would i… be doing?”

“project tracking. internal comms. streamlining client onboarding. we’ve got systems in place, but they’re clunky. we need someone who can translate chaos into clarity. from what i’ve read about you—and what i’ve seen—you’re built for that.”

you stare at him.

he says it so matter-of-factly. like this isn’t some massive life change. like he’s not throwing you a rope in the middle of the ocean.

“gojo—”

“satoru,” he corrects gently. “you can call me satoru.”

“okay, satoru…” you exhale slowly. “i haven’t done this in a long time. i’m… rusty.”

“so oil the hinges,” he says. “you’re allowed to learn. you’re allowed to be human. hell, i’m winging half of what i do on any given day. we all are.”

your lips twitch into the smallest smile.

“i haven’t even updated my resume in years.”

“don’t care. i’ve already seen it.”

“…i don’t have a suit.”

“neither do half the engineers here. you’ll be fine.”

you look down, suddenly blinking back tears. you don’t even know why—nothing he’s said is new. he offered this before. said all of it, more or less. but hearing it again, spoken so clearly, with no condescension, no caveats—it hits different.

because he doesn’t just believe in your potential.

he treats it like a fact.

“you okay?” he asks, voice softer now.

you nod, throat tight. “yeah. just… processing.”

“that’s fair.”

a long pause stretches between you.

outside, the city glows gold and glass, the skyline catching every shard of morning sun.

“you don’t have to decide today,” he says gently. “you don’t owe me anything. this offer doesn’t expire.”

you nod again. then, after a beat: “you always this generous with your temps?”

he shrugs. “only the ones who make me laugh and threaten me with forks.”

you laugh, watery and real.

“okay,” you whisper. “okay. i’ll think about it.”

he smiles.

and something in you—something small and scared—starts to breathe again.

“can i ask you something?” you say quietly, after the laughter fades.

gojo’s still watching you—relaxed, open, sleeves rolled up, tie askew like he’s not the ceo of anything. like he’s just… someone. someone who happened to be in the elevator at the right time.

he nods. “sure.”

“why me?”

he doesn’t look surprised by the question. if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for it.

“because you didn’t flinch,” he says simply.

you frown. “what do you mean?”

“the elevator. the first day. tomo crying. the phones blowing up. half the execs acting like you didn’t exist—and you just handled it. no panic, no fake smiles. just you, doing what needed to be done.” he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “most people would’ve crumbled. you didn’t.”

you look down at your lap, cheeks hot.

“i didn’t really have a choice.”

“you still could’ve walked away.”

“yeah, well.” you adjust tomo gently in your arms. “he deserves better.”

gojo smiles, slow and thoughtful. “so do you.”

those three words settle heavy in your chest—simple, but seismic.

“i think you’ve been underestimated your whole life,” he continues. “and now you’re doing the same to yourself. i’m not offering you a favor. i’m offering you a damn seat at the table. because you’ve earned it. even if no one ever told you that before.”

you blink fast, because now your eyes are stinging.

you’re so tired of fighting for space. so tired of squeezing yourself smaller, of pretending you don’t want more than survival. you forgot what it even felt like to have someone see you.

and now—this.

him.

“i don’t know if i’ll be good at it,” you say honestly.

gojo tilts his head, then grins. “so what? that’s what training is for. you’re not a robot. you’re not supposed to be perfect.”

“i just… i’m scared,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “what if i mess it up?”

he doesn’t even hesitate. “then you try again.”

a beat.

“i’ll make mistakes.”

“great. so does everyone.”

“i might cry in the bathroom.”

“we’ve got tissues. very soft ones.”

you huff a laugh, wiping at your eyes.

“you’re really not letting me talk myself out of this, huh?”

“nope,” he says, popping the p. “not a chance.”

you breathe, deep and slow. then again.

tomo stirs in your arms, his little face smushing into your chest, a soft snuffle escaping him. instinctively, you run a soothing hand along his back, and the motion calms you, too.

“okay,” you say, finally. “i’ll take the job.”

gojo doesn’t cheer. doesn’t fist-pump or throw confetti. he just smiles—warm, genuine, and full of something you can’t quite name.

“good,” he says, voice softer now. “i was hoping you’d say that.”

another silence settles between you. this one gentler. easier.

you feel it now—that strange, tentative hope curling inside your ribs.

“i’ll email you the contract this afternoon,” gojo says as he stands. “start date’s flexible, but i’d love to get you onboard by next week. sound good?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “that sounds… really good.”

you shift tomo and rise slowly, adjusting the strap across your shoulder. he walks you to the door, hands in his pockets.

“i mean it,” he says one last time. “whatever you need—childcare, flexibility, mentorship—ask. you’re not doing this alone.”

you nod, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying again.

“thank you,” you whisper.

he holds your gaze a moment longer, then smiles, just a little crooked.

“you’re welcome.”

──────────────────────

you wake before your alarm.

not because tomo stirs—miraculously, he’s still asleep—but because your body is brimming with something close to anticipation. not quite excitement. not quite dread. somewhere in the middle. like standing at the edge of a cold pool, toes skimming the surface, heart hammering.

you watch him for a few seconds—your son, curled like a little comma under his blanket, his mouth slack with sleep. it’s rare to catch him this still. your phone says 5:38 a.m., but you already know you won’t fall back asleep.

today’s your first day.

you don’t let yourself overthink it. you can’t.

you just move through the motions—bottle, diaper, quiet lullabies hummed through trembling lips. you pull on the outfit you ironed last night (twice, just to be sure). hair pinned, blouse tucked. cheap drugstore concealer dabbed under tired eyes. you look… okay. passable. maybe even competent, if no one looks too close.

you drop tomo off with the woman from down the hall—mrs. suzuki, kind-eyed and no-nonsense, who agreed to help watch him for a few hours while you figure out the new schedule. she pats your shoulder and tells you to “go get ‘em, tiger,” which is strange coming from someone old enough to be your grandmother. but you smile anyway.

your bus is late, of course.

and then it’s crowded.

and then a man steps on your foot and doesn’t apologize.

by the time you reach gojo industries, your nerves are twisted tight in your chest, coiled like piano wire.

you recognize the lobby immediately—same pristine floors, same enormous glass windows spilling light in from every direction. same elevator.

you press the button with a shaky breath.

this time, it opens right away.

no crying babies. no spilled coffee. just the quiet whir of movement and your reflection in the mirrored walls, staring back at you like she’s still not sure this is real.

the 27th floor is sleek and intimidating. desks arranged in polished rows, computer monitors blinking to life. the sound of typing, soft chatter, the smell of fresh espresso. people move with purpose, confident and dressed like they know what they’re doing.

you do not feel like you know what you’re doing.

but you walk forward anyway.

“you must be our new admin,” a voice says cheerfully from a nearby desk.

you glance over. a woman—probably mid-thirties, stylish, smart eyes—rises and offers you a smile and a handshake.

“i’m rika. i work in project development. gojo told me to expect you.”

you nod, fumbling briefly before managing a proper handshake. “nice to meet you.”

“he’s in his office,” she says. “go on in. don’t worry—he’s actually on time today, which is a miracle.”

you give a nervous laugh and thank her, crossing the floor with stiff steps. the glass door bears his name in gold letters—GOJO SATORU, CEO—and your reflection wavers as you lift a hand to knock.

“come in,” he calls, already grinning as you open the door.

he’s standing by the window, suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up, hands in his pockets. casual. like he’s been waiting.

“you came,” he says, like he didn’t expect anything else.

you nod, closing the door behind you.

“i did.”

“and you’re still standing. impressive.”

“barely,” you admit, and that earns a warm chuckle.

“well,” he gestures to the empty seat across from his desk. “welcome to your first day. let’s make it a good one.”

—

he starts simple.

“i’m not throwing you into the deep end,” he says, sliding a stack of neatly printed documents across the desk. “no terrifying spreadsheets. no corporate jargon. not yet, anyway.”

you glance down at them. a list of contacts. an office map. a gentle breakdown of your responsibilities in plain, human language.

“you’ll be assisting rika mostly,” he explains, leaning back in his chair with a lazy sort of ease. “she runs project development and needs someone organized, fast-thinking, and impossible to intimidate.” he grins. “you’ve survived parenthood and public transit—i think you qualify.”

you huff a breath of laughter, nerves dissolving just a little. “what exactly does assisting her involve?”

“scheduling, emails, helping prepare reports, making sure our more chaotic team members don’t miss deadlines.” he pauses. “also, making sure i remember to eat lunch.”

you blink.

“i’m serious,” he says, holding up a hand. “rika tried. she gave up after a month.”

you shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “so i’m… part-time executive babysitter?”

“exactly.” he flashes you a thumbs-up. “you’re gonna be great.”

—

the first hour is mostly learning names. faces. passwords. where the emergency coffee stash is kept. your desk is tucked near the back corner—small, but sunlit, with a decent chair and a drawer that doesn’t stick. someone left a little sticky note on the monitor that says “welcome!” in loopy handwriting. you suspect rika.

it’s… quiet. peaceful. structured.

your fingers move cautiously over the keyboard as you set up your email. every so often, someone walks by with a nod or a friendly smile, but no one overwhelms you. rika checks in once with a smooth, “doing okay?” and offers you half a croissant from the breakroom.

by noon, you’ve sent your first batch of confirmation emails and helped organize a messy meeting schedule. nothing exploded. no one yelled. no one looked at you like you didn’t belong.

that alone feels monumental.

you eat lunch by the window—just a sad little sandwich from home, but it tastes better than usual. there’s a sense of calm in your chest you haven’t felt in… months.

and just as you’re finishing, someone taps on your desk.

“you didn’t remind me to eat,” gojo says, holding up his own sad little bento with an exaggerated pout. “you’re already failing me.”

you give him a flat look. “you’ve been in meetings since nine.”

“excuses, excuses.”

but he’s teasing, light and warm, and you find yourself rolling your eyes in a way you haven’t in a long time.

“how’s day one?” he asks after a beat.

you hesitate, then tell the truth. “better than i expected.”

he nods. “you’ll settle in fast. just don’t be afraid to ask questions. or tell me if someone gives you trouble. or if you need time for tomo. that’s not negotiable.”

the mention of your son tugs something deep in your chest.

“…thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” his voice drops, just a touch.

and then he walks off, humming to himself, leaving you blinking at the space he left behind.

—

by late afternoon, your fingers ache a little, but it’s the good kind of tired—earned and real. you check your phone. mrs. suzuki sent a picture of tomo gnawing on a rattle, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. your heart stutters.

you text her a thank-you. linger on the photo for a few seconds. then gently set the phone aside and return to your screen.

you’re not just surviving today.

you’re working.

you’re rebuilding.

you’re here.

──────────────────────

you make it to five o’clock without breaking anything. without crying, freezing up, or doubting your right to be here.

that, in itself, feels like a small miracle.

you pack up slowly—careful, quiet, your hands moving on autopilot as your brain replays the day like a reel. names and notes and little victories. no disasters. no one looking at you like you’re fragile or temporary.

just… steady, real work.

you’re slipping your bag over your shoulder when you hear his voice.

“heading out?”

you glance up, startled. gojo’s leaning against the nearest cubicle wall, jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loose around his neck. the office has mostly cleared, the usual hum of chatter and clacking keys now faded into evening stillness.

“yeah,” you say, adjusting your strap. “just—finishing up.”

he nods, eyes skimming over you—sharp, but not in a way that makes you nervous. just observant. curious.

“you taking the train?”

you blink. “um. yeah.”

a pause.

then, casually: “let me give you a ride.”

you stare at him. “what?”

he shrugs. “i’ve got my car downstairs. you’ve had a long first day. let me drive you.”

“you really don’t have to—”

“i know.” he smiles, boyish and light, like it’s no big deal. “but i want to.”

you hesitate. not because you don’t trust him—surprisingly, impossibly, you are more inclined to do rather than not—but because it’s been so long since someone offered without expecting something in return.

you grip your bag a little tighter. “it’s kind of out of the way…”

“lucky for you,” he says, already turning toward the elevator, “i’m rich and have no concept of time or fuel efficiency.”

you snort and something in his expression softens, like he’s glad he made you laugh.

“you sure?” you ask again.

“deadly.”

so you follow him.

his car is sleek, smooth, dark inside and out. it smells like leather and mint gum and something expensive you can’t name. the stereo’s turned down low—some mellow instrumental track pulsing like background noise.

he drives like he talks. relaxed. confident. one hand on the wheel, the other draped across his knee.

for a while, it’s quiet. the good kind. you watch the city roll by, neon signs blurring past. he doesn’t fill the silence, doesn’t ask questions he knows you’re too tired to answer. he just lets it be.

after a while, he glances over. “you hungry?”

“a little,” you admit. “but i’ve got leftovers at home.”

“hm.” he taps the wheel. “well, if you ever want something better than sad fridge rice, i know a great takeout place.”

“is this part of the job?”

“mandatory,” he says solemnly. “nobody works well when they’re underfed and miserable.”

you smile again—smaller this time, but real. “noted.”

he pulls up in front of your building without asking for directions. you don’t know why that doesn’t surprise you.

you glance up at your window. the light is still on.

“thanks,” you say softly. “for the ride. for… everything.”

he meets your eyes, one arm still slung over the back of his seat. “you’re welcome.”

you open the door, step out. the air is cooler now. crisper.

before you shut the door, he says—like it’s nothing, like it’s everything—“text me when you get inside.”

your breath catches.

you nod.

and upstairs, with tomo curled against your chest and the world finally quiet again, you stare at your phone for a long moment before texting back:

home. thank you again.

the reply comes seconds later.

anytime.

taglist: @nina-from-317 @theanaoevre @poopooindamouf @asxprse @satorusinfinityy @lost-but-done-for-you @changbinsalonsblog @satorupied @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @kanekisheart @ssetsuka @auroras-pleasures @bexxli (comment or dm me if ya wanna be added)

[dcxdpdabbles]

Not a request or ask but just a thought dump that a lot of people have amity park placed in the midwest n stuff which is cool, but then they don't give Danny those midwestern behaviors (i am also guilty of this as a midwesterner). I just think it would add a ton of comedy to the situation. Because being from a small city in the midwest with little nightlife and going into a densely populated city in the east coast that feels damn near always awake is like a major change.

Being from the midwest, it's a lot of polite kindness and greeting with big smiles, handshakes, and sometimes side hugs. Its lengthy hellos and even longer goodbyes as you slowly by slowly creep towards the door to leave but ur host just keeps bringing up 1 more thing they just *have* to tell you about. Its saying 'ope sorry' when bumping into someone when its not even ur fault. (I am gonna be completely real, i never even realized I said ope, sorry i just thought it was a joke others had for ppl in the midwest but then I listened to myself and was slack-jawed in horror.)

Its saying 'yall' unironically, even when referring to 1 person. The kindness to go the extra mile for people some times and becoming close friends with coworkers because you dont do anything else with ur life bc its the midwest.

Idk, i just think it would be funny, especially since the majority of the batfam were raised in gotham (typically placed in new jersey) and the difference in accents would most certainly be a giveaway that danny is NOT from gotham. And if his accent didnt give him away then the way he acts with such open kindness and wide smiles would most DEFINITELY give him away that he is NOT a Gotham native. And that makes me seriously giggle. Because in a city that is dealing with new rouges and the typical terrors, being used to rough faces and sneers, the most suspicious ones are the happy ones with wide smiles and open demeanors. And that is why danny gets singled out, not because he was caught going ghost, not because he was found bleeding ectoplasm, not even because of his mad scientist heritage and lack of self preservation, its because hes So Damn Nice And Smiley It Just Cant Be Real.

(sorry this got so long ive just been wanting to share my thoughts with someone and you seemed like a good fit lmao)

I love fics that explore this! Especially when the people of Gotham freak out because only the Joker's men or the people on something smile that wide at strangers.

Danny would consider it rude if people are always rushing, like he's used to people at checkout telling each other short stories, like their grandson graduating. Their daughter is getting married, or hey, I remember that show! - Nothing more than a minute or two, but people in the city don't do that.

They think he's trying to steal or something, because why is he trying to distract them at work? Why is he acting so friendly? It's super suspicious.

(Or something like that because I'm southwestern and that's how some tourists act when they come to my little rural areas lol)

[sunparadiso]

sylus been gatekeeping that dick for centuries.

virgin sylus x experienced reader/smut

Virgin Sylus is one of a kind, He waves around his lack of experience under your nose like something you should desire. His V-card all yours for the taking, come and get it.

And you do exactly that. Spending the night at his place, sinking his fat dick into your pussy. He was so thick-almost too much to take, you’ve never had anyone as big as he was. The way he forces your walls to make room for his cock bringing a pinch of pain that makes your eyes well up, but it only adds a min numbing edge to the pleasure.

“fuuck sylusss—“you whine as you raise your hips, your sticky pussy clamping on his tip before swallowing him up again, feeling his sparse white hairs tickle your folds “can’t believe you’d keep this dick from me”

Sylus could kick himself too-if he had known- had the faintest idea your pussy would feel this good on his cock you would’ve gotten it a long time ago, probably after the first time you sat on his lap.

“Mmh-forgive me kitten s-should’ve given it to you sooner— “ he groans “but you’re taking it so good-”

You're a little expert, riding him on the balls of your feets, your hands grasping his headboard on either side of his head, using the strength in those pretty thighs to fuck yourself on his cock.

you get to riding him even faster, “mhmm- ‘s all mine” you slur out you words, dripping off your lips like drool “-ouu fuuck syluss ‘s so deep in me”

Your words, so shamelessly filthy coming out of your mouth like babble. He was hooked and it urges him on, a primal desire to give you what he has, and making sure you receive it. You find yourself on your back, his large hands gripping the back of your knees pulling them up, barely grazing your nipples. The resistance he meets as he pulls back almost makes his eyes roll, sighing at the warmth flooding his cock again as his hips snap forward.

“Sylusss” It punches a moan out of your throat. you couldn’t do anything but lay there, Sylus pounding the same spot that made your stomach tingle with warmth, your hand finds your swollen pearl and the touch added just enough pleasure for you to tighten up ready to unravel. It puts a stutter in sylus’s perfect rhythm his hips bucking erratic, “o-oh fu-s-stop touching it sweetie-too tight you’ll make me cum- i’m not ready y-yet.”

You don’t listen to him. The combination of his cock rutting inside and the stimulation on your clit was too good to quit. Rubbing faster circles, your body starts to spasms, “feels so-o good-oh mm god—syluss ‘m gonna cum”

“How greedy” sylus growls, abandoning the restraint he tries to maintain just to savor his new found addiction nestled between your thighs. It makes him selfish, pounding your pussy to get himself right there with you, “I’m not pulling out sweetie-can’t-your pussy won’t let me go.”

Sylus commits the way you look when your orgasm rips through your body. It’s the last nudge he needs, gasping out your name as his climax hits him, spilling himself inside you, warm and generous load after another. He slowly grinds his hips to slow thrusts, letting your twitching pussy milk his cock.

“sylus” you whine softly “gimme a break”

“I know baby-“ he murmurs with a tender smile, “just hold on for little bit-want to give you everything”

that makes you smile teasingly, “tryin to make a kid so soon?”

“Time will tell I suppose” he says, it would be him to lose his virginity and become a father in the same time frame. But he wouldn’t be mad if he did end up getting you pregnant.Not at all.

When he slowly pulls out, Sylus has to bite back another moan when he watches his seed ooze out of your hole squeezing him out. He can’t help but spread you open and sink in two fingers pushing his nut back in despite your protests. What can he say? He loves to give especially to you- whether it’s his money or his cum.

[megsamforever]

Also (especially for coworkers) an easy hack is asking someone how their day/week is going, or if it's close to the weekend ask if they have any plans. A lot of people are happy to talk about themselves so if you get it started and then just listen and add comments to keep it going then boom, it's a whole conversation.

I'm neurodivergent but I love small talk because it feels like such a life hack and then people come out of it thinking that you are nice and social.

And it can be a way to pass the time, the security line was way backed up at the airport once and the woman in front of me was grumbling, so I said something like "wow this is super backed up, I've never seen it so bad", she agreed with me, then I asked if she was leaving or heading home (always a good convo starter at an airport) and we ended up chatting until we finally got to the front of the line.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[steviewashere]

I know we love writing Steve and Eddie as these big ol' romantic guys, like fully waxing poetics and throwing petals everywhere.

But. Listen. This is totally their dynamic.

*Eddie sitting on his couch during a movie night, Steve is in the opposite arm chair with a heaping bowl of popcorn in his lap*

EDDIE: You should come over here and cuddle me.

STEVE: I would, but I'm eating popcorn and also you keep farting. So I'm staying right where I am.

EDDIE: I am not farting! You're making up—

STEVE: *giving Eddie a you're bullshitting look*

EDDIE: Maybe I tooted, man! It's my couch, I can do whatever I want! Just get over here and cuddle with me. You've been at work all day and I miss you.

STEVE: Mm, but I'm eating popcorn, though. And you didn't want any. *shoves a giant handful into his mouth, obstructing his voice* I also know you. If I come over there, you're gonna stick your grimy hands into my popcorn and eat all of it and then when I ask you to make more, you'll whine and groan and be a big baby about it. So. *he shrugs, swallows his mouthful, immediately replaces it with more popcorn* No, I'm not gonna come over there.

EDDIE: *pouting* My hands aren't grimy.

STEVE: I can literally see the paint from your mini-figure things. I don't want paint flakes in my food.

EDDIE: *still pouting* It adds to the flavor.

STEVE: *deadpan* It leads to lead poisoning. *picks up a piece of popcorn and flicks it at Eddie, watching it bounce off his head* Leave me alone, I'm trying to watch the movie.

EDDIE: *sulking now, huffing and puffing to himself, arms crossed tight over his chest, not even watching the movie, instead watching Steve* I should've pissed in your popcorn when you weren't looking.

STEVE: *sighs* If I come over to the couch, will you stop being annoying?

EDDIE: I could be persuaded.

STEVE: *gets up and plops down next to Eddie, still holding onto his popcorn bowl* My hands are greasy with butter. I'm not cuddling with you yet.

EDDIE: *ignores him and goes immediately for the popcorn, scooping up as much as he can fit between his fingers and shoving all of it in his mouth—well, almost all of it, some of it falls into the ends of his hair*

STEVE: Eddie, come on! I thought you wanted to cuddle?!

EDDIE: *smiles, teeth, popcorn and all* Nah, I just wanted your food. Thanks, by the way.

STEVE: *sighs and resigns himself to having to share his popcorn* I have got to stop falling for this every time.

EDDIE: *loudly shushes Steve* You're talking over the movie, be quiet.

STEVE: I hate you.

EDDIE: No, you don't.

STEVE: *sighing again* No, I really, really don't.

*Eddie cuddles into Steve's side, stealing more popcorn as they both watch the movie...and then...a small toot is heard*

STEVE: Stop fucking farting, Eddie!

EDDIE: *cackling*

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:59 pm]

(cw: f!reader, alcohol mentioned but not consumed)

a/n: thoughts on the header??? I need validation or I die like tinkerbell

Could there have been a worse store to experience than a Costco on the weekend in the afternoon? Or really, any time of day. You weren't sure how you'd gotten roped into coming to Costco with your boyfriend, fratboy!Johnny. You'd been given a list to stick to and that would have been easy enough if you hadn't also brought Mark and Haechan along.

It was overwhelming enough to get through the doors, but you were sticking right to Johnny's side. There was no way you were losing hold on him with just how crowded it was.

"Alright, we're sticking to the list. Everybody stay close and nothing that's not on the list, got it you two?" Johnny states with a pointed look thrown in Mark and Haechan's direction.

"Fine," they groan in unison as you all make your way down the aisles.

Johnny thankfully keeps a tight hold on your hand, refusing to lose you to the Saturday Costco madness. It's a reassuring hold that helps you stay calm and keeps your anxiety at bay.

The cart starts to fill up soon enough, cleaning products, light bulbs, batteries- "yooooo! Bro, this big ass bottle of vodka is only 15 bucks!"

"We're not getting that Mark, put it back," you sigh, grabbing a few bunches of bananas to set in the cart.

"No, but if you do the math, it's only..." Haechan adds, resting his finger on his chin while he tries to do the math, "whatever, it's cheap!"

Johnny exits the refrigerated section with his arms full of different products. Do his arms always look this good at Costco? You may have to come with him more often.

He doesn't seem to notice your lingering gaze, "we have a list to stick to and alcohol isn't on the list. I say no and Bee says no, so but put it back."

Moving your way through the store, the cart fills up steadily. Finally, you make your way to the opposite side of the store where you can top up the cart with frozen goods and snacks. Johnny tosses a few boxes of ice cream bars, a few bags of frozen chicken, a few bags of coffee among other items that join the mass.

You sigh as you attempt to rearrange the nearly overflowing cart, "I think we should have gotten two carts."

"I'll go get one, Honeybee. Stay right here, alright?" Johnny offers with a soft smile, "Mark and Haechan can stay with you."

You pull a bag of mini chocolate bars out with your brows furrowed with confusion as you set the bag back on one of the shelves, "Mark and Haechan haven't been with us for almost 15 minutes now, lovie."

"They haven't?" Johnny asks with raised brows.

You laugh softly, "yeah, my love. They ran off right after you got the coffee."

"Mother-" Johnny growls, as he pulls out his phone and taps angrily. "Listen here, little shit, we're not here so you can play around. Both of you go get us another cart from outside and meet us in one of the aisles near the pharmacy."

You can barely make out Mark arguing through the speaker, before Johnny cuts him off, "but nothing Mark. You don't listen and now you need to make it up. You guys have four minutes to get back to us or I'm making both of you walk back."

"Be careful!" You call out, leaning up on your toes to be closer to the speaker.

Johnny sighs, tugging you into his arms. He rubs one hand down your back while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, "they stress me the hell out."

"Tell me about it," you laugh, placing a kiss on the left side of the worn t-shirt that covers his chest.

It's only an aisle later and three minutes later when there's a ruckus not too far away. When you look up, you feel like you should be surprised to two guys running toward you, but you don't. Your cheeks heat with embarrassment from everyone looking in your direction as Mark and Haechan come to a stop in front of you and Johnny.

"How long did we take?" Mark pants.

Johnny roughly grabs the cart and tugs it toward you with glare sent in their direction. Haechan smiles brightly, "yeah, what was our time?"

"I wasn't actually timing you idiots!" Johnny scoffs as he transfers some of the items into the empty cart.

"Dude! You suck," Mark groans, "yo, we still get pizza after this right?"

[eobe]

(Narrative ALT text by @eclec-tech ✨)

✨ The Mysterious Holographer! 😎🤌🤌

Alpha-17 is a dangerous man! 👀 If his mission is taking the best holopics, he‘ll succeed 🫡 Nobody is safe, no excuses! 😳 He even got the latest awesome shit holopad from GAR goods!

The reason why he’s the man to succeed this challenging mission, because he’s most likely the only one of the GAR that is actually able to force convince superiors like the grumpy Marshal Commander Fox and growling Commander Wolffe into a Commander Squad group holopic despite them being gothic styled! 😎✨

The conspiracy around the Mysterious Holographer is revealing now and you‘ll find a little gift and the reason for this collab under the gallery of Alpha‘s so far holoshots! 👀

✨ Holoframed conspiracy artworks

A neat gallery scroll with links to the original post and artist’s tags 😎 Also featuring the shiny CT-9075 and Alpha-17 as narrators in the ALT-texts 📖

Tahny barking at Hunter 🧨 by @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

"It was a Dark and Gothy Shiny Night" 🖤 A GAR Goth Night Story by @eclec-tech and the lost shiny holoshot – art collab by @wings-and-beskargam (the shiny) and @eobe (the background)

Archer the Mandalorian Sandalorian 👀 by @wings-and-beskargam

"Okay, barkeep. Listen up!" Tahny instructing the bartender to mix the Blue Ga'haiian drink🍹 by @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf – Check out that delicious receipe by the way 😽

Archer versus Captain Gregor – Flirtation Wars Round 👀✨ by @wings-and-beskargam

Jedi General Lupe of Lothal and ARC trooper Fives 💙 by @lonewolflupe

ARC trooper stealing a keg of booze 🥃 by @foxwithadarkside

Owl Squad entering the GAR Goth Night 🦉 by @eobe

Commanders' group holoshot 🫂 by @eobe

📸 ✨

Being the best of the best of the best (and having more fun than he would ever admit) means also that Alpha-17 uses the holopad like his weapons – fast and unerring! 🎯 He takes snapshots in the very moment when needed and will absolutely indulge the most fun and silly ones in the quiet of his office after the GAR Goth Night!

The following link leads to a shared Google file with a free-to-use transparent holopic frame artwork in DIN A4 size and neat printable quality (300 ppi), that I drew based on the design of the group holopic of Cody, Rex and the Domino Twins! 🤩🫶 I‘d love to be tagged, but no pressure – it’s a gift 💝

🔗 Holopicture frame overlay

Maybe some artist has a vision of what shenanigans Alpha might hunt with his holopad? 👀✨📸 You can use the transparent holopic-frame as an overlay to give your artwork a snapshot-, selfie- or group pic-like style – the "holopic"-finish! ✨📸 If you tag #mysterious holographer snapshot your holopic-artwork can be added together with your tag to another big post of Alpha's holopic-collection of the GAR Goth Night 😎 Unsubtle-unsubtle call to art action! 🤩

The reason for all of this 🥰

Marshal Commander Fox at the GAR Goth Night by @ghostymarni

The reason for this conspiracy is the person who started GAR Goth Night: Marni 👏🎉

She casually dropped this goth Commander Fox and didn't realise we'd go completely crazy over him and the concept of a goth-themed GAR event.

When more and more clones and OCs started to join in, none of us could have imagined how popular the night would get! We wanted to add some more mystery and gothspiracy to add some plot to the night, to show our appreciation to Marni, for her amazing ability to design and gothify anything Star Wars related! 🖤✨🌹⛓️🦇✨

Marni, thank you for hyping us up and getting this off the ground! 🤩 This wouldn't have been possible without you! This one's for you! 🫶

The Mysterious Holographer Conspiracy Culprits Credits ✨⭐️

Conspiring, plotting, arting, storywriting, texting and coordinating:

lonewolflupe

foxwithadarkside

wings-and-beskargam

crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

eclec-tech

eobe

Multiple tagging in here, because when the list gets stolen, some of us are always missing – so here's a (so far?) complete GGN taglist 😂

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas

[its-the-world-that-falls-away]

My I also add:

Doing jigsaw puzzles

Listening to audiobooks or podcasts (can be combined with doing jigsaw puzzles if you struggle to focus on listening unless your hands are busy

I also like to combine audiobooks with some sort of puzzle game on my phone (sudoku and nonogram primarily, but also things like candy crush. The important thing is that it’s easy enough to do that you don’t get distracted from the audiobook)

Taking a walk in nature (or just sit still I nature) without listening to anything in headphones – I recently started leaving my headphones at home when going for walks and holy shit my brain is loving it

im so serious about this but if youre autistic and especially if youre chronically ill creative labour cannot be your only way to relax. working on a creative project is still working. take time to do nothing. its good for you i promise.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Post Forsaken Survivors HC's!!!

- Time in the purgatory goes faster then in the real world, for survivors it feels like hundreds of years, while they were missing for around 5 years (or more, but not more than 10 years) in the real world. Also survivors don't age in purgatory.

- Once the survivors escaped, they reappeared in the place they were locked when they got Forsakened. (Meanwhile Killers got randomly spread around the World)

^ For context, I headcanon that people in spawn cult live in a village in the middle of forest, cut out from the rest of the world. When Two Time was granted their second life other people tried it too, so the 'more sane' members moved away and the village got abandoned. So when Two Time appeared back from the Forsaken, they realised that they are all alone in village that was abandoned years ago and they have no idea where is the nearest civilization and have to fend for themselves. Add to it a PTSD from the purgatory, they weren't having a good time.

^^ Eventually they were found by Forsakened Admins, who were looking for survivors so they could help them start over. They started living with other survivor until they were mentally better to live on their own (it took some time)

- After coming back Builderman, Shedletsky and Dusekkar started looking more into cults of Robloxia, because they saw how much damage they can do to a person. The admins took action and saved a lot of people.

- Survivors keep in touch with eachother, because they got really close and it feels good talking with someone who went through the same things. They have group therapy. (Survivors found family!!!)

- Survivors have scars from the deepest wounds they got, they also suffer from phantom pains.

- Of they learned about it, some people would view survivors (NOT admins) as insane people. After all "they went missing for years, now they come back talking about killers and dying over and over again". For normal people it's insanity.

- ! This one is related to HC I made, where 007n7's hacking incidents were added to history books ! After being trapped in Spectre's realm for who knows how long, survivors (even Elliot) slowly started trusting 007n7 more, because spending a lot time together made them realise that he really did change. Once they escaped, Builderman made sure to add in history books fact that 007n7 changed and how he helped them in hard times, so slowly people started seeing positive side of him.

- Admins decided to keep the existence of Spectre hidden from public, until they deal with it. They escaped because Spectre ignored a "small glitch" in the game. Now admins are in full power, aware of it's tricks and actively hunting it down.

- Eventually Survivors will bump into the Killers, but outside the purgatory/Spectre's control, they are more willing to listen. Killers were also mistreated there, so they made an alliance with survivors. With time both groups slowly created bonds with each other. (Which means that each survivor & killer duo eventually got their happy ending!!! Even Shedletsky and 1x1x1x1!!! I love Dadletsky)

~ Purple Anon

I enjoy the concept of time being faster in purgatory than in real life. Imagine being stuck in literal hell for what felt like hundreds of years, only to learn that it had only been five years? That’d drive me insane.

I’m paying for their group therapy don’t worry, they’ll be okay!

And DADLETSKY HEADCANONS YES!! I LIVE FOR THEIR DYNAMIC

[skzstarl0ver]

I know you did a long distance Felix but can you maybe do an in person one. It would make me really happy. and if you would allow me I'd love to reblog it if you do. But over all I absolutely love your work ♡

if you do accept my request please make sure to tag me if you can.

Love, Ember_Fires ♡

ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

Hii @emberfiresbitchy I wasn't 100% sure what kind of fic you prefer so I just mixed a little bit of smut and fluff, I hope you like it xx

Lee Felix x reader / classmates to lovers / slow burn / smut / fluff / one shot

**involves!!** sex, strong tension, cursing, teasing, dirty talk

enjoy xx (request open)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

There’s a rule in our class that everyone hates, except for maybe two people.

Every Friday, Ms. Jang makes us add one song to the shared class playlist. She says it “fosters emotional intelligence and communal bonding through sound.” I say it’s just a way to expose everyone’s deeply embarrassing music taste.

But fine. Whatever.

At first, it was funny. Someone added “Barbie Girl” ironically, another added a 12-minute Norwegian death metal track that played at full volume while we were doing worksheets. But then..

The first time I notice it, I’m curled up in my dorm bed at midnight, trying not to cry over a theory exam I definitely failed. The shared playlist starts auto-playing, and instead of some chaotic EDM garbage or meme audio clip, it’s… soft.

Lo-fi. Gentle. Intimate.

The lyrics?

“I keep noticing you.” “How you laugh. How you lean back in your chair like you own the world.” “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

The title is even worse: “if you knew what i felt, would you smile?”

My heart clenches.

I glance at the username. felixlee

We barely talk. He sits a few seats behind me in class, always in hoodies, always with that quiet, raspy voice that makes you want to lean in closer. He laughs easily. Smiles like he means it.

We’ve had small talk about—coffee machines, shitty printers, dumb assignments—but never anything real.

So why does this song feel like a secret he accidentally let slip?

The next week, he adds another one. And then another. Every Friday night like clockwork, after everyone else has already dropped their songs, he adds his: quiet confessions buried in dreamy lyrics.

“You smile at me like I matter. I don’t think you know what you do to me.”

I don’t say anything. I pretend I don’t notice.

But I do.

I start listening alone in my room, legs tangled in blankets, headphones in, heart in my throat.

I start looking at him differently, too.

The way he drums on his desk absentmindedly. The way his hair flops into his eyes. The way he’s started waiting at the classroom door for me.

I tell myself it’s a coincidence.

But when I laugh too hard one day and glance behind me, he’s staring.

And smiling.

We get paired for a midterm project.

Three weeks of working together. Study sessions. Shared notes. Coffee runs. Him leaning over my shoulder to look at my screen. Me catching his scent—clean and warm and a little vanilla—and pretending it doesn’t do things to me.

He teases me constantly.

“You always chew your pen when you’re stuck. It’s cute.”

“Is that a playlist of sad girl indie music? On brand.”

“You gonna steal another one of my pens?”

I roll my eyes. I call him annoying. I think about kissing him every goddamn day.

It finally breaks one night, deep into our last project session.

We're sitting side by side on the floor of an empty practice room, laptop between us, snacks spread out, low music playing from his speaker.

“I like your taste in music,” I say casually.

He glances at me. “Yeah?”

I nod. “I’ve been listening to your playlist songs.”

A pause.

His voice drops, quiet. “What do you think they’re about?”

“I don’t know,” I lie. “Someone you like?”

He looks at me. His eyes are soft and unreadable. “Yeah. Someone I’ve liked for a while.”

My breath catches.

He leans closer.

The air between us snaps.

And then he kisses me.

It’s soft. Gentle. Warm.

His lips move against mine slowly, like he’s giving me time to pull away.

I don’t.

I kiss him back—harder, messier. My hands in his hoodie. His fingers sliding into my hair.

We’re breathing into each other’s mouths, flushed and panting, when he pulls back just enough to whisper, “Do you wanna—?”

“Yes.”

We stumble into his dorm thirty minutes later, soaked in rain and adrenaline.

He shuts the door behind us, then pins me to it—gently, hands braced beside my head. He kisses me again, slower this time. His tongue slides against mine and I groan softly.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he breathes.

My shirt is gone before I realize it. His hoodie follows. I run my hands down his chest, and he shivers under my touch.

He lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to the bed and lays me down like I’m something delicate. Then he kneels between my thighs and just looks at me.

“Been thinking about this for weeks,” he murmurs, fingers sliding under my waistband.

I whimper. “Then stop teasing.”

He grins—and pulls everything off me.

His mouth on me is heaven.

He licks slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on mine while he holds my hips in place. I moan shamelessly when he flicks his tongue just right. His name slips from my lips like prayer.

When I come, it’s with his fingers inside me and his tongue still working my clit.

He climbs up my body after, kissing his way up my stomach, chest, throat, lips. “You okay?” he asks softly, voice hoarse.

“Condom,” I whisper.

He grabs one from the drawer. Rolls it on. Lines himself up—

And sinks into me with a groan that sounds like he’s been holding it in forever.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, forehead pressed to mine. “You feel so good.”

He moves slowly at first. Deep, languid strokes that leave me gasping. He holds my hands above my head, kisses my mouth every time I moan. It’s not rushed. It’s not just sex.

It’s him saying everything the playlist couldn’t.

When I come again, I cry out his name. He kisses me through it, whispering how beautiful I look, how much he likes me, how he can’t believe he finally has me like this.

He follows right after—hips stuttering, breath catching, forehead pressed to mine like he never wants to let go.

We lie tangled in his sheets after, sweaty and breathless.

His arm is wrapped around my waist. I’m tucked into his chest. He kisses my forehead and murmurs, “You know they were all about you, right?”

I smile against his skin.

“I do now.”

The next morning, he adds a new song to the playlist.

“your name tastes better than coffee.”

And that’s when the class group chat blows up.

I feel like this one was kinda short but I still hope you liked it xx

[waynes-multiverse]

Follow up 🤓👇

If you like this vibe, you're gonna LOVE the eventually Colter x reader series I do 😂

Oh, this is exactly my vibe! 😂👏

Ngl, The Tortured Poets Society played on repeat A LOT during writing on this one 😂 He's My Man actually comes from "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" as a little play on how Russell doesn't fit with normal people but perhaps with the reader, she could be that person that clicks with him.

Hahaha I love that you listened to the album while writing this! It’s honestly a very inspiring album in general (aren’t they all lol). But I can totally see I Can Fix Him now!!! Especially since she was a fixer as well and “fixed” him both physically and emotionally. So clever!!! 😍

And agree to them slowing down! That was an adrenaline rush for both of them. Let those hearts calm down a little lol. But I love to see them mature and how their relationship will bloom 💕☺️

And her bonding with Colter was honestly precious

Nah, we love that energy around here. See Exhibit A, my lovely little serial killer!Dean x reader story (and series) 😂 Owen honestly got off easy for how fucked up he was.

Ooooh, I have to add that one to my reading list! 👀🖤

That scene in the books is one of my favorites and does a very good job of showing that kind, sensitive side to these boys that the show misses out on sometimes. Like especially how that book ends. Gah, it tugs on my heartstrings.

Same!!! I loved that scene and was so sad at the end 😭 Something there actually inspired The Exit Strategy back then (You may like this one – it’s a CIA agent reader, and I’m currently writing a prequel where they met in Iraq). But it was when Mary Dove asked Colter if Russell had a family, and Colter told her he didn’t due to his job. My mind instantly went, “Hold my beer! I’ll fix that and find a loophole.” 😂

I think show Dory went with the aunt and uncle as well? I think? I'd love to see more of show Dory and see if she's like book Dory cause damn, that girl is just living her normal ass life until her brothers call. Then it's all go bags and super spy crap and it all happens OFF PAGE. 😂

Oh, same! I still wonder what her husband thought of all of that. How the hell do you explain that and still live completely normal? 😆 And I can’t remember what the show narrative was on her. I’ve honestly only seen her episode once. I should do a rewatch soon 🤔

And PS: Absolutely no hurry on TAT (or feeling forced to leave extensive comments)! Those chapters are lengthy lol. I’ve apparently entered my tumblr era of not giving a fuck and decided to always go with the story I wanna tell, no matter what. I love that books have 3 page chapters and 80 page chapters, so why not do it in fanfic as well? 😂🤷‍♀️ (But seriously, no pressure. Real life is exhaustive some weeks, so I totally get it. Same boat, friend 😘🩵)

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

“I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[ghouljams]

personally i always saw price as just normal protestant but also he could def be atheist

im kinda on the fence religiously, raised protestant but now i kinda just go based on vibes since i realised that my old church has nothing for me anymore

I'm just trying to add a little variety, a little pizzazz, a little hot-cha-cha

I think Price grew up in an incredibly strict household where being "Christian" was the most important thing a person can be. A real "no hate like Christian love" household where he and his mum were under his father's thumb, constantly being held to impossible standards and sitting in church on Sunday like they deserved to be holy. The kind of people that would go to an LGBT pride event to tell people that they were going to hell. The kind of people that tried to push Price towards the ministry and marriage, and the only out he could find was enlistment. The sort of people that don't call their son or take his calls (as if he'd ever bother calling) because he's "betrayed God" by leaving the church and they can't be associated with sinners.

You know, the sort of man that makes you call him "father" and "uncle" in the bedroom because he's been told for so long that all sex is sin so he's just tumbled deeper and deeper into it. Who holds a gun against your temple as you ride him and coos at you to keep bouncing even as tears start to cluster on your lashes. Who respects women and is a fierce feminist because his father never let his mother have anything, and he's tired of seeing good women broken down by mediocre men, except for you :) you're just a silly little girl who needs to listen to your man, a little breaking is good for you :)

[xetlynn]

Scars and Faint Memories

Vanessa Palmer x Fem! Reader

chapter four<- -> chapter five -> chapter six

warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, drinking and driving. Lottie’s crash out.

1996

You sit with Coach, Misty and Travis inside the cabin as the song “This is How We Do It” by Montell Jordan plays via your walkman in a metal bucket. Mari counts from the start. “One, two, one-two-three-four.” 

And on cue the girls, plus Javi break out into their choreographed dance that they’ve created from being here so long and having nothing better to do. They were grateful for your walkman and extra batteries you brought. As were you since this is one of your enjoyments in life. 

“And running man, running man!” Mari, Akilah, Lottie and Van say so the girls do the next steps in the dance. You cheer for them beside Coach, the two of you grinning at them. You weren’t much of a dancer. As much as you love music you didn’t particularly relish in dancing. You did however appreciate watching the others have fun. 

Jackie, Shauna, Natalie and Laura Lee lead into the next move: the Bart Simpson. “And Javi- Javi, you’re late!” Mari calls out the boy to which you laugh. He hurries to get on beat, Taissa jumping in to assist and the group re-synchronizes. Misty applauds the girls. You peer over to see Travis even grinning at the girls. 

But good things weren’t meant to last, especially out here. The tape begins to struggle and the song slows down, distorting eerily before stopping completely. The girls stand helplessly and you go over to it, along with Van who picks it up. Giving it a few smacks filled with hope but to no avail. You frown. 

“Has hitting something ever fixed it?” The redhead murmurs, mainly to herself. “Maybe try blowing on it.” Mari suggests and you take the small thing from Van and deeply frown. This was your sense of comfort. Something you’ve held onto ever since you got it.  You had no more batteries. You put the last ones in it last week. 

A sustained scraping noise emits from upstairs in the attic and Jackie is the first to speak. “Um. The fuck is that?” 

“You hear it, too?” Lottie asks and you give her a strange expression. “It’s probably just a branch.” Taissa replies, not believing there could be something up there. “Inside? On the floor?” Mari crosses her arms, then a small realization hits her. “What if it’s him?” She motions, bringing up the dead guy. Both you and Taissa snort. 

“You know what it probably was? The dead guys missing fingers… trying to find their way home.” Natalie deadpans and you bump her with your hip, the two of you finding it amusing. This prompts squeals from the girls though and a glare from Taissa. “You really have to encourage them?” 

“You gotta admit, it didn’t sound like it was on the roof.” Akilah says with a shaken expression. “Fine, so it was a rat. Or, a raccoon. Or, I dunno.” Jackie pouts. “Shh! Listen!” Lottie quiets everyone. Everyone pauses, but there’s only silence. “Well I don’t hear it now.” Mari huffs. 

“See?” Taissa rolls her eyes and before it can grow into a debate Coach Scott finally adds into the conversation. “You know what I think? I think the ghost decided it’s time to get some sleep. Maybe we should do the same.” 

This doesn’t lead to an argument, the girls all getting their sleeping equipment out and you cling onto your walkman sadly. Setting up your blankets with your empty hand. “I’m sorry, [Name].” Natalie whispers and you just shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, I got a bit out of it.” You sigh, gently placing it inside your backpack. 

The two of you set up beside one another like you have been since the beginning. 

Van observes you from afar, the candle light hitting you perfectly. She can’t get over how ethereal you are. How the curvature of your face always captures light and shadows perfectly. It never fails to amaze her. Taissa comes up from behind the redhead, following her eyes and seeing you. She scoffs out a chuckle. Earning Vanessa’s attention and she furrows her brows up at the girl. 

“What?” She whispers and Taissa gives her a “are you serious?” look. “Right.” Van sighs, sitting down on her blankets. “You two seriously aren’t talking still?” Tai joins her on the ground. You glance over to them as you lay in your spot, holding onto Natalie’s hand. Playing with her fingers like you’ve done since the two of you started having sleepovers years ago. 

You wonder what the two are talking about, completely oblivious to the fact that it’s about you. Your jealousy seeps in at the sight of them sitting so close to one another. You wanted to be in Taissa’s place, but the fear of the unknown always crept up whenever you tried to speak to Van. 

The fear of what others would think about you. The fear of the secret you’ve held in for years coming out to people. The fear of rejectment, not only from Van but from others. You’ve spent so much time keeping to yourself, only holding onto your friendship with Natalie that opening yourself up to someone else was scary. 

Walls were built sturdy and you couldn’t let some girl knock them down. 

“No, she avoids me like I’m some kind of plague. I don’t know what I did.” Van runs a hand through her hair, racking her brain for ideas of what she could’ve done to you. “She will stand beside me when we’re with the others but if she finds herself alone with me it’s like I have some sort of repellent on me.” Van vents, staring off at the ground. 

Not seeing the eyes that stay on her from afar. Burning a hole into her head. 

“Try to like… corner her or something.” Taissa mutters, not knowing how to help in this situation to which Van laughs. “Yeah, cause that will really make her want me.” Van shakes her head at the suggestion to which Taissa snickers as well. “I don’t mean like weirdly corner her. Catch her at a good time where the two of you are alone.” 

“That’s the thing, I have done that. Around the time we found this place. We got interrupted and nothing’s been better since.” Van explains and Taissa contorts her face, feeling bad. “Damn… what did you do?” 

Van’s face falls and she snaps her head in the direction of her friend. “Has anyone ever told you how helpful and comforting you are?” Van says with a wooden expression. Taissa presses her lips together at her own amusement. “I don’t think I have.” She admits. “Yeah, no duh.” Van breathes out sharply. 

Adjusting herself so she can lay down dramatically. Taissa sits there, raising a brow down at her. 

In the morning everyone is on the move. Everyone has synched up on their periods so it was cruel living. Pushing yourselves to do the chores that needed to be done with a grudge to the world. 

You were in extreme pain, feeling it in your lower back and legs. Still you pushed yourself to go find wood for a fire alongside Taissa. “Shit.” You stumble, dropping the wood you’ve collected and placing your hands on your hips as pain shoots through you. “You okay?” Taissa comes to your side, picking up what you’ve dropped. 

“Yeah, this just fucking sucks.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before sucking a breath and helping regrab the large wood that needs to be chopped up. “I’m sorry, I remember how bad your cramps were in middle school.” She sympathizes with you. 

“Yeah, and I didn’t bring my pain meds on this stupid trip cause I didn’t know we’d be fucking stuck out here.” You groaned, mainly complaining to yourself but still Taissa listened to you nonetheless. It was rare you vented to anyone and for some reason when you do people treat it as a privilege. “God damn.” You huff, kicking the dirt after standing up straight, moving the wood in your arms so you can grab the others from Tai. 

“I think I have some ibuprofen. If it gets too bad. Same with Misty” She offers and you shake your head. “We should save it for emergencies or the others, God knows how long we’ll fucking be here.” You say in a sad but irritated tone. You knew you could be real with Taissa. With the others you wanted to give them a sense of hope. Sometimes it’s too much though. 

“Oh, no more, don't worry, we’ll be saved in no time. We’re just in the middle of nowhere. It takes time. Coming from you?” She raises a brow trying to bring some sort of humor out which you snort. “We’re older, we gotta comfort them somehow.” You roll your eyes. 

“I mean they’re not that much younger than us. We shouldn’t give them false hope.” She tilts her head and you scrunch your nose at her words. “Probably but also having no hope doesn’t get you anywhere. You’ll get all “pity us, pity me, what’s the point of this if we are never saved.” You mock with a higher pitched voice and this time Taissa lets out a laugh. “Do you believe we’ll be saved? Truly?” The girl goes serious and you stop in your tracks. 

Rubbing your lips together as you think. “I guess, I think we will eventually. Who knows, we could be who saves us.” You shrug your shoulders as if it were a simple answer. Taissa takes in what you say. 

“What about you, Miss Turner?” You nudge her and she laughs in annoyance at your choice of nickname for her. “I want to say yes, that we will be. As the days go on I feel myself getting more restless. More drained emotionally. I want to go home. I want to fucking eat fries or some unhealthy shit.” She rants to which you smile at. 

“I miss my bed for sure.” She glances down to the wood. “I miss not having to chop fucking wood too.” And you chuckle, silently agreeing with her. 

You miss your siblings the most, yeah your bed and maybe even your mom. But your siblings. They’re all you can think about during this time. It keeps you up at night what they’re doing, how they’re processing you not being there. How your mom told them about your plane missing. Or if she told them something else. What kind of lie did she tell them? 

You shake your head, not needing to think about that right now. You feel your heart thudding in your chest and you take a deep breath in. “So… did you have a thing with anyone back home?” Taissa randomly asks and you give her a look. “I’m trying to make conversation here.” She defends herself and you just laugh. 

“No, I didn’t. Never really have had anyone… that way.” You mumble out, pursing your lips out at the thought of a relationship with a man. “You?” You switch it to her and she shakes her head. 

“Nah, not a lot of gay girls around.” She sighs and your eyes widen. Slowly looking at her, her eyes already on you with a smug expression. “You- you’re… gay?” You stammer. 

“Is there something wrong with that?” She inquires and you press your lips together, shaking your head furiously. “Not at all, I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting you to come out to me, I guess.” You breathe out nervously. 

Unbeknownst to you it was a test, not to see if you were homophobic. But maybe if she comes out to you, you’d do the same. Possibly leading to a conversation about crushes… Attempting to be a wingman for Van. 

“Sorry, I mean. I trust you. I had a feeling you weren’t homophobic.” She jokes half-heartedly and you smile. 

“Glad I give off those vibes.” You pretend to sigh in relief, walking ahead of her to get back to the cabin. Disappointing her with your lack of… coming out as well. She thought she set it up so… amazingly!

You toss the wood down beside the stump you guys have been using to chop the wood. Your next activity was cleaning up the cabin a little more so it felt more… home-y? It’s something you briefly mentioned to a few of the girls. Sort of agreeing that you can do it as a chore. As you enter the cabin you see Natalie nudging a sleeping Jackie with her foot. 

“Jackie. Up and at 'em, or something.” She mutters to which Jackie burrows deeper under the blankets with a whine. “It’s so cold. And I have cramps.” She complains to which you snicker. “No shit. We literally all have cramps.” Natalie rolls her eyes, peering over at you with raised eyebrows and you put your hands up in defense. 

Jackie pushes off her blankets, up to her feet begrudgingly. Natalie is already leaving the building to go off doing something else. Jackie looks at you who shrugs simply. 

“I feel your pain. We let you sleep in a little later though.” You give her an empathetic smile to which she tries to do back but frowns instead. You did argue a little bit with the others to just let Jackie sleep longer. Having most of the chores taken care of but of course they’re going to deem it unfair if someone gets special treatment. 

You glance around the kitchen area, humming lowly as you try to think of where to start. Getting rid of the old nasty shit could be best. You open all of the cabinets, observing what you’re working with.The dude that lived here was not very organized… You begin to wonder if the man was always alone out here. 

If he had a wife or a friend. And if not… Why would he want to be isolated? Why would he choose to be alone with his own thoughts? His own being? The thought of being truly alone with no one… ever… is a scary, scary thought. Which is funny because you hated socializing. You hated it with a passion. 

Or you just hated the idea of being judged and picked apart if someone got to know you. 

Nah… it was definitely socialization… 

You head to the pantry that also leads to the attic with a ladder. You look at what you’re dealing with in there as well. All the cans and jars. Either empty or filled with maggots and other bugs you couldn’t name even if you tried. 

And from outside the door of the cabin, there stands a certain redhead. Knocking up the courage to talk to you. Her chance to do so. She sighs at herself, walking over to Taissa. 

“I can’t do it.” She throws her arms in the air and the curly-haired girl makes a confused look. “She’s there, alone in the cabin and I can’t do it. I feel like a little bitch.” She exclaims and Taissa puts the axe down, wiping the sweat from her forehead. 

“I mean you are kind of being one.” Taissa says with no remorse. “Just act like you’re looking for something. I don’t know. If you really want to talk to her you’ll make something up.” She grabs the axe, looking at Van patiently to see what the girl’s going to do. Either bother her some more or go to you. 

“You’re so much help.” 

“So, I’ve been told.” Taissa rolls her eyes with a smirk, commenting back to last night’s conversation. “I tried helping you earlier, came out to her and everything. She did not have much to say.” She lets out a low whistle, looking down at the wood she still has to chop. 

“Why would you coming out to her help me?” Van asks with knitted bros. “I don’t know! Possibly lead to like… a conversation about girls we’ve been interested in! Ya know…” She looks back at how that was probably a stupid decision but at the same time doesn’t regret it very much. 

Van just sits there with a blankless look on her face not even knowing how to respond. “I’m gonna go talk to her…” 

She walks away and Taissa just goes back to doing her chore. Trying to hurry up so she isn’t swinging a heavy axe multiple times. Arms growing sore. 

2021

You felt yourself going crazy, quitting your job not even 72 hours ago. You lay on your couch with an almost empty wine bottle. Hair looks a mess, wearing a tank top with grossly stained sweatpants. Music playing in the background on your record player, specifically Fleetwood Mac. The only thing keeping you somewhat sane. 

You move your foot with the beat of the music, humming along with the lyrics. 

The past couple of days all you’ve been thinking about is the plane crash that happened years ago. You think about everything that went down. Everything you had to endure and experience out there alongside the few you’ve recently had the joy of reconnecting with. 

The anger that seeped through you all over again. As if you were back to where you were when you got rescued. Anger that’s even fresher than that. Losing the love of your life. Betrayed by a person you thought was a close friend.

And of course the most recent events of someone you didn’t care for but survived with, dead. Hung himself. Or to Natalie, your closest friend of them all, convinced that he was murdered. A fucking psychotic woman working with her to figure out if that’s truly the case. You have Shauna down the road who honestly only talks to you when it’s most convenient. Seeing Taissa after 8 years. After what she did. Attempting to give you some meekly apology.

Your younger siblings are out of state, miles away after your mother passed. Using their inheritance to do better for themselves. Sending cards or calling you every now and then, begging you to visit them.

The worst of it though. Is the fact that all of them have lives, living them without you. And you’re stuck in place. Living off money you made in your twenties and your mother’s inheritance. Not saying that they live better, or worse. Just that they’re living and you have no purpose in them anymore. That’s at least what you’ve convinced yourself.

You stand up suddenly from your spot, anxiety hitting you. The feeling of dread overwhelming you. “Shit.” You mumble, grasping at your chest. “Stop, stop, stop.” You plead with nobody, pacing around your living room. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You try to convince yourself, your hands shaking as you take in deep breaths. The feeling of panic wasn’t stopping any time soon though. You grab onto your hair, “Stop it! I’m fucking fine!” You shout into the air, yanking at your hair before hitting yourself in the head a few times. “Fucking please!” You cry out. 

Stumbling around as you’re begging to whoever is out there to stop this feeling. Taking the bottle of wine and smashing it to the ground. “God, what the fuck!” You sob with no tears coming out. 

You couldn’t stop it, after how many years of having these panic attacks you couldn’t stop it without someone else being beside you. A soothing voice or someone cracking a joke. Forcing you to listen to the music or the noises around you. You felt dizzy as you reached down for your phone. Unfortunately slipping on your rug and onto a rather large piece of glass. 

“Fuck!!” You howl in pain, you grip onto the couch, looking down at your calf that has a large chunk of broken glass sticking out. Gushing blood through your grey sweatpants. That sure stopped the panic attack… 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” You angrily express, glaring at the wound. You stand up with a wince. Forgetting about your phone and heading to the front door with a limp. You were huffing out of breath, stopping yourself before you did anything. You bend over, attempting to take the glass out yourself but you see the blood stain grow bigger on your pants. Along with the pain growing excruciating. “Yup. Hospital… hospital.” You grimace, snatching your keys off the hook. 

You shut the door behind you, practically jumping on one leg to your car, leaning against it as you swing the door open and plop down. Slowly remembering that you’re wine drunk. 

Should you be driving? No probably not but it’s your left leg and you’re not calling the ambulance to get a huge ass bill that you definitely could afford nor are you calling for help. 

You speed on your way to the hospital. Feeling yourself incredibly lightheaded but keeping your eyes open and focused on the road. You’ve been drinking and feeling the blood drain from your body was no help either. 

You pull into the parking lot of the hospital, climbing out and almost falling to the ground as you do so. Slamming the door behind you, you limp to the front doors of the emergency room. “Fucking hell…” You murmur, shoving your keys in your pocket. “Hello?!” You slur out, slumping against the front desk. 

A lady appears and gives you a weird look. “Hi, what can I do for you?” She asks and you laugh. “Um… my leg, I broke some glass, it’s in my leg.” You answer horribly and then point behind you to the blood that has trailed behind you. Her eyes widen and you grin sweetly with half-lidded eyes.

“You think I could see a doctor?” Is the last thing you manage to get out before passing out cold against the desk then your body slipping down to the ground. 

1996

You’re putting jars on one shelf as you put the rest of the cans that weren’t used for the shooting range outside and not in the pantry. Then you can use the jars to collect the berries and nuts, Keeping a neater storage. 

You heard footsteps creaking behind you but you don’t think much of it, continuing your thing. “Need any help?” A voice cuts through your silence and you peep over to see Van standing there. You feel yourself tense up as you shake your head. “No, thank you though.” 

“Can I just… stand here then? Like an idiot of course.” She adds in the last part and you press your lips together as you try to hold in a laugh. “If you have nothing better to do, I guess I can’t stop you.” You shrug your shoulders and she smiles. This is the most you’ve said to her in a while. 

And that’s saying a lot since you’ve only just said 17 words to her. Van patiently stands there, ever so often looking behind her to see if someone was going to head inside. 

“You going to talk at all?” You speak up first, surprisingly. “Being quiet is kind of a part of the whole idiot thing I was going for but you know… I can try talking.” She sarcastically answers and you let out a “pfft.” Looking over at her with a stupid lopsided grin on your face. “So talk, idiot.” You joke and she lands a hand on her heart. 

“Man, harsh.” 

You couldn’t stop smiling at her, trying to get back to your organizing but now all you could feel is her presence. “I really didn’t do anything… right? Like the reason we barely talk isn’t because of me?” She suddenly asks and you drop your hands to your sides with a small sigh. 

You knew you couldn’t keep this going, you couldn’t just continue to ignore her. As much as you wanted to push her away. “Van, I promise you, you did absolutely nothing.” You turn to face her to show you’re sincere. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting like this.” You say cautiously, not knowing what your next words are going to be. “I d- I don’t really know what to tell you it was… Other than the fact that you were getting too close to me.” You shyly admit. 

“So… I mean I did do something?” She says in a more inquisitive tone. “No, no, Van.” You laugh, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I got scared once I realized how close you were getting to me. Along with the fact that y’know you caught me fucking looking at a redhead on a porno magazine.” You blurt out, sort of without thinking but for some reason it didn’t hit you. 

Van stands there for a moment. “You’re gay?” She whispers and you let out a loud laugh. “That’s what you take out of that?” You hold your stomach as you can’t stop the giggles. It was probably the anxiety but it was also incredibly amusing. You couldn't believe you were coming out to someone. 

It was humorous because you knew Taissa was trying to get it out of you earlier too. “Well, are you?” She asks and you raise a brow. “Am I?” You tease and she looks expectant, like she needed to hear you say it. “I am.” You breathe out. “You?” You point to her and she purses out her lips. 

“Me? Nah, nah, definitely not.” She sarcastically says and you gently push her. “Okay, sure.” You move past her so you can grab some sort of container for the cans. “So… redheads are something you’re interested in, in a person?” She comes up behind you as you look for a container and you freeze. 

“They’re okay, I guess.” You try not to smile. “Just okay?” She was growing bold in this moment, taking her chance. “I think redheads deserve more love. I’ll admit that.” You pull a large plastic bucket from the bottom cabinet, turning around to face Van. “That we can agree on. The lack of love we receive…” She dramatically sighs and you scoff. 

“You finished your chore already?” You change the subject. “Yeah, just waiting for the laundry to dry now.” She tells you, right behind you as you take the bucket to the pantry. Placing the cans in it. 

“That’s cool, I wish I got laundry, I think I got a few splinters.” You pout out your lips and she makes a face. “I can check for you.” She offers and you place the bucket down. Shoving your hands in her direction. “Mm, you have two. I can get them later if you want?” She glances up at you and you nod. “Sounds like a plan.” You go back to what you’re doing. Van even helps you organize the area. 

Cleaning the cobwebs, and even cleaning out the dirty fridge that’s definitely not usable but it will possibly help get rid of smells. “I’m going to take a second outside, I’ll be back.” You tell the redhead who gives you a thumbs up in return, lifting up a heavy bunch of trash that will be burned by the fire tonight after dinner. 

Taissa comes up to you with a curious expression, nosey about what Van and you talked about. “Hey, [Name]! Wait for me!” She calls and you pause in your steps to look back at her. “Oh, what’s up, Tai?” You wait for her. 

“What’s that?” She asks, motioning to the bucket. “Trash from the fridge and pantry.” You answer, showing it off. “It’s gonna get burned tonight but I don’t want it near here for right now.”

Huffing as you carry it away from the site. “Makes sense, it’s fucking gross.” She gags at it, peering away from it to look ahead. “Yeah, I’m sick of the random scents when we’re going to bed.” You laugh, hefting up the bucket from slipping in your hands. 

“I think this is a good spot.” You call, heading over to a tree and placing it down. 

You wipe sweat from your face with your shirt before standing up straight. “I wish we had ac out here.” You complain, fanning yourself dramatically and Taissa hums in agreement. It’s getting colder out so in the same breath you were fine but the feeling of a fan or ac unit just hits differently. 

As you were going to continue your complaint, walking back to the cabin the two of you pass by the structure that holds the deer carcass. Shauna kneeled down by the blood. Startled by the both of you she hides something behind her back. “Sorry, we were just-” Taissa starts but Shauna shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Bolting out of there before anything else can be said. 

Taissa and you share a look with one another, confused. “That was weird, right?” She inquires with you and you nod your head. “Isn’t she the only one without a period?” You raise a brow and Taissa gasps. “Is she?” 

“I thought so but I don’t know.” You lift your shoulders. Glancing back to where Shauna just was. “Let’s go.” Taissa grabs your wrist and forces you to be a spy with her. 

“Thanks for jinxing me.” Shauna yells to Jackie who glances up. “Welcome to Club Flo. Call me when you’re ready to shake Misty down for Motrin.” 

Jackie holds your walkman, attempting to get it to work again. Something she asked last night before going to bed. She looks hopeful as she fights with the batteries but again nothing comes out. “Ugh. Fucking cocksucker.” You smirk. 

“[Name]! You still cleaning with me!?” Van calls from the cabin, steering your attention away from the captain of your soccer team. “Yeah, yeah!” You excuse yourself from Taissa’s side. She hesitantly lets you go without a smart comment. Giving Van a wink whose face grows warm at the gesture. Once you’re inside the redhead flicks up her middle finger. Tai laughed to herself, moving onto her chore.

 

2021

You wake up groggily with an IV in your arm and a large bandage on your leg. “The fuck?” You murmur, dazed as you blink yourself awake. A body comes to your side, grabbing onto your arm. Startling you, you look up. A glimpse of red hair. “Van?” You breathe out but as you come to, your vision fixes itself. Showing not red hair, but an orange sweater. 

“[Name]? You’re awake, are you okay?” It’s Taissa, you furrow your eyebrows angrily. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” You attempt to sit yourself up but you’re still heavily drugged up, grabbing at your IV but Taissa stops you. “Hey, hey, I got the call you were here. I’m still on your fucking emergency contact list. Not that I wanted to be here the day before Halloween or at all.” She explains to you and your chest heaves up and down. 

“What? I changed my- how the fuck?” You question frantically, not understanding what’s happening. You sit there quietly, glaring down at the cast on your leg. Thinking about your emergency contact. You never changed your contact after 8 years of not talking to Taissa. You close your eyes, not irritated with yourself. 

“They told me you had glass so deep in your leg is scratched against your fucking bone. You’re lucky it didn’t hit an important nerve.” She tells you and you side eye her with a childish pout on your lips. “They also said you were drunk, almost hitting the legal limit. How the fuck did you drive here?” Taissa scolds you and you scoff out a laugh. 

“Barely felt a buzz.” You roll your eyes. “You say that and next thing you know you’re throwing up for four fucking hours begging for Vanessa. You’ve done it for years.” She snaps, shutting you up. 

“Look, I need to go home with my family. You have someone I can call?” She asks, folding her arms patiently. You sit there quietly. “I’m fine.” mumble. “Great, so no one. You have no one who can drive you home?” 

Silence. 

“[Name], I can’t just leave you alone, you’re obviously going through some sort of mental crisis or some shit. Who can I call?” She questions and your jaw drops in offense. “I am not going through a mental crisis!” You defend yourself and she deadpans.

“Right, so if I go to your house right now, I won’t find dozens of your favorite wine with Fleetwood Mac or The Smashing Pumpkins playing? I know you better than that.” She spits to which you just “tch” in response. 

“Have you been taking your meds?” She sighs. “No, the pharmacy hasn’t refilled them.” You answer. 

“You’re going through a manic episode. Jesus.” She pinches the bridge of her nose and you grow quiet again. She’s right… you should’ve caught it too. It started with that idiotic hook up. Quitting your job? Oh what the fuck have you been doing? Your heart rate picks up, something Taissa catches. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just have to speak with your doctor. I’ll ask my wife if you can sleep on our couch for a bit.” She tells you and you want to argue with her. Scream at her, that’s not happening. Instead you just lay there, disappointed with yourself. Just like your father you have bipolar disorder. You were diagnosed with it after being rescued from the plane crash. 

It felt like your world was ending when you got that diagnosis. Fearful of ending up like your father. 

Taissa goes to the hall to call her wife. You stare at your bandage cover, all that for some stitches. Dramatic, much? 

Taissa drives you to your house in her large SUV. The two of you exchange glances every now and then with only the faint sound of the music from the radio playing. She pulls into her driveway and you raise a brow seeing your car already there.

“How did Juno get here?” You unbuckle and she stops you.

“I’ll go in for you. And Simone drove it when she heard what happened. Said it was such a piece of junk too.” She jokes and you huff. “You said that, Simone is too nice. And I’m going in whether I have to jump or you help me.” You open the door and she presses her lips together. Rushing out to get to the passenger side and help you down. 

You use her as a crutch, leaning your weight on her. “This take you back to when you broke Allie’s leg?” You smirk and she lets out a large breath in response. “[Name], shut up.” She grunts, helping you to your front door as you’re laughing. “Man, that girl was annoying, still is honestly.” You push through the front door, noticing the hot mess you left behind. 

“Jesus, it’s like a crime scene in here.” Taissa motions to the trail of blood that leads to the broken glass and the small pool of blood your leg left behind. “Fleetwood still going strong.” You hop over to your record player, lifting up the tonearm, stopping the repeated music. Taissa makes a face, knowing that she was right about your mental crisis. 

Well by the looks of your house she was extremely correct. She observes your house as you hop into your bedroom, leaning on your walls and random furniture you have as you pack a bag. 

Taissa looks at the wall above your tv that holds numerous pictures. Pictures of Van Palmer, herself, Natalie and Shauna. Pictures of your siblings and family when you were younger. Nothing has changed in the 8 years that the two of you stopped talking. Except for the layout of your living room or kitchen. Everything is the same though. 

You never got anything new, never threw out clearly broken chairs or the clock on the wall that’s been unticking since 2008. Her gaze softens at these details of your home. You’ve never moved on. 

“Let’s go, Nosey Turner.” You lean against your doorway with a backpack. “I’m not being- Oh hey, there’s your phone.” Taissa carefully goes to the couch, picking it up. “You were being nosey, but it’s okay.” You limp to the front door and she follows behind you. Reaching her arms out just in case you trip. 

Later that night you lay on Taissa and Simone’s couch feeling incredibly out of place. Simone welcomed you with open arms, definitely undeserving of this treatment. Simone remembered you well, she didn’t know what happened between you and her wife. Something you promised Taissa before entering her home that she wouldn’t know. She’d be kept in the dark of her wife’s mistreatment towards you. 

“Do you need anything else?” Simone asks, making sure your leg is elevated and you have water on the coffee table in front of you, the remote to the tv in your lap. “I’m fine, Simone. Thank you, I appreciate you just for opening your home up to me.” You smile softly to which she does the same. Patting your shoulder. 

“Of course, you’re welcome anytime. You were like family years ago and you still are.” She assures you. Taissa comes up behind her wife. “Sammy’s waiting for us.” She whispers and Simone nods her head. “If you need help, call us. We’ll come running.” She says and you give her a thumbs up. Both of them walk upstairs. 

You threw your head back as you stared up at her tall ceiling. Disbelieving that you’re inside Taissa Turner’s out after what happened years ago. Not even that but seeing her not that long ago and telling her you don’t forgive her, she’s still willing to open her home up to you. You hated it. 

“God damn.” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and opening them as if you’d wake up from a dream. 

The next day Simone got you your meds from the pharmacy and you wonder if this is the power of being a politician's wife or what. 

Taissa rushes outside of the house and you lift yourself up. Wondering what’s happening. Simone slowly behind her. “What’re you? Did you see someone out there?!” Simone calls after. “Keep the dog inside.” Taissa tells. 

The two have been outside for a bit and you impatiently get up, limping toward the door. “The fuck happened?” You shout, opening the door and the two women look at you.

“Go lay back down!” Taissa orders and you shake your head. “What- oh what the hell?!” You back up from the front door and see it with the word “SPILL” dripping in red paint. You give her a look, and her own are worry-ful but she seems to know where it could’ve come from. 

Nothing comes from that conversation though as you guys go back into the house. You are lectured about getting up by Simone as Taissa is back in her work office. 

Simone and Taissa take Sammy trick or treating after Taissa was stuck in her office before that.  

Leaving you to be obviously stuck on the couch, watching old Halloween movies, giving you nostalgia of when you were younger. 

When the three came home Sammy was bragging about his candy haul. You poke your head up from the couch. “What’d you get?” You ask and he jumps from the sound of your voice. He knew you were there, his mothers told him but it still scared him nonetheless. To which the three of you adults laughed. 

“Sorry, guess you forgot I’m still here.” You chuckle. He shyly nods his head. “What happened?” He suddenly asks and you’re a little shocked by it. 

Simone goes to stop it but Taissa and you stop her. “Fell onto some glass, nothing special.” You wiggle your toes. He seems disappointed by your lack of story but then you change the subject. “So, what you got in there?” You repeat your first question.  “A lot, I can show you.” He goes around the couch and dumps his candy on the coffee table. You re-adjust yourself so you can look. He puts a sucker already in his mouth. 

“Remember what we said, Samwich.” Taissa reminds him as she goes to the kitchen to sort through her mail. “Five pieces. Can I have six?” He doesn’t look back to them as he’s partly showing off his candy to you while also picking out the pieces he wants. 

“Counting what’s in your mouth?” Simone quizzes and he pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I don’t know how that got there!” He feigns surprise and you smile at him. “And remember, no candy for the dog.” Simone points. Leaving the two of you alone to talk about the candy he got. 

You also eavesdrop to the ladies' conversation in the kitchen. “Speaking of truth, maybe it’s getting time for you to spill about your opponent’s junkie daughter.” You hear Simone say to her wife, you knit your eyebrows together. “Whatever happened to not going low?” Taissa questions. 

“Turns out, when the nut-jobs come to my house, I’m less magnanimous.” She replies. ”The contractor’s sending someone to paint over it tomorrow.” Taissa tells her, but it still doesn’t help Simone’s nerves and even you can feel that. Taissa comes over to her son. “Arms up.” She directs and he reluctantly pauses on his candy sorting to let his mom take off his sandwich costume. 

You turn your movie back on, hanging out with Sammy still who has just finished sorting his candy into different piles, he offers you the ones he doesn’t want and you take it very appreciative. 

Simone and Taissa step in your view of the TV though, Taissa setting down a brush and paint can on the coffee table and Sammy looks up. “What’s that?” He asks. “Maybe you should tell us, Sammy. We found it in your room.” Tai answers and he just shakes his head no. 

“What do you mean, no? You painted a word on the front door. You want to tell us why?” Taissa folds her arms, frustrated with her son as you awkwardly sit there with a sour candy in your mouth. Sammy shakes his head yet again. “Sweetheart, we promise not to be angry, but you need to tell us the truth.” Simone speaks up this time. 

Sammy looks nervous, he avoids eye contact with them.

“I didn’t paint the word.” Sammy tells them. “Sammy, please-” 

“The bad one did it. The lady in the tree.” Sammy tells them with some sort of fear. You furrow your eyebrows. “And did the lady in the tree also leave this paint under your bed? Sammy, you know there isn’t any lady. Please don’t lie to us.” Taissa sternly talks to her son who suddenly explodes, sweeping his candy off of the table. 

“I’m not lying! You’re lying!” He shouts as he runs to his room. 

You tense up, eyes wide as you glance up to his parents who share their own worried look. 

1996

You sit on the porch of the cabin with Van beside you, you’re leaning on her tiredly. All of a sudden Mari is shrieking, rushing out of the building. “Get it off me! Somebody get it off!” She shouts, reaching behind her. Shauna rushes to her as well as Akilah. “Get what off? I don’t see anything.” Akilah says. 

“I don’t know! I was standing under the trapdoor and something crawled down my shirt! Please…” She esaperates, and Shauna inspects her. “There’s nothing on you.” She tells her. 

“Must’ve been the ghost.” Taissa walks up and you smirk. “Don’t say that.” Mari huffs. “You guys… you guys! I just had a brainstorm!” Jackie announces, earning everyone’s attention. “We should do a seance.” 

“That’s a terrible idea. We’re also not in middle school.” Taissa rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but remember how fun this shit used to be? Maybe if we could laugh about this, it would help.” Jackie defends her idea and you knit your eyebrows together as you observe everyone else’s reaction. 

“The occult is no laughing matter.” Laura Lee gravely speaks. “It’s not the occult. It’s a game. Shauna, tell them. It’ll be fun.” Jackie turns to her best friend who’s not on the spot. “I mean… it’s not like we have anything better to do. Besides, maybe the dead guy can give us some life advice.” Shauna shrugs her shoulders, attempting to support Jackie. “It’s settled, then. Tonight, the attic. We make contact.” 

You stand up and look to Van who doesn’t look too displeased with the idea. You don’t really care either way. You don’t have your walkman anymore so like Shauna said no one has anything better to do. Leaning back on the redhead, you place your head on her shoulder. Letting out a yawn. 

“You’re tired?” She quietly asks and you nod. “My period and all the moving around I did I guess wore me out.” You close your eyes, not seeing Taissa who’s making a face at the girl you’re leaning on. Van subtly flicks her off. 

2021

Taissa sits at the kitchen table and you awkwardly watch your movie, trying to pretend like you’re not there as Simone comes back downstairs. “He’s asleep, finally.” She informs her wife. 

Joining her at the table. “I’m worried about him.” Taissa exclaims. “Glad you’re catching up.” Simone scoffs out but it doesn’t seem to be cruelly intent. “I know I’ve been distracted.” Taissa frowns. You glance back at them from the couch. Being incredibly nosey but they don’t seem to care that you’re listening. 

“You’ve been worse than distracted. You’re losing weight, you’re exhausted. You want to know what’s wrong with Sammy? I think a big part of it is that he’s missing the mom he knew. You’ll never get the time back, you know. None of us will.” Simone gives Taissa a speech that seems to have been needed as Tai sits straighter at her words. “All this, just to lose a bid for state senate,” Taissa weakly jokes. 

Simone sits there, not giving a pep talk and you wince at the scene. “You think I should drop out.” 

“I would never ask you to do that. I just don’t want you to have regrets. You have a long career ahead of you. Maybe this just… isn’t the year.” Simone carefully admits how she feels. Taissa takes it in with a grain of salt. 

You anxiously sit there, wondering what her answer will be as if you’ll be affected much. 

You watch as Taissa takes Simone’s hand. “I’ll make an announcement.” Taissa says. 

Your eyes widen but even you can see that glimpse in her eyes where she’s already regretting it. You squint and you worry. This isn’t going to go well. 

1996

You end up falling asleep on the girl’s shoulder without even meaning to. Your head about to fall forward but somehow Van catches it, putting her arm around your torso to keep you still. Jackie and Shauna are already off to set up the seance. 

And when Natalie and Travis get back, Natalie immediately notices your figures with a soft smirk upon her lips. The girls crowd the two, telling them about Jackie’s idea. The two find it idiotic but go along with it nonetheless. Van wakes you up, figuring you’d want to talk to your best friend. 

With a jump your eyes shoot up. “Sorry!” You gasp. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Tiredly rubbing your eyes as you stretch your arms and automatically Van is missing your warmth.

“It’s fine, Nat’s back.” She points and you thank her before getting up. Hearing all the cracks in your legs from being in the same position for a while. 

“Debrief time?” You grab your best friend’s wrist who only nods, holding a smug look on her face as you drag her off somewhere. “Debrief. A-way!” She laughs and you hit her. 

“I came out to Van!” You spit out and Natalie’s eyes widen. “No fucking way!” She nudges you to which you nod your head. “Yeah way, I don’t even know why!” You groan as you throw your head back. “You’re into her! Just admit it already!” Natalie dramatically motions. 

“Ugh, I can’t hide it, I am. I most definitely am. I’m trying to fight it. I’m trying to put out every excuse there is but I can’t this time!” You cover your face as you feel it warm up. She grins at you, wanting to squeal for you but not wanting to be loud where the girls would hear her. “Finally!” She excitedly says. 

You’ve had attractions but never crushes. Never ones that you’d admit on. “But I can see the eyes you’re giving Travis… so…” You change the subject and her face drops. “What?” 

“Oh don’t even! I might hate the guy- kind of despise him. But I know you.” You cross your arms as she rolls her eyes. “The two of you were laughing before you left. Laughing. I couldn’t even smile in that guy's direction, that's how I know you got it bad.” You tell her earnestly, half-joking. You really didn’t like Travis but that’s for your personal reasons. If Natalie liked him, you would have to get over it. 

“He’s not as bad as he comes off.” She murmurs and you scrunch your nose with a certain smile. “No denying it…” 

“Shut up.” She avoids your eye contact and you clap your hands. “You’re so readable.” You make kissy faces. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” She shoves you away from her. 

“O, keeper of this wild and hidden place! We anoint ourselves with blood and earth…” Jackie passes the bowl to Travis who makes a disgusted expression. You sit between Natalie and Van. “It’s just dirt and deer blood, classic witch recipe, relax.” She giggles as Travis dabs at it, passing the bowl to Natalie. 

You notice their reactions to their fingers touching and you try not to laugh. “O spirit! We offer our sister as your instrument. Come to us, and speak your peace.” Jackie continues. The bowl given to you. 

You grimace down at the blood, making the cross on your forehead, handing the bowl to Van who matches your facial expression. It’s silent as the bowl is fully paced. 

“It is I, Jacques.” Shauna suddenly speaks as if channeling the ghost. 

This earns laughter from everyone. “Ahem.” She speaks in a lower octave. “Ahem. Jacques. Ask your questions. The pendulum will answer.” 

Van is the first to lean forward with a serious look. “Dear dead hunter guy… Did OJ do it?” She asks, the girls giggle and you nudge her knee with the back of your hand. 

“C’mon you guys, real questions.” Jackie pleads. “The veil is thin between our two planes. Ask what is in your heart.” Shauna re-commences. “I’ll go. Is principal Berzonsky screwing Ms. DeWine?” Mari sits straight.

Arm out, Shauna starts the knife-pendulum swinging and you all watch as the arcs widen, eventually becoming a circle. “It is certain.” 

And now this grows a pique of interest. “If we hadn’t crashed, would we have won nationals?” Akilah speaks up. 

The pendulum swings once again, moving back and forth instead of a circle this time. Boos fill the attic, Lottie even laughs at this. Your eyes flicker to Jackie who beams. Proud of her contribution to the group. 

Making them have a good time. 

The conversation switches as someone brings up a classmate's boobs. “They’re obviously fake, you really need a ghost to tell you that?” Natalie laughs out as Javi wedges himself between her and Travis, waving to you, you do the same with a gentle smile. 

“You think? But who would’ve paid for them? Her parents?” Mari tilts her head curiously. You overhear Travis whispering to his brother. “I told you to stay downstairs.” “Whatever, it’s boring.” Javi responds. 

“I think they got divorced recently. Maybe it was guilt money.” You speak up, not wanting to intervene between brothers. 

“Well that’s just creepy.” Mari says. “You mom and I are splitting up, but don’t worry- your tits are gonna look amazing!” Van grabs onto her own chest and everyone bursts into laughter but the only person she really cared about making laugh was you. Your hand is on your stomach from how hilarious and idiotic this conversation is. 

“Okay guys, focus, next question.” Jackie spots Misty from across the room who’s ecstatic and eager to be chosen to ask a question. “Misty?” 

The curly blonde straightens her posture, avoiding eye contact as she begins. “Dear spirit, I need to know the truth. Does the person I like like me back?” She breathes out and Shauna loops the pendulum, a circle; a yes. 

Misty blushes, grinning ear to ear as the girls all give her an “ooo-ooo.” 

“Who’s next?” 

Javi waves his hand and Jackie gives him the go ahead. “Are we gonna die out here?” 

And just like that, all the fun exits out the room. It was real. Serious, too serious for anyone to want to know. You look at Shauna who hesitates. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Travis hits him and he turns to you, almost for comfort. You give him an empathetic look but you truly didn’t know what to do for him. 

The pendulum moves into an infinity shape. Unsettling to everyone. 

“Eight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not an eight, it’s infinity?” 

“Oh, okay Aristotle.” 

As tension grows with the arguing you sit there. Body tensed but still aware. Observing Lottie who is slowly turning her head, staring at the window behind her. Then all of a sudden screaming, full of terror. You, Van and Akilah rush to her side, springing into action. Lottie grabs onto your arms as you try to soothe her. 

The window blows open and the candles are extinguished by the wind. Stopping the girl’s scream but confusion engulfs the room. The three girls cling to you as you stand there. “Hey hey, it’s okay.” You say, letting go of the girls to close and latch the window. 

“Who has the matches?” Jackie asks as you’re trying to calm the girls around you. A flame flicks up by Shauna’s hand as she re-lights the candles on the ground. “There’s something wrong with her.” Van points, her hold on you once again. You bend down, Lottie back to gripping onto your arms. The three of you are attempting to keep her still. 

All eyes on Lottie who slowly opens her mouth. “Oh, I don’t think-” Akilah’s dread washing over everyone else. “It- it… it wants-” Lottie begins to jerk around, letting out a guttural and unintelligible noise that freaks everyone out. 

She pauses, her chest heaving up and down. Her eyes roll back as she twitches with a violent tremor ripping through her. You feel her nails digging into your skin, rubbing against your almost fully healed burn. 

“Should we, uh… Misty?!” Van shouts, the blonde gets up seemingly with delight. She approaches but Lottie goes back to speaking random words. 

“It! Wants!”

“Lottie, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with us…” Mari comments. “Is she, like…” Akilah can’t get the word out, backing away with Misty. Van standing over you with her hold still on you since you can’t move anyways with Lottie’s grip. 

“Lot, what’s going on? What is it?” You mutter out, trying to look her in the eyes. Her thrashing doesn’t help though. “Hungry. Hungry…” She then looks up to you.

“It’s in her already.” Her eyes flicker to Shauna. You follow it and Shauna’s face drops, not understanding what Lottie is talking about at first. 

But you see her small recognition. 

“Alright, Lottie, let’s cut it out now.” You warn her, trying to take your arms back now but she doesn’t let go. Only gripping tighter. Giving you a manic smile.

“You understand. You’ll feel it. I know you will.” She whispers to you, and only you. Your eyebrows knit together. “What?” 

She lets you go, standing up. “Ce n’est pas un jeu.” 

Van helps you stand away from the girl. “Au début, il a pris soin de moi. Je l’ai nourri.” 

“Is that French?” Van looks around. “Il m’a apporté ses cadeaux. Les cadeaux des bois…” 

“Since when does Lottie know French?” Natalie urgently asks. “Mais il avait toujours faim…” Lottie continues in a low voice. “Jackie, aren’t you guys in the same class?” 

“Mes offres étaient trop maigres.” 

“Yeah, but she sucks at French!” Jackie exclaims. “Il voulait du sang.” 

“Well what’s she saying?” Mari inquired, panicked. “I dunno, I suck at French too!” Jackie shrugs her shoulders with wide eyes. “Il veut toujours du sang.” 

“Well damn it, Jackie, try not to!” Van spits out, the two of you holding onto one another. You rub the marks that were made by Lottie, wincing at the pain in your burn mark. “Il veut du sang!” 

“He, no, it- wanted… something.” Jackie attempts to translate. “Il voulait plus de sang.” 

“It… blood? I think she’s saying blood.” Jackie thinks. “Not the word I want to be hearing right now.” Mari frowns deeply. Lottie gets up walking quickly to the window and starts jabbing at the glass. Pointing at something. “Le sang coule ici.” 

“Shit… more blood stuff?” 

“Ici. Ici.” Lottie repeats, pointing with more urgency. “Here? I don’t…” 

“There’s blood where, Lottie?” Van speaks up. “Would you stop encouraging her!?” Taissa shouts only to be ignored. “Here, or out there?” 

“Il faut.” 

“It’s fake?” Jackie asks. “You must spill blood or… or else.” It seemed to be an effort to speak English as if Lottie doesn’t do it on a regular basis. Lottie falls silent, breathing heavily but still pointing at the window.

“Or else what, Lottie?!” Jackie yells but suddenly Lottie smashes her head against the glass. Everyone screams but you rush to her aid. Ripping off your shirt to place over her wound on her head. 

“Help me!” You yell at the girls, Lottie unleashes a long wail. Natalie and Van restraining her as you keep the shirt up to her forehead. Laura Lee appeared from downstairs, beelining for Lottie with her bible in hand. 

“The power of Christ compels you!” She orders. Lottie’s eyes still rolled back, wailing still. “Be gone, Satan! I said the power of Christ compels you!” She shouts, more determined than before. Stern and certain in what she believes in. Lottie continues to wail. Trying to move her head away from your hold. 

“Lottie! Stop!” Laura Lee then chucks her bible right at Lottie’s stomach. Lottie’s eyes focus, confusedly looking up to the blonde. “Ow! What the hell, Laura Lee?” She glares upward. Trying to push you away but you don’t let go of her head. 

Forcing her to look at you instead.The girls stare at each other, hearts pounding but you’re immediately aiding the wound. “Seriously? What the motherfuck just happened?” Mari motions to the room. 

“I need my kit.” You order, Van nods her head, rushing downstairs. “Lottie, I don’t even want to know why you did what you did. But Jesus christ.” You clean up her face a bit harshly. The girl is dazed, not understanding what happened either. What she does notice though are the claw-like marks on your arms. 

Prominently over your burn mark. “Did I do that?” She softly asks, touching them. You glance down and huff. “Yeah, but it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

Everyone has gone to their spots for bed, almost instantaneously Lottie is the first one knocked out. Snoring even. 

You set your stuff beside Van, taking in a deep breath. The stinging in your arms not going away, neither is the anxiety you feel from Lottie’s words earlier. You knew Shauna was feeling the same way. 

“At least someone’s getting some rest.” Van comments. “Raise your hand if you’ll never sleep again.” Mari speaks, being the first to do so and it leads to others. Except Taissa who won’t admit she’s afraid.

“Do we think it’s still up there?” Akilah shakily asks, a few eyes seem to look to you for comfort. 

“Guys, I think we need to take a deep breath. Lottie hasn’t been acting well for the past few weeks we’ve been here.” You point out to them, still standing with your hands on your hips. “I promise nothing is up there to get us.” You place a hand on your heart the girls would like to believe it but there’s still discomfort covering the room. 

“I’ll prove it.” Taissa scoffs, gathering her bedding. Heading for the trapdoor. “You’re going to sleep up there??” Akilah furrows. 

“That’s right. Anyone with me?” She shoots a look your way and even to Van. Van shakes her head, still incredibly frightened. But you sigh, gathering up your things as well. Van gasps. Reaching out to stop you. “Are you serious?”

“Van, it’s okay. You don’t have to come but I’m not leaving her alone up there.” You tell her. “Great.” Taissa smiles, heading up the stairs. 

You follow behind quickly in case you change your mind. 

“You didn’t have to come with me, I know you’d rather be with Van.” Taissa quietly says and you snort. “That could be true but I have more nights to do that it seems.” You set your stuff down next to hers and she smirks at you for not denying your feelings. 

Moments later, Shauna is at the top of the stairs. “What’re you doing?” Taissa asks. “Keeping you two company. If that’s okay.” Shauna glances between the both of you. You both nod and she tosses her bedding on the floor. You are in the middle between both of them. 

As you all settle into your spots. Lying there almost awkwardly until Taissa speaks up. “How far along are you?” 

“You are pregnant right?” She asks the question that even you didn’t think would be answered. 

Your heart thumps at the confrontation. Your head turns to look at Shauna who’s frozen in place. “You guys won’t tell anyone, will you?” 

“No. I won’t. But if we’re stuck here long enough, I have a feeling it’ll come out one way or another.” Taissa whispers and you nod your head with a sad expression.

“We’ll stick by you though, if you need anything.” You assure the girl before she rolls onto her back. Staring up at the ceiling. 

2021

You lean on Taissa as you try to keep weight off your leg, the both of you standing in front of a motel door. Taissa knocks one time and the door swings open.

“Since my press conference my phone hasn’t stopped ringing with folks trying to interview me. So tell me: why am I here?” Taissa questions as she helps you inside. Natalie looks confused at the two of you together but decides to ignore it for now. 

Holding up a photo collage of the Symbol. Both of your faces drop. Afraid. 

“What is that?” Taissa asks. “It’s the floor of the barn where they found Travis. The police ruled it a suicide. But there were candles on the floor underneath him. Tai, [Name]. Arranged like this. Someone burned them and then took them away.” She explains to the both of you. And you squint your eyes at it. 

“But who would do that? Why?” Taissa blurts and just then Natalie’s phone buzzes along with Taissas. But yours doesn’t. “Gather 50k cash and await further instructions. Do not discuss this with your teammates- I WILL KNOW.” Natalie reads the message and you give a disgusted look. “What the fuck is happening??” 

“I’m calling Shauna.” Taissa steps further into the motel room as Natalie turns to you. “The fuck happened to you?” 

“I was drunk, slipped on my rug and caught it on glass… that I also broke.” You quickly sum it up. She presses her lips together at you. “Taissa?” She then points back to the woman and you put a finger up. “I’ll explain later.” 

Taissa finally gets Shauna on the phone. “I’m with Natalie and [Name]. You need to get over here. Travis is dead, and-” A beat takes. 

“She says she already knows.” Taissa looks at you two. “What? How?” Natalie quizzes. 

“Misty called her.” Taissa rolls her eyes. “That conniving, poodle-haired little freak. Give me that.” Natalie angrily takes the phone from Taissa’s hand. 

“Shauna, we need you here. Now.”

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[satsugacafe]

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Kuchiki Byakuya, Hirako Shinji, Kyoraku Shunsui, Ukitake Jushiro

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello, sis! I really, reallly, love your headcanons! Would you like to do a hc about reader who's very insecure about themselves or dealing with self-esteem issues? The characters could be Jushiro, Shunsui, Shinji, and Byakuya. You can add any character you want. I hope you accept it, if it's fine with you. Thank you!🥰

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Thank you for this request, anon. This one felt close to home. Hope it doesn’t sound too personal 😅. But enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When they guide you through your stage of insecurity and low self-esteem (like the sweet lovers they are)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Kuchiki Byakuya

✧ Never one for coddling, but the moment he started noticing your discomfort with yourself, he began paying more attention than you'd realise. He’d catch you looking at your reflection too long with a strange look on your face, like you were trying to find something worth liking. He never brought it up directly, but he observed it in silence.

✧ You’d try to brush off compliments with a shrug or awkward laugh, and he’d tilt his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together. The next time, he’d say something simple and specific, like, “Your posture improved. It suits you.” Not said for flattery, but because it was fact, and he knew you’d believe facts over sweet nothings.

✧ He started saying things in passing like, “That colour enhances your complexion,” or “You speak clearly. People listen.” Always subtle and neutral. But there was no mistaking the intention behind it. He was planting seeds of positivity.

✧ Once, you called yourself useless during training after missing a block. Byakuya didn’t hesitate. “You are not. Do not waste my time by speaking falsehoods.” The way he said it made you stop mid-apology. “Correct yourself and try again,” he added, but it wasn’t harsh. It was almost...grounding.

✧ He’d sit beside you in silence sometimes, just so you wouldn’t be alone with your thoughts too long. You weren’t even sure he noticed the patterns, but then he handed you a book he’d chosen without asking. It had notes in the margins. Thoughtful ones. That kind of intimacy from Byakuya said everything.

✧ When you tried to downplay your efforts during a mission, he would say without looking up, “Mediocrity does not draw my attention. You should be aware of that by now.” And when you glanced up, unsure if it was a rebuke or a compliment, he flicked his eyes to you and added, “I meant it as praise. Accept it.”

✧ He didn’t indulge self-deprecation. “If you insist on belittling yourself, I cannot assist you. I work with those who see their worth, or at least wish to.” And somehow, that stung more than any pity would have.

✧ But he began requesting your opinion more often. Not just to be kind, but because he valued it, and he wanted you to know he did. “You see things others overlook,” he said once, when you pointed out a pattern in enemy movement others missed. “That is not a common trait.”

✧ During a rare evening walk, you admitted in a quiet voice that you didn’t see anything impressive in yourself. He stopped, looked down at you, and simply asked, “Do you believe I waste time?” You frowned, shook your head. “Then accept that I choose to be here. With you. For a reason.”

✧ The way he spoke your name shifted. Firmer, less formal, almost like grounding you. If you drifted into self-hate, he’d say your name like an anchor, a reminder. Not of what you were to him, but who you were.

✧ He started correcting others when they praised you too little. “They completed the task efficiently,” someone would say. Byakuya would reply coolly, “They completed the task brilliantly. Do not diminish that.”

✧ Once, you were picking at your sleeves, eyes low after a particularly bad day, and he said quietly, “You are permitted to falter. But you are not permitted to lie about your value.”

✧ He didn’t flood you with affection or comfort. He redefined your reality through steady correction, unwavering acknowledgement, and making it known that weakness was not something to be ashamed of—but false humility was.

✧ He taught you kido techniques slowly, patiently, never rushing, and never once expressing frustration. “You will learn. You do not lack capacity—only belief.”

✧ When you thanked him too meekly, he looked at you and said flatly, “Do not thank me as though it is undeserved. You earn what I give.”

✧ Sometimes, he sat beside you and just existed there. No speeches. No guidance. Just quiet presence that said, I see you. You’re enough, even when you don’t see it yourself.

Hirako Shinji

✧ Shinji had clocked how you laughed off compliments and made excuses when praised. The kind of thing you thought you were hiding well, but his perceptiveness cut right through the act.

✧ “You’ve got this weird habit of shrinking into yourself when someone says something nice,” he pointed out with that easy grin. “You allergic to compliments or just not used to ‘em?”

✧ He teased you at first, lightly, trying to draw you out of your shell. “C’mon, don’t give me that face. You look like someone just insulted your cooking, and all I said was your outfit suits you.”

✧ He started making you stand in front of the mirror sometimes while standing behind you, arms crossed, saying things like, “Look at that. That’s someone who’s survived Hollow attacks, dealt with Mayuri without losing their sanity, and still has all their limbs. That ain’t nothing.”

✧ Shinji made sure you knew that your mind was sharp. When you doubted your ideas, he’d interrupt mid-thought with, “No, no, don’t walk it back. That was a good plan. Stick with it.” He hated seeing you second-guess yourself and he always called it out.

✧ Once, you called yourself a burden and he turned to you with this incredulous look. “You serious right now? You think I’d drag dead weight around Soul Society for fun? Nah. You’re carrying more than you realise.”

✧ He wasn’t the soft, sappy type—but he did know when to lower his voice and level with you. “I’ve seen a lotta people. Been through too many wars. If you were weak, I’d know it. You’re not.”

✧ When you were spiralling, his approach was to snap you out of it with something sharp. “Stop it. That voice in your head’s lying to you. And you’re letting it. Don’t give it that kind of power.”

✧ Made a habit of pointing out the little things you did well. “You always catch details. I missed that Hollow’s movement pattern, and you didn’t. I owe you a drink.”

✧ When you couldn’t sleep and admitted it was because your brain wouldn’t shut up, he started showing up at night, leaning against your doorframe, tossing you a cushion. “Come sit with me. We’ll talk nonsense until your brain forgets it’s trying to kill you.”

✧ He’d interrupt your self-deprecating thoughts before they even finished. “Don’t even start. I see that look on your face. You’re better than you think, alright? I’m not gonna let you pretend otherwise.”

✧ One day, he found you tearing yourself down over a small mistake. He sat down beside you and said, quieter this time, “You ever notice how hard you are on yourself? Like you think being perfect is the only way you’re worth something?”

✧ “Lemme tell you something. I’ve made way worse mistakes. You don’t see me quitting, do ya? You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be real. And you already are.”

✧ He kept you grounded with humour too. If you got too in your head, he’d say something ridiculous like, “Alright, if you don’t start talking about yourself like you’re at least mildly impressive, I’m gonna list every dumb thing I’ve done until you’re too embarrassed to wallow.”

✧ He gave you nicknames based on your strengths. Called you “Hawk-eyes” after you spotted a Hollow nest no one else did. “See?” he said, grin widening. “Told you your instincts are better than mine.”

✧ Shinji didn’t let people talk down to you either. If someone undercut you in conversation, he’d casually step in with a, “Actually, that was their idea. Don’t take credit where it ain’t due.”

✧ He didn’t believe in fixing you. He believed in reminding you that you weren’t broken. “You’ve got cracks. Big deal. That’s where the good stuff leaks out.”

✧ The way he looked at you changed when you started believing him, even just a little. Like he saw the fog clearing. “There you go,” he said once, after you stood up for yourself. “That’s the version of you I see every day.”

✧ And when you relapsed into old thoughts, because it happened sometimes, he didn’t get annoyed. He just said, “You don’t have to climb the mountain every day. Some days, just standing on the path’s enough.”

✧ Shinji never expected you to love yourself overnight. He was just the constant voice that didn’t waver, didn’t falter, didn’t let you sink too deep. Because if you couldn’t see your worth yet, he’d lend you his eyes till you could.

Kyoraku Shunsui

✧ He had a lazy air about him, sure, but nothing slipped past him when it came to the people he cared about. The way your eyes dropped when someone complimented you, how you’d wave off any praise like it didn’t belong to you—it didn’t sit right with him.

✧ He’d lean over when he caught you doing it again and mutter with a smile, “You really gotta stop treating kindness like it’s a mistake. We say nice things ‘cause they’re true, sweetheart.”

✧ Whenever you tried to minimise your accomplishments, Shunsui didn’t argue. He’d just look at you over the brim of his hat and say, “You know, if you keep brushing off all the good things about you, I’m gonna start thinking you’re talking about someone else.”

✧ He wasn’t confrontational about it, but he was persistent. If you mumbled something self-deprecating, he’d tilt his head and go, “What was that? Didn’t quite catch that nonsense.” And then wink, as if daring you to repeat it. You never did.

✧ Shunsui made sure others didn’t speak over you. If someone tried, he’d casually raise a hand and say, “Hold on, I think what they were saying was far more interesting.” You never knew how to respond when he did that, but he’d just smile and go back to sipping his sake like it was nothing.

✧ You’d find him laying around in your space more often than not. He’d say, “You looked like you could use the company,” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural with him—unpressured, calm, like maybe you didn’t have to pretend to be someone stronger.

✧ “You ever think maybe the way you see yourself ain’t the way the rest of us do?” he asked once, when you were sitting in silence too long, face drawn. “’Cause from where I’m sitting, you’ve got more strength than you give yourself credit for.”

✧ He never made it a lecture. It was always wrapped in comfort, humour, and that soft drawl that made you listen even when you didn’t mean to. “I know how heavy that inner critic can get. I’ve got one too—drinks too much and never shuts up.”

✧ When you apologised too often, he gently waved you off with a lazy smile. “If you apologise one more time for existing, I’m gonna start charging you. You’re allowed to take up space, love.”

✧ Shunsui had this way of reframing your insecurities into something empowering. “So you’re quiet? Means you’re a thinker. You doubt yourself? Means you care enough to get it right.”

✧ He never pressured you to believe him right away. “Takes time to unlearn the bad voices,” he said once, handing you a drink. “Until then, I’ll just keep reminding you that mine’s one of the good ones.”

✧ When you admitted you didn’t see anything worthwhile in yourself, he didn’t respond right away. Just stared at you for a moment, a rare seriousness settling over him. Then he said softly, “You ever wonder why I spend so much time here? It’s not ‘cause I’m bored, you know.”

✧ He kept things light when you needed distraction. If you were spiralling, he’d casually throw his arm over your shoulder and say, “C’mon. Let’s go somewhere you can remember you’re human and not a list of faults.”

✧ But when things got heavy, he didn’t retreat. He sat with you through the storm. No false reassurances, just quiet presence, maybe a hand in yours. Maybe just silence. But always there.

✧ And when you started believing in yourself a little more, you’d find him smiling more too. “See?” he said once, when you held your head a little higher. “Told you. You’re more than enough.”

✧ He never made you feel like a project. He made you feel like a person worth sticking around for, even when you weren’t sure why.

Ukitake Jushiro

✧ He was kind in the way a quiet river is kind—constant, deep, never pushing too hard but always moving. He noticed your insecurities in the smallest things—the way you avoided photos, how you apologised for asking questions, the way you laughed when you were uncomfortable.

✧ He never interrupted you when you put yourself down. He’d wait till you were done, then say, “I think you’re being unfair to someone I care about.” Just soft enough to make it sting in the right way.

✧ Count on him to never be blunt, but he was honest. “You’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be,” he said once. “And if someone else said the things you say to yourself, I’d ask them to leave.”

✧ He’d take your hand during quiet moments and trace little circles over your knuckles while talking about absolutely anything—tea, missions, weather—until your breathing slowed. His way of anchoring you without making a fuss.

✧ When you doubted your value, he reminded you with facts. “You saved that squad last week. You’re here, still standing, when others might’ve fallen. That means something.”

✧ Jushiro never let you dismiss your contributions. “You made a difference. You always do. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t make it any less true.”

✧ If you tried to apologise for not being good enough, he’d cut in gently, “You don’t have to apologise for being human. You’re allowed to have moments. You’re allowed to need reassurance.”

✧ He kept a calm kind of confidence in you. “I believe in your strength,” he said simply one day, when you were doubting your worth. “Even when you can’t.”

✧ When you felt unworthy of his presence, he took your hand, placed it over his chest, and said, “This heart has stood through a thousand years of war. And it still feels lighter when you’re near.”

✧ Has a talent for making you feel safe even in your most vulnerable moments. He never rushed you out of them, just stayed.

✧ He encouraged you through action more than words. He let you lead small team assignments, made space for your decisions, and when things went well, he’d smile and say, “I knew you’d handle it. I trusted you to.”

✧ The day you broke down, whispering that you didn’t see anything worth holding onto in yourself, he held you like you were made of glass and said into your hair, “Then I’ll hold on for the both of us. Until you can.”

✧ He left you notes sometimes. Folded neatly. Just lines like: You did well today. I hope you see that too. Or Your presence makes the Seireitei a better place.

✧ He never told you to stop feeling what you felt. He just helped you carry it. “Let’s carry it together,” he said once, after a particularly rough week. “You shouldn’t have to bear all that weight alone.”

✧ He never allowed your pain to feel like an inconvenience. He made it feel like something sacred—something he wanted to understand, not fix or brush away.

✧ And when you began healing, he noticed. “There’s light in your eyes again,” he said quietly one evening. “I missed that.”

✧ Being with him didn’t make you suddenly love yourself. And it made it harder to hate yourself.

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