#and if you’re curious and want to throw your ocs my way…

[fistfuloflightning]

Yoo-hoo! I have time on my hands!! And you know what that means 😉

Tolkien, MXTX, Hakuouki, Planes etc. I’m not picky :)

(and even if I don’t get them done today, I still take prompts at any time)

[seijorhi]

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

 Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more. 

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend. 

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you. 

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah. 

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass. 

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.” 

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine. 

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess. 

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit. 

Sweetheart’s a rare one. 

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out. 

Fuck. 

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door. 

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead. 

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone. 

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely. 

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault. 

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you. 

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him. 

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice. 

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours. 

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything. 

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this. 

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe. 

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain. 

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming. 

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out. 

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs. 

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely. 

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense. 

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place. 

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder. 

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there. 

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

[blackknight-kai]

Hiiiii I love your Black Myth HCs! Finally worked up the courage to put an ask in ahahaha.

If you’re inclined, would love your take on a reader who gets very turned on watching DO/SW fight— maybe also wants to learn how to fight too? Cue awkward/flirty training sessions where DO/SW starts to realize what’s happening etc etc.

Even if this isn’t up your alley just wanna thank you for providing us with so much content!!

First ask in a while I know….thank you for your ask and I’m sorry it’s taken so long! (Side note for future asks - I’m open for MKR Wukong :) and I will be trying to get these asks done between work and my hand issues so look forward for more! Use my tag #bk kai writes to find my other Headcanons!!

Yes! I love this idea and honestly think about it a lot myself because my OC (generally) is one that can/wants to learn to fight depending on the AU.

Also, I legit fell in love with Wukong fighting Erlang in that opening scene AND I have a favorite move DO does through the game it’s…yeah it’s a thing okay? 🤣

Anyway!

As far as reader goes! (This is just one path my brain takes and I hope it came out okay!)

Getting hot under the collar watching him fight? Yeah. That’s happening. There’s something graceful yet powerful about him fighting. Every step is calculated from years of practice and every move made is times just perfectly. Sometimes there’s a misstep but generally? He’s so fluid with his movements it’s hard NOT to stare. He’s earned his confidence that’s for sure.

Watching the way he twirls his staff or even just simply walking backwards and while he may look almost relaxed you know he’s ready for anything his enemy throws at him. That self assurance is intoxicating.

And depending on what armor he’s wearing? Even better. Because honestly, watching his muscles at work is…well your eyes have a hard time looking anywhere else. He’s gorgeous. His grunts and noises of effort also start to get to you, making your cheeks warm as your brain images those sounds during…other instances.

Fairly quickly you realize you have a huge problem. You’re getting a little TOO warm under your clothes as he fights. Feeling squirmy and hot as he does that one move that always sends a tingle down your spine. You do your best of course to play it off later and calm yourself down but…at night when you’re resting? The striking image of him in battle plays in your mind and you can only hope he doesn’t notice. (Or notice when you linger while bathing to…..have some you time.)

Unfortunately…He can always feel you watching. In the beginning he wondered what you were thinking about, did he scare you? Did you think he over did it? Were you curious about how to fight? But after catching your awed stare out of the corner of his eye he realized you LIKE the show he puts on to some degree. And so that’s what he does. He likes having an audience and especially your attention. So while he may not know the full extent of your thoughts and feelings as you watch him fight (at first), he enjoys the feeling of your eyes on him. Gets him fired up even more than usual. Also….dont be surprised if he purposely gets into fights just to have your attention on him again.

The day you ask him to SHOW you how to fight? That’s one of the best days of his life. Not only does he get to actually teach you - which he honestly enjoys doing in general - he gets to be close to you. And you’ll know how to protect yourself if need be. Even better if you can fight along side him.

Destined One:

- [ ] Completely oblivious to what’s going on in your head. He just thinks you like watching him fight and are awed by him.

- [ ] Honestly at first thought you were kinda weird for staring so much until he realized it was in admiration - kinda like how monkey cubs used to watch him train.

- [ ] He won’t admit it nor show it but makes him work harder knowing you’re watching him. He LIKES your stare and likes showing off although again, he’d act dismissive about it (he’s glancing the whole time though to make sure you’re still looking).

- [ ] While he is always focused when fighting….dont be surprised if he accidentally gets a little too cocky with you watching or distracted. Slip ups might happen and he will always make sure youre safe and protected but dont be mad at him…he cant help it LOL.

- [ ] Sometimes though (always) your stare makes him HOT. His fur rippling and his muscles unconsciously flexing as he fights or goes through his trainings/warm ups.

- [ ] This confused him because that is NOT how he normally feels when someone watches him fight.

- [ ] It’s faint, but he also catches something on the wind that he’s not sure what it is but knows it comes from you - and it always makes his mouth water and his body temperature rise.

- [ ] Honored and tickled when you ask him to teach you / train you.

- [ ] Takes teaching you very seriously (for a bit). Very hands on and actually patient - most of the time.

- [ ] This beginning phase is a bit awkward mainly because well…he likes you but doesn’t really realize it fully - youre special to him that much he understands.

- [ ] Since hes not super verbal he’s all about moving you - with your permission at first but then as he continues he just does it automatically because it’s necessary for you to have good form and posture etc.

- [ ] This also gives him first hand experience with touching you but also….now he can be closer to that previously faint scent that comes off you when he’s fighting - he’s still not sure what it is but he notices youre clearly aware of him and after certain moves or him moving you around a lot that scent permeates off you. He slowly becomes addicted to it - and it makes him restless as hell so it takes him some time to adjust and get a handle on himself. Don’t be surprised if he cuts training short sometimes or keeps his distance a little bit - hes kinda….fidgety for reasons.

- [ ] He is a hard teacher though, while he wont be too hard he isnt going to be easy - he wants you to be able to defend yourself properly. So unless you are genuinely overly tired he’s not going to let you falter and stop your training/teaching. Granted…if you give him certain looks or tell him youre truly too tired etc he would let you off the hook - big ol softy. (This only doesn’t happen if there’s serious danger and you MUST learn something - then he’s going to make sure you keep at it)

- [ ] Over time his seriousness doesnt exactly stop BUT his cheeky behavior absolutely comes out - he’s similar to Wukong in this aspect. Expect tricks and mischievous behavior. Pranks. His smug snickers. All that.

- [ ] By now his teaching you is still genuine but there are times when it’s super playful and FUN. This is where you catch him smiling like a jerk or when he’s play fighting with you - sometimes with weapons and sometimes hand to hand.

- [ ] He’s adores when youre playful with him and while is face might not ALWAYS show it especially if he’s trying to pretend to be ‘Come on training is serious’ his tail sure gives him away with how its swaying and swishing happily.

Wukong - Taking his in a slightly different than normal way :)

- [ ] Smug as fuck. Wukong know’s he’s a sight to behold. He’s had many admirers of his form over the years and has taught many monkey warriors in the time he’s been alive. Not only is he used to the stares he’s used to the awe as well. That said, YOUR stare makes him feel the best.

- [ ] The first time he catches you watching him he’s not surprised. But he IS curious. Very curious. To the point of near distraction not that he would show it. He’s going to keep an eye on you from here on out, clocking every one of your facial expressions if he can.

- [ ] Wukong wants to know what youre thinking and sure he’d have ZERO qualms about asking you - he kinda wants to observe. Sometimes we forget how observant Wukong actually is with how loud and in your face he is. Wukong is a plotter and takes note of so many things and yes hes impulsive but it’s shown time and again how calculating and smart he actually is. So hed be watching you back but you wouldn’t know it.

- [ ] Honestly it’s not going to take him long to figure out that SOMETHING about what hes doing makes you squirm. Why? Undetermined. So he decides to keep up his little ‘trap’ and purposely shows off every time he fights or trains. Memorizing every little expression on your face and your body language.

- [ ] While he is…always a controlled chaos sometimes (just like DO) he might get a little TOO distracted and cocky and something not exactly wanted results from it, like you being kidnapped or almost put in danger - or he takes a hard hit.

- [ ] Your scent? Because let’s be honest youre getting hot under the collar watching him…hes going to register it fairly early on with how sensitive his nose is. But I feel like he’s going to lie to himself about it even if he kinda knows what it means. He’s old as hell and has been around many beings, his nose knows that kind of scent. But I think at first he’s going to pretend and lie to himself what it means coming from YOU. Why? Yes hes cocky and you’d think hed get smug (he will eventually) but at first he’s might not exactly understand why YOU hold that scent and why its in regards to when he’s training/fighting.

- [ ] This is one of those times where his general ‘uncaring’ attitude to things like ‘sex’ and ‘romance’ come into play. Not that he doesnt want that with YOU (he definitely dreams about it both sleeping and awake). Just….look hes an idiot. He’s a little blind to his own growing feelings and why would YOU want to roll around with HIM? - Not that he doesnt think hes handsome etc - we all know his ego is the size of the universe. It’s more, hes a MONKEY demon….Usually people only want him to ‘use’ him in some fashion if they hit on him so again, hes gonna be a bit blind - not for long.

- [ ] Regardless, he wont stop showing off. He loves your attention and preens for it like a peacock.

- [ ] Eventually might tease you and say something like “Why are you staring? Want to learn how to fight from Old Sun?” Or something and will be TICKLED TO DEATH when you say yes. He will act overconfident and smug but inside? He’s so excited to share this with you (and that you trust him to be the one to do it).

- [ ] This is going to give him up close and personal access to your normal scent which he loves, but also that special scent. Wukong has a lot of control over himself WHEN HE WANTS. And in these moments he exercises a lot of control. Why? Because you make him twitchy as fuck and his blood run HOT. He is a bit taken aback by his body’s reaction to you and that scent, having never reacted like this to anyone else. The more you spar the more he has to reign himself in - which might turn into grumpy monkey or him ending training for the day, or even mistakes.

- [ ] Might be a little too excited honestly to teach you though - so sometimes he might go overboard or be hasty with his teaching.

- [ ] He is one of those half hands on half ‘let them figure it out’ teachers. While he’s going to of course guide you and make sure you have basics and good form….hes also going to want you to run a bit off instinct. So dont be surprised if hes sitting up in a tree after leading some low level enemy to you and lets you kinda….figure it out or gives you advice.

- [ ] Make no mistake he is ALWAYS right there ready to step in. But hes a bit of a ‘learn on the go’ kind of trainer a lot of the time. Something he’s discovered with training his warriors.

- [ ] But if this doesnt work for you? Best believe he will adjust for you. Might have to fight him about it at first though and show him you mean business and that this way of teaching isnt going to cut it. At the end of the day he wants you to be SAFE and feel confident in your skills. So whatever he needs to do to make that happen? He will.

- [ ] He is a tough teacher in that he doesnt let you give up, give half ass effort, or slack off - Wukong has trained many in his time and while he wont be the ‘Monkey King’ to you giving orders he is serious about you learning and being safe.

- [ ] That said….expect shenanigans. This Monkey is a damn trickster and so dont be surprised when that particular trait shows up during your training or sparring sessions.

- [ ] Not every session is one of over seriousness either. Training and sparring is fun with him as a general rule. Mainly because you are not one of his monkey warriors - youre special.

- [ ] So be prepared for antics or some weird game of the day hes come up with - for an old monkey he is extremely playful.

- [ ] No matter if you just wanted to learn basics or wanted to learn further training your sparring sessions often devolve into screwing around courtesy of Wukongs mischievous nature.

Both: moving into NSFW-ish

- [ ] The more you train with him or spar with him the more he’s going to notice about you - and himself in turn.

- [ ] Your sessions are at times going to become charged with ‘something’, often times leaving you both restless at the end of it.

- [ ] Some days the energy is so thick between you that mishaps happen. Like maybe he grabs you a little too rough or in a specific sensitive spot and a moan leaves your lips - causing you both to freeze and then awkwardly try to navigate the rest of the session.

- [ ] Sometimes your sessions are a little more playful - doing silly things that make you both grin and chase after each other. Things most would probably consider ‘flirting’ or ‘gross’ behavior depending on who you asked.

- [ ] Play fighting is a near constant - wrestling? Oh boy….that starts off great until someone shivers and moans (or bodies grinding on bodies causing those special noises) and “now what do we do” - going into the awkward untangling of limbs.

- [ ] Touches when showing new moves or adjusting stances will linger much longer than necessary, sometimes you both get so caught up you really dont notice until some outside factor startles you both apart.

- [ ] What you dont realize is that most of the time? He has to exercise a lot of self control around you. Your scent and the way you interact with him sends his instincts into chaos - the amount of times he’s almost shoved you to the ground to assert himself over you and give into his own…new urges is staggering.

- [ ] Oftentimes you might have him growling against you - be it from holding himself back or instinctively making sounds as you accidentally brush against a sensitive part of him.

- [ ] Monkey is frustrated beyond belief though - you are too I’m sure.

- [ ] If there are others around you guys - they notice something weird about you two. The lingering eyes, touches, and sometimes awkward fidgeting you do (not in a session). And the tension is thick.

DO: NSFW-ish

- [ ] He’s slow but not that slow when it comes to putting 2 and 2 together. Granted, he might need an extra push. What that is could be anything from accidental grabbing, you feeling his hard on during a session, him causing you to bodily react to him.

- [ ] Wouldn’t be surprised if either he makes a move (unconsciously) and thinks he over stepped. Might try to put distance between you until you fix that immediately. OR depending on your reaction 2+2=4 in his head and “oh they want this, this is happening and yeah”.

- [ ] DO - is a bit of a shy guy though. So while he CLEARLY wants you and now he knows you want him - cue awkward behavior round 2.

- [ ] He may not touch you as much and might keep his distance a bit - why? His instincts are kinda going wild. This is a first for him and he fears overstepping (plus again it’s NEW).

- [ ] Might either need some coaxing OR he’s gonna just pounce one day depending on what YOU do (and your preference!).

- [ ] Sessions are more like foreplay now - sometimes still serious of course!

- [ ] Sessions devolve quickly in an instant - at first being as it’s new and well…you’re thirsty for each other. They are always charged and filled with anticipation. (Later when you’re not as in the honeymoon phase training and sparring is more comfortable and can be JUST training or something more if you want it)

Wukong: NSFW-ish

- [ ] So remember how I said he resists shoving you onto the ground? Yeah…that gets broken.

- [ ] See, the great Sage is strong. A pillar of strength if you will. But not against your scent and reactions to him.

- [ ] At some point he’d come to terms with his own feelings (something dramatic happened let’s be real) - and then finally allowed the idea that YOU wanted him back to fester.

- [ ] Sure, by this point hes kind of screwing with you - out of love - and probably doesnt help either of your situations because hes going to poke and pod at your reactions, enjoying every shiver and hot look you give him. The way your breath catches and how your heart beat quickens. He’s a bit of a smug jerk like that.

- [ ] But after time and time again of being subjected to your intoxicating scent and his instincts taking over Wukong finally snaps.

- [ ] Expect whatever he does to be sudden and dramatic. His restraint shattered - depending on your reaction to him, he may keep going or he may back off.

- [ ] Regardless he is going to want you to tell him you want him and what you want with him - consent king. Even if he’s impulsive he doesnt want something like this to be unwanted.

- [ ] Wukong is a major tease - so training sessions are a test of strength for both of you as he purposefully does things to get you riled up (and you him). Often ends with roam hands and mouths (and tail), or bathing sessions which turn into…getting messy and then bathing for real.

Small note for both:

- [ ] When he discovers - be it you saying so or him putting it together in his head - that you get turned on watching him fight/train/stretch etc…..oh boy. He likes showing off an a good day and now? He’s doing it FOR YOU. He fully understands your scent and gaze as you watch him and will definitely flex and train without much clothes on, on purpose. Will absolutely flaunt himself in front of you (and pretend hes none the wiser).

- [ ] Will tease you about it given the chance.

- [ ] If you notice he has a hard on while training/stretching/fighting - just know its for you because you watching him gets under his skin just as much as he gets under yours.

[matchamiko]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: fox quirk!reader, muzzling, injuries (scratched knees). Touya is around 9 and reader is about 10.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ note: I got some inspo for my oc nd decided to turn it into an insert, it’s very self-indulgent nd actually part of something a little bigger I wanna do T-T

It was a little bit rude of you to interrupt his outside playing, his scooter time in the street outside his house. It was his time to be silly and race the shadows of the pigeons flying above him, his time to scuff his knees and stick his tongue out at the kids walking home from after school club. But you ruined it with your whimpering and pitiful crying, somewhere behind the across-the-street-neighbour’s bins. 

Touya crunches to a halt beside the boxes and cans, hearing shuffling and whining the closer he rolls towards them. He intents to tell you off, that this is his street and not yours, that kids play hide n seek down at the park or in their gardens, and he also intends to chase you away on his scooter, showing you how fast and how crazy he is,

“You’re not allowed back here, it’s dirty and not yours,” he begins, lisp pronounced with the absence of one of his front teeth, “You need to go away,” Touya squats and pushes a bin bag out of the way, socked feet and a plush tail appearing before him. You’re cowering, eyes glistening with tears and nose running, short pointed fangs glinting in the amber light of the afternoon sun. Instead of letting his scooter drop to the floor, Touya gently lowers it to rest against a box of recycling, icicle eyes never leaving yours. You start to cry again when he doesn’t say anything, silent with a wobbling chin. 

There’s a heavy wire muzzle over the lower half of your face. Leather straps cut into your cheeks and stretch over your head between two powdery orange ears tipped in black, flattened to your hair and quivering all over. 

Touya doesn’t say anything, shuffling forwards slowly, grit scratching under his trainers and you, at first, flinch as if about to flee. But there’s something in the way he holds out his sticky fingers and prods the grazes on your knees, face soft and curious and boyish. 

“Did a bully do that?” he’s referring to the muzzle, voice soft and you shrink in on yourself, hiding in the shadows of the bins, “I can help take it off, I bet it hurts alot,”

Your eyes are sharp and calculating, afraid and still flooded with tears, 

“M-my tea-cher,” you stutter through sobs, “I accident-tally scratched -,” you gulp in several heaving hiccups, “I hurt-ed someone, accidentally!” 

Touya spots the short, almost blunt claws at the ends of your fingers, looking more like the long nails his mom would get painted at the salon sometimes. He sits lower in his squat, chin leaning on his folded arms over his knees, watching you and your tail that twitches and flicks to and fro. He knows from watching cats that at least you seem less agitated, allowing him to come closer on his knees and reach for the muzzle, 

“I’m Touya, and my house is just that one there,” he offers just like his mom did when she was dressing a cut knee, talking over the pain and shame just as he knows you must feel, “Do you like banana milk? Mom’s got some in the fridge, you want some? It’ll make you feel better I think,” you allow him to touch you, nine year old hands fumbling with the heavy metal clasps behind your head, “makes me feel better when I get a bad grade at school, or if stupid Natsu’ is being stupid,”

The muzzle comes free and he throws it to the floor, the two of you staring at it with fear and repulsion. After a moment, Touya picks it up again and takes it over to the general waste bin, dumping it unceremoniously into the filthy depths. 

“D’you want that milk then?” you’re crawling out from behind the rubbish, ears up and twitching when he picks up his scooter, “I would get you some plasters for your knees but - wait,” Touya thrusts his toy at you, ignoring your yelp as you catch it clumsily, the handle jutting into your cheek, “I can go get some! Mom left the box on the table!” 

He trips as he rushes through the gate, a little oof! making you giggle into your hand and sending a rosy flush to his cheeks, “Don’t play on my scooter! It’s special!” he doesn’t see you nod, disappearing into his house with a shout of his brother’s name. 

It takes him a little while to return, the sun beginning its descent and the streetlights flickering on while you wait patiently with his scooter. You’ve seen kids at school playing with them, riding them to school far ahead of their parents or older siblings and it makes you a little resentful towards the sleek black car that drops you off every morning and picks you up every afternoon. Except for today. You ran away today, not even taking your school bag, ignoring the shouts of the driver and his panicked phone calls. Tears threaten again and you scrub them away, feeling the welts of the muzzle still present on your cheeks, and it’s Touya’s return that shakes you out of your misery. 

“I got a lot of stuff, but I gotta be quick cause it’s getting dark and dad’ll be so mad,” he shudders at the thought, careful not to trip over the step this time and you catch the carton of banana milk that falls from his arms. Touya drops everything to the floor away; several plasters with aliens on them, a damp dish cloth that has grit on it now, a chocolate bar and a second carton of milk, this one mango flavoured. He squats down to brush off the rag, flicking your skirt out of the open wounds on your knees, cleaning them roughly and a little terribly, sending tears spurting out of your eyes again, 

“Oh m’sorry,” he says quietly, looking up at you and frowning at you rubbing wetly at your cheeks, but you nod through it, encouraging him, “I’ll put the plasters on now, they’re my actual favourite, and you can drink the milk by the way, I got it for you,”

You juggle his scooter and the straw for the milk, successfully piercing the cardboard and sipping with a sniffly nose, giggling when Touya points out his favourite alien and then his least favourite one, blobby and red (“looks like Natsu’ when he was born”). Then, after criss crossing your knees with plasters, he tells you all about his recent birthday and how his scooter was his absolute best present ever, how he’s ridden it every day after school and also on the weekends,

“If you wanna ride it, you can! You don’t cry all loud and gross like the little kids so you’re not that annoying,” Touya stands and opens up the chocolate bar, halving it very badly and handing the larger piece to you, “You could come round tomorrow after school, unless you have a club or study or something but if you don’t come inside, then dad won’t mind,”

“I don’t do clubs after school,” you say with a scratchy voice, “m’not allowed,”

“Oh,” his mouth is full of chocolate and he swallows loudly, goo stuck to his upper lip, “well, that’s okay, that means you can come and play whenever you want, I think I like you alot so I don’t mind if you wanna use it but you are not allowed to go faster than me, I’m the fastest,” Touya’s threat is empty and followed by a big gummy grin, teeth brown and sugary. You nudge him and laugh with your belly, chomping on your own snack and drinking your milk with crinkled eyes, 

“You’re funny Touya, and you're really nice, I think I like you too,”

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[girlygguk]

girl what?

„as the pretty waitress walks away, you steal a quick glance at Jungkook, curious if he noticed the way she blatantly flirted with him. But, to your surprise, he seems completely unfazed, swirling his straw in his drink with casual indifference. Hm. He definitely noticed.“

why is she looking for a reaction when she’s sitting with her ex boyfriend and fuckbuddy on a table where said ex boyfriend constantly talks about their past relationship? that doesn’t make sense and shows absolutely nothing of her being „whipped“ for jk other than her being someone who’s childish and loves to keep someone at the side so she doesn’t have to worry about the outcome. she’s two timing meaning her ex should stay an ex and know his boundaries just like her meanwhile if she is apparently whipped for jungkook then why ditch him or better yet be so disrespectful the night of them sleeping together and then throw him out of your house just because your ex texted you? that’s her giving taehyung useless hope and treating jungkook as a side piece just because she can’t decide anything to save her life.

„you glance over at him, your brows furrowing slightly. He’s clearly frustrated, and you just blink slowly. You didn’t care about Taehyung’s comments. Why should he?“

„brushing it off“ or „I didn’t care why should he“ how would anyone know that she didn’t care when she has still contact to her ex, texts him, lets him speak about shit that’s in the past while staying mute to it and not say something like „hey you know what i feel uncomfortable talking about something thats already done and we have company thats not something anyone wants to hear“ knowing how the boy she’s „whipped“ for is tense and uncomfortable? the same goes with the hoodie incident why is she saying that she would normally wear it but can’t because it would piss jungkook off which then explains that she knows he he has some type of „feelings“ towards her and she’s aware of it so why act like you don’t know that he’s into you when you act dumb of not knowing why he would be uncomfortable sitting with your ex chatting about your past with him. it’s not jungkook who brings around his fuckbuddy and ex on a table to chat about his past when that’s her doing it i also don’t give a fuck about taehyung and junkook agreeing to it when they were clearly insecure and challenging one another when oc could’ve shut that shit down but didn’t and no it’s not a woman thing wtf 😂 it doesn’t matter if both of them see other people it’s just fucking weird to say you’re whipped for someone but your actions say otherwise and shows me how egoistic you actually are. nobody got time for that shit

— — —

gonna be dead fr i was abt to delete this ask because it’s 470 words and i don’t see a deposit in my bank account to beta read a drabble you wrote, but i’m feeling charitable today so here we go !!

there’s a lot to unpack here 😟 and i’m in the middle of proofing a chapter for another fic rn, so i’ll just choose 1 of the 4 paragraphs you sent in to debunk.. but i hope the clarity i’m going to try and provide inspires you to inference a little in the future.. maybe read the fic again with a fresh outlook on life, baby?? because it’s giving woman hater and i just don’t know how else to put it 😭

like do i actually need to sit there and hold your hand the entire way through the fic… is that what you need...? 😭 i’m just confused how you managed to form such strong opinions on the story but missed every contextual clue and implication actually written in the text…

comprehension and interpretation skills 😞 an underrated and apparently sparse talent amongst the human race indeed 😞

"[1] why is she looking for a reaction when she’s sitting with her ex boyfriend and fuckbuddy on a table where said ex boyfriend constantly talks about their past relationship? that doesn’t make sense and shows absolutely nothing of her being „whipped“ for jk other than her being someone who’s childish and loves to keep someone at the side so she doesn’t have to worry about the outcome. [2] she’s two timing meaning her ex should stay an ex and know his boundaries just like her meanwhile if she is apparently whipped for jungkook then why ditch him or better yet be so disrespectful the night of them sleeping together and then [3] throw him out of your house just because your ex texted you? [4] that’s her giving taehyung useless hope and treating jungkook as a side piece just because she can’t decide anything to save her life."

[1] ok i won't lie... i put that line in there as a lil jokey joke to show oc’s real-time interest instead of just relying on reminiscing or implications. but... it seems even that flew over your head? 😭 sorry, baby :-( let me rewrite it, i just can't sleep knowing i had to make you read between the lines so hard. i should've been more transparent 😞

"as the pretty waitress walks away, your head snaps toward jeon jungkook—the disgustingly sexy football jock you've been in a casual friends-with-benefits situationship over the last couple years—and you glare at him while seething with rage. the waitress was flirting with him. how dare she? he’s your man… even if he doesn’t know it yet. 😠😡😤 why is he twirling his straw in his drink like he didn’t just order your food with that horny little smirk while he talked to her?? god, he wants to fuck her so bad. what a disgusting fuckboy. kim taehyung would never do this to you." hope that helps ❤️

and also - jk is the one who basically made her go to the dinner she didn’t want to go to in the first place... she went for him. whipped for jk exhibit c... but we’ve already established you missed out on tickets for exhibits a and b, so i understand 😔💔

[2] TWO TIMINGGGGGG AHHHHHHHHHSADDAFDA 😭😭😭😭 i nearly choked on my coke zero sugar limited edition oreo flavor when i read this oh my godd... howww did you gather that? 😭 there’s obviously going to be some sort of an explanation for why their relationship is the way it is in part two... like the first part ends on a cliffhanger?? the climax is literally still coming, was that not... obvious? 😳

[3] threw him out because her ex texted her????? how quick did you skim-read the first fawking scene oh my goddd 😭 her phone wasn’t even mentioned until she was already pissed?? and even if she did receive a text from him, it’s literally clarified before they head to the diner that she hadn’t spoken to tae for three days. the night at her house was two days ago. the math... it isn’t mathing ur honor 😞😞😞😞

[4] giving tae hope and treating jk as a side piece?????? this. this is ART. your ability to read a fic and completely rewrite it into your own version is UNMATCHEDDD!! pleaseee drop the main blog @ because i just know you’d put every oneshot of mine to shame. how do i deactivate my blog???? you’ve clocked me. i’m done for. i'm jobless. i can’t possibly write another word knowing your talent exists /gen 😔

[keithsandwich]

First, on the phone

Pairing: Alter Keith/Maeve (OC)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Phone Sex, Modern!AU, Country!AU (just for context, but it's still more porn than plot), Dirty Talk, Teasing, Language, Guided Masturbation, Alter being a bit of a perv.

Summary: Maeve received a call from someone determined to enjoy every single moment with her to the fullest.

Notes: I don't usually write fanfics heavily based on dialogue, but here we are. Quick context: in this AU, Maeve and Nice Keith were childhood friends until he lost his brother and moved to finish high school in a boarding school. After years away, he has returned, and Maeve is now getting to know Alter Keith properly.

Huge thanks to @bakersgrief for beta reading! 💕

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

“Aren’t you a silly girl?”

“And aren’t you an annoying guy? Gosh! So what if I’ve kept his Muse t-shirt all this time? It’s… It’s a really good shirt!”

“It’s not just the shirt, it’s ya sneakin’ into that guy’s room after he’s gone. Bet ya cried all over his stuff ‘cause ya missed him…”

“Oh my God, shut up!”

“Heh. Too bad ya can’t throw anything at me right now, huh?”

Keith heard Maeve huff in frustration over the phone. If he was honest, it was bad for him too. He missed the sight of her nostrils flaring, her cheeks flushing, and the soft impact of her pillow hitting him. He would take it into his hands, bury his face in it, and fill his lungs with the sweet smell of her hair before tossing it back as they engaged in a pillow fight.

All those sweet moments, ones he had never truly lived but only glimpsed in faded memories that weren’t even his own.

“This ain’t fair, ya know.”

“What isn’t?” Maeve asked lightheartedly, as if she hadn’t been mad at him a moment ago.

“The other guy spent more time with ya than I ever did. And now that we’re talkin’, it’s all about him. You're even wearin’ his shirt while we talk.”

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t know you were gonna call… Besides, you were the one curious about what I usually wear to sleep. You wouldn’t know if you hadn’t asked.”

“And ya answered so eagerly, didn't ya? Why is that? Could it be…”

“There’s nothing much about an old t-shirt!”

“Not for you, maybe. Ya don’t know how my mind works…”

Silence. Two seconds of it, probably. Enough for Keith to let out a sigh as he laid back on the bed, wondering if she was still there.

“And how does your mind work?” Maeve sounded nonchalant, as if she was naive enough to just shrug and ask the obvious question following what he said. As if his mind was like the old, stolen t-shirt to her: nothing much. Not something covering the most delicious and sinful fantasies.

“I’m not good with words, Mae… I’d much rather show ya.”

“Make an effort. I really wanna know what you’re thinking right now,” she pleaded.

Fuck, he thought. She knew exactly how to use her voice to get what she wanted from him.

But not so fast.

“You curious little bird…” Keith whispered quietly. He was so sure that if he did that in her ear she would shiver; he couldn't help but imagine her doing just that alone in her room. “If ya wanna know that badly ya should let me come over.”

“Nah. But think of it this way: if you tell me, I might be convinced to…"

“Ya wouldn’t…”

“I wouldn’t have gone for a surprise night swim at the lake with you either, and yet I did. Remember?”

“How could I ever forget, Mae… Do you miss it already?”

“Hm, maybe… But right now, I really want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Ask nicely, then.”

“Pretty please?”

Again, that voice.

“I’m thinking you’re so damn cute I wanna tease you more.”

“Keith…” she murmured his name so softly it sounded like a moan.

He wondered if he was the one being teased.

“Can’t I tease ya ‘til ya wanna toss a pillow at me again?” He paused, waiting for her to sigh and keep insisting. Or to admit defeat. Whatever came first. But when the sweet little sound of her breath hit his ear, he couldn’t wait any longer. “This is what I’ve been thinkin’, silly girl: teasing you into a pillow fight while ya in this old t-shirt… Making ya jump on your bed, making ya laugh, making ya tackle me just so that I can grab you and pin you down on the mattress. That’s what’s been on my mind.”

“Well, that is… Not so bad?” She giggled in little huffs against the phone.

“Not so bad ‘til I hold your wrists above your head with one hand so I can use the other to check what’s beneath the shirt, Mae…”

“What if I kick you?”

“Giggling all cutely like this? Not sure if it’s gonna work…” He laughed along. “C’mon… It would be better than what we did at the lake…”

“Would you kiss me too?”

“Always…” Keith’s voice dropped, turning lower and more serious. “I’d kiss ya every chance I get. Especially when ya look at me with those pretty eyes of yours… Makes me wanna devour you whole.”

“Keith…”

“Can I touch your thighs as I fill your little mouth with my tongue, Mae? Can I run my hand up until I find out if you’re wearing something underneath this t-shirt ya love so much?”

“...Of course I am…” Her voice sounded so hot and heavy Keith could see her blushing in his mind.

“Of course you are. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Is it a white panty like the one you were wearing at the lake?”

“Oh, shut it…”

“Are ya gettin’ all shy now? Did ya think I didn’t have that image burned into my mind? That wet little mess… So sheer I could see the shape of your pussy perfectly…” His voice sounded more throaty than he intended, but Keith couldn’t control it anymore.

“I didn’t think you were looking… so closely…”

“I’ve got an eye for detail, miss. The perks of having to watch stuff through someone else’s eyes. But what about you, hm? I believe my hard cock wasn’t just a detail ya could’ve missed, was it?”

“Oh, gee… How can you be so… so…”

“Cocky?” Keith let out a quiet and low laugh, and Maeve soon followed. “Ya like it, dontcha?”

“What? Your cock?”

She was being bratty again, teasing him like that. He bit his knuckle. It was becoming harder and harder not to get in his truck and run to her.

“Yeah… That too,” he murmured when he recollected himself. “Have you ever imagined it… stretching your tight little pussy, hm, Mae?”

She sighed.

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself now? You were still using your hand to feel my panties…”

“Our imagination can run free while we feel each other, can’t it? But we can go back to it… My hand on your panties, my thumb… My thumb can rub your clit in little circles, can’t it?”

“Maybe…”

“Are ya losing your breath there?”

“Oh, shush… Don’t…” Another loud sigh. Her voice turned a little more husky, a little more quiet, as she went on: “Keep going.”

He hummed.

“You’re already so wet, aren’t you? I want ya leaking on your sheets, tho. Can ya do it for me, Mae? Can ya think of me pushing your panties aside and playing with your entrance a little with the tip of my finger? Don’t worry, I gotcha… I’ll keep my thumb on your clit all the time, hm?” His voice turned into a mess of labored breaths as he fought the urge to touch the length throbbing inside his sweatpants.

“When you… Say it like this…”

“What? Tell me…”

“It feels nice.”

“Hmm, I know… Ready to let me slide that finger inside you?"

Maeve swallowed her breath. This answer was satisfying enough.

“I won’t go too deep, not now anyway. There’s no need to. I just want to… To feel you, silly girl… Getting all hot and wet and… And clenching around my finger…”

Fuck.

“Keith…” she moaned. She downright moaned.

Fuck.

“Then I would go harder… I would find just… Just the right way to touch you, Mae. To touch your sweet spots… And I would go faster… Mercilessly… Faster… While stuffing your pretty mouth with my tongue… Until you can’t breathe, okay?”

“Okay…” she replied promptly, between hot huffs of air. Without thinking, without teasing, without caring.

Fuck.

“Mae… Cum for me.”

“I, ah…”

“I know you’re close. Don’t be shy now. Let it go, Mae… Cum for me, I need to hear it…”

She moaned again. Keith bit his knuckle again. His erection throbbed again.

He would go crazy.

“Give it to me, Mae. I… I can’t take it anymore…” He paused. The only things that existed were the sweet sounds she made and the overwhelming desire taking over his whole body. Keith held his breath. He thought he could hear wet sounds through the phone, and it would be the death of him. “I need you… Are you listening to me?”

Maeve made an incoherent sound as a reply.

“I… need… you…” Keith groaned like a beast.

She moaned louder. And this time, she didn’t seem able to stop it.

It was… Heaven.

“Attagirl… Enjoying yourself, hm? Go on, take your time…” he whispered softly.

“Hey…” Little by little her breathing started to settle down, and she laughed quietly. “Don’t tease me! I… I did not do anything! I was just… Playing with you!”

“Playing with me, hm?”

“Yes!! Only with you…”

“So, if I come over right now you’ll be all calm and composed?”

“Absolutely!”

“Heh. Let’s see what I’ll find, then.”

“...What?”

But it was already too late for her. Keith had already hung up and was grabbing the keys to his truck without a second thought.

There were many things he had lost because of the circumstances of his existence. He wouldn’t waste another second. He would take Maeve, and all those sweet moments of pleasure and need. All those sweet moments of teasing and laughing.

He would have them all.

Fanfic (all) taglist: @bicayaya, @floydsteeth, @solacedeer, @jozhenji, @scummy-writes

@lorei-writes, @mxrmaid_poet, @bakersgrief, @candied-boys, @aquagirl1978

@valkyyriia, @queengiuliettafirstlady, @welp-back-on-my-bs, @ludivineikewolf, @fang-and-feather

Taglist forms if you want in.

DM if you want out, or if you no longer want to be tagged in NSFW posts.

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit sexual situations, SMUT: fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (p. in v.), dirty talk, overstimulation, explicit language, angst, first love, fluff

Words: 6.3k

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

***Table of Contents***

The Beginning: Part VII

JOSH: People have always pinned us as a curious case of pure luck to be signed to such a successful label so early on in our career, discovered what seems to be “overnight”, and be able to maintain practically all control of our image, schedule, creative decisions, etc. 

But it’s all one snowball effect, to put it simply. 

The web of such fortune began its weave in 2015, after our last show of the year, and stumbled across Al Sutton…well, he stumbled across us, actually.

2015

 The tables of the run-down diner are slightly sticky, the air filled with the smell of fried meat and waffle batter, all topped with coffee and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. 

“...We stopped to eat and then we’ll be on our way home.” Coley says to her dad, pressing her phone to her ear while Julianne rests her cheek against Danny’s arm, closing her exhausted eyes while Sammy pulls yet another piece off of his straw wrapper to ball it up and throw it at her—hitting her in the forehead. 

“Stop, Sammy.” Jules grumbles. 

“Who’s driving?” Her dad inquires.

“Danny or Sammy, probably.” She assures him, knowing that if Josh or Jake do so, he won’t go to bed until she gets home in one piece. 

“The responsible ones.” Sammy announces, leaning closer to her, only for her to push him away while he chuckles. 

“I’ll text you when we leave, and get to their house, and then when me and Jules start home.” Coley states, next.

“Yeah, please do or your mom will call Trace again.” He pleads, not wanting to have his daughter hunted down again by her cop brother-in-law, only to discover she’d been riding around backroads with her boyfriend.

“I will, dad, I promise. I love you.” She yawns.

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She hangs up and glances out the window at her boyfriend, his brother, and her best friend all smoking whilst freezing their asses off. “Danny, you’re driving us back to their house,” She announces, next. “My parents don’t trust Ricky Bobby and Cal Naughton Jr. out there, behind the wheel with their precious cargo in tow.” 

“I can’t say I blame him after you guys’ prom night.” Sammy scoffs. “Right, Danny?” 

Danny doesn’t realize Sam’s talking to him, too distracted watching the older man who’s sitting at the counter—constantly looking over his shoulder at Coley. 

“Oh, my gosh, it was an accident.”  She complains, rolling her eyes. “We didn’t see those people coming—it was raining. Honest mistake.” Coley carries on, glancing down at the menu while Sammy notices Daniel staring at the stranger, and follows his line of sight. 

“You know him or something?” Sam inquires to him, catching Coley’s attention. 

She turns to glance in the direction their attention is in, and Danny averts his gaze before the man can look at them again. 

“He just keeps looking at Coley.” He shrugs. “Kinda weird.”

Furrowing her brows, Coley looks toward the counter and waits for him to look again, while her boyfriend, his twin brother, and her best friend step back inside and squeeze into the corner booth with them. 

Jake’s kissing his girlfriend’s cheek as he sits next to her, while Bellamy says, “I can’t go with you guys to Tennessee, Coley, I’ve gotta take your shifts, remember?” 

She realizes Coley’s not even paying attention to her. 

“Coley, I’m pregnant.” She states, next, in an attempt to break her concentration on whoever she’s got her eyes on.

Josh whistles and waves his hand in front of Coley’s face, taking notice that Sam and Danny are also distracted.  

“B, do we know that guy?” Coley ignores her statement and swats Josh’s hand from her face. 

“What guy?” The brunette asks. 

“The one at the counter. Kinda grey hair.” Danny says to her. 

“Gee, Danny, that’s only half the guys up there.” Jake scoffs before furrowing his brows. “…Where would you know him from, anyway?” He adds to his girlfriend, nudging her side. 

Again, the man glances at the table of teens and Bellamy confirms with a, “Oh, yeah,” that she and Coley do know that guy. 

“He comes in sometimes with his girlfriend or wife or something?” Coley asks, next, trying to see if it’s the same man she’s thinking of that seems familiar. 

“Yeah. Always leaves a fifty.” Bella nods. 

“Yeah!” Coley pipes, a little too enthusiastically for Jake’s liking. 

“Oh, my gosh, you should totally go say, ‘hey’.” He mimics hers and Bellamy's voices. 

“Aww, Jakey, you’re jealous of the random middle aged man getting to see your girlfriend half-naked more than you do?” His girlfriend's friend shoots at him with a pout and he offers her his middle finger. “C'mon, Jake, she fetches him beer and he leaves some money. It’s not like he’s bending her like a balloon animal—”

“—Ugghhh, little ears.” Julianne gripes, plugging her own ears as the topic shifts to her older sister in sexual positions while Danny and Sammy wrinkle their noses.

“I’m just saying.” Bellamy states. 

“How does one get bent like a balloon animal?“ Josh asks, sarcastically. 

“I can show you when we leave here.” Bella jokes. 

“He’d have a fucking heart attack.” Jake laughs at the thought of nearly 5’10” Bellamy getting her hands on his twin brother, who she has to stare down at when they have a conversation standing up. 

“No, you wouldn’t make it, honey.” Coley adds, patting Josh’s leg. “I don’t think any of us would make it. She’s too powerful.”

Josh scrunches his face, about to avidly argue, but then decides perhaps they’re right.

“…Eh, there’s worse ways to go.” He shrugs, before playfully adding to Bellamy, “We’ll talk later,” with a small wink and a nod. 

Once they get their food and finish eating, the waitress comes by to take away some of their emptied plates, and offers, “Can I get you guys anything else?” 

“No, thank you, just the bill.” Bellamy requests, only for the waitress to raise her brows. 

“Oh, it’s been taken care of.” She informs them with the wave of her hand. 

“What?” They all ask. 

“Yeah, the older gentleman at the counter paid it.” She explains with a nod before stepping back to the kitchen with the plates. 

“Our boyfriend came through for us again.” Bellamy sighs in reference to her and Coley, solely to aggravate Jake. 

“Will you stop?” Coley scolds her with a laugh as they get up from the table and head back to the car. 

They’re unaware of the stranger waiting for them outside, climbing out of his car when he sees the group leaving the dinner…

“…Hey, I enjoyed the show tonight.” He says to them, a genuine smile on his face despite their uneasy expressions of having a random man come up to them. 

“Thanks. Thank you. It’s appreciated—we’re appreciative.” Josh stammers out while subtly pushing the girls further to the car. 

“You guys ever consider getting in a studio?” He offers, next, and Coley stalls her steps with Jules and Bellamy both stopping with her. 

“Um…we have but don’t really have the money for one right now.” Jake starts. 

The man nods and reaches in his pocket, pulling out a card and hands it over to Jake. 

“You’ve got one, now. Free of charge—on the front end, at least. You can pay me back when you get filthy rich.” He assures them. “If you’re interested, that is.” 

They all glance at the card that reads, “Al Sutton, Rustbelt Studios” with his information and studio address on it.

DANNY: Once he started explaining artists he’d worked with, was currently working with, and had scheduled to work with, we felt like we were staring at a Golden Ticket.

“…So, this strange man just approaches you guys and handed you his card and you immediately trust that he’s got this studio?” Tammy asks Coley later on that evening while finishing up rubbing her face moisturizer into her skin. 

“Mom, he’s worked with Kid Rock, and Cheryl Crow, and—and Dennis Coffey—”

“—Do you even know who Dennis Coffey is?” Tammy sighs out, raising her brows. 

“…I didn’t until Jake told me, but he  sounded serious enough about it. And we looked him up on the way home and he’s telling the truth! He owns the studio, and he offered for us to record there.”

“For free?”

“Yeah. Well, until we make some money and pay him back.” Coley corrects herself, and her mother leans against her bathroom counter and crosses her arms. 

“You hearing this, Cole?!” She calls out to the bedroom. 

“Yep.” Her dad retorts, and she blinks at her daughter. 

“He sounds just as convinced as I am.” Tammy breathes out.

“Mom, it’s a legitimate deal.” Coley insists. “I got a picture of the card—and you and Ms. Karen and Ms. Lori can call him yourselves Monday morning.” 

Tammy takes in a breath and reaches for her toothbrush before asking, “Do you know what else is a legitimate deal?” 

“If you say anything going back to school, I’m going to scream.” Coley says, growing irritated, and Tammy looks at her in the mirror, dotting toothpaste on her toothbrush. 

“Coley, you guys are practically twenty years old and neither of you are interested in a safety-net—I mean, even doing what Josh is doing is a pretty good idea.”

“Josh’s ‘back-up plan’ that he’s going to school for is literally something almost as unattainable as making it in a band, Mom!” Coley argues. 

Tammy huffs out, beginning to scrub at her teeth, not bothering with going back and forth about it any more. 

“…I’m going to bed.” Stone blue eyes roll into her head when she says it with a sigh and walks to the door. 

“I love you!” Tammy calls as best as she can with a toothbrush in her mouth. 

Ignoring her, Coley walks through their bedroom. 

“Goodnight, June-Bug.” He replies to her, and she closes their door behind her and walks downstairs to go to her bedroom. 

Jake hears her come down the stairs, her steps padding across the floor when she walks to the front door to make sure it’s locked. 

He scrolls through his phone as he waits on her, having been instructed not to make a sound once he snuck inside…

There’s an excited pep in Coley’s step as she moves through the kitchen and back to her room, knowing that her boyfriend is waiting on her. 

When she arrives, she giggles, shutting and locking the door behind her while he discards his phone and gets off of her bed with a smirk of his own. 

She doesn’t have time to move from the door before her back is pressed to it, Jake’s lips catching hers before giving way to tongue. 

He beams down at her once he stops for a split second to excitedly state, “Al fucking Sutton knows who we are.”

Coley’s smile is as warm as his, her fingers bury in his soft hair, a quiet hum leaving her when he kisses her, again.  

“What’d your mom say?” She asks, gasping in a breath when his lips move to her cheek, then her jaw, down her neck…

“They’re gonna call him Monday.” He spits it out, going back to her lips, sliding a hand down to her ass. 

“I meant about you leaving again to come here,” She corrects herself, speaking against his lips before he’s trying to kiss her again. “Jake?” 

He’s too excited, perhaps, his heart still hammering in his chest from the adrenaline of meeting Al Sutton and being offered studio time. 

It feels like one step closer to where they want to go, as if the stars are beginning to fall in line little by little. 

“I got a shower and they’d already gone to bed when I got out.” He simply shrugs and her eyes go wide. 

“Your parents don’t even know you left?” She scolds him. 

“Your parents don’t know you’re hiding me in here, so.” Jake reminds her, leaning down once again. 

She welcomes his lips. 

“What’d your mom say about the Al thing?” He asks after taking the opportunity of catching his breath. 

She doesn’t want to piss on his parade and tell him that she immediately shifted the conversation to Coley going back to college, instead, so she merely says, “She’s gonna look into it.” 

A wide smile slowly pulls at his lips, his nose sweetly brushing against hers before she struggles to swallow the lump of nerves forming in her throat. 

“I need to get a shower.” She whispers, to him, next. “I’ll make it quick, though. Promise.” She pecks his lips and he lets her go, his hand smacking at her ass when she walks to her bathroom—not bothering with grabbing clothes to change into because there’s really no point when he’s already seen her naked. 

She scrubs the smell of smoke and sweat from her skin and hair, and when she’s finished and wrapped in a towel, staring at herself in the mirror, she feels as if her heart is going to explode. 

Coley can’t help but wonder if he knows what she’s about to prompt, or if he even cares, really—if it’s even a big deal to him.

The last time she’d gone so far with someone, it was on a whim and made her feel gross afterward…she doesn’t necessarily want to know when the last time Jake had done it. 

He’s made himself comfortable—she can hear the T.V. turned on in her room—and she chuckles to herself at the thought of him turning down the idea of finally having sex with her, just to watch someone bake some apples.  

She finishes squeezing the excess water from her dark blonde hair before wrapping her hair up in its own designated towel, taking in a final deep breath and opening the door.

He’s too distracted by the woman in the on-screen kitchen, to say the least, to notice his girlfriend’s only in a towel—not even fully realizing she’s out of the bathroom until she’s climbing on the bed. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks, chuckling in a giddy manner when she straddles him and settles in his lap, trying not to move too much despite the temptation of his jeans along her bare skin. 

“Whatever you want.” She replies, fingertips grazing his cheek as his brown eyes stare into hers.

Whatever you want. 

Typically when she says something along the same lines, it’s slyly spoken from her lips with a teasing glint in her eye…this time it’s whispered out with a serious undertone that has his thick eyebrows knitting together.

“Well…what do you want?” He inquires in the same manner. 

“Just you.” She replies quietly with a small shake of her head, leaning forward to kiss him.

It’s gentle but brief, his hands pulling her mouth from his so he can remind her, “You know you’ve already got me without having to do this, right?” 

His hands run down her bare arms for emphasis, certainly not complaining that the only thing between him and the girl he’s fucking obsessed with is a thin towel, but also not pressing the matter too much because she could be a nun and he’d love her all the same. 

She’s had him, no matter what, ever since they first officially met. 

Coley nods in understanding of his words, knowing that sex isn’t going to make him care about her any more or any less than he already does, her lashes brushing against her cheek as she glimpses down at his lips for only a second before meeting his eyes once more.

Their mouths and tongues follow soon after, his hands falling from her face to her hips as a low groan leaves his throat with the grind of her against him. 

“…Are you on anything?” He struggles to get it out as she tugs at his shirt, truthfully not even fully hearing him before she’s finding his lips again. “Coley.” He says, next, getting her attention when he finally angles his head back away from her. 

“Hmm?” She hums, wrapping her arms around his neck, her chest pressing against his as she places a single, open-mouth kiss to his lips. 

“Birth control?” He repeats it, his adam’s apple bobbing with the nervous swallow that follows it. 

“Not yet.” Coley informs him. “I haven’t really needed it.”

Before she can distract him further, he grabs at her shoulders and gently pushes her back, her back meeting the mattress, her hair splaying over the foot of the bed while he shifts to his knees. 

“What about condoms?” Jake asks, next, fumbling with the button of his jeans. 

She shakes her head, feeling her face heat up at the realization that she isn’t prepared for this at all, fearing that he’s going to decide against it overall. 

“We need something, baby.” He tells her, chuckling nervously, as he moves from the bed to stand—nearly pacing as his mind starts to race with nightmare scenarios…

“…Just…pull out.” She suggests, sitting up on her knees, facing him, and he raises his brows and stops

“Pull out?” 

“Yeah. I mean, that’s what you did with the other girls, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, but…I don’t know it just seems pretty fucking stupid to do, now. If something happens the whole band is screwed.” He explains to her. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen—”

“—Coley, your mom gets pregnant anytime your dad looks at her. Sherri got pregnant the first time her and Trace ever did anything. You’re all a bunch of fertile Myrtles.” 

“Nothing will happen, Jake.” She sighs out, finally pulling the towel from around her and tossing it to the floor, revealing her bare skin underneath. 

He lets a curse slip from his lips at the sight of her crawling to the edge of the bed toward him, grabbing at his hand and standing on her knees to pull him closer to her. 

Jake appeases her, his hands roaming her soft flesh before his lips meld to hers once more. 

When she palms at him through his pants, he digs his finger tips into her, and by the time she’s slipping her hand past his waistband, grabbing his length and working at him, he’s having to break from their kiss to heave in a breath—his forehead falling against hers. 

“Fuck, Coley,” He whispers out, the sound of his voice striking her between her thighs. 

Her mouth starts watering at the feeling of pre-cum leaking from him, tempting her to get on her knees at his feet. 

His head tips back while her tongue dances along his throat, her touch hypnotic as she flicks her thumb across his thick tip. 

This isn’t new territory—the two of them becoming well acquainted with each other's hands and mouths a few months into their relationship. 

They’ve just never gotten into the actual physical act—only the foreplay of it. 

Coley’s pulling her hand from him, bringing it to her lips, and he buzzes with excitement when her pink tongue darts out to lick the drops of him from her palm and fingers. 

It’s a raunchy scene compared to the sweet giggle that leaves her when he grabs at her face, bringing her mouth to his because he can’t help but want to kiss her. 

Her back’s soon colliding with the mattress while he tugs a nipple between his teeth, earning a sharp-breathed moan that he silences with his palm. 

“You're gonna have to be quiet, baby, your dad has a fucking gun.” He reminds her, raising his brows. 

Just what he needs with her mom already not a fan of them dating, is for them to realize Jake’s not only to blame for her not going back to college, but also for waking them up in the middle of the night to the sound of their daughter getting screwed. 

She only nods quickly, not minding the pressure of his hand over her mouth as he continues his torture of her chest before licking his tongue down her stomach. 

He takes his hand from her mouth but points a finger as he warns in a hushed tone, “Quiet.”

“I promise, baby.” She swears, her lungs constricting when he places a kiss to the inside of her thighs, then traces along where her thighs meet her pelvis with his tongue…

She’s nearly pitching a fit when he deliberately kisses everywhere except where she needs him the most, Jake smirking into her skin as she attempts to shift her hips to get him to finally pay attention to her painfully wet pussy. 

“Jake.” She pleads when he pulls away from her to kiss her cheek softly…and gasps, “Ohh,” abruptly when his middle finger slides into her. 

Again, his free hand hushes her, his eyes studying her scrunched expression, blonde brows furrowing as she arches underneath him. 

“Coley.” He rasps back to her, his lips lingering just over the back of his own hand. 

Another finger is added, Coley’s nails digging into the covers at her sides while she closes her eyes—her somewhat mouthy whimpers turning into heavy pants, and he uncovers her mouth to kiss her, her hands taking in every inch of his skin that they can, her legs widening all the more to accommodate the mess he’s making of her. 

“It’s fucking heaven.” He breathes out to her, the two fingers inside of her pressing against her tight walls, his cock throbbing with the mental image of being burried to the hilt in her. 

Her mouth falls open at the sensation, while the sound of him toying with her has them both reeling. 

Jake can’t take it anymore, not with her instinctively squeezing at his fingers like she’s trying to milk them, practically pouring out into his hand. 

He pecks her lips before finally joining his mouth with his fingers, his lips and tongue greedily sucking at her clit. 

Her hands fall to his head, her throat growing dry with the moans she wants so badly wail out but instead settles for breathing like a bitch in heat. 

“Jake,” It’s finally whispered out at last after moments, her head lifting to watch him devour her, being robbed of her breath at the sight of his tongue lapping from her. 

She’s nearly crying because of the shocks of pure electricity that feel as though its sparking her more and more intensely, her hands starting to push at his head whilst attempting to bring her thighs together. 

Even in the middle of trying to free herself of the all-consuming pleasure, she can’t help but start, “You’re always—ahh—” It’s squeaked out, two of his fingers once more delving into her. 

“I’m always what?” He inquires, pulling his mouth from her, her legs immediately shutting around his hand as she arches off the bed, gasping while he adds, “Hmm?” 

“So sweet to me.” She finally gets it out, her vision growing blurry as he curls his fingers deep in her slick cunt repeatedly.  

“It’s only what you deserve, baby, for being so good to me,” Jake tells her, the thumb of his other hand running across the swollen tip of his cock as he watches her unravel before him, practically a melted mess in his hand. 

He pulls his fingers from her, sucking them clean himself. 

Her taste is addictive, motivating his sinful actions more, and she’s soon trying to roll over to get away from the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth once more seeking her out despite her being overstimulated. 

She manages to get to her stomach, only because Jake finds it amusing, standing to his feet and grabbing himself to try to soothe his own writhe-inducing discomfort as he looks down at his tired, naked girlfriend. 

Her reprieve is short lived when he grabs at her legs and yanks her to the edge of the bed, her toes reaching the rug under their feet while she’s bent over the mattress. 

“It’s too much, please, baby, I just need a second.” She pleads innocently, sighing out in comfort at the feeling of him hovering over her before he’s placing a kiss to her hair, her shoulder, her cheek…

His lips graze the shell of her ear as he says, “I’m trying to make sure I fit easy enough not to hurt you.”

She relents with a nod and hoarse, “O-Okay,” before he pushes her hair from her shoulders to kiss at the top of her spine, leaving a wake up sloppy kisses that pull a relaxed hum from his girlfriend, stopping in the center of the two dimples at the base of her back. 

It’s now that he drops to his knees, Coley instinctively getting on the tips of her toes to angle just right. 

A look of pure admiration falls on his face as he stares at the swollen juncture of her soaked thighs.

His fingertips run along the warmth of her flesh, causing her to tense and move with him. 

She’s smothering her face into the mattress when he picks up where he left off, his tongue spoiling her swollen, sensitive clit. 

Jake has to hold her thighs still to keep her from trying to get away again, running his palm up the soft skin of her ass before lifting his hand and bringing it down. 

She cries out into the mattress while he licks up more of her impending spend, the hot sting of her skin being soothed over by that same hand while he’s pulling her closer, shaking his head just slightly as he drinks her in…

She can no longer stifle the ecstasy that rocks through her with a white hot heat—her second release vengeful and draining. 

“Jake, Jake, I’m—” Her hand tries to swat his head away from her but he grabs her hand and holds it to her side, “—ohh, fuck, Jake,” it strangled and whiney, her legs shaking as her back curves down, her eyes roll, and her mouth falls open. 

In the haze of her orgasm, she’s rolled to her back, her boyfriend standing over her as she catches her breath. 

She remembers why they’re doing this again, licking her lips when she watches him stroke himself as he looks down at her. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks her, again, and she nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth before hauling herself farther up her bed. 

He follows suit, climbing on top of her as she allows him to move her to accommodate his position, her thighs spreading while he holds his weight on his forearm beside her head, his other hand around his prick as he slides the head of it through her slick folds. 

Her eyes flutter at the feeling, her nails digging into his shoulder. 

“You’re sure?” Jake can hear his heart in his ears, feeling as though the moment is going to disappear before his very eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Coley asks him, starting to believe that maybe he isn’t ready to do this with her just yet. 

He stops teasing her as he looks into her eyes. 

“I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He breathes out, admitting it honestly. 

“I’ve done this before, Jake.”

“Yeah, once.” He replies. “And from what I’ve gathered it wasn’t that good of a time for you so…I just don’t want this to be bad.”

Coley holds his face in her hands, craning her neck to press her lips to his. 

“It’s already a million times better because I’m with you this time.” She promises. 

He grins toothily before leaning down to catch her lips. 

The slow, sweet exchange turns more desperate when he starts prodding at her entrance again, her soaked cunt stretching as he presses the head of his cock into her. 

A low groan leaves him and she winces, pulling back from his mouth to sharply intake a breath. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, trying his hardest not to finish with how tightly she’s squeezing him—and he’s not even fully inside of her just yet. 

“It hurts a little.” She gasps out, her breath stifled by her nervous heartbeat. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks and she shakes her head quickly. 

“No—it’s not bad it’s just…” She takes in a breath as he eases a little bit more into her. “…Big.” Is all she can conclude with. “Are you okay?” She asks him, next, seeing the struggling expression on his handsome face. 

“Mhmm.” He lies, dreadfully imagining the least attractive things he can think of at the moment to calm himself down.  

“I’m trying to relax.” She assures him, not knowing what else to do to make it a little easier. 

“No, you’re relaxed enough I’m just gonna have to…get you used to it.” Jake furrows his brows as he presses into her with a little more force, causing the both of them to sound of pleasure when he bottoms out inside of her. 

She feels beyond full, knowing there’s an extra inch of him that doesn’t even fit inside of her, and he’s damn-near shaking from the feeling of her vice grip, the wet, hot walls of her pussy cinching tighter around him when he slowly pulls out of her. 

The drag of his cock head inside of her has her making a sound he hasn’t quite heard from her. 

“Does that feel good?” He inquires huskily. 

She can only nod, feeling unable to speak or think at the moment. 

“What about this?” Jake asks, delving back into her a little faster. 

“Mhmm.” She chokes out, her hips beginning to meet his with enthusiasm, chasing away the initial pinch of discomfort. 

“There you go.” He encourages her, planting a single kiss to her chin before shifting to his knees, looking down. 

He stares at where they’re connected, seeing her split open on him, her pretty pussy filled to the brim, leaking down his cock. 

“Fuck, I wish I could take a picture.” He mutters, holding her hips and pulling out of her, only to go back in to see her stretch around him. “Look,” He tells her, next, and she props herself up, chest heaving as she watches the same thing he does, mewling at the sight of him disappear into her, feeling his head against her cervix before he’s pulling out again. “Gimme your hand, baby, I want you to feel it,” He tells her and she doesn’t even argue, offering him her soft palm. 

He places it between her stomach and pelvis, pressing his over the back of hers, and once more fucks into her slowly. 

Jake curiously gauges her reaction, her mouth falling open from the pressure combined with the already overwhelming feeling of him completely claiming her. 

Blue eyes look at him as if she’s drunk. 

“I love you,” She tells him, tears breaking over her lashes. 

“Not as much as I love you.” He promises, her knees pulling upward and her toes curling when he takes advantage of her parted lips, licking at her tongue before picking up his pace little by little, his thrusts growing rougher until Coley’s legs and arms are wrapping around him, the two of them lost in each other’s bodies, muffling one another with each other’s mouths that move together just as fervent. 

A ring of her gathered arousal lines the base of his cock, and he’s taking a moment to swipe at it with his fingers before offering them to her. 

She’s sucking his digits into her mouth, savoring the taste of them mixed together, and he keeps his fingers there to gag her when she starts carrying on without a care of being heard at this point. 

If they get murdered by her parents, it’s well worth it. 

“Quiet, remember?” He asks. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight.” 

He adjusts his angle, aiming for the spot that only his fingers were able to unveil to her even existed, and when she snaps her already teary eyes to look up at him in a daze, he knows he’s struck gold. 

“Is that it, baby?” He asks her. “Hmm? Is that what’s gonna do it again?”  

He continues to push into her and she squirms underneath him, confirming to him all he needs to know. 

Jake doesn’t let her get away, outright bullying her walls, holding her hips, forcing her to speak. 

“Jake, it’s so—fuck, I’m…” She can’t put it into words, the knot forming once more in her core beginning to untangle itself as she gasps for breath. 

“Let it go, baby, c’mon,” He snaps into her harder, burying his face in her neck to pepper kisses along her sweat-slickened skin. 

“Ahh!” She’s somewhat silenced by his mouth, her nails clawing down his back as she bites into his bottom lip, heat prickling across her skin while her head swims and her cunt spasms around him. 

She turns from him to try to capture another breath, his lips sweetly pressing along the stream of water rolling from her eye, his hands running through her hair that’s splayed across the mattress around her head.  

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers in her ear, her angelic face twisted so delicately, her lips parting to let her pant, her hips desperately meeting his despite her exhaustion from her second orgasm, and she sighs out from his praise. “You’re doing so good, baby, it feels so good. You’re taking it so fucking good.” 

“I wanna take more.” She pleads, her legs opening wider for him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you—I think that’s—ah, shit, Coley.” He hisses when she squeezes around him on purpose. 

“Please, baby, I wanna feel all of it.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods, his forehead resting against hers as he pushes into her again, this time continuing to press into her when the tip of his prick finds her cervix. 

His palm has to cover her mouth when she moans wantonly at the painful rapture rooting itself inside of her, her soft legs snaking around him to keep him there…

Pulling out of her again, he slowly repeats it, grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers through hers, pinning it to the mattress before replacing the hand on her mouth with his lips. 

He can feel himself on the brink of his end, and it’s only spurred on by the sound of her sultry moans muffled by their kiss. 

That, mixed with the lewd sounds of him fucking into her, along with the the blindingly perfect way her hot, soaked pussy continues to cinch and relax around him rhythmically, has him almost missing his time. 

“Fuck,” He huffs, quickly pulling out of her to jerk himself off through his orgasm, his cum spreading across her stomach as she pants, the two of them shining with sweat and struggling to breathe as he kisses her chest, then her lips, sharing a lazy, tired and short lived exchange of tongue before he falls next to her. 

They lay there in silence for several minutes, worn out…

He finally leans over to her, nestling the tip of his nose along hers—eliciting a giggle from her—before stealing another kiss and stepping to her bathroom to grab a rag to clean her off. 

While he’s doing that, adrenaline is pumping through her, her eyes staring up at the collage on her ceiling of them together through the years. 

Perhaps it’s the fact she’s already had an exciting night after now knowing an established producer is a fan of theirs and is extending an opportunity to them…and now all of this is only heaping more emotion onto that, but her lip is quivering and tears are rolling down her face again by the time Jake returns. 

He’s quickly but gently wiping her off and discarding the wash cloth, pulling her sheet over her to cover her up as she wipes at her eyes. 

“…What’s going on, Coley?” He finally asks, softly, when he gets back beside her in the bed, gladly accepting her when she shuffles closer and wraps her arm around his waist and rests her cheek against his chest. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” She promises, shaking her head. “I just…I don’t know. Things just feel different.”

“Different?” He asks, trying not to sound worried or afraid, and she picks her head up and looks at him. 

“A good different.” Coley explains, his thumb coming up to wipe under her eye. 

He knows what she’s trying to say, struggling to explain in-depth how palpable it all feels now that they’ve shared every piece of each other.

“I love you.” He says, smiling at her while running his fingers up and down her back as the beat of his heart under her palm soothes her, his eyes widening as he takes a moment to randomly repeat to her, “Al fucking Sutton knows who we are.”

JAKE: Mom, Lori, and Tammy met that Monday and gave Al a call. That’s when we officially scheduled our time in the studio and the production of our first EP. 

Coley’s eyes crinkle up with her grin, her lips pecking his chest, before she’s leaning up, kissing his jaw, stating, “Yes, he does,” before and finally kissing his lips. 

His hand grabs at her thigh to pull her to straddle him—igniting another laugh from her while he nips at her shoulder. 

COLEY: That night kinda started the pattern that formed an inside joke between all of us…while something big is happening for us professionally, something big is happening for us, personally, too…I think that was one of the only times—for me, at least—that what was happening professionally wasn’t a complete contradiction to what was happening personally. I could be happy that Al Sutton knew who we were, and also be happy that me and Jake had taken another step in our relationship. 

There was no having to fight through grief to try to be excited about a new opportunity, or accomplishment in our career. 

.

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TAG LIST: @takenbythemadness , @edgingthedarkness , @zooweemama555 , @fleetingjake , @lizzys-sunflower , @hollyco

[skyfallscotland]

Hi! I hope you’re feeling better. 💜

When I’ve heard writers talk about their process, some outline a character before they start writing and outline everything- the charcater’s history, personality, etc. While other writers say the character “talks” to them as they write and they don’t plot a lot out before hand. I’m curious- how much of Remi’s personality did you determine before you started writing? For example, did you know she was wonderfully snarky before you started writing? Did you always know she struggled with depression?

I know you’ve written other OC’s too. Has your process changed since writing Tessa and co?

Hi!

I...am incapable of lying lol. I'm not really, but I appreciate the sentiment 💗 Not looking for sympathy, just keeping it real 💀 The depression be doing some depressing. But hey, *sobs as I smash at my keyboard* it makes for great content!

I don’t hear it. I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my own heart and one memory on repeat. You can love someone and hate them a little at the same time. My mind is stuck on that. I know he loves me, but—he hates me, he hates me, he hates me—I fucked things up.

I never outline an entire character before I start writing. I have an idea in my head, but not a whole profile. I don't even name them until I'm part way through a story, they're "Name" usually until like chapter five-ish and then I hate their names until like chapter ten.

The case of Remi is a little different, honestly I've kind of done things backwards. When I created Tessa I had an idea of what her personality would be, based on what she'd been through living in Illyria and there were small parts of myself I incorporated into her, like her struggle with social settings and relationships. With Stella I was more just having fun, but keeping in mind the (broad overview) history I had planned for her. They do kind of just write themselves, if I'm honest. It's why I like to write ahead, because I only ever have a broad plan in mind.

I don't know that I ever really planned to publish BRV outside of like a little wattpad adventure. It was entirely self-indulgent. I tried very hard with Tessa and Stella to have them be...measured? I guess you'd say. To not pour too much of myself into them.

Remi was cathartic. There's so much of me in her. She was my 'whatever, it's not serious' character and story. I just threw whatever I wanted at the page without worrying about whether things were realistic or too self-indulgent and I guess that worked for a lot of people.

I knew she'd be snarky and a realist and that she wouldn't be as settled as Violet with her chronic illness. I knew she'd be depressed and quick to anger because that's me and my experience and it was a therapeutic process pouring all that out onto the page. So I guess I didn't really need to determine anything, I just wrote from the heart. She's almost self-insert. It's made it really comforting that people relate to her so well, because it feels like they relate to me, when no one else does outside of the internet.

It's funny because I'm trying (and never making time) to plot out the original novel I plan on writing and there's this voice in my head like saying I have to be measured and I have to plot out these characters first and their whole histories and personalities because it's a Serious Thing, but then I'm reminded that the character I wrote who resonated the most with people was just me throwing my unhinged feelings into the void, so???

Also, I had intended my first original fantasy novel (featuring a chronically ill fmc and dragons) to have two main characters—Remi and Caden. Then Fourth Wing came out and I screeched in fury. I used the name for BRV anyway, but... 🙃

And the MMC for my sports romance is named Liam and I wanted to give the FMC a nice tough girl name like Sloane 😭 but I guess the universe said fuck you, again, so that's a nope, so if anyone has suggestions here I am.

[phant0mmm-jaiden]

do you still want to talk about your spn oc? because if yes i'm so curious how she would interact with other demons like meg or ruby and how that would affect the canon plot

HIHIHI IM ALWAYS READY TO TALK ABT HER

i’m actually working on re-designing her older fits, i’ll reblog with 🎉

This ended up being so much longer than I thought it would be, and I got a little at topic at times.

I talk about her relationship with other demons, but also her relationship with the brothers given she’s a demon (specifically the reveal that she’s a demon) and also briefly her relationship with Angels. Its all going to be below the cut because *good god* I could yap and I did yap, I hope you’re ready for that

I high-key forgot how much i disclosed in my OG post so bear with me.

Jaiden was a demon, something happened down the line in the 70s that didn’t align with the other demon. What did she do? i don’t know yet. She was tortured again in hell until that got boring- bcs she’s a demon she’s not as fun as humans, she can take a lot more. So they wiped her mind, nerfed her demon abilities, and sent her back up to play some Cat and Mouse. While she’s running she meets Bobby and she gets adopted 🎉🎉

Bobby and the brothers know she’s a demon, Bobby knew since day 1 and The brother find out through Gordon in Season 3 episode 7

Demons can see that she’s a demon, but she can’t see other demons- a part of the Cat and Mouse chase.

MEG is mostly a non-problem because Jaiden isn’t in season 1- she’s introduced in season 2. I know she shows up possessing Sam but because having Meg drop hints that Jaiden’s a demon doesn’t get resolved until season 3, I just imagine she doesn’t. I do this because if this was a real part of the show, it would be a loose end, so i choose to have it introduced in season 3 where it’s resolved.

RUBY is a bigger problem. She definitely dropped hints that Jaiden was a demon but never said it straight up. Before i rewatched season 3 I was bouncing around a few ideas of how it’s revealed to the Winchesters she’s a demon, one of those ideas is that Ruby revealed it. It would play out like Ruby and Dean are arguing about why Dean doesn’t trust her blah blah blah, and she’d say something like “You’re working with a demon like her, what makes me any different” while gesturing towards Jaiden, and then her and the brothers look at each other like 👁️👁️ “what does she mean by that?”

ultimately I thought it fit better it flowed better when I changed it to Gordon revealing it when he’s trying to kill Sam in the warehouse at the end of Fresh Blood, Afterwards I imagine the Winchesters are pretty apprehensive, borderline betrayed and pissed, at Jaiden, but she’s cooperative with answering their questions. They say get in the Devils Trap, she says “okay”.

Throughout season 3 they’re still side-eyeing her a bit, but she bought them Christmas presents and has never acted as a double agent (because Demons hate her just as much as she hates them.) so by Season 4 it’s just another thing they live with, she’s still their sister at the end of it.

Pre-exposure I want there to be little non-verbal hints that she’s a demon that happens strictly in the background. (Because if she were a real part of the show I think it would be cool to have those gif clip collections of it in a post like ‘Jaiden Demon Hints’) It would be things like her avoiding Devils Traps or carefully walking around her. She’s never the one throwing the Holy Water because it’s too risky and she might also get hit.

Post-exposure there are always little side jabs at her demon-ness from other Demon and Angels. Angels see her as a lowly rotten stain on the planet, demons think of her as a filthy reject.

She also can’t sense Angels like she can’t see Demons. However, I do have a fun little vision for season 4 when Cas first gets introduced that, even though she doesn’t know what he is, she’s terrified to her core, like in a primal way, because angels are like her natural predator. Any demon still left in her wants to run. After she gets more used to angels being around her that feeling fades.

CROWLEY and their relationship is a bit messy (partly because i don’t remember much past season 6), it’s dependent on the season and where he finds himself aligned with the Winchesters. In the seasons he working with the Winchester, they’re mostly cool with each other. In the seasons he’s working against them, she hates the bastard. I know in season 5 she’s inclined to like him a bit more because he gave Bobby his legs back, but that immediately changes in season 6 when he refuses to refund Bobby’s soul, twists Cas against them, and uses her and the Winchesters to do his dirty work

MEG in the later seasons also finds herself opposing the Winchesters, but if I remember correctly, season 6 on she’s actually pretty chill. Jaidens a little jealous that Cas got to have a little make-out session with Meg in season 6 because Jaiden is a bisexual mess, and in season 7/8? (whenever Cas is in the mental hospital dealing with Satan in his head) Jaiden will call up Meg and check in on Cas and have some small talk.

She misses Meg and Crowley after they’re gone, a lot because they died to her and the Winchesters can live.

I think that about covers it LAKSKDD

If you want to know more i can tell more (this is after this post has been trimmed down), just give me the prompt and it will be delivered

[decafdoodlez]

What’s the current art project you’re working on? I’m just curious and your art’s beautiful you don’t have to share unless you want to, remember to eat a snack and stay hydrated 🥹

Hi there, sweet anon! 🫶✨ (thank you btw, I hope you are treating yourself well today!)

Currently, I’m actually away from home visiting my family for their spring break, so I haven’t actually been really been working on anything this week outside of my freelance work (which is the boring stuff anyway, haha). 😭

But I did draw this for my friend the other day! It’s our TPoF OCs, Marina and Felix, haha. It’s a continuation of a Valentine’s Day post I did last month with Fox and another moot’s OC. :)

He drew my header image the other day when I was feeling a bit sad, so I kind wanted to return the favor, haha. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

But if you’re wondering about anything upcoming for unserious projects, I’ll throw some things out there about what I want to draw:

TPoF OC Marina and Fox full render drawing (thinking a nice beautiful skin-to-skin embrace, we’ll see)

Some Ren/Fox shitpost drawings (like them in a buc-ee’s tshirt or holding a what-a-burger cup, idk, hahaha)

Ren animated lip sync video (there’s a certain audio with a certain Genshin character that’ll work VERY well with him, hehe)

Ren/Fox animatic (something a bit angsty)

TPoF OC x Canon multi panel comics

Strade x Rika (YKMET OC) drawings

Rory drawings (just to get into a rhythm with him)

NSFW drawings of Rory bc I need him in ways that are unholy.

General NSFW drawings with my TPoF OC Marina and Fox bc I love them.

For my more serious stuff:

Ref sheet for Rory (OC from the unnamed VN I want to develop)

Concepts and backstory/profile for Penn and Izzy (OCs from the unnamed VN I want to develop)

Ref sheet for Rika (BTD/YKMET OC)

Scripting for the VN

Make a commission sheet

Work on making plushies (I’ve started drafting out a Fox plushie, but I’m going through a few iterations before I settle on a design.)

I’ll probably get more into a rhythm with my art when I’m home next week! I’ve kind of been a little busy this week with work and visiting family. :)

But yeah, so far that’s what I’ve got! I’m always open for suggestions though! I would love to hear what people would want to see! 🤍✨

[elizabethblake]

That’s for me to know and for you to figure out - pt.11

Panic Imagine -- Dodge Mason x OC (Reese Silvers) -- pt.11

A girl from a wealthy family wants to get out of Carp just as much as everyone else. With the new guy in town, she seems to be a bit more distracted than she had hoped. And those who once were her friends just may be the ones who will throw her into the deep end. Will panic be what she hopes, or will she fall into the depths of deceit and lies?

“Luke Hall is taking bets on Panic. That’s why he’s back in town.” Heather said as she sat on my bed.

“To track the game?” I asked. 

“Or to fix it.” She said.

“Fix it?” I asked. 

“Reese think about it, he was at the jump last year. He graduated years ago, isn’t it a little bit weird that he comes back the same summer that two of the leading players die in like freak accidents? That really seems like one hell of a coincidence.” She said. 

“Yeah, both Jimmy and Abby’s deaths are connected to the game, but if Luke is taking bets. Then maybe he’s connected to them too.” I said. 

“Look, I gotta get home but I’ll call you later okay.” She said before leaving.

After Heather left I headed over to Dodge’s place. I walked up and knocked on the door.

“Hey can we talk?” I asked as he answered it.

“Sure, come in.” He said and we made our way to his room. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Heather says people are gambling on Panic.” I said.

“Some of them are putting $10,000, $20,000 on each challenge. They think Luke might be in charge.” I added.

“Hmm.” Dodge hummed.

“You’re not surprised.” I said. 

“Because you knew didn’t you?” I asked. 

“Yeah.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Cortez suspected ever since he found out about Panic, but he didn’t know enough about the game or how it worked in order to build a case so um he needed a way in.” He said and I scoffed.

“So you’ve been helping him?” I asked. 

“He wants Luke in jail. This is the only way.” He said. 

“Oh okay, so what you’ve been like spying on us this whole time?” I asked. 

“No, I’ve been trying to win.” He said. 

“How does that help Cortez?” I asked.

“It’s not illegal to gamble in Texas okay. But it is a felony to be the house that’s how we’re going to catch him. If I win, we can prove that Luke is getting a kickback as the bookie. That’s what Cortez needs.” He said. 

“So you’re doing this for revenge?” I asked. 

“Cause Heather told me about your sister. I’m not mad that you lied to me, I’m just curious as to why you thought you couldn’t tell me. I told you everything about what happened and you still kept it from me. But it’s really none of my business I guess.” I said. 

“I’m playing for Dayna.” He said. 

“Yeah. I get that. But you lied Dodge, repeatedly. And I just. I can’t trust someone who lies.” I said as I turned around to leave. 

“Reese.” He said. 

“No. I’m out of Panic. I’m done, our alliance is over there’s nothing else to it.” I said. 

“Really? Was sleeping with me just part of the alliance too?” He asked. 

“No. And you know that. But this mess with Cortez, I don’t want any part of it. I’m trying to burn my broken bridges and go down with them and if any of this gets caught up with me it’s going to be a shit show. So I am sorry Dodge but I can’t have anything to do with Panic anymore.” I said before I left. 

When I got home I noticed my brother’s car and made my way inside.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d be home.” I said. 

“Yeah, haven’t been out much lately.” He said and there was a silent pause.

“Rhett, I’m out of Panic. I got eliminated.” I said, and his eyes shot up to meet mine. 

“I swear to you, I’m gonna get the money. I will help you find a way.” I said and he only sighed.

“Reese, this isn’t your fight you need to quit trying so hard. I got us into this, you weren’t even supposed to be involved in this.” He said. 

“But I am. And if you don’t find the money Rhett. He is gonna kill you.” I said. 

“Maybe not.” He said.

“Maybe we could go to the cops see if Cortez can help.” He said. 

“Thats a bad idea, the cops won’t help if they know why you were there and Cortez is dirty Rhett.” I said. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“Cortez is trying to pin something on Luke, something big. But I know Luke didn’t do it.” I said. 

“What?” He asked. 

“On Halloween 3 years, Dodge’s sister was in a hit and run and it left her paralyzed. Cortez has Dodge convinced it was Luke who hit her but I know it wasn’t.” I said. 

“I was with Ray on Halloween that year. It was freshman year, Ray wouldn’t shut up about how his brother was sitting in jail for some stupid thing that he did. But he was in jail, he wasn’t out roaming the streets and hitting people and driving off.” I said. 

“So what? Maybe Cortez got it wrong.” Rhett said.

“Cortez would know Luke was in jail that night, he would’ve already looked into where he was. That would be the first thing, which means I think Cortez is dirty.” I said. 

“Just stay out of it. Don’t get yourself caught Reese.” He said before leaving, but then stopped. 

“Oh this letter was on the porch when I got home.” He said, picking up an envelope with my name written in bold and handed it to me. 

“Thanks” I said, and he left the room. I opened the envelope and a paper was inside. 

TUMBLEWEED MAZE 10PM. ASSIST DODGE IN HIS TASK RULES DOWN BELOW

“Shit.” I muttered. 

I pulled up to the place around 9:45 pm and after about 10 minutes I saw Dodge’s car pull up. 

“What the hell?” He asked as he got out of his car. 

“You’re the welcome committee?” He asked. 

“I guess so.” I said. 

“At least you don’t have to pay for admission.” I added and began walking. 

“Tumbleweed maze? I’m almost offended.” Dodge said. 

“Judges...they’re looking for a specific key. Find it and you’re in. You have one hour. And keep it moving, because every minute you spend looking, well that’s just another point you won’t get.” I said. 

“In three, two, one.” I counted down and he walked towards the barn. 

The next morning we were told to meet at the motor lodge, when I pulled up I went inside and saw that most everyone was already there, I walked over and sat at the table with Heather. 

“Hey.” I said. 

“Hey.” She said. 

“I’m sorry you got out.” She said. 

“It’s all good, Sorry about you too.” I said. 

“Friends, players, former contestants, the results of the individual challenges have been tallied. All the points have been scored. Shawna quit, so she’s out of the game. Dodge is in first place and will be heading to the Joust. The player competing against him is as yet undetermined.” Diggins said. 

“What?! Why?” Ray asked. 

“I mean I stayed long enough in that shithole cooler, didn’t I?” Ray asked. 

“Not long enough to beat Dodge’s time” Summer said.

“The individual challenges aren’t done yet Ray. By order of the judges, Natalie Williams is disqualified for reasons of false representation and failure to complete the required challenges. As punishment the player’s points have been retroactively invalidated.” Diggins said. 

“English please?” Drew asked. 

“The judges wiped Natalies score because she cheated.” Diggins added and Ray laughed.

“She was never in Spurlock’s house. Shouldn’t have even made it to Graybill let alone the final four.” Diggins said. 

“That’s, that’s bullshit. All right that’s hearsay” Nat said.  

“True. We heard you say it.” Summer said.

“That’s a good one Summer.” Nat clapped back.

“No you admitted it in your video that you trapped me underground. That’s nowhere near the house, right?” Heather said.

“Plus someone ratted you out to the judges.” Diggins said. 

“All right, fuck you guys.” Nat said before getting up and leaving.

“You were outside watching the house, Dodge covered for you.” Diggins said, and I turned to look at Dodge. 

“What?” I whispered to Heather and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Wait hold on hold on hold on, wait a second. If Dodge helped Natalie get through the last challenge then why is he still playing?” Ray asked.

“Well he was stealing for two, lucky he didn’t get double the points.” Summer said and people started talking over each other.

“All right settle down, settle down. At the time of the judge’s selection of the Final Three, excluding Natalie, the players in order were Dodge, Ray, and Heather.” Diggins said, and I turned to look at heather with a open smile on my face.

“But Heather missed a challenge.” Drew said. 

“Well she still has her immunity.” Summer said. 

“Given that and Natalie’s disqualification, an exception has been made. Congratulations Heather, the judges ruled you may move on to your individual challenge. Good Luck.” Diggins said. 

As we were leaving I walked out with Heather. 

“Holy fucking shit. This is amazing.” I said to her. 

“I’m so nervous.” She said. 

“Heather this is your chance to win. You have to do everything you can.” I said. 

“And I’m sorry about Nat. She’s a bitch.” I said which made her laugh a little. 

“Looks like it’s down to you and me for joust.” Ray shouted, and I rolled my eyes. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” I said to her as I walked away and headed home.

Later once I was home the doorbell rang and I went downstairs to get it.

“Dodge.” I said as I opened the door. 

“What can I do for you?” I asked. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. 

“Sure.” I said. 

“I’m sorry about before. I’m sorry we argued.” He said. 

“It’s fine. Honestly don’t worry about it.” I said. 

“I’m sorry Natalie screwed you over. I could’ve warned you on that part.” I said. 

“Look I know you’re all set on trying to help Cortez take down Luke Hall but I think you’re exhausting your efforts.” I said. 

“I didn’t come to talk about that.” He said as he walked closer to me as I leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

“Looking back on it, we never really had an alliance did we?” I asked. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“You were always working with Natalie. Trying to get ahead, but I didn’t know. So we never really had an alliance because I couldn’t really trust you even if I didn’t know it.” I said. 

“Did you ever really like me? Or was it a ploy?” I asked. 

“Reese I never would have planned out to get close to you and sleep with you to get an advantage over you in Panic.” He said, sounding a bit hurt that I would suggest that. 

“You suggested it at one point.” I said. 

“I didn’t mean it.” He said.

“I know.” I said. 

“You know, I really did like you Dodge. A lot.” I said.

“Did? As in you don’t anymore.” He said, twisting his lips to the side. 

“So much has happened in so little time, this summer has been crazy but the one thing i’ve managed to keep constant is you.” I said. 

“So no Dodge I didn’t sleep with you because of our alliance, I didn’t just magically erase the feelings I have for you, but things are crazy and if we aren’t on the same page. We cannot do this.” I said. 

“How do we get on the same page Reese? I’m trying.” He said. 

“Cortez is dirty. Plain and simple, you cannot trust him.” I said. 

“I’ll keep my eye out I promise.” He said. 

“And from now on, I’ll tell you everything going on, no more secrets.” He said. 

“Good.” I said, I then leaned in and kissed him, running my hand to the back of his neck. His hand snaked around my waist as he pulled me into him. I broke the kiss only a moment to speak. 

“My brother is home just so you know to keep the volume down to a minimum.” I said, lacing my fingers with his I lead him upstairs and into my room. 

I slipped on my shirt and pants as Dodge put his on. 

“You know Joust is like a big thing in Panic.” I said, sitting back down on the bed and facing him.

“I know.” He said. 

“I’m worried.” I said.

“I am too.” He stated, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll meet up with you later okay?” He asked. 

“Okay.” I said with a smile and he leaned down to kiss me before heading out the door and downstairs to leave. 

After a little while, I heard arguing through the floor and I went out to see what was going on. 

“Do you know how dangerous this is Rhett? You could be killed, you could get your sister killed for god’s sake.” I heard my dad shout.

“Dad?” I asked as I made my way downstairs.

“Reese, why didn’t you tell me about any of this? This is crazy you know better, you both know better.” He snapped.

“Dad I can explain.” I said softly.

“So you do know how bad this is.” He said.

“George.” My mom said.

“No Lemon, you were right in your motion to try and send her off to boarding school. It would have been for her own good, because now she decided to help her dumb ass of a brother get out of situation he ain’t ever shoulda been in to begin with.” He yelled.

“Daddy it’s not as bad as you think.” I tried to reason.

“I always told you that Hall boy was no good for you darlin’“ He said.

“I’m takin this to the cops.” He said.

“No dad you can’t.” I said as I ran to the door. 

“Why Reese.” He asked.

“There is so much that you don’t know okay, but you can’t trust them.” I said.

“At least not Cortez.” I added.

“You’re not makin any sense honey.” My mom said.

“Cortez is dirty okay. He is caught up in bets that are bein made on Panic. I don’t know if he is in on them but if he is it means he’s got his eyes glued on me and everyone else in this stupid game so we cannot trust him. He is trying to take Luke Hall out, and if we aren’t careful he is going to find out what happened and we are all gonna go sinking down with that ship.” I said.

“You’re going to tell us everything.” He said.

[tcwmatchmakingau]

One Call Away - Pt. 1

Summary: Thorn wants Fox to find love, and he’s counting on Daria to make it happen. An unstoppable force is about to meet an immovable object.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Daria Trace (OC)

Rating: G (later chapters will get spicy 👀)

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2886

Written to: The Archer by Taylor Swift

Massive shoutout to @deejadabbles not only for taking the first/last look but also encouraging me so much. Wouldn’t have made it without her 🥰

Matchmaking for the clones was nothing like matchmaking for the smarmy elites of Coruscant. The most noticeable difference was the way they showed their gratitude after a successful match. Daria had received expensive bottles of whiskey, opera tickets and even furs from clients. The gifts were accompanied by generic messages clearly written by their aides, and while Daria wouldn’t say no to good whiskey or a fun night at the theatre, the gifts were perfunctory in nature.

The clones, however, showed their appreciation with their hearts. Daria had received flowers clearly stolen from someone’s greenhouse that perfectly matched her lavender hair, gift cards for iced coffee, all manner of fidgets to keep her occupied, and her favorite, new photos of them with their new partners.

Commander Thorn in particular was immensely grateful for his new girlfriend, but when he’d come by bearing a gift he’d also had a request.

“I’m always happy to see you Thorn, but I’m curious as to why you have a knife in my office,” Daria said, eyeing the blade Thorn was twirling around.

“You like to keep your hands busy, right? So you can learn to spin this, and eventually how to throw it,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “Your hands will never be bored again.”

“A bold claim,” she said, following the knife’s movements. There was something alluring about such a dangerous plaything in motion, and she found her fingers twitching in anticipation. “Ok, I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl!” He brought the knife to an abrupt stop offering it to her handle first.

Daria took the knife and began slowly moving it through her fingers. Thorn watched her work out the best way, as her hand was much smaller than his, and bare. After one minute, the knife was flipping through her fingers quickly and smoothly.

“Kriff, this is really fun,” she confessed quietly. She couldn’t play with it around other people, unless she was hoping to intimidate them, but when she was alone it would definitely be in heavy rotation amongst her other toys. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, and now for the part where I beg for assistance.”

Daria stopped the knife, placing it on her desk with a decisive click.

“She does not wish to receive heart-shaped jewelry, so go back to the drawing board on that one,” Daria said after a moment of scrutiny.

“Wha-, how did you-?” Thorn stammered. Daria’s uncanny ability to snatch up threads of thought still left him speechless every time. But he was a man on a mission, and recovered quickly. “Consider the jewelry scrapped. I need to bring someone to you. He needs your help.”

Daria’s dark brown eyes lit up instantly. A smile played around her full lips, as she grabbed her datapad.

“You’ve got my attention,” she said with a raised brow.

“Excellent. It’s my ori’vod, Fox,” Thorn said, his face growing serious.

“Marshal Commander ‘Fall in line or fuck off’ Fox?” Daria asked.

Thorn nodded, “That’s the one. He practically lives in his office still, and he needs someone to get him out. Someone that makes him want to take his days off. Someone who he can’t intimidate. Who won’t take his shit.”

“You want me to find someone who’s not intimidated by the most intimidating authority figure on the planet? Possibly in the quadrant?”

“You’re Daria Trace. You found someone that made Wolffe smile. Not a ‘last thing you see before you die’ smile, but an ‘I’m so in love’ smile,” Thorn said, his bright eyes soft and hopeful.

“While everything you just said is true,” Daria conceded. “Commander Wolffe wanted my help. I feel like Commander Fox will toss me in a holding cell, if I so much as suggest he needs my assistance finding a date.”

“But he does,” Thorn insisted. “Just meet him. If he’s hopeless, he’s hopeless. If he’s not, promise me you’ll find someone for him.”

Daria adored the clones, but the way they wielded those big brown eyes was brutal. It was nearly impossible to deny them anything in one’s power.

“Bring him in,” she said finally, caving to Thorn’s masterful tooka eyes.

“Wizard! I knew you’d be up for it,” He cheered. “This means the world to me, Daria. He deserves to live his life.”

“You all do,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll do all I can. Now put on your helmet and get out of my office.”

Thorn shot her a winning smile, and left with a pep in his step. The door had barely closed behind him before Daria was researching Fox on the holonet while she twirled her new vibroblade.

***

Fox never thought he would miss the rules that led all of his vode to keep their relationships under wraps, but then Right to Love set up shop. He now had a battalion of love struck shock troopers, who couldn’t stop going on and on about their new partners, and their matchmakers.

Everywhere he went it was:

“Tarsi changed my life.”

“I owe Yen everything.”

“Daria is a miracle worker.”

Daria Fucking Trace. She was Thorn’s favorite, and he’d been bugging Fox to come and meet her ever since his first date with his now girlfriend. Every three to five business days, he’d be back at it again. Fox loved seeing his brothers happy, and thriving. Especially Thorn, even though he was testing Fox’s patience.

Fox had made the mistake of saying Thorn’s lunch looked tasty, and he’d eagerly explained his girlfriend made it for him, and Fox could have homemade lunches with love notes too, if he would just meet Daria.

“Look, Fox, I know you’re very attached to your nocturnal, work is my life persona, but we’re free men now,” Thorn said before biting into his lunch, humming with joy at the taste. “We deserve to be happy. Especially you, vod.”

“Free or not, we still have a job to do. One of us has to stay focused, so the rest can go off with pretty nat borns,” Fox countered, sipping on an iced caf.

“You should be out with pretty nat borns too. Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m just too busy for a relationship. Someone has to keep this place in order. As Marshal Commander,” Fox began.

“As Marshal Commander,” Thorn mocked with an exaggerated voice. “Just go with me to meet her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll kriff off. But if she can find you a nice young woman or man to get the stick out of your ass…”

“Will you leave me the kriff alone if I say yes?” Fox demanded.

“Yes! For a time.”

“And I won’t have to hear about Daria Trace for the next 30 rotations minimum?”

“Sure thing…but you’ll go?” Thorn looked so excited, even Fox felt himself melting a little. His soft spot for Thorn would never harden it seemed.

“Fine. Set it up.”

“YES!” Thorn cheered before taking a victorious bite of his lunch, grinning as he chewed.

***

Daria waltzed to the lobby promptly at 1259 hours, and found Blizzard obsessively straightening his desk.

“What are you doing, Blizz?” She asked with barely concealed amusement.

“The Commander Fox is coming here. I just want everything to be perfect.” He leaned closer and offered in a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s so kriffing cool. Total badass. I’m equally terrified and in awe.”

“Is that so?” Daria asked with a grin.

Blizzard nodded, and opened his mouth to say more, but at 1300 hours on the dot the door was opening to admit Commander Thorn with Commander Fox in tow.

Thorn always brought wonderful energy into any space, and Daria found his presence comforting if a bit wild.

Fox’s energy was an entirely different story. Contained, but utterly commanding with the fiercest protective intent. She couldn’t focus on anything else no matter how she tried, but the part that surprised her was the blissful feeling of being utterly secure. Safe. Relaxed.

Her constant desire to fidget was quelled. Her fingers rested in her pockets. Her weight held in place rather than shifting. Her heart was steady, calm.

Is this what other people feel like all of the time? Daria thought, offering a dazzling smile to the pair of commanders.

Thorn, never being one for ceremony, scooped Daria up into a bear hug, squishing her against his armored chest until she wheezed in protest.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she coughed out, as he placed her back on her feet.

“I forget how tiny and soft you are,” Thorn said as though he was amused.

“Scientists and therapists under 5’7” aren’t known for breeding kids of the blaster-toting, knife-gifting variety,” Daria said, lifting one expertly arched brow.

“It’s ok, Daria, we can’t all be perfect,” Thorn said, pulling his helmet off, and shaking his curls free. “This is Commander Fox. Fox, this is Daria Trace. The miracle matchmaker.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people about me?” Daria asked, her face warming up instantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure my exploits were greatly exaggerated. Especially coming from my dear little brother,” Fox said, his tone bored, and drier than Tatooine.

Oh this will be fun. Daria thought.

“Well, I’ll let you do your thing, and find Fox a wife or a husband. He’s not picky,” Thorn said with a smirk. “He can’t be with that face.”

The modulator did nothing to hide the sigh of sheer exhaustion from Fox.

“You have the same…clone humor. I should have expected nothing less from you,” Daria said with a soft laugh.

“Don’t indulge him,” Fox said tilting his head at her disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Follow me,” Daria said, with a laugh.

Fox followed the matchmaker down the hall. Everything about her said she’d never followed a rule in her life. From her mismatched earrings to the way she walked like there was music playing only she could hear. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the way her rich voice wrapped around the word Commander like the concept of authority amused her. It was completely unsurprising that Thorn was fond of her.

Reaching her office, Fox scanned the room quickly. A wall devoted to her successful matches no doubt, as he saw several of his brothers’ faces, including Thorn and Wolffe. There were a number of small toys scattered across Daria’s desk. Fox counted 10. Some brightly colored, some durasteel, and before she could stash it in a drawer…

“Is that a vibroblade?” he asked, folding his arms, as he took a seat at her desk.

“Gift from Thorn,” she said, closing the drawer where she kept the weapon turned fidget toy.

“Don’t cut yourself with it,” Fox said. “It’ll be a mountain of paperwork when you have to explain to a doctor how a matchmaker got stabbed with a vibroblade.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Commander,” Daria said, whipping the knife out of the drawer and spinning it quickly through her fingers while keeping her eyes on his visor.

“How long have you been practicing that?”

“Every free moment for 3 rotations,” she confessed.

Fox shook his head. That tracked.

“You didn’t come all the way here to discuss my knife skills. You need a date.”

“I’m only doing this to get Thorn off of my ass,” Fox said, folding his arms, and sitting back in the chair across from Daria.

“Ah so you’d like to hang out in my office, kill an hour, and then go back and pretend I’m a fake?” Daria asked, with a raised brow.

“Something like that.”

Daria laughed, and Fox noted the sound was pleasant, infectious. “Nope. My professional reputation is as sparkling as your service record, Commander.”

“Please. This is guess work at best,” He argued.

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“How?” He asked.

“Talk to me.”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

Daria released a sigh, and fixed him with a look. “I mean about something real like why Thorn is so invested in your love life.”

“Because he’s a nosy little brother. As an only child, you wouldn’t know about that,” He said, relaxing his arms, as he made himself comfortable. He was disappointed when his revelation was met with a satisfied little grin instead of surprise.

“I hope you found something more interesting than that in my background check,” She said, placing her elbows on the desk, and resting her chin on her crossed fingers.

“Perhaps. I’d never show all of my cards right away, Trace,” He said with a light shrug. “And neither would you.”

You wanna play hardball, let’s play. She thought.

“Ok, you think I'm a fraud; I think you’re afraid.”

The lightest shift in energy in the room told Daria she’d struck a nerve.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, keeping his voice professional and even.

“A very long list of things that I couldn’t get through with 2 full rotations devoted to you, so let’s split my lunch, Thorn’ll think we did the whole thing, and you can go back to pretending you’re happy.” Reaching into her bottom desk drawer, Daria pulled out her lunch, and set about portioning out half for Fox.

“Here,” She said, passing him half of her pasta, and half of a large pastry.

He’d been on the verge of declining and walking out, but he was absolutely starving, and it looked so delicious. Especially the pastry. His sweet tooth wouldn’t let him say no. He accepted the food, and watched as Daria got comfortable in her chair, one leg tucked beneath her, as she started eating.

There was a light hiss, as Fox unsealed and removed his helmet. He was acutely aware of the matchmaker’s gaze, as she took in his features. He could hear her mentally noting the differences between him and his brothers. The scar on his nose, his curls held back by a red headband, the dark circles under his eyes.

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, and resisted humming in pleasure. Of course it’s delicious. Perfect. He thought, annoyed.

“Good?” She asked, swallowing her current bite, and looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” He confessed. “I don’t really make time to cook.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did.”

They continued to eat in a surprisingly companionable silence until Fox bit into the pastry. Fuck, ok. He thought.

“I’m not pretending I’m happy,” he blurted out before taking another bite of the fluffy treat.

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Commander.”

“I’m not lying,” He shot back, brow furrowed.

“You were bred for war, told you’d see the stars, and got stuck in this corrupt skughole,” Daria said, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Your life is your own now, but you insist on clinging to what you know because it’s safe, simple, comforting.”

“You don’t have a sense of duty, clearly,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, I do. I just also believe that my life is mine, and feeling fulfilled is important. That can look different for different people,” she replied. “Do you feel fulfilled?”

He stared down at his food for a moment. “You’re irritating, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

After another long moment, Fox confessed, “Maybe coming home to someone wouldn’t be terrible, but they’d have to understand the job comes first. My hours aren’t normal, and I don’t dance.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Daria said, scooping up her datapad and making some notes while she munched on half of the pastry. “Do you like animals?”

“No.”

“This is going to take forever, if you keep lying to me,” she said without missing a beat as she marked yes.

“How do you do that? It’s exhausting,” Fox snapped, shoving the last bite of pastry into his mouth.

“It’s always been like that,” Daria looked up then, and fixed him in her gaze. “You have a sweet tooth. It’s bad.”

“So find me a baker.”

“It’s not that easy.”

After another hour of getting raked over the coals by the matchmaker, Daria escorted Fox back to the lobby.

“I’ll call you,” she said with a mysterious little smile. “Bye, Thorn.”

“Bye, Daria. Thank you,” Thorn called as she made her way back down the hallway.

Fox watched her go before slipping out of the front door and taking a deep breath once it had closed behind him.

“She’s amazing, right?” Thorn asked, joining him.

Fox pulled on his helmet. “She’s as obnoxious as you without the shared DNA to make it tolerable.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Thorn said, as he donned his own helmet. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“I already ate. Go take your girlfriend to a food stand, and I’ll see you in a little while,” Fox ordered.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thorn replied, taking off towards the train.

Alone with his thoughts, Fox wandered back towards the barracks.

Daria Fucking Trace was an absolute menace. There was no doubt about it.

***

No less than 15 minutes after Fox’s departure, Daria was twirling her blade, and flipping through profiles. No one currently in the system would suit the salty Commander, but she was determined to find someone who could make that man smile. He might have been hard on the outside, but those soft insides deserved someone who would cherish him.

[gravehags]

son of perdition - the natalie edit

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!OC (Curator!OC)

Rating: Teen

Tags: tw descriptions of vomiting, copia being a care giver, confessions and revelations, antichrist copia, series lore

Words: 1,719

Summary: And Hell followed with him.

a/n: i just think natalie would make a nice queen of hell, that's all

~~~

Natalie doesn’t even last twenty-four hours with the secret Sister Imperator has burdened her with before it comes crawling back out of her gut at 3 am.

She’s already gagging when she throws the covers back and stumbles into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. It takes four heaves to empty her stomach until it spasms inside her and comes to a stop as she cries and drools and spits pathetically, hunched over the bowl. She doesn’t even hear Copia get up, let alone hear him come into the bathroom and lean over her to flush the toilet and push her hair back.

“Poverina,” he murmurs, gently easing her backwards to slump against the cool tile wall. She’s still looking at the toilet warily as he grabs a rag from the counter and wets it, bringing it to her mouth. When she finally looks at him - the way his brow is furrowed as he kneels in front of her cleaning her up - another loud sob is wrenched from her.

“Natalia mia, what is it? What’s wrong? You were acting so strange all day before we went to bed. I know you, dolcezza, this is no stomach bug,” he says, dropping the rag as tears continue to pour down her face and he gently holds her chin, “What happened?”

None of what I’m about to tell you can leave this office.

Natalie looks at the worried face of the man she loves.

He would tell you.

“C-Copia,” her voice is hoarse, “We need to talk.”

Copia looks at her tearful face and to the toilet and his eyes get wide.

“Amore, you’re not…”

“No!” she blurts out, “But…that’s part of it. Eugh…let me brush my teeth and we’ll get back in bed. I’ll explain everything, I promise. I promise, my love.”

He nods and reaches his hands out to haul her off the bathroom floor and gives her one last curious glance before shuffling back into the bedroom. Once she’s completed her task and gives herself a long, hard look in the mirror she shuts the light off and walks back to bed. Copia is sitting up with the covers pooled around his waist and Natalie’s eyes flick to the tattoo on his pectoral as lead settles in her empty stomach. When she crawls in beside him he gently takes her hands in his and she takes a deep breath.

“I…I don’t even know where to start.”

“Tell me everything from the moment you left my office yesterday, amore mio.”

“Right. Right. I uh. I got an email yesterday morning from Sister Imperator saying she wanted me to come to her office to talk. I thought I was, y’know, getting fired or something. It wasn’t that though. She told me…ugh,” she squeezes her eyes shut and reopens them with another deep breath, “She told me that I was…chosen. By Satan.”

“For…for what?”

“To…ugh this is so fucked up…to carry your child. She said that's why she hired me.”

The look of abject horror and fury on Copia’s face would make her physically recoil if he weren’t gripping her hands so tightly.

“She said what?” he breathes, and she swears his white eye flashes in the dim light of the bedroom. “Why the fuck…how could she say…unless...”

A self-deprecating little smirk slowly twists his lips and he exhales angrily through his nose.

“Copia she said–”

“--that I’m the Antichrist, sì?”

Natalie’s floored. Sister Imperator had acted like this was an enormous secret that Copia was not aware of.

“Y-yeah. Yeah that’s what she said, Copia how–”

He gives her a sad smile.

“I told you I was always treated differently as a child, huh? People either treated me with kid gloves or complete derision. I’m not an idiot, I figured it out young. These, eh,” he raises his hands and displays the distinct scars on them, “were kind of a giveaway. It should be a great honor to know that the Unholy Father is…your father but all it ever did was give me grief. Eh, I suppose it beats Nihil refusing to accept that I’m his kid. Sathanas has at least been there for me - perhaps not physically but spiritually.”

“I was going to ask,” she starts quietly, “I mean…you call the papas your brothers and for the longest time I just thought that was because you’ve known each other for so long but…the eyes…”

“You don’t know how the other kids at the abbey would torment me - knowing I was an Emeritus son but never being acknowledged by Nihil. Being hated by Nihil. Nothing’s fucking changed, I guess,” Copia mutters, “Nihil must have roped my mother into some ritual where he was possessed. Sathanas, what I wouldn’t give to have known her. It’s been a long, lonely life, amore. I just wanted someone to love me. Five decades on this earth of nothing but dalliances and heartache and then came…you.”

Copia looks at her with such tenderness she nearly starts crying again. The truth about his mother is ready to leap from her tongue when he speaks again.

“You never saw me as, as a tool, or an inconvenience, or, or anything special–”

Natalie’s horrorstruck.

“My love, you are more special to me than I can possibly put into words–”

“Yes, but as you said - special to you. Important to you. Not important to the faith, or important to some agenda being kept from me by the Ministry elders, eh? That was part of the gift of you being from the outside. I had a clean slate.”

“Even though apparently I was destined to be with you all along,” she says, brow furrowing, “Makes you wonder if…”

“Don’t think that,” Copia says quickly, quietly, and deadly serious as he grips her hands once more, “Natalia, the most important tenet of my religion is that of free will. Nobody made you accept this job or made us fall in love. Per favore, don’t ever question that. The powers of the Olde One are great but he cannot manufacture emotion where there is none. I swear to you, amata mia.”

She nods, tears once again filling her eyes. Copia raises her hands to his mouth and kisses them.

“Anima mia,” he says, voice cracking, “Tell me…be honest. Does this news change how you feel about me?”

“Never,” Natalie breathes, without a second thought, “Copia, nothing could change how I feel. I…I’ll be the first to admit I don’t fully understand it - not yet - but my love, you could bring about the end of days and I’ll walk into hell with you, hand in hand. I’d do anything for you, but…”

“What, what is it?” his shoulders tense and his grip on her hands tightens.

“Copia I don’t want a baby. Ever.”

His posture sags, clearly showing his relief.

“And amore I do not want anything that you do not want. Fuck the horrific reason Imperator said you were hired. And if putting your foot down was not enough for her then let her try to tell us both how she’s going to force a pregnancy on you, huh? How dare she. How dare she. Free will. Control over our own bodies. How could she twist His message like this? Not on my fucking watch.”

Natalie gives him a small smile, relief flooding her veins before she pauses. She’s revealed almost all to him but one thing still lingers. Part of her tells her to hold off, to wait until a time when they’re both less exhausted. Before she can second-guess herself though, she speaks.

“Copia, there’s something else. About Sister Imperator.”

“What’s that then?”

Natalie hesitates, wondering if it’s wise to divulge all the secrets she shared with her. She knows it’s a matter of when, not if, Imperator will make her pay. When she looks into his anxious gaze, her heart clenches. He deserves the truth. Damn the consequences.

“She’s…your mother, my love. I’m so sorry.”

He goes quiet, looking down to where her fingers are entwined with his. It takes a minute before he speaks again.

“I think part of me always knew,” he murmurs, “She’s always been there, every step of the way. I just don’t understand why it had to be kept from me. Why she couldn’t…why she couldn’t love me outright. Like a mother should, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie says, “It’s…it’s clear she cares about you deeply but I can’t speak to her motivations. She’s a complex woman.”

He snorts softly, a small smile on his face.

“That’s putting it lightly. Well that’s a conversation for another time, my brain can’t process anymore bullshit right now. Eh, what a night. Didn’t think when I was listening to you puke that this is where things would end up.”

Her stomach does another somersault.

“Ugh don’t remind me. But Copia,” she reaches up to cup his cheek and he leans into her touch, “Thank you. And I love you. For everything you are and everything you’ve done. Eternally.”

There’s no mistaking the glisten of tears in his eyes this time as he leans in to softly kiss her. When he gently pulls away he rests his forehead against hers.

“We’re taking tomorrow off,” Copia murmurs, “And we’re getting out of the abbey. I’ll text Imperator in the morning to tell her, and if she has a problem I’ll just say that if she doesn’t fuck off I won’t, em—’deceive people with signs and wonders, or sit in the temple of God and claim to be God himself’, eh?”

The laugh that comes out of Natalie is hoarse and tired but genuine.

“Blackmail feels very Antichrist-y of you, my love.”

“See, I’m already great at this. Fear the trembler of nations,” Copia growls, dragging her down onto the bed on top of him. Laughing, she props her chin up on his sternum.

“Kingdoms to fall one by one?”

He nods, smoothing her dark hair back.

“Exactly, amore. But first eh, let’s get some sleep.”

“Anything you say, Your Eminence.”

“Oh no, dolcezza mia. Not mine. All yours.”

Natalie yawns and curls into his side.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Copia leans over and turns off the lamp, sighing heavily.

“Buonanotte, amore.”

She dreams of hellfire.

She sleeps more soundly than she has in a long, long time.

[itsbeeble]

Merry Bad Ending

Summary: He'd been sent to protect you, to guide you, and keep you on the path the fates had set for you. He knew he couldn't get involved with you, it went against everything he was taught. But he can't help it, can't help but love you no matter the consequences.

Genre: Angst, fluff, Guardian Angel!au, Soulmate!au

Pairing: Lee Hyunjae x fem!reader (feat. oc, Eric, Sunwoo, Sangyeon, and I think that's it)

WC: 8.5k (I'm sorry)

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: mentions of religion (mainly Christianity); hurt and kinda comfort; age gap (I'm sorry. Reader will be 24 and Hyunjae will appear 25 but is actually a couple thousand years old); major character death; illness; honestly there isn’t a ton of romance it’s just kinda sad (there will still be some); mentions of death; violence; minor injuries; threats of death (Hyunjae gets violent); illness (LOTS OF IT); alcohol mentions and consumption; Idk let me know if I missed something; brief mentions of kind of bad home life; rude friends; swearing; MINORS DNI 18+

Listen to Merry Bad Ending by The Boyz if you want idk

A/N: yall i'm sorry this took so long and I'm sorry if it isn't my best work. I didn't really wanna do anything too romantic for this one, so there's no spice this time bjghsugs. I hope you enjoy it either way!

~

Hyunjae remembered when he was first assigned to you. You were both young—  at least, you were. You’d been seven at the time, young, curious, and ready to learn about all the cruel things the world could throw at you. He’d appeared to you in the form of a 25-year-old man. Tall, fluffy brown hair, and a pretty face. He looked so young, and he enjoyed the attention that was drawn to him. He enjoyed seeing the human population watch this young man walk by in black clothes, soaked by the rain as if he hadn’t a care in the world. They weren’t aware of who he was. They didn’t know that he couldn’t feel the cold, couldn’t get sick from the rain that was slowly falling from the clouds above them. It always rained when a Guardian began their assignment. Some religions take the rain as a sign that God is angry with them, but only a few know the truth. 

This storm is a goodbye, as the angels will not see their Father or their brethren for a long time. Not until their assignment is fulfilled. Nobody knows where they will be until they are finished. No one except for their Father. Hyunjae hadn’t seen his brother, Sangyeon, in over 600 years. He has no idea where he is, and no idea if he is alive. All he knows is that he is assigned to a bloodline and that he has to care for them all until there is no one left. That can take anywhere from 100 to 1,000 years. 

A crack of thunder overhead. 

Children run to their yelling parents as rain begins to pour down. 

He walks slowly, watching you in your little violet jacket and black rain boots. You sit on the mulch, playing with trucks and ignoring the way your little body is shaking from the cold. Hyunjae sniffs, pushing his sopping wet hair behind his ear as he opens the umbrella in his hand and holds it over you. You don’t notice at first, so focused on that old, yellow toy truck that was covered in stains and rain and all sorts of things that would have your parents yelling for you to put the toy down and play on the swings. 

Parents. That’s right. Your parents. They should be here with you, why aren’t they here with you?

“Who are you?” You’re looking at him now, big eyes full of curiosity and caution. Good. Your parents at least taught you not to trust strangers you meet on the street. 

Hyunjae takes a moment to think. Should he introduce himself yet? Should he tell you his human name or the name his Father gave him?

“My name is Hyunjae,” he flashes a smile at you. Angelic, stunning, everything an angel should be. Your mouth parts in awe. That dopey little lip part that children get when they’re stunned by something. “What are you doing out here all on your own, little bug?”

“I’m waiting for my mommy. She said she would be here soon!” You smile brightly and continue playing with the truck. Hyunjae frowns. 

“When was that?” You shrug.

“I dunno. Before school.”

“And…when was school?” You scowl at him.

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Mister Hyunjae.” Your lack of trust is amusing. Hyunjae crouches down, making sure that the umbrella stays over your head.

“You don’t ask enough, little bug.”

“Why are you calling me a bug?” You turn towards him finally, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly on your lap. “Bugs are gross, Mister.” He laughs and you crack a smile. 

“Bugs aren’t gross, silly.” He lifts his arms, his hand palm-side down. When he flips his hand over, there’s a butterfly on his fingers, fluttering its wings and waiting to fly. “At least, not all of them. This butterfly is fairly beautiful, don’t you think?” 

Your eyes are wide with amazement, and he watches you try to do what he did. 

“How did you do that!?” You cry. “That’s so cool!”

“Maybe one day I’ll teach you, little bug.” He pats your head, and you beam at him. The butterfly drifts from his finger, and Hyunjae shifts so you can’t see the small, beautiful creature struggle to reach the large oak tree behind you. 

~

You’re nine now. Two years, and yet somehow he’s never seen your parents. He’s watched every day as you leave your house and trudge down the busy sidewalk to get to your school two miles away. He walks where no one can see him except you, and he watches you look at him out of the corner of your eyes. Hyunjae sees the curiosity and the annoyance whenever you see him, and it couldn’t make him more amused. 

“Why are you always following me?” You ask him one day. He’s standing beside you while you swing, giving you a little push here and there. People can see him now, and the mothers are cooing about what a nice young man, playing with his niece. He rolls his eyes at them. 

“I’m not following you. You just happen to be going everywhere I need to be.”

“Are you sure? And why haven’t you changed at all?” You ask him. He just smiles. “And also, why couldn’t anybody see you when we were at school? I was talking to you and Eric and he thought I was crazy for some reason.” You stop your swing and kick the dirt with a pout. Hyunjae crouches beside you and puts his finger under your chin to lift your head. There are tears in your eyes, and he frowns at that.

“Why are you crying, little bug?” You don’t speak at first, your lip trembling and your eyes shining. Hyunjae lifts his hand, and when he flips it over there’s a butterfly. A monarch, just like the last time. He holds his hand out for you to hold the small insect, but you just start sobbing. The butterfly, now startled, flutters off toward the road. He watches as a car zips by the poor creature, and he doesn’t see it fly away. When he looks back at you, you’re trying to wipe your tears. 

They don’t stop, and he wraps a hand around your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug that you find yourself returning. He feels you shaking against him, feels the tears starting to soak into his crisp black button-down shirt.

“Y/N,” he says your name in a quiet yet stern voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” You sniffle against his chest and he sighs.

“I don’t wanna die like mommy.” His body goes rigid and you pull away from him. 

“What did you say?” He breathes out. 

“I don’t wa-wanna d-die like m-mommy.” You hiccup and Hyunjae’s eyes become dark with an emotion you haven’t seen before, and he can only pray to his Father that you never have to. 

“You aren’t going to, little bug.” He promises. “Not if I can help it.”

~

That night he speaks to his Father. He finds himself alone in the park, sitting on the same swing you had when you spoke to him. 

I don’t wanna die like mommy. 

You’d been so afraid when you said that, and he couldn’t help the twinge in his heart. Sometimes it was hard to be a Guardian. You weren’t allowed to stop the fate of your assignment. You weren’t allowed to change details. You could only sit and watch and turn your eyes away when things got bad. Most angels turned their emotions off like a switch, only acting as if they cared for their assignments until it was done. 

Hyunjae couldn’t do that. He had promised Sangyeon that, no matter the cost, he wouldn’t turn them off. He intended to keep that promise. 

“You asked to see me.” 

A voice around him. Not in front, or behind, or on either side. It surrounds him as if it was the water in a lake he’d submerged himself in. He flinches at the sound but doesn’t raise his eyes.

“It’s good to see you, Father.” No response, so Hyunjae continues. “Why didn’t you tell me anything about my assignment?”

“You knew everything you needed to know about the girl. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s only a child, and she’s terrified of dying like her mother. How can that be what the fates have intended for her?” Hyunjae keeps his voice level, but his hands are beginning to shake with anger. 

“Are you questioning your abilities to continue this assignment?”

“No, Father.” Hyunjae shakes his head and sighs. “I’m just…I want to understand why you did this.” There’s a warm feeling across his shoulders, and he feels his body beginning to relax. There’s a comfort in his Father’s shadowy embrace, one that he cherishes no matter what he feels for Him. 

“You will understand when you are both ready. For now, proceed as you were. There is still time.” Hyunjae’s eyebrows knit together and he raises his head at last. The warm embrace has vanished, along with the overwhelming presence that had accompanied it. 

“The hell do you mean there’s still time?” He mutters, rising to his feet and taking a few steps forward. “Time for what?”

~

Hyunjae watches as you celebrate your sixteenth birthday with a few of your close friends. There’s a smile on your face while you cut the cake and open presents, but he can see something weighing on you. He can see the emotions rolling off of you in waves, even when you smile brightly at him. 

A storm rages outside your house, and Hyunjae can only imagine what is happening in the heavens above him.

“Are you two dating?” He hears one of your friends ask, but you vehemently deny it. You claim that he’s far too old for you, that he’s just a family friend that’s in town for a while. One of your friends side-eyes him and he raises an eyebrow. He does admit that, in his black attire, he does look mildly intimidating. He understands where she’s coming from and why she’d be suspicious of him. 

Hyunjae doesn’t acknowledge her otherwise, keeping his narrowed eyes on you for the rest of the night. As a Guardian, he should be able to gauge some idea of what you’re thinking and feeling. He should be able to gauge your health status, whether you’re sick or not. He senses nothing from you. 

He senses nothing and that’s terrifying.

“You okay, man?” Eric is beside him, gazing curiously at the older man that he’s almost positive hasn’t aged a day in seven years. He’s the same height, has the same broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, and his eyes haven’t formed the wrinkled lines many 30-something-year-olds have. He still has that smooth, unblemished skin that looks perfect always.

“I’m fine,” Hyunjae tilts his head to the side, gazing at the younger boy. He eyes the little acne scars on the young boy's face, the dried strands of his bleached hair, and the lankiness of his limbs. He knows the boy will grow into himself. He knows the fate of nearly everyone in this room, save for you. Guardians can’t know their assignment’s fate. They can only guide them down the path they deem correct. Everyone else, though? Their fates are open for practically everyone to see. 

Eric, for example, falls into a downward spiral when he’s twenty-five. Mental health is his downfall, and he never recovers. 

The girl that gave him a dirty look won’t make it past her second year of college. Poor child.

“What’s your skincare routine?” Eric blurts out suddenly, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. “I just— your skin is really smooth and I really just want to know what your routine is. I have a lot of, uh, blemishes?” The more Hyunjae looks at the young boy, the more nervous Eric seems to get. Hyunjae smiles at this, smiles knowing that he is, in fact, superior to the human race in more ways than deemed important. 

“Just basic cleansers, some moisturizer. Face mask here and there.” Eric nods quickly, foolheartedly believing the lie, and Hyunjae can practically see him making a list of things he needs. 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Eric claps Hyunjae on the shoulder, grimacing at the solid impact and the pain that shot up his wrist. “Maybe I should get your gym routine, too. Shit, you’re built like a goddamn brick wall.”

“You shouldn’t swear too much,” Hyunjae sniffs and kicks himself off the wall. “Never know who might be watching over you.”

~

When your friends leave, you finally allow yourself to sit, and Hyunjae watches as you put your head in your hand and just sit at the small dining room table. The small waves of emotion are becoming tsunamis, and though he can’t tell exactly what you’re feeling, he knows that you’re upset by something. He knows that there’s something wrong, something that he can’t figure out. 

“Little bug,” he sits down next to you, his large frame practically dwarfing yours. “Can I tell you a story?”

You look at him, your eyes heavy with emotion. You try to smile, but he can see how difficult it is and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“You heard of God, and of Adam and Eve, and Lucifer, and all of them. You’ve heard the Bible stories and learned of the angels that fought against the demons.” You nod and he proceeds. “Have you heard of the angels that stood alongside them? Not the ones that were deemed threats, or ones that everyone could see. Ones that protected them, and guided them along their fated paths.”

“What, guardian angels?” Your eyes are curious again and he smiles. “I mean, I’ve heard people talk about them but I’ve never seen them in Bible stories or anything like that.”

“That’s because they aren’t in the Bible,” Hyunjae explains. “God made it clear from the start that these Guardians weren’t to inform their…people of their existence. Guardians were to play alongside the children, befriend the adults, and take the form of whatever they found their people needed.”

“If they weren’t supposed to be common knowledge, why do you know so much about them?” You ask, and Hyunjae shrugs. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Such a curious little bug,” he nudges you and you crack a smile. A real, beautiful smile that warms every inch of his body. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that even if it doesn’t feel like it, there is somebody watching over you. Someone is here to protect you, keep you safe, and ensure that you’re happy, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I want you to know that maybe your guardian angel is closer than you think, lingering out of the corner of your eye. Just out of sight when you turn your head.” 

From his pocket, he pulls out a little box wrapped in violet paper. There’s a bow on the top, black and satiny. Your eyes widen when he places the box in your palm and squeezes your shoulder. 

“Open it.”

“You didn’t have to, Hyunjae…” He just shrugs. 

“No, I didn’t. But I did.” You smile and gently do your best not to rip the delicate wrapping paper while opening your gift. Despite your efforts, Hyunjae watches you wince at the small tear in the paper. 

“You don’t have to be so careful,” he tells you, “it’s just paper.” You shake your head.

“Purple is my favorite color, you should know this by now Jae.” He just sits back against the couch cushion and lets you open the jewelry box he’d gotten you. You look back at him with a confused pout and he just gestures for you to open it. 

A necklace. Thin silver chain, and a pendant attached. 

A butterfly made of delicately crafted wings. There are jewels attached to the butterfly, creating the wings and the eyes. 

“Diamonds?” Your eyes narrow and he feels his heart sink a bit. Did you hate it? “Jae, how did you afford this?”

“Call it a family heirloom,” he lies. “My mother’s.”

“Your mother had a brand new diamond necklace just hanging around the house, and you gave it to me instead of giving it to your girlfriend?” You turn fully toward him and scowl. “Lee Hyunjae you shouldn’t have gotten me a gift so expensive.”

“Why not?” He challenges.

“I’m not worth this much!” It’s his turn to scowl.

“You know that’s not true, little bug. You’re worth far more than you know.”

~

Hyunjae hovers over your shoulder, watching you bite at your nails while you write your essay.

“I still don’t understand why colleges make you write these things.” His fingers wrap around the back of your chair and you roll your neck. Your head brushes against his abdomen and you flinch away. 

“They want to know about us, what makes us good candidates. Now can you read this and make sure it sounds like a sob story?” He rolls his eyes when you push him into the chair and take his position. 

You’d written about your mom. About how she got sick when you were little, and about how your dad was basically never there. You wrote about how you would walk yourself to school every day, and walk yourself to the nearby park until your sick mother could get you. Often, you would be at the park until the sun went down and the street lights would come on. 

“This is sad,” Hyunjae takes a pause and your eyes shoot to him nervously.

“Good sad or bad sad?”

“Good. Let me finish reading.” You nod and he turns back to the computer screen. 

Halfway through the essay, he sees something familiar. 

You’d written about him. About how he helped you stay alive through those hard times. How he, this mysterious man that claimed to be a family friend, was the only consistent person in your life. How he helped you grow into the woman that he’d convinced you was real, and that you didn’t have to struggle through life on your own.

“You called me your guardian angel?” His lips twitch into a smile and you laugh nervously. 

“I— I just meant that— that you were always there for me, y’know?” You spit out quickly. “You kept me on the right path, even when I started going astray.” Hyunjae’s smile grows and he lifts himself out of the chair. 

“Little bug, I didn’t do anything. Every choice you made, every path you chose, that was you. I was just a bit of moral support,” he denies, even though he knows you’re right. Although, you don’t need to know that he’s literally your guardian angel. You don’t need to know that yes, he was guiding you through the motions. He kept your boat from capsizing from even the most dangerous waves. 

He can’t take all the credit for your success, even when it was due. 

Still, you squeeze his shoulder and place your chin on his shoulder while he reads. His hands are beginning to shake, and he isn’t quite sure why. 

“What do you think?” You ask, and he feels your breath brushing against his ear. His skin grows warm. 

“I think it’s very well done.” He starts to rise from the chair and you take a few steps back, sitting on the mattress of your bed. He crosses his arms, steeling his body so you can’t see the shaking of his hands, the sweat on his neck. “I think these colleges would be foolish to not accept you.”

“You think so?” You’re hopeful, and he smiles, walking toward you until he’s hardly a foot away from you.

“I know so, little bug.” Your body goes rigid when you feel his lips against your forehead. Your cheeks go ablaze, the heat spreading down your neck. It’s the first time he’d shown this kind of true affection toward you, and you aren’t quite sure what to do with it. 

He’s still smiling when he pulls back, laughing to himself when he sees your stunned expression.

“You keep working, I’ll go make some food.”

~

You were twenty-one when Hyunjae finally gave up on stopping you from going to parties. For years he’d forced you to stay home, to “not waste your time getting shit-faced with a bunch of nobodies who couldn’t give less of a shit about you”. He’d caught you a number of times when you tried to sneak out the window of your dorm room, sitting in the tree you were going to climb down in a flimsy skirt and some heels. He’d stopped you from sneaking out the main doors by waking your RA. Anything you could think of trying, he somehow already knew and was prepared to stop you.

“I’m just keeping you safe,” he’d say with a smirk and a shrug. “Besides, you won’t have to sneak out in a couple of years. Just hold off a little longer, focus on your studies, and hang out with your friends at a cafe or something.”

“What am I supposed to say when they ask me why I keep ditching them?” You stomp your foot, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. 

“Tell them your guardian angel said no.” You think he’s kidding, that he isn’t taking you seriously, and that he’s mocking you. He isn’t, and he wishes he could tell you that but he could be killed.

When he finally does let you go, he comes with you and Eric, playing along as your chauffeur and as a guest. You’re a bit too excited, and Eric has to calm you down before Hyunjae puts the car in park. He can see you looking at him out of the corner of your eye, eyeing him up and down. He’s smirking. It isn’t as if he’s dressed up, at least no more than he usually is. A white tee shirt, a leather jacket that’s been left unzipped, some black pants, and black boots. No change from his usual colors, just a bit more style to fit in more with the college kids. 

Nobody would question a 25-year-old at a college party. Half the men in the frat were nearing that age anyway, and Hyunjae’s lip curled in disgust when he saw one chatting up a freshman, just barely out of high school. 

He feels your arm looping through his, and his gaze turns back to you. You’re talking with Eric, and he sees your arm also looped through his. You want to keep them both close, at least for a while. Hyunjae’s eyes narrowed at the young boy. Since high school, he’s put on some muscle and cleaned up the acne he’d been so worried about. He’d have no problem finding someone to settle down with, and he knows the Guardian watching over Eric is pleased with this.

“…don’t you think, Jae?” You look up at him expectantly, your eyes glittering with excitement. You don’t know he has no idea what you said, and he doesn’t plan on you finding out so he smiles and nods.

“Sure thing, little bug.” 

The music is overwhelmingly loud. Not nearly the loudest party he’d had to attend, but nonetheless he hated every second he was in the disgusting house. You and Eric had peeled off in another direction, somewhere across the room and he was on the landing, leaning on the banister with a half-empty red cup in one of his hands. Every time he takes a sip from the plastic cup, he grimaces at the disgusting taste. Human alcohol had become more and more disgusting as the years dragged on. Every time he was dragged to an event, such as this one, he prayed to his father that the drinks wouldn’t get any worse. And, every time, his prayers went unanswered. 

“Hey,” a girl appears at his side and he doesn’t even spare her a glance. “What’s a handsome man like yourself doing at a party like this?” She’s too close for comfort, her clothing too revealing for his taste. He scoffs, ignoring her. She keeps talking. “You seem a bit too old to be going to lame frat parties. Shouldn’t you be at a bar or at a club?” Now he looks at her, his eyebrow raised. She smiles, her lips colored ruby red and her eyes flashing with mischief. 

“I go to the university.”

“My point still stands.” He sighs, returning to leaning over the banister. You’re talking with a man now, and he picks up bits of your conversation. 

My name’s Sunwoo.

Y/N.

What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing at a party like this?

Humans, similarly to their drinks, get less and less creative with time. Recycling the same useless tactics over and over again until someone is desperate enough to fall for it. 

Sunwoo twirls a piece of your hair around your finger, and Hyunjae’s teeth grind together at the way you swoon. Of course, you would be one to fall for the stupid comments and greetings. Of course.

“You seem awfully close to that girl.” Hyunjae rolls his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“You should be careful.” Her finger is trailing down his arm now. “You never know what sort of evil will catch up with the two of you.” His body goes rigid and his head snaps to the side. 

Her eyes are boring into his, red meeting gold. She’s still smiling, her hand still trailing up and down his arm. Hyunjae bites down on his tongue, rising to stand straight. 

“What are you doing here?” He hisses. The demon beside him just continues to smile. 

“I’m a warning. Someone sent me to warn you, Guardian.”

“Who sent you?” He yanks his arm out of her grasp, and she sighs. 

“I can’t tell you that, Guardian. But you should be careful. They’re watching, waiting. Soon enough, they will take one of you. They don’t care which.” The demon begins to back up, and Hyunjae follows. To anyone around, it may look like she’s seducing him. Bringing him to one of the bedrooms upstairs. 

“Why should I believe you?” 

“Your brother did.” She shrugs and Hyunjae’s breath hitches. “In fact, he sends his regards from his assignment. The man he was assigned to recently got married and his wife is now pregnant. You should be proud of them.”

“Why do you know Sangyeon?” 

“I told you, I’m just here to warn you.” 

She’s gone before he can respond, disappearing into the crowd and no matter how he strains his neck, he can’t spot her anymore. But he sees you. You’re alone now, and Sunwoo seems to have found a new interest in a pretty girl by the “bar”. He walks over to you, shoving through the crowd and ignoring those who snap at him. 

When your eyes lock on his, that warm feeling returns to his chest. All thoughts of the demon have disappeared, and now his mind is consumed by you. Protecting you, caring for you, being with you, having you. 

“Jae?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even with his superior hearing. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him. Your hand is wrapped around his jacket, holding tightly. “Is everything okay?” He isn’t sure what comes over him. Maybe it’s the thought of someone hurting you. The thought of losing you. Maybe he’s scared of failing his assignment. Maybe he’s scared of failing you. He isn’t sure, but whatever it is has him drawing to him, his hand tilting your head up. He can hear and feel your heart beginning to pound. Hyunjae feels your grip on his jacket tighten, feels you beginning to stand on your toes. 

You’re inches away from him, the two of you tucked into a darker corner of the party with not a soul watching the two of you. His hand is still loosely gripping your chin, the other holding your waist. Your skin is warm to the touch, almost too warm. He watches your eyes, the way they begin to flutter shut and the way you almost seem to lean into him. 

His lips brush against your forehead, and you flinch against his touch. He goes to pull back but you keep him close, holding him against you. The two of you don’t move for a while. You just stand in that corner, holding each other as if you’re afraid the other will let go too soon.

~

You were just barely starting your third year of college when it happened. Just barely starting to live when your life was ripped out of your hands. 

See, the thing about illnesses is that sometimes they take time. Sometimes they are slow acting, and you don’t see them until late in the victim’s life. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you don’t get symptoms at all and are able to pass away peacefully. Sometimes those slow-acting illnesses begin to show, but treatments work quickly and they’re able to be stopped. 

But sometimes, on certain occasions, that isn’t the case. Sometimes illness strikes out of nowhere, sinking its teeth into the nearest unsuspecting victim. It latches on, feating until there is nothing left but a shell of the person that once was. 

You were linked up to monitors, needles sticking in your arms, and a number of nurses and doctors standing around your bedside. 

Unconscious.

That’s how Hyunjae found you. You were unconscious, and your skin was pale. Your eyes were sunken in. A doctor tries to make him leave, but there was something in the Guardian’s eyes that had the older man stumbling over his words and averting his eyes. 

It was a look of unfathomable rage. Like he had more power inside him, and such contempt for the world that he could cause more damage than the wrath of God. 

Hyunjae walked forward, pushing past the nurses trying to protest. In the reflection of one of the monitors, he could see his eyes. They were gold. Not just little flecks, not a shade of yellow that televisions tried to excuse as gold, but pure, vibrant gold. The anger in them darkened them, but anyone who looked into this man’s eyes was struck with awe. With amazement, confusion, and horror when they, past the screaming voices in their mind that told them death was imminent, realized how much danger they were in.

“What happened to her?” The doctor behind Hyunjae stuttered over his words again, and Hyunjae turns around. When he spoke again, it was as if there were millions of voices speaking all at once, overwhelming the medical professionals. “What. Happened. To. Her.”

“We…we aren’t sure yet,” the doctor breathed out, lowering his gaze to the floor. “It— she was brought here by a young man. He said that she collapsed in the middle of a presentation. It could be nothing, we just want to make sure.”

“If it was nothing,” Hyunjae hissed out and there was a swell of triumph when he sees the fear in the doctor’s eyes, “she would not be here, would she?”

“N-No, sir, I suppose not.” The doctor whimpered. 

“Fix her.” The order was clear, and the doctor knew without saying that his next phrase was not a threat, but a promise. “Fix her, or I swear on thy God that I will kill each and every last one of you. I will kill you, and I will kill your families, and I will kill anyone that you have even passed on the street if that’s what it takes for you to comprehend the importance of this.”

“Calm yourself, Hyunjae.” A hand on his shoulder, and he feels something inside of him jolt. His heart, maybe. He can feel it beginning to pound, can feel his lungs empty of air. “We don’t need any accidents today.”

For a moment, he just stands there frozen. He doesn’t know if he should turn around. Doesn’t know if he should react positively or negatively. Hyunjae’s heart is pounding, and for that moment he stands frozen, the fear and the anger begin to kick in.

“Sangyeon,” Hyunjae breathes out. His brother is smiling when he turns around. He’s smiling, and healthy, and he’s alive. “You’re…you’re here? But— but how did you— how are you—”

The doctors have left the room, and he can hear them whispering amongst each other. They’re debating calling the police, or just leaving him be. Someone picks up a phone, and Sangyeon pulls Hyunjae to the side, ducking into an empty hospital room and shutting the door. 

“How are you here?” Hyunjae hisses, pushing his brother back against the wall. There’s pain in his voice. Fear, even. There’s no possible way that Sangyeon could have found him. Guardians can’t track each other. They have no way of finding each other when on assignments. 

“You have to know the truth.” Sangyeon doesn’t push his younger brother away, just lets himself be shoved against the wall with a strong hand digging into his chest. Something warm is beginning to burn against his skin, and he bites down on his tongue to numb the pain. “Someone had to tell you, and it wasn’t going to be our Father.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae pulls his hand away when smoke begins to rise from under his palm, tightening his hand into a fist to cool himself off. “What truth?”

“About this assignment. Didn’t she warn you?” The door behind them opens and closes, and Hyunjae whips around. His hands are glowing, radiating with heat that begins the catch on the fabric of the bed next to him. The woman— the demon he’d met just a year prior stands with her body leaning against the wall. She’s dressed in a nurse’s garb, his lips curled into that same smirk that he’d dreaded. 

“I tried, but your father must be a very convincing man.” Sangyeon smiles sadly, beckoning for her to join him. She tucks herself under his arm, practically wrapping her body around him. A lump is forming in Hyunjae’s throat, and his vision beginning to swim. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sangyeon frowns, taking a step toward his younger brother. Hyunjae takes a step back. “Why are you…brother, why are you with this creature?” The demon scoffs. 

“Creature? I would hardly call myself a creature, you stupid Guardian—”

“Hye-Ri,” Sangyeon interrupts, “that’s enough. Let me talk.” Hye-Ri’s lips purse and she takes a small step back. The older angel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jae, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Everything Father has told you up until now has been a lie.” Hyunjae bites his tongue, fighting the urge to argue with his brother. He might not believe Sangyeon, but he will not disrespect his brother. “He’s told you that this is just an assignment, that you need to guide her down the right path until she passes, is that correct?”

“Yes.” He keeps his response short and Sangyeon nods.

“He lied. This isn’t an assignment. This is a slaughter.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae asks. “A slaughter?”

“Her mother wasn’t supposed to die,” Hye-Ri informs him, and his eyes narrow on her. “Sangyeon here was the woman’s guardian. She was supposed to live a long, fruitful life, but your Father fed her a disease. An angelic disease.”

“The same one Y/N has now.” Sangyeon nods and Hyunjae exhales heavily. “You said this was a slaughter?”

“Y/N is…different from what you’re used to. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you can’t get a reading on her. That you can’t quite understand her like you can other people.” Hyunjae just nods, and Sangyeon continues. “That’s because she’s a Link.”

“A what?” 

“Think of Links as soulmates,” Hye-Ri explains. “Links basically latch onto an angel, guardian or not, and link them to the human realm. Not a very creative name, but it does the trick.”

“Stay on track, Hye-Ri.”

“Right,” the demon nods, “your Father isn’t sure where it started, or with whom, but he intends to wipe out any and all links he can find.”

“But…but why does he need to do that? I mean…it can’t be dangerous to have a— a soulmate, as you called them.” Hyunjae gnaws on his lip, folding his arms over his chest.

“Father has never truly loved the human race as he claimed he did,” Sangyeon says. “He despises how we, the Guardians, grow close to them. How we grow attached to them. He fears another rebellion, should one grow too close to an assignment. He fears that the Links will be the very root of his angels betraying him. That his angels and these Links will produce heirs that are powerful enough to take down even himself.”

“So Y/N…” Hyunjae’s voice is trembling more than he’d like to admit. “She’s my…she’s my Link? My soulmate?” He receives a sad nod from his brother and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. 

“Father saw you growing attached. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before you began to break the rules he’d set in stone.”

“But I haven’t…I haven’t done anything. I’ve kept myself under control, nothing has happened!” Hyunjae protests. “It isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to her.”

“I know.” Sangyeon wraps his arms around his younger brother, feeling Hyunjae’s body shake with rage and fear, and pain. “I know, little brother.”

~

A crack of thunder shakes the building, and the pounding of rain fills the awful silence of the hospital. It’s surprisingly quiet for this time of day, but nobody would ever say that out loud. 

Hyunjae is in your hospital room again, his head lowered and his foot tapping against the ground. A nurse enters the room, flinching when she sees him. Her body remains tense the entire time she takes your vitals. 

“Is she getting better?” He asks before the nurse leaves. There’s a moment of silence before he looks up at her. She looks afraid, but there’s sadness in her eyes.

“No. She’s not.”

The door shuts again and Hyunjae lowers his head back down. The beeping of machines begins to overwhelm him. It’s constant, and he begins to wonder if you can hear it too. If you can hear what’s going on around if you’re screaming for someone to hear you and see you and listen to you. 

When the door opens again, he knows who it is.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Eric is breathless, his voice hoarse and strained. 

“I have,” comes Hyunjae’s monotone response. 

“Has she woken at all?”

“No.” Hyunjae looks up again, resting his face against his laced fingers. “No, she’s comatose right now.” Eric’s face twists with pain, and Hyunjae barely flinches when the young boy’s hand collides with the concrete wall. There’s an ugly crunch, and he watches Eric bite back a scream. His knuckles are now bleeding, and his hand already going from red to purple. 

“Fuck.” The boy hisses quietly, cradling his fist to his chest. Hyunjae scoffs out a laugh.

“That was idiotic.”

“I know.” Eric sits beside the Guardian, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the pain. Hyunjae eyes the bloodied and bruised fingers and rolls his eyes. 

“Give me your hand.” Hyunjae holds out his own hand, palm facing up, and Eric shoots him a look.

“No offense, you’re hot and all, but I’m not into you.” Hyunjae bites his tongue again and continues to hold out his hand.

“I’m not into you either. Glad we’re on the same page. Give. Me. Your. Hand.” Eric slowly stretches his arm out, placing his fist into Hyunjae’s outstretched palm. There’s a soft glow and a few cracking sounds. Eric’s face goes pale, watching his fingers snap into place as if they had never broken. The blood remains on his fingers, and he wipes them with a tissue.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Eric asks, gazing at his fixed hand in amazement.

“I have a number of tricks up my sleeve, kid.”

“Is this the same thing that keeps you from aging?” Hyunjae hesitates before he responds. “And don’t try lying to me. I’m not dumb. At first I just thought your skincare was hella good, but after twelve years of you not aging past twenty-five it kinda gets obvious that there’s something up.”

“You’re not afraid?” Hyunjae asks curiously. Eric shrugs.

“Unless you think I should be, not really. You’ve protected Y/N our whole lives, you’ve done nothing to make me think I shouldn’t trust you. I don’t know who or what you are, but I trust you.”

“Interesting.” Hyunjae sits back in his chair, leaning his head against the wall. “So if I told you I was her guardian angel, you’d believe me?”

“I mean…I guess?” Eric shrugs. “Unless, for some reason, that’s a lie?”

“No, it isn’t. And this isn’t a human disease.”

“What do you mean it isn’t a human disease? Like…this is from Heaven?”

“Mhm. Given to her directly by Father dearest to spite me.” Eric’s jaw drops open a bit.

“God wants to kill my best friend?”

“You pick up on things fast.” His head snaps to the side and he hears Eric hiss in pain. When Hyunjae turns his head back, Eric is sitting quietly, eyes trained on his best friend. “Are you glad you did that? Did that make you feel better?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Keep talking.”

“She’s what we call a Link. She is, essentially, my soulmate.”

“Ew, age gap much?” Hyunjae snorts, his lips curling into a smile. He’d expected Eric to be less accepting of all of this, but apparently, he’d underestimated the boy. 

“My Father, God as you call him, doesn’t necessarily approve of Links. He wants to eradicate them all. He gives them diseases, angelic diseases that have no cure in any world. Not in Heaven, not in Hell, and certainly not here. Any medications given are just prolonging the inevitable.”

“So…She’s just…gonna die?” Eric asks, and Hyunjae gives him a pitiful look. “Is there anything that you can do? You’re her soulmate, there’s gotta be something. True love’s kiss?” The Guardian shakes his head and Eric lets out a shaky sigh. 

“My brother is…trying to find something. Anything that can help her. We just have to be patient.”

He isn’t entirely sure who he’s trying to convince, himself or Eric or both. He knows that these attempts are futile. He knows that he can’t save you like he’d promised you so long ago. 

I don’t want to die like my mommy.

I won’t let that happen.

~

“We need to consider that she might not wake up.” Hyunjae stares down at the doctor, his hands shaking and his eyes narrowed. “It’s…it’s been two years, sir.”

“I don’t give a damn how long it’s been,” Hyunjae snarls, standing over your comatose form. Protecting you. “We aren’t pulling this plug. Not now, not ever. Do you understand me, Doctor?”

“Sir,” the older gentleman tries to plead, “I understand your frustration but… you need to face that she would be better off just…going on her own terms. Keeping her alive, in this state where she has no control over her bodily functions, where she can’t communicate with us or feel the things that we can, it isn’t good for her or for you.”

He knows the doctor is right. He knows he’s just prolonging the inevitable, he always has. But he can’t let go of you yet. It’s too soon. He hasn’t had enough time with you. Hasn’t had enough time to talk to you, to take care of you, to love you, cherish you, adore you. He hasn’t had time to show you the world, as he’d wanted to for so long. He hadn’t had time to tell you the truth. 

Although, at this point, the truth is…unfortunate. His wings had been stripped from his body, his and his brother’s. His rights as a Guardian have been removed. Anything he could’ve used to save you…there’s nothing left. He has Fallen, but he couldn’t be more proud of it. He doesn’t have to hide himself anymore, doesn’t have to fear the man he once called Father. 

“Hyunjae,” Hye-Ri stands at his side, her eyes tired. “You know the doctor is right.”

“Shut up, Hye-Ri.” The young demon snarls. Hye-Ri doesn’t snap at him this time. She looks sad, almost pitying him. Sangyeon stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of you do.”

“Lee Hyunjae,” Sangyeon says sternly, “use reason. I understand you’re upset, but you need to understand that your soulmate is suffering and that you are being selfish.”

“Am I not allowed to be selfish?” Hyunjae cries. “Even now that I am finally free from God’s hands, am I not allowed to be selfish for once?” Hye-Ri leaves the room, her eyes lowered to the ground. Sangyeon steps forward. Hyunjae moves even closer to you. 

“You are allowed to want things, little brother,” Sangyeon speaks softly, so as not to anger Hyunjae further. “You are allowed to want her. You are allowed to crave more time with her, but you cannot have her like this. You know that.” For a brief moment, Hyunjae wants to scream. He wants to throw the vase of flowers that sits beside your hospital bed, he wants to tear this building down until there’s nothing left but a pile of bricks. 

But he doesn’t. He stands there, gazing down at you and brushing his thumb across your cheek. Your body is cold, and when he touches you, you don’t so much as twitch. His hand drops to his side. 

“Get Eric. Get the doctor.”

~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the beach in front of you. You’re laying in the sand, water washing up to your ankles. The sun is warm on your skin, but you aren’t sweating. In fact, nothing about your situation is uncomfortable. You’re at peace, more comfortable than you think you’ve ever been.

The second thing you notice is that you’re in nothing but a bathing suit and a beach cover. You don’t remember changing into this. In fact, you can’t seem to remember anything after the party.

“You’re awake,” you turn your head and you begin to smile. Hyunjae is dressed in a simple tee shirt and shorts, two classes and a bottle of champagne clutched in his hands. He’s grinning at you, and you rise to your feet.

“You’re wearing something other than black, I see.” You tease him. He lets out a laugh, and you think it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Hilarious, little bug.” He nudges your side, guiding you to a nearby table with two long beach chairs sitting side-by-side. “Come have a drink with me.” You follow him, the beach cover blowing behind you a bit. Your hair isn’t quite tussled by the wind around you, just brushed over your shoulders. Everything is perfect.

Too perfect.

Hyunjae takes a seat on one of the chairs, gritting his teeth when he removes the top of the champagne bottle. 

“I always get nervous opening these things. Far too dangerous for their own good if you ask me.” You sit beside him, and he side-eyes you. “I got you your own chair.”

“What if I want to sit next to you?” You challenge. He pauses, and for a moment you think he looks…sad. That moment passes quickly, and he’s smiling again and laughing to himself. 

“I won’t stop you then.” He takes one of the glasses and slowly fills it with the bubbling alcohol before passing it to you. You thank him quietly and briefly turn your gaze to the ocean. 

“Have you ever seen water so clear?” You ask, half rhetorical and half curious. He hums.

“Once or twice.”

“I didn’t think Heaven would have beaches this nice.” Silence behind you, and you turn back to Hyunjae, still smiling. He’s staring at you, his body completely frozen. You can see his body shaking, the liquid in his glass sloshing up the sides. You take the glass and the bottle from his hands, setting both on the table beside him. Tears are beginning to wet his cheeks, and you reach forward to wipe them away. 

“I didn’t…I’m so, so sorry little bug.” His voice cracks and the tears keep falling. 

“Jae, you knew it would happen eventually. I did too. That’s just…I just got the shit end of the stick in this life.” You slide closer to him and he lets his eyes close. “Besides, did you really think that I believed you had really good skincare? For almost twenty years?” 

Hyunjae wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you as close as he possibly could. You let him hold you, you let him whisper his apologies, and his regrets, and his whispers of I love you, I adore you, I’m sorry this happened before I got to show you the world. You just smile, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulders. 

When he pulls away from you at last, his cheeks are red and stained with tears. You’re still smiling, assuring him that everything is okay. 

“So,” you raise the two glasses of champagne and hand him one, “what are we toasting?” Hyunjae shakes his head, his smile returning.

“Whatever you want, little bug. Anything you want, I will give you.” You hum, kicking your legs a bit and digging your toes into the sand. 

“Anything, you say?” You wiggle your eyebrows and while he laughs, you know that he means every word. You know what he doesn’t have the strength to say yet. I am yours. You are mine. I will cherish you, adore you, and love you how I should have when you were alive. “Fine then.”

“Have you decided?” He turns toward the beach and you do the same, leaning your head on his shoulder briefly. You feel him flinch when you press your lips to his shoulder blade, where you can feel his wings once were. 

“I have.”

“So?”

“To merry bad endings, and to you for going against what you’d been raised to do, for believing in me and in your brother.” Hyunjae smiles, tipping his glass to yours. A small clink echoes across the beach.

“To merry bad endings.”

~

TAGLIST: @hyunjaespresent-deobi @just-here-to-read-01

[goodboyaudios]

i’m evil like that muahaha~ also!!!!! congratulations on 40k!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m sure you’ll be getting way more recognition in the future:D

since you gave permission:

you said you’re finishing off uni, did you always know what you wanted to study? i’m at the (depressing) stage in life where i’m fully realizing how many curve balls life throws at you:) the path to success usually isn’t linear, so i’m curious about your journey!

it seems like you’re always asking for feedback or addressing issues, etc. do you have any feedback for us (as in, the community)? most people i’ve interacted with are pretty chill, but idk maybe there’s we could improve on?

this one might be a bit personal, so feel free to ignore! do your friends or family know about your channel/work? i’d imagine it’d be nice to have someone you could bounce ideas off of before publishing stuff! if not, how do you manage to hide all that stuff hahah~. you’ve built an entirely different universe, so i refuse to believe a sane man can keep all of that in his head and live a normal life simultaneously:p

if you could befriend any oc of yours, who would it be and why?

i’m not sure how to word this question properly, but are there any endings/plot points that you had initially envisioned differently? like, did you think a story was going one way and changed your mind half ways through?

you don’t have to answer all of these! you did ask for it, but i hope i’m not overwhelming you haha~

Absolutely not. School didn't do anything to prepare me for the world. My college has done less than nothing in preparing me to get a job in my field, YOUTUBE HAS DONE MORE FOR ME THAN COLLEGE AT THIS POINT and if I'm completely honest with you? That's fuckin sad. No, I had no idea what I wanted to do and I wish I was that kind of person who knew right out the gate. (lucky bastards) Okay, I'm done with my rant lol

I didn't know what field I wanted to study in, so I took a chance and jumped into something I knew I had some knowledge in and hoped for the best. Really that's all you can do. I have learned that, when you get out of highschool and you don't know what to do, do everything until something sticks. Trial and error. It's not the most efficient, but it works!

Any feedback to GIVE to the community? Let me think. Honestly, the community has been very wonderful to me. Occasionally something pops up, but it's usually squashed. The discord server is full of wonderful and creative and talented people who have always had my back and support the work I do. I hear all the time about drama in fellow creator servers and toxic behavior in the communities, etc...but my end of things has always been super nice! (that might have something to do with my lack of NSFW content) But yeah! No notes really! Everything good in our little neighborhood!

My family is aware AND so is my extended family lol! They are supportive, but they don't really give me ideas to bounce off. I have other fellow writers and creatives or that! And I do write everything down and go back to it in case I forget something. But typically speaking its all in my head, yep! I just...don't know how to do other things! Like...dress fashionably or...function in a normal society...you know useless stuff like that!

Zed. He needs a friend lol

Only with Bastard Warrior actually! Every story, I envision how I want it to end first, but with Bastard Warrior, I had thoughts of changing it because it was supposed to be enemies to lovers, yet the canon ending isn't Albus getting with Faith. So, I made 3 endings to appease everyone lol

Hope I got all of the them lol!

[mj-102009]

Queen of Chaos (Gojo x oc Part Four)

Masterlist for previous parts

dw this hasn't been abandoned lol Enjoy---

Megara had no regrets.

Gojo was an egotistical ass that needed to be humbled; and his buddy Geto was getting close to the same point. Shoko just had pretty privilege.

She will say however, that the way he called her a curse and spat out the term– stung a little. Geto was morbidly curious about the feeling of her going through his arm; this was just flat concerning. But Yaga’s pride and faint grin made up for it all.

Much later in the safety of her quarters, Ren thumbed over the rim of her phone and stared at the empty wall.

‘-a rare opportunity for the Ren family; you should be grateful.”

‘Play your cards as I’ve taught you Megara.’

‘Don’t acknowledge that bitch.’

“You’re a fool for thinking those dimwits could keep me down for long.”

Megara refused to move her stare from the wall, Yasha’s figure stood in the corner of her vision. The curse’s voice was smooth and drew every word out with a melodic lit.

The curse was attractive for her kind; She was tall with a full chest and a slim waist, but could throw a man with a flick of her wrist.

Meg opened her phone and checked the time, ‘12:43.’

“It’s late,” The curse mused looking around the room. “Dingy…anyway– how long did the other Ren say we’d be here?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at the wall.

“Gods Megara,” Yasha growled, kicking the bed. “Answer me!”

She blinked sleepily and rolled onto her back.

“Don’t you fuckin-”

“My mind,” Megara whispered, her eyes turning their natural green as she fell into the colorless depths of her own mind.

“I don’t want you to use your cursed techniques if you can handle it without,” Yaga said.

Gojo frowned and crossed his arms, a whine already on his lips. “But-”

The teacher barely turned his head to look at the white haired boy. “Shut it Satoru– you’re not going.”

“But whyyyyyy-”

Geto sighed and turned to the blind girl, Ren was listening to the whole interaction with an amused smirk. “I’ll take the lead on this, you just-”

“You’ll both be equals on this,” Yaga interrupts with a stern look.

Ren gave him an appreciative smile but Geto rubbed his face and nodded.

“What if it’s a special grade?” Geto asks. “Can I…?”

Yaga nodded. “One exception.”

The blind girl’s shoulder slumped and she turned on her heel. “C’mon I don’t want to miss dinner.”

Gojo huffed and mumbled something about “Old farts”. 

The pair frowned at the old post office. 

“I thought it was just a second grade,” Ren huffed softly, tilting her head to look at the bricks.

Geto nodded before flushing and stuttering. “Y-yes.”

She chuckled before walking into the building. She paused when she didn’t hear footsteps. “Coming?”

“Should you wait out here?” He asked, making her frown. “If it really is a special grade…?”

“I can hold my own,” She told him, a hint of offense in her tone. “Only thing I can’t do is drive back to the school if we miss our ride; now hurry.”

The pair walked inside slowly, Megara had her head cocked and pale eyes shifting around. Geto followed her movements with rapt attention, her mannerisms and body language, and the way she distributed her energy to flow. Her hand gently caressed the walls as they walked down the halls, following the trail of cursed energy.

“Do you have a plan?” He whispered.

She stifled a laugh. “You were the one that wanted to walk in without me, I thought you would have a plan.”

He would never admit to the shamed flush that crawled up his neck. “I thought it would only be me.”

“Well, tell me what you had.”

The pause spread on for a while. “I got nothing.”

She chuckled under her breath. “I figured,” With a sharp turn she waved her hand. “We’re two of the most powerful sorcerers in the world; we’ve got this.”

This time he was following her lead as she followed her senses to a hallway with a door at the very end. She tilted her head and frowned. “There’s a door right?”

He hummed in confirmation and she confidently strode towards it. “Hey– shouldn’t we come up with something?”

Megara turned to him. “I suppose…what do you think?”

“When you fought us,” Geto began analyzing her reactions. “You used our eyes.”

Her ears turned red. “...yeah.”

“If you can use my eyes, to get to it and freeze it so I can use my technique,” He was extending the olive branch– slowly albeit but still.

Megara nodded. “You're okay with me…?” She trailed off slowly vaguely gesturing to her eyes.

With a steady breath in, he answered: “Yes.”

“Alright,” She agreed, shutting her eyes and exhaling. “His eyes.”

This time when he was paying attention he felt a calming buzz just behind his eyes, like a series of rapid taps. She opened her eyes and his own irises met him.

“Ready?” She asked, standing up and offering him a hand.

He blinked once then took it.

The door opened with a creak that Megara didn't feel comforted by.

“Hey!” She called into the open room, walking in with full awareness from Geto’s bird eye view from the top floor. “I’m here!” She cupped her hands together and shouted. “I know you can feel me, come out ugly!”

A hiss came from the farthest corner of the room, she faced in with searing intensity. 

“I see you,” She said lowly, widening her stance to be steadier. “Come on out.”

Its head slowly came out from its veil of shadows, rows upon rows of teeth snapped at her as she provoked it. Gray tentacles made themselves known to her as she shifted her balance.

Geto watched in fascination as she held herself with confidence.

“Gonna fight?” She growled curling her hands into fists. “I know you want to,” Her eyes narrowed. “You feel my energy,” She pulsed waves of cursed energy into its awareness. “Come at me.”

As one long limb shot at her side she shifted left and pivoted to face the side of it; in one swift and powerful swipe charged with energy the tentacle was sent sprawling.

She flexed her hand and frowned. “It’s tentacles,” the curse froze and she studied it. “You can come down now.”

Geto leaped down and approached her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s something in it,” Her eyes were pale again with the shift in control. “It is a second grade but…there’s some sort of cursed object.”

He approached it. “I feel it but I can’t see it.”

She kicked the limp tentacle and swept her foot to find it. “Here,” She searched over it and pressed her hand on a thin vein looking lump. “Do you have a knife? Or-”

“I got it,” He brushed her hand aside and jabbed into it.

“Fuck,” Megara whispered feeling her side.

Geto had his hand in the curse already, but looked over his shoulder in concern. “What?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Her hand came away dry but the feeling of a knife going through her stomach was briefly sickening.

“Found something,” He told her, grunting at the unappealing feeling of the curse’s bodily fluids.

She pulled off her hoodie and held it out to him leaving her in a white long sleeve and shorts. “Put it in here.”

It was a finger. Long and dark, with two inches worth in nail black as pitch.

Geto cringed and the curse bubbled into nothing with its power gone. “God this thing has to be decades old.”

Megara wrinkled her nose as well. “It feels like centuries at the least.”

“C’mon we’ll bring it back to Yaga,” He said, wrapping it up.

With a sigh, her shoulders slumped the slightest inch. “Don’t want to keep Ijichi waiting.”

After a moment he finds the words to ask: “Enjoying the school?”

She chuckles. “It’s a blast,” Sarcasm was apparent in her tone.

Geto rubbed the back of his neck. “I do owe you an apology.”

“For what?” Her tone was genuinely confused.

“For judging you based on your…” He trails off.

“Curse?” She finishes with a shrug. “Don’t worry I’m used to it.”

He winces internally. “Then let me apologize for Satoru.”

She laughed, a high peel of laughter like bells in the wind. “That’s something he needs to do himself,” She smiled at him. “Thank you though.”

And while she couldn’t see it– he found himself smiling back.

The silence as Yaga studied the finger stretched along the room. Megara and Geto stood stalk straight as he twisted it slowly.

“Well done you two,” He tucked it away and gave them a tight smile. “You’re dismissed.”

Geto walked to the door and turned his head to Megara. “Coming?”

“Just a moment,” She said with a kind smile. “I’ll be out in a minute or two.”

He left the room and closed the door. 

“Ren,” Yaga said politely. “How can I help you?”

She nodded to the artifact. “What is that thing?” Her tone was riddled with disdain.

He should have known nothing gets by her. “It’s one of the 20 fingers of Ryomen Sukuna.”

Her eyes fluttered. “You sent us to get that thing?”

“I knew you would have been fine,” He argues.

“Me? Yes. But not that boy,” She told him, breaking her rigid posture. “The bloody god of curses– are you mad?!”

He shushed her quickly. “He’s not helpless.”

She sighed and clenched her fists. “I didn’t say that.”

“I knew you’d protect him, Ren,” He told her calmly. “I had no doubt in your abilities.”

She shook her head and turned to leave. “I will not be your beck and call, Yaga,” Yasha made herself known in the corners of her mind, feeding off her frustration. “I am here to learn and train– not collect your missing fingers.”

And she missed dinner…great.

Yasha pulled herself into Megara’s vision with a stretch. “Gods it’s so fuckin’ hot out here.”

She frowned and didn’t regard the curse, flipping open her phone and used voice typing to make sure a local ramen shop was still good for pick up.

“You can’t ignore me forever out here,” Yasha sang, poking her cheek. “I already apologized.”

She batted away her hand and started to find her way to the gates. 

“This is stupid,” Yasha mused. “Do you need help?”

“Leave me alone,” She said miserably.

“Ren!”

She turned over her shoulder and said. “Geto?”

A quick tap of feet and a hand was on her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Oh wow he’s cute,” Yasha said, studying him closely.

“Dinner,” Megara answered. “We missed it.”

He shuffled. “You seem like you need help.”

She bristled as Yasha started to laugh. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighed as she shrugged off his hand. “I know you're capable but Tokyo isn’t as easy to get around as a curse.”

“Tell him I’ll help you if you’re that desperate not to go,” Yasha offered walking circles around them.

Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “Yeah, some help would be great.”

Megara found the difference between Gojo and Geto to be simple. The first time Gojo had spoken (if you could even call it that) with her– he hadn’t even tried to look through her cursed energy levels; thinking with his ego and not his head. Whereas Geto tried to understand her and how she worked with her curse, the ways that affected her. He got to know her.

Perhaps that would be her downfall.

Tell me if you enjoyed! I'll keep going with this I swear-

Taglist:

@witchbybirth 

@enchantingkitty

@aish777