#and most of them are barely placing ahead of that lol

[pixiestix0-0]

class 1-a after fighting the League of villains once a week as freshmen, becoming child soldiers in a war, losing some of their friends and teachers, watching the semi-fall of the hero system, helping defeat the worst villain in history, and still going through two more years of hero shit until graduation just for all of them except one to rank lower than the washing machine hero eight years later:

[arolesbianism]

I wanna take a crack at making some fake screenshot graphics for my Sif Odile duo loopers au but I do not feel confident enough in my ability to mimic isat's art style and I also have a crippling fear of drawing backgrounds

[fushitoru]

chapter 4: the game a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary: satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

a/n WARNING this chapter is suggestive. like always minors dni. not edited at all bc im sick of this chapter lol (like always i fear). see u at the bottom ;)

prev. the manor | next. the fall

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader, 

It has come to the attention of This Author that Miss Itadori, the undeniable diamond of the season, has made her appearance at Gojo Manor a full week ahead of the rest of the ton. Such early arrival can only provoke speculation: might the tender buds of affection be blossoming in the Kentish countryside? Shall we soon witness Miss Itadori departing with more than just fond memories, perhaps even a ring upon her finger? These are the very questions now fluttering through the minds of young ladies and their ever-watchful mamas, who may find their carefully laid plans to ensnare Lord Gojo dashed before the house party has even begun.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Gojo leaned back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the armrest as he watched you fumble with the library door. The soft fabric of your nightgown slipped off your shoulder, a glimpse of bare skin catching in the dim light⸺something not lost to Gojo’s eyes as he watched your figure disappear angrily. Your face was flushed, eyes wide and uncertain. Despite the flurry of emotions playing across your features, what struck him most was the way your hands trembled as you fought to maintain composure.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. You had come here⸺of all places⸺into his sanctuary, and for what? A part of him couldn’t reconcile the image of you sneaking into the library in the dead of night with the proper, composed lady you portrayed during the day. The whole encounter felt surreal, leaving a knot of confusion coiled tightly in his chest.

His gaze lingered on the empty doorway after you vanished, a strange hollowness settling in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the feeling, but it clung to him like the shadows of the room. His fingers tightened around the armrest, knuckles whitening as if he could grasp onto something concrete⸺something that made sense. But all he was left with was the lingering echo of your footsteps in the hallway and the ghost of your flushed face in his mind.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. His mind kept returning to the way your nightgown had slipped from your shoulder as you fumbled with the door. The pale fabric had slid down so effortlessly, exposing the curve of your bare skin. It wasn’t scandalous, not really⸺not enough to warrant the way his thoughts kept circling back to it. And yet, he couldn’t shake the image, the unexpected flash of vulnerability. The sight of it stirred something in him, a quiet confusion that unsettled his usual composure.

What was it that made him notice? Gojo’s brow furrowed as he considered it, his fingers absently drumming on the armrest of his chair. He had witnessed plenty of women in far less modest circumstances (most of them courtesy of his friends, who forced him to go to ridiculous events), and yet, this felt different. There was something about the way you had tried to maintain your dignity, the way you had fought to compose yourself even as your face flushed and your nightgown betrayed you. It was... distracting.

The memory of your fearful expression gnawed at him. He had expected haughty arrogance or calculated charm, not genuine fear. You weren’t like the people who usually surrounded him, playing their part in society's grand performance, all vying for his attention. There was an intelligence in your eyes, a spark that made him feel something unsettlingly close to admiration.

He couldn’t make sense of it. Why did it matter that you were different? Why did he find himself enjoying your company, despite the fact that you seemed entirely uninterested in his? He drummed his fingers against the armrest, contemplating the possibility of pursuing you for the rest of the season⸺though he quickly dismissed the thought. You were uncooperative, difficult. A chase after you would be nothing short of exhausting. 

And yet...

His attention shifted back to the desk, to the scattered papers you had left behind. Gojo reached for them, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the parchment as though handling something fragile. The numbers and diagrams were a mess of scribbled notes, and yet, they held a strange familiarity. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines with his eyes, piecing together the fragmented calculations. Then, like a puzzle falling into place, it clicked.

Venus. Of all things, you had been calculating the size of Venus.

Gojo’s hand froze midair, hovering over the papers. He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He had assumed⸺no, expected⸺you to be reading some frivolous romance, a book about love and passion, something fitting for a young lady sneaking into a library. But instead, you were working on complex celestial calculations.

He had pegged you for a typical young lady of the ton⸺someone more interested in the latest gossip or the affections of suitors than in the stars. It annoyed him, more than he cared to admit, that he had been wrong.

Gojo set the paper down, his hand resting on the edge of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. The flicker of irritation that sparked in his chest was unfamiliar, unsettling even. It wasn’t just that you had surprised him⸺plenty of people had done that before. No, it was the fact that he had misjudged you so completely. He prided himself on being perceptive, on seeing through people’s masks with ease. Yet here you were, slipping past his assumptions with nothing more than a few scribbled notes and a fleeting presence.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time in a long while, he felt uncertain. Gojo wasn’t used to feeling this way⸺unsettled, annoyed, and a little too curious for his own good. He tapped the papers lightly, lost in thought. What did it mean that you had gotten under his skin like this? That he found himself wanting to unravel the mystery of you, to see what lay beneath the surface of your carefully constructed facade?

A sigh escaped his lips, low and quiet. His hand finally left the papers, and he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t quite grasp. The world around him was filled with people who either fawned over his charms or remained blissfully unaware of his true nature. But you? You saw right through him. You challenged him, unsettled him, made him question things he had never thought to question before.

With a final glance at the empty doorway, Satoru leaned forward again, ready to dive back into his work. But this time, his thoughts weren’t solely on his family’s ledgers. They were on you⸺and the undeniable pull that had started to form between you.

And inevitably, because Satoru is distracted, he lets the lull of sleep sneak up on him, swathing him in its deep, heavy blanket.

No, Satoru hears himself think. You’re not supposed to be here.

You’re sitting on his bed, somehow made it up to his chambers. A part of Satoru comprehends⸺in all his sleep-deprived glory⸺that he is definitely dreaming, but there’s an overwhelmingly stubborn part of him that dominates his entire consciousness, refusing to accept the fact. 

You’re leaning on your elbow, resting on your side on the foot of his bed. Part of him wants to believe that you are really here, sheer nightgown that seems to get shorter and shorter⸺slipping up your thighs⸺every time his consciousness paints an image of you. The sheer material drapes over your figure, accentuating the gentle curve of your waist and the fullness of your hips, painting a picture that torments him.

“My lord,” you whisper. 

It’s just his title, but your voice carries a sweetness it never holds in reality, dripping with an unfamiliar softness that makes Satoru’s heart lurch. Panic takes root, and he scrambles back, trying to distance himself from the fantasy in front of him. His back slams against the headboard as he fights to resist⸺not just you, but the part of himself that aches to abandon all notions of honor. That part of him that craves to do things to you that are anything but honorable.

Then, he notices your smile. It’s not the polite, practiced smile you show at balls or to suitors vying for your attention. This one is sincere, warm⸺a smile that speaks of affection, the kind you’ve never shown him before.

Like you are in love. 

And you are not helping Satoru in his restraint because you position yourself, crawling like a predator, straddling his lap. Satoru is suddenly breathing too fast, his chest tightening with the weight of desire and disbelief.

Your lips are at his ear. Your lips are so soft. “Touch me,” you say, trailing your lips down feather light across his jaw. 

Right now, you are in love. With him. You are his, and Satoru desperately does not want to fight it. 

He does not want to. 

Your hands start trailing down his torso, and now he registers that he is simply wearing a linen shirt and underwear because you are tracing the edge of his underwear, touching his inner thighs, getting so, so impossibly close to⸺

“No,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am a man of honor.”

But that’s a lie. One that Satoru clings to, because admitting the truth would shatter everything he’s built. His identity, his values⸺they all rest on the lie he’s desperately trying to hold onto.

What he really wants is nothing between you and him.

He wants that flimsy nightgown gone, the one that barely covers your thighs and what lies between them. He wants to keep the candlelight burning so he can see every inch of you, learn every detail of your body. He wants to slip off your chemise and explore the softness of your skin, trace the swell of your breasts, the dip of your hips, and taste the sweetness of your lips.

Satoru can’t focus on anything except the fact you are utterly, scandalously close to him, sitting on his lap and staring at him as if you love him. 

And his treacherous heart wants to abandon duty, honor, the dukedom, the royal family⸺everything⸺and simply take you. To feel the weight of you pressed against him, wrapped around him.

But just as his hands move to cup your face, you start giggling. “No, you are not.”

Satoru blinks, confused.

You laugh again, light and teasing. “You are no man of honor.”

And suddenly, your laughter echoes in his mind, filling the room with its taunting melody. It etches itself into his thoughts, leaving an indelible mark.

“You are a coward.”

You entered the drawing room to break your fast, Choso by your side, and immediately locked eyes with Gojo, who was already seated at the table with his mother. He quickly looked away, focusing on the toast he was slathering with an ungodly amount of jam.

As you moved to sit at the table with Choso, you couldn't help but study him. Gojo appeared more disheveled than usual, perhaps a bit fatigued, though any sign of vulnerability quickly vanished when your mother spoke.

“Lord Gojo, it is a fine morning, is it not?” she inquired with her usual warmth.

Gojo smiled, leaning back in his chair with his characteristic nonchalance. “Indeed, Lady Itadori, especially as I am blessed with such lovely company as yourself and your daughter.” His eyes flickered toward you, an arrogant glint in them before they shifted back to your mother.

You and Choso exchanged exasperated glances. 

Your mother chuckled, clearly charmed. “Oh, my lord, you flatter me. Tell me, what do you favor for breakfast? I am always curious to hear of others' preferences.”

“Clearly, it is toast drowned in enough jam to satisfy an army,” you muttered under your breath, delicately spreading butter onto your own toast.

Gojo’s eyes flashed, and he couldn’t resist a retort. “At least I do not indulge in something as dull as butter.”

You stiffened. “Butter is far superior to such overwhelming sweetness. Jam annihilates the taste of the toast itself, rendering it pointless.”

“And butter,” he shot back, “adds nothing but blandness. It is unremarkable, simple, and tasteless.”

A surge of heat rose to your face, ready to deliver another sharp remark, but before you could respond, Duchess Gojo’s lilting laughter filled the room. “Oh, my dears, what a lively couple you make!” Her tone was teasing, her eyes alight with amusement. “Such spirited conversation at breakfast⸺how delightful!”

Both you and Gojo stiffened, your faces flushing, though whether it was from irritation or something else entirely, you couldn’t say. You hastily turned your attention back to your toast, while Gojo busied himself with his tea.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Since we are all in such a lively mood this morning, I do believe a game of pall-mall is in order once breakfast is through. The garden is in full bloom, and the weather is perfect for it.”

Your mother smiled graciously. “A wonderful idea, Duchess. It has been some time since we last enjoyed a game.”

“Indeed,” the Duchess agreed. “And I daresay a little friendly competition will do us all good. What do you say, Lord Gojo?” She turned to her son with a knowing look. “I trust you are up for the challenge?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “I never shy away from a challenge, Mother. But do be warned, I have no intention of losing.”

“Confidence is a virtue,” you remarked dryly, reaching for your teacup, “but do not let it cloud your judgment. Pall-mall requires more than mere bravado.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Ah, a challenge from you as well. This shall be an interesting morning indeed.”

“Let us hope your skills in the garden match your flair for words, my lord,” you retorted, your tone light (for the sake of preventing your mother a heart attack) but your gaze to Gojo sharp. 

Duchess Gojo’s laughter rang out once more, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Oh, this will be most entertaining! Come now, let us finish our breakfast, and then we shall see who emerges victorious on the field.”

You took a sip of your tea, pointedly ignoring the way Gojo’s gaze lingered on you as you did so. The day had barely begun, and already, you felt the familiar tension of being in his presence. But if there was one thing you knew, it was that you wouldn’t back down from a challenge⸺whether at the breakfast table or in the garden.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, we must let our diamond choose first. After all, she is the only lady participating today.”

You smiled warmly at her, a polite nod of appreciation. Gojo, however, frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced between you and the bag of mallets. “Are we not simply setting her up for victory?”

Turning to him with an innocent smile, you crossed your arms. “What’s that, my lord? Are you unable, as a man, to deal with the loss of your chosen mallet? I know some men depend heavily on certain familiars to win.”

Gojo held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he looked away. “Choose whatever you want. I will be sure to defeat you regardless.”

Duchess Gojo placed a warm hand on your back, encouraging you forward. “That’s the spirit, my son. Now, Miss Itadori, do choose which one you fancy.”

You approached the bag of mallets, your eyes scanning over the selection. They varied in subtle shapes and sizes, each one seemingly tailored for a different style of play. Your gaze settled on a mallet slightly larger than the others, painted a light blue shade. Its weight and shape seemed particularly advantageous for aim and control—perfect for directing the ball with precision.

As you picked it up, Gojo’s expression darkened, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes. “Of course, she chooses the best one,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well,” Duchess Gojo crossed her arms. “I suppose it’s only fair that you all let the lady go first.” She turned to you, nodding. “I will go join your mother for tea inside, my dear.” Winking, she adds, “Show these boys how real ladies do it.”

As the duchess took her leave, Choso, always the supportive brother, leaned over to you with a small smile. “Excellent choice, sister. Show them how it’s done.”

You gave him a grateful nod and positioned yourself for your turn. With a graceful swing, you sent the ball rolling smoothly across the lawn. Choso clapped in approval, but when you looked up, Gojo and Yuji were both glowering at you from the sidelines.

Gojo’s lips curled into a smirk, clearly not amused by your success. “Beginner’s luck,” he commented dryly. Yuji could only nod in mindless agreement to Gojo, and you graced him with a glower. Traitor.

Now it was Gojo’s turn. He stepped forward with confident ease, positioning himself with the mallet as though he had been doing this his entire life. With a swift, practiced swing, his ball shot forward and struck a target dead center. Yuji’s eyes sparkled with admiration, practically beaming at Gojo’s skill.

Choso and you exchanged petulant glances, unimpressed by Gojo’s display. But Yuji’s excitement only grew, and he couldn’t resist praising his mentor. “Incredible, my lord! You never miss!”

Choso’s turn came next. With a focused look, he lined up his shot and knocked Gojo’s ball right out of position, sending it tumbling off course into a forested area. Gojo let out a forced laugh, masking his irritation as best as he could, and you clapped and let out a small, petty giggle. “Good shot, brother! I fear Lord Gojo will have to travel much distance to retrieve and get it on course.”

You would come to bite your words.

When it was Yuji’s turn, he aimed with all his might and sent your ball flying out of position. You gasped in outrage, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you will pay for this.”. 

Gojo, on the other hand, gave Yuji a hearty pat on the back, beaming with pride. “Well done, Yuji. Well done.”

It was now your turn, and you stomped your way towards the forested area where you and Gojo’s balls had traveled towards. Soon enough, Gojo was following after you.

The path was shaded by trees, and the coolness of the forest was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You could help but give each other glares until you finally broke the silence.

 “How dare you bewitch my brother into turning against me?” you accused him, stepping over a stray root.

Gojo rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “It appears that Yuji’s blood is indeed not thicker than water,” 

 “Or maybe⸺just maybe⸺your charm isn’t as infallible as you think.”

Keeping pace beside you, Gojo scoffed. “And yet, here you are, still engaged in conversation with me. I must be doing something right.”

You shoot him an angry sideways glance. “I’m only here because my ball is, unfortunately, in the same direction as yours. Nothing more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so it’s mere coincidence that fate keeps pulling us together.”

“More like unfortunate circumstance.”

The two of you continued bickering as you searched for your wayward balls. The back-and-forth banter echoed through the forest, neither of you willing to back down.

Finally, you spotted them⸺your ball and Gojo’s⸺resting precariously on top of a narrow stream of water. You both halted, glancing at each other, and then, without a word, you raced forward.

Gojo reached the water’s edge first, but you weren’t far behind. Neither of you hesitated as you waded into the shallow stream, your focus entirely on retrieving your respective balls. The bottoms of your clothes became soaked in the cool water, but neither of you paid it any mind, too busy grappling to reach your goals first.

Just as you managed to scoop up your ball, your dress snagged on something in the water. You stumbled forward, colliding directly into Gojo, who had just retrieved his own. The sudden impact sent both of you toppling into the water.

You landed squarely on top of him, the shock of the fall leaving you momentarily dazed. Gojo blinked up at you, his breath catching as his gaze dropped to your now-dampened bodice, honing in on your bosom. For a moment, his usually sharp and calculating eyes softened, confusion flickering across his face as if he didn’t quite understand the effect you were having on him.

You scrambled to find your words, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t mean to⸺”

Before you could finish, Gojo gently grasped your shoulders and helped you off of him. He stood up first, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he brushed off his wet clothing and offered you a hand. You took it, steadying yourself as you rose to your feet.

Gojo swallowed hard, clearly at a loss for words. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then quickly closed it, shaking his head. “I must go,” he muttered,.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving you standing there in the stream, confused and flustered as you watched him disappear into the trees.

“I am not impressed.” Nobara impassively stares you down with a glower.

You fluttered your fan, maintaining a delicate air of mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?”

The two of you sat at a small table on the terrace, its stone surface warm from the midday sun. Before you, the expansive field served as Gojo’s personal training ground, scattered with targets and archery equipment. Gojo and his protégé, Yuji, had clearly been at it for hours, their bare skin glistening with sweat under the relentless sun. They moved with a practiced ease, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

Gojo was currently demonstrating a particular stance to Yuji, his voice carrying faintly over the terrace as he corrected the younger man’s posture and grip. Yuji, ever the diligent student, watched him with an intensity that bordered on awe. You couldn’t help but reflect that his expression now⸺determined and assured⸺contrasted much with his encounter with you at the game. 

Nobara’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the scene. “Why are we here?” she asked flatly, her gaze lingering on the two men.

You turned to her with a smile, fluttering your fan with exaggerated elegance. “Why, to record in my journal, of course. One must capture the beauty of Mother Nature when it presents itself so generously from this terrace.”

Her expression remained unimpressed. “Is it truly Mother Nature that has captivated you, or Lord Gojo’s bare skin?” She glanced down at your unopened journal, its quill resting untouched beside it. “And how much progress have you made in this recording of yours?”

You couldn’t suppress a laugh, caught in your own half-hearted excuse. “Well, even you cannot deny that he presents a rather fine figure, can you? And I will get to my writing in due time. Inspiration must first strike, after all.”

Nobara sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “I cannot fathom how you find pleasure in looking upon a man who has caused you so much distress. Many times, in fact.”

You glanced back toward the field, watching as Gojo effortlessly pulled back his bowstring, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. His form was impeccable, each action a demonstration of his skill and strength. Yuji, in contrast, struggled to replicate the motion with as much ease and accuracy, though his determination was evident.

"He’s clearly enjoying himself," you commented dryly, turning your attention back to Nobara. "Torturing me, that is. I might as well make due of my harrowing and demeaning stay here and enjoy some aspects of Gojo. I swear, he delights in the fact that I’m stuck here."

Nobara’s eyes narrowed, and she snorted. "Oh, absolutely. Men like him don’t get much amusement in life unless it involves making someone else miserable."

You shook your head, remembering the library encounter all too vividly. Gojo had seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, and yet he had taken to taunting you with his usual smugness. That infernal smirk of his had been etched into your memory.

"I almost wonder," you mused, "if he was actually shocked to find me in the library. Perhaps I caught him off guard for once."

Nobara raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing? Looking for a book on how to survive insufferable dukes?"

You chuckled softly. "No, I was reading about Venus, actually. But Gojo⸺he assumed I was indulging in some silly romance. Imagine his surprise when he realized I was working on calculations instead."

Nobara’s lips twitched upward in amusement, but before she could respond, a loud thud! echoed across the terrace. Both of you looked down just in time to see Gojo's arrow hit the target dead center.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he would show off. That insufferable man never missed an opportunity to flaunt his skills. Yuji, predictably, looked like he was about to faint from admiration.

Gojo notched another arrow, his back muscles rippling as he drew it back with practiced ease. His abs tightened with the effort, and though you told yourself you were merely observing his technique, your gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. The tautness of his form was, undeniably, impressive.

“It is a shame,” Nobara remarked, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “He does present a rather fine figure. If only his character matched his appearance.”

You blinked, realizing that your gaze had lingered on him for far too long. “What?”

Nobara glanced at you, her expression half-amused, half-pitying. “I merely observe that if his manners were as well-formed as his physique, he might be a most agreeable companion.”

You opened your fan again, waving it lightly in front of your face. “Perhaps. But we both know that appearances can be deceiving.”

Nobara’s expression turned serious as she looked at you. “You must find yourself a husband who is both well-formed and well-mannered, my dear. Else I shall be forced to gouge out my eyes every time I am called to attend on you.”

You sighed dramatically, closing your fan with a soft snap. “Whatever you say, Nobara.”

Yet, even as you dismissed her words, your gaze drifted back to the field. Gojo was a puzzle, indeed. And whether you liked it or not, he had captured more of your attention than you were willing to admit.

Satoru is sweaty and hot, and therefore he must rush back to take a cold bath. 

The weather is quite warm, he must admit to himself. Teaching Yuji had been nothing sort of pleasurable; the boy’s physical prowess was quite impressive, and he learned things very, very fast. If Yuji were to keep learning and working on his skill, he would easily be up to Gojo’s level or even surpass him. 

As he climbs up the stairs to the terrace, he wipes his brow, which has budded with sweat. When he crosses a table that overlooks the field, he notices a book. His mother and him wouldn’t expose any books like this⸺a fine and intricate design covering the top⸺to the harsh, humid weather, so he picks up the book, frowning.

Frowning, he picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him. The book felt unfamiliar in his hands, and as he opened it, the words within seemed to swim before his eyes. Annoyed, he rubbed the sweat from his forehead and squinted, finally making out the fine, neat handwriting on the page.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

Satoru's eyes widened, and a flicker of intrigue sparked within him. He flipped to the next page, where the writing grew messier, more hurried.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

His eyes widened. If he had been intrigued before, now he was thoroughly captivated. This had to be you. His heart began to beat faster as he quickly turned to another page, where the ink was still fresh, and a pressed leaf lay nestled between the pages.

If I were to base my choice of husband solely on physical appearance, I must confess that Lord Gojo would be a most compelling candidate. However, to consider him without regard to his character would be a grave disservice to myself and to dear Nobara, who would bear the consequences of such a choice daily.

I hold out hope for a suitor with a similar strength of physique, one whose form displays power and grace, much like Gojo. His muscles, so clearly defined, speak of formidable strength and control—his back rippling with every pull of the bowstring, his breath labored as he steadies himself.

Alas, such attributes, though appealing, are not enough…

His fingers hovered over the delicate page, the words sinking in. A part of him wanted to laugh at your sharpness, your refusal to fall prey to his charms, but another part⸺one that kept resurfacing and resurfacing against his will, showing up even in his slumber⸺felt something else entirely.

…What a pity, indeed.

prev. the manor | next. the fall

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a/n i feel like the only important plot point in this chapter is that gojo is a boobs guy

sorry if this chapter was a little icky :( i prefered publishing this than having to subject my dear beta reader to having to edit this mess or even me having to think about it further. i will rest so that the next chapter is better <3 (lots of fluffy moments to come in the next one)

gojo when you spawned in his bedroom

will finally treat myself to answering asks after I wake up since i'm done with this dreadfull chapter <333 jesus it's 3am

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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[leighsartworks216]

Kiss-Proof

Sylus x implied fem!Reader

Inspired by this fic by @peachlynnie

Also inspired by an Archie comic lol

Warnings: fluff, kissing, established relationship, lipstick, implied sexual content at the end

Word Count: 948

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How he got roped into this situation, he has no idea. Not that he's complaining. What could be better than his partner straddling his lap, kissing him over and over again?

You plant a kiss at a bare spot on his cheek without ceremony. You pull away, hopeful, only to deflate when the vibrant imprint of your lips are left behind. "Ugh, this one transfers, too." The tube of lipstick is tossed off to the side with the other failures.

Sylus grabs the makeup wipe from the previous attempts (almost completely covered in various shades of pink and red). His hand holds your jaw warmly, thumb on your chin, as his other thumb brushes the wipe over your lips.

He could suggest taking you shopping to the high end stores that would most certainly have lipstick proven not to smudge or transfer, but then you'd have to get up and stop testing it. His lips still have some red staining them, and his cheeks, neck and forehead are almost completely covered. He'd hate to stop now.

"How many more do you have to test?" he asks.

You shift in his lap, forcing him to stop his ministrations in favor of holding your hip to support you. You grab another lipstick tube from a pile andshift the remaining ones around. "Like, five more? At least one of these has to work."

He shifts his legs, settling you back into place, and draws your attention back to him so he can wipe away the last smidge of tint at the corners of your mouth. "If none of these work, I'll buy you some more," he promises. He nods slightly as he sets the wipe aside. "Go ahead, try this one."

You use a little compact mirror to help you get the shade on right. It's a warm red, bloody and tempting. It’s the same shade as his eyes after a couple glasses of Gin Fizz, when he looks at you with unbridled affection, enhanced with his slight intoxication.

Sylus would be the first to admit how much he loves watching this. He loves the comfort you have to propose this silly idea, to crawl into his lap with a bag of lipsticks and makeup wipes and the intensity of an executive making a pitch to a board room. He loves getting to watch the concentration on your face as you glide the applicator over your top lip, following the natural line to ensure it's perfect. Loves the mild frustration when you mess up the corner. Loves that you trust him to fix it with the wipe wrapped over his thumb nail. Loves the quiet thanks you mutter before you get back to work.

Fully applied, you hum impatiently as you turn the tube over to read the directions. "'Wait two minutes.' Damn."

"The best results take time," Sylus teases.

You shoot him a half-hearted glare. "Fine. What should we talk about for two minutes?"

He hums as he taps a finger on your hip. "I don't think I ever asked: Why are you so eager to find a lipstick that doesn't transfer?"

"Well," you wipe your thumb along his lip, dragging the lingering color with it, "it's embarrassing to drink from a glass and leave a big smudge behind."

He chuckles. "That's what's got you so worried, sweetie?"

You trace the rouge up to his prominent cupid's bow. "Mm, not completely." You wonder what he'd look like with lipstick on him properly. You're sure he'd look amazing. Hell, even like this, covered with all your kisses, he looks good. You're damn near convinced he can pull any look off.

He squeezes your sides. "Tell me," he implores, voice soft and tender.

You sigh. "When we go to auctions, I feel like I can't kiss you," you admit quietly. "Everyone there is so... imposing. I don't want to, well, do this to you," you gesture at all the lipstick stains, "and ruin your reputation."

"Sweetie." He cups your cheek in his large hand. It holds you perfectly, always. You lean into it without a second thought. He smiles. "My reputation isn't that fragile. Besides..."

His voice gets lower as he draws you in. You could get high on the way his eyes flicker to your mouth. His nose brushes yours, hot breath shared in the centimeters of space left between you.

"How else will they know who I belong to?"

Your breath hitches. His mouth is on yours, seeking, claiming, drawing you deeper into him. You feel the creamy texture of smudged lipstick as you hold his face, slide your fingers along his neck into his hair. It streaks along his perfect skin.

His tongue licks the seam of your lips, begs for entrance. You tug at his hair as you let him in. He groans into your mouth, sighs a wanton rendition of your name. Your shirt slips up your waist as he dives a hand below the fabric to press against your bare skin.

You pull away sharply. "The lipstick!"

His eyes look murderous for being disturbed, by you of all people. Still, he contains himself enough not to dive right back in. Just barely. What he can’t contain is the furrow in his brow and the frown he wears.

You ignore the smudges of color on his skin, matching stains on your hands, as you tilt his head up to better look at his lips. They're still stained with that light red from before, but-

"Sy! It worked! This one didn't smudge!"

"Perfect." He pulls you roughly back down to him, biting your colored lip before licking it sinfully. "Let's take it for a test run, shall we?"

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy

[sscieloz]

Live my life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and they still don’t have a lot to offer, and there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them blindly.

Warnings: smut. lowk confusing… but it’s the aesthetic

Word count: 9.9k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD 😤😤 I was obsessed w the MV as soon as it was out so I wrote this work!! it ended up being too long (lol) so i decided to split it in 2. I SHALL NAWT VANISH ANYMORE PINKY PROMISE.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Ningning’s hesitation is easily explained by the amount of suitcases hanging from the small hood of the car. The four girls agreed to bring each a single backpack of clothes for themselves, so the instruments and sound equipment could also be transported.

Clearly, it was still too much.

“It has to.” Winter answers, her tiny frame reaching up as she tries to grab one of the big suitcases herself. With Ningning’s help, she manages to do it, and they both stare at the car, wondering about an adjustment that would work.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you that I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red from the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything to help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark, space to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that much muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why sigh deeply.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking in disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

There’s nothing they can’t do, as long as they’re together.

[kaisturni]

rope bunny (pillow princess pt 2) | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; after your first night with chris, you do your best to stay out of the radar of his brothers. when you two return back to your room after filming, chris has a kink he wants to work out with you.

→ includes; smut, unprotected sex, restraining, f! oral, getting caught (kinda), creampie, angst if you squint, light fluff

→ a/n; i was going to post tomorrow but i could not WAIT hope i did it justice for everyone since this is my most loved fic (out of three lol but still crazy) and this one’s for the horny freaky FUCKS, ur just like me and i’m just like u, enjoy 🙈

NOT PROOFREAD

——————————————————————————

i opened my eyes and squint, adjusting to the bright sun entering the room. i’m still naked, still hugging chris, and still buzzed from the events of last night.

he’s already on his phone, and when he notices that i’m awake and looking at him, he smiles and peppers kisses all over my face,

“mornin’ baby,” placing the last kiss on my lips, making sure this one was longer than the others.

“good morning, how did you sleep?” i ask while stretching, the blanket slipping down, exposing my bare chest.

chris bites his lip lightly, “slept good, feeling even better now,” he whispers into my ear, taking a hand and squeezing.

i do my best to not groan at his action, since the day has just started, “chris! seriously? not right now!” i laugh, slightly pushing him away and crawling out of bed to get myself into the shower.

he frowns at the loss of contact, “sorry i just cant help mysel- are you showering? can i come with???” he pleads after watching me grab a towel and shuffle to the bathroom,

as much as i want to get in to the shower with him right now, i know were in a rush and we have places to be with nick and matt, and i don’t think we need them on our trail with both of us coming out of the room with wet hair.

“didn’t you shower last night? plus we have to get going in 20, that’s not enough time for-“

“for what?” he smirks,

“nothing, it’s just not enough time!” i half yell, slamming the bathroom door. honestly, the fact that he’s so needy already is cute.

it makes me wonder how he’s going to act when we’re with nick and matt. is it going to be awkward? obvious? are they going to clock us right away and never speak to me again? i shudder at my own imagination. i guess we’ll find out today.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

they haven’t picked up on anything.

which is good, because chris and i aren’t exactly doing a very good job at keeping a low profile.

he’s been stealing kisses from me all day; whenever the camera is not on, we’ll find ourselves trailing behind the group just to give each other a few quick pecks,

even sitting next to me and squeezing my thighs under the table when we go out to eat, laughing when he sees me trying to control myself under his touch.

“we’ve got to get going to the driskill now, is everyone ready?” nick asks, and we all nod following him out of the restaurant and to the hotel.

of course, chris and i “unintentionally” trail to the back again, holding hands and kissing behind his oblivious brothers.

that is, until matt turns his head around just as chris is about to kiss me again, and we have to almost rip apart at his eye contact.

“jesus, what’s wrong with you two??” matt questions with a chuckle, with good reason because i’m obviously extremely startled by almost getting caught.

“nothing, i was just saying something to scare her before we got to the hotel,” chris says nonchalantly, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.

“well i don’t want to know, i’m already fucking terrified,” nick chimes in, thankfully not turning around and continuing to keep his eyes ahead of him.

matt agrees, and they carry their own conversation, forgetting about us. chris gives me a little wink and a quick peck on the side of the head, both of us in a silent agreement not to try anything to close to them, it not being worthy the risk.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we’ve been filming for about an hour or two at this point, we end up in a room where sam and colby decide this is where we’re doing the estes method.

“okay so y/n and nick can go first, just sit over on that couch put these blindfolds and headphone on and you’ll start hearing words playing back to you,” sam tells us while handing nick and i our gear.

chris watches me without even blinking while i put my blindfold on, and i stare back at him until i see nothing.

nick and i do it for about 10 minutes and we were able to get some good stuff for their video,

“matt and chris, how about y’all try it next” colby says as nick and i unblind ourselves.

i hand chris my blindfold and he bends down to my level, “you look so fucking sexy with a blindfold on, remind me to steal those from them later,” he whispers and smiles devilishly, taking the blindfold from my hands and claiming my spot.

i can feel my heart rate pick up at both his comment and our proximity to the others, it seems like he really does not care about getting caught; or he just lives for the thrill of it.

now that him and matt have the blindfolds on, chris starts man spreading, bucking his hips upwards and throwing his head back.

this man knows exactly what he’s fucking doing.

every word he says is in a low, slow voice, and i’m sure he’s laughing in his head at the vision of me squirming at what he’s doing.

him and matt finish, chris taking matt’s blindfold from him, “i can put these away for you guys,” he says to colby, and he thanks him and the group starts walking towards the bathroom.

i look back at chris and he’s shoving the blindfolds into his pocket, bringing his index finger to his lips, giving me a silent hush. my breath hitches and i don’t want to even let myself get hot and bothered by what he could be having in store for me later.

the fantasy that almost begins to brew in my head is flushed by nick and matt's whispers ahead of me.

“i don’t know, it’s weird!”

“i don’t believe you for a second.”

“i swear, i don’t know what happened last night, but something is going on between them,”

i feel my heart sink to my stomach the second i hear those words come out of matt’s mouth. he must have suspected something when we were walking to the hotel. were we being that obvious the whole day? i can’t even remember at this point.

i can feel my heart race and breath pick up, anxiety seeping through my body before i feel a hand on my shoulder,

“you good?” chris looks at me, a worried expression on his face.

the last thing i want to do is make him worry about his brother’s speculations, so i give him a half hearted smile,

“yes, just tired that’s all,” his eyes search my face,

“me too, it’s okay we’ll be done filming soon,” he pats my shoulder lightly and turns to talk to his brothers. i’m jealous of how calm he’s able to be with the way he’s asking. it’s not like i’m the one who’s being risky, but it sure as hell feels like it does.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

it’s around one in the morning when we say goodbye to sam and colby and start heading back to our own hotel.

i decided to walk with nick instead of chris, and even then i can feel matt’s eyes burning into the back of my head.

i do my best to actually keep eye contact with him whenever he looks at me just so i can show i don’t have the “we both know i’m with your brother” expression on my face.

“goodnight, we’ll see you guys tomorrow to check out thrifts and shit,” chris starts, before beginning to walk in the direction of our room.

“what? i thought we were all going to hang in our room for a little,” nick asks, looking at me confused,

“nah, y/n told me she’s super tired and i don’t want to keep her up if i come in late, right, y/n?”

god he’s so fucking good on the spot it drives me nuts.

“yeah i’m exhausted, all that ghost hunting has me beat, but don’t worry nick i promise shopping tomorrow will make up for it,” i say,

“keep your promise missy!”

i salute him before giving nick an arm hug and walking away as we blow each other a kiss.

chris keys us in to our room, while looking back at me with a sweet smile and kisses me on the cheek,

“m’lady,” he says while ushering me to go in, causing me to roll my eyes and giggle.

i don’t even have time to think before chris slams me into the door of the room and pushes his lips into mine.

we moan into each others mouths, his arms snaking around my waist and mine wrapping around his neck on cue.

“fuck, i’ve been needing you all day, i don’t know how i waited this long,” chris says breaking the contact between our mouths and moving his lips down to my neck with a trail of sloppy kisses,

“jump,” he demands, and i do and he holds my legs in place around his legs,

“chris,” i breathe out, unable to come up with complete sentences to say.

he moves his lips back up to mine, and without breaking our kiss lays me down on the bed, himself still standing over me.

chris breaks away fast and harsh, i look at him slightly confused,

“what’s wrong? what are you do-oh my god,”

chris pulls out both blindfolds he stole while we were filming, which i had entirely forgotten about. honestly i thought he just put them in his pocket for the theatrics, but i was dead wrong.

“thought i forgot about these, huh? i couldn’t get the sight of you with it on out of my head,” he says while removing my top then kissing the part of my breasts that are exposed through my bra.

“i couldn’t decide if i wanted to blindfold you or tie you up with it, so i decided on both. now strip,” he stands up tall and holds the silky fabric between his hands, wrapping it around his left knuckles.

i do as i’m told and i get completely naked, sinking to the ground in front him.

he takes his top layers off until he’s standing there in just pants, eyes dark and peering down at me.

i can feel myself quickly getting soaked, and chris grabs my throat and pulls me up closer to his level,

“you’re gonna do as i say, got that baby?” i nod vigorously, and he motions for me to lay on the bed.

“put your arms pretty girl,” he husks, kissing up my naked body before tying my wrists together in a bow above my head.

“i didn’t think you would be into this kind of thing, christopher,” i purr at him, watching chris bite his lip at my comment,

“i’m mainly just in to you, and since you’re mine i get to try anything i want with you, right?” he says, dipping down to suck on my nipple.

the feeling causes me to moan and squeeze my legs together, aching for him to absolutely fuck me senseless.

“r-right,” i say in a breathless agreement, and he gives me that devilish smile once again.

“good. now just lay back and enjoy it all baby,” he brings the blindfold up to my face and i lift my head so he can tie it around my head.

immediately i feel his hand go between my soaking core, causing me to arch my back even his gentle touch,

“you’re already so wet, you make it so hard to not fuck you so quick,” his voice rings into my ears like a melody as his two fingers enter me with ease.

“oh fuck, mmm…chris-“ i wriggle in my makeshift handcuffs when he curls his fingers with each pump, hitting the perfect spot every single time.

he removes his fingers from inside me, and i groan at the void of the pleasure that was building up inside me.

suddenly he pushes my legs further apart, and i gasp when i feel his mouth sucking on my clit.

pornographic moans echo in the room, and he buries his face deeper into my pussy, vibrations of his moans sending me further into a frenzy.

i’d give fucking anything to grip on to his hair right now, but since that option was taken away from me i’m left squirming under his touch, feeling the knots in my stomach grow tighter by the minute.

“shit right there, don’t fucking stop please,” i feel like i’m going to explode as he goes between sucking on my clit and giving fast licks to it on the tip of his tongue.

“how could i? you taste so sweet, y/n, god i love your pussy in my face,” he says before immediately going back to his attack on my core.

“b-baby i’m so close,” i practically scream out,

“let it all out f’me pretty girl,” he mumbled against me, and i release all over, feelings my legs trembling over my high.

i feel chris’ soaking wet mouth on my lips again, tasting myself as he explores my mouth with his.

he breaks away and i inhale deeply, picking up the sounds of his belt and the undoing of a zipper.

i feel his dick rub between me a few times before he immediately starts thrusting, holding my hips in place for his movement.

“ah chris! too much, too much!” i groan, my body still aching and the overstimulation well washed on me.

“no, take it—take it like the good girl i know you are,” he says, not breaking a rhythm of the pace of him slamming into me.

our moans meet once again, and his roughness only takes me further on the path to another orgasm.

he only moves his body to kiss me, rough and hard like his own movements.

“fuck y/n, i’m not lasting long with you,” he whimpers out, and i cant even focus on the words he’s saying because of the fire ready to burst inside of me.

“chris i-i’m gonna c-cum again,” i manage to say barely above a whisper, i’m so fucked out that even breathing is a challenge at this point.

“cum with me,” he says, his thrusts becoming sloppier, and we both reach out highs, feelings myself becoming warm with my own and his juices mixing inside of me.

chris removed the blindfold around my wrists and face, his tired eyes meeting mine.

he kisses all over my face with slow, gentle presses, “how was that?” he asks, then kissing the tip of my nose once more.

it’s insane how much of a different person chris turns into when we fuck.

“it was so good chris, thank you,” i say before reaching for my phone and crawling back on top of the bed.

chris joins me, and i lay on his body with my leg thrown over him; gently scratching my leg.

i notice i’m at low battery, thinking to get a charger, but immediately groaning in annoyance.

“what, what’s wrong?”

“i left my charger in their room. can you go get it? they must think i’m asleep by now,” i ask with doe eyes.

i know he’s going to do it anyway, but what’s the fun without teasing?

he laughs, “well since you asked so nicely,” he says before pecking my cheek,

“i can, i’ll be right back,”

i hum in response and he gets up, throwing just his boxers and a robe on.

i don’t bother putting on any clothes yet, but i do make myself comfortable in the blanket of the bed.

i close my eyes and hear the door open,

“okay WHAT the fuck.”

my eyes shoot open as i see matt and nick looking straight at me, horror filling both of their eyes.

chris is in a robe, i’m still very obviously naked, and there’s the stolen blindfolds on the bed; it’s not a good look.

i don’t even know what to say, the ringing in my ears beginning, feeling like i’m going to pass out.

why are they even here? were they listening? waiting?

i’m so full of embarrassment and anger, that i can’t even control myself.

“GET OUT, ALL OF YOU GET OUT!” i scream, and all of them look at me in shocked silence while i take the heap of blanket out of the bed with me and shove chris out of the room into the hallway with nick and matt.

it isn’t his fault, but it kind of is. for some reason i’m not really angry with him, more so at the situation. all of this could’ve been avoided if we just said something sooner and that’s what makes me feel the worst.

i quickly change into a pair of chris’ sweats and my own tshirt, rubbing my face into my palms as i brace myself to open the door again.

“y/n-“ matt starts,

“so you think it’s okay to fucking listen in on us through the door like a creep? what is wrong with you!” i yell, feeling the tears begin to pool into my eyes,

“no, no! that’s not what happened, we came because-“

“i heard what you said at the driskill!”

“what?” chris looks at the two confused, and they just ignore his expression and relay their focus back to me,

“y/n, we were just joking around. we came to bring you your charger that you left in my bag. anyway, we didn’t think actually anything was going on between you two.” nick starts calmly, allowing my own temper to mellow out with his soft speaking.

“yeah, we were just messing around. but obviously there was some… truth to it,” matt finishes.

chris sits silently next to me on the bed rubbing my back while i bury my face in my hands in shame.

“i’m so sorry guys, i don’t want you to fucking hate me for this, especially you nick; we were friends first,” i lightly sob into my hands and nick sits down on the other side of me,

“hey no, i, we, could never hate you for dating our brother— you guys are like, dating now right?” he says, looking at chris with raised eyebrows,

and i look at him, knowing we’re more that just fuck buddies; he said so himself. but just out of the curiosity of what he will say to his own brothers.

“of course we are,” we smile at each other and i turn back to nick,

“then i’m happy for you both. just remind me to fucking rip my ears and eyes out after hearing, and SEEING what i just witnessed,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up and closing his eyes, trying to shake the memories from his head.

“oh GOD, please tell me you didn’t hear much?” i look at him and matt with pleading eyes,

“don’t worry, just the OHHH CHRIS, IM GONNA CUM!” matt mocks him; nick groaning in disgust and chris and i turning red at his words.

“okay okay, thank you guys now get out, and don’t stick around uninvited,” chris says, getting up and opening the door for them.

“hope you guys will actually be fuckin asleep when we see you next!” nick says, the door following soon behind him.

chris takes a deep sign, “well, that was out sooner than later. are you okay?”

“yeah, i am. i’m glad they know now, i don’t know how long we could’ve kept this up without them knowing,” i say,

he plays with the end of my hair, “me too, i never want to keep you a secret,” he gives me a half crooked smile,

i kiss him gently and wrap my arms around him, his presence safe and calming.

“thank you, chris. i do need to shower though, i’m still… covered,” i say, collecting a towel and some of chris’ clothes he’s been letting me borrow.

“can i come with this time?”

“chris!”

——————————————————————————

@chrizzpiecreme @viiiwwwee @mattsbrowser @anna-sturniolo @kellynlovesmatt

[the-winter-spider]

Waiting Room | 2/3

Bucky x reader (as always )

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Angst i guess sorta

A/N: So this is the next part to waiting room that was suppose to be just a One Shot but in easily convinced lol and I didn't really have a direction for the story to go in and this is where I landed, so hope you enjoy. There will be maybe another part or two so I can wrap it up. 

The night was cool as you walked away from the compound, the silence almost soothing despite the ache in your chest. You hadn’t made any plans, hadn’t packed anything more than a single bag. You just knew you couldn’t stay in that place anymore—not with the memories pressing in around you, with the sense that every hallway, every room, was echoing with what used to be between you and Bucky.

The city lights were ahead of you, casting faint glows against the dark sky, and for the first time, you felt completely unmoored. Your thoughts tangled in every step you took, as if each pace was a step away from the life you had built with the Avengers, and more painfully, from Bucky.

Hours passed as you wandered the city, barely aware of where you were going. You ended up at a small motel on the edge of town, paying cash for a room that barely had any light, just a bed with thin sheets and an old TV on a dresser. The emptiness of the room felt like it mirrored the hollow ache in your chest.

You set your bag down on the bed, letting out a sigh as you sank onto the edge, staring at the wall as thoughts of Bucky washed over you in waves. Images of him smiling, his quiet laughter, the way he’d hold your hand when no one else was around—all of it clung to you, heavy and unrelenting.

Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts to his name, thumb hovering over it. You knew he wasn’t waiting for your call; he’d made that clear. But part of you, the part that still remembered what it felt like to be wrapped in his arms, wanted him to pick up, to tell you this was all just a mistake.

Instead, you tossed the phone aside, burying your face in your hands as tears began to fall. You wanted to scream, to do anything that would make this feeling go away. The anger, the heartbreak, the deep sense of loss—the betrayal it all felt like it was crushing you.

The next morning, you took a breath and tried to piece together a plan. If Bucky wanted nothing to do with you, if the team was moving on without you, maybe it was time for you to do the same. You didn’t know how, but you’d figure it out. And maybe, someday, the memories would hurt a little less.

Days turned into weeks, and you managed to stay under the radar. You took on a few odd jobs here and there, avoiding anywhere that felt remotely familiar. You kept your phone turned off most days, keeping a low profile as you tried to settle into a new rhythm.

But at night, alone in that tiny motel room, everything came flooding back. The emptiness, the loss of the life you’d left behind, and the hollow ache that reminded you of the man you’d once thought would be by your side forever. You didn’t wanna feel anything at all anymore.

The motel was your base for now, a temporary haven between jobs. You knew eventually you would have to move but for now the dull hum of a broken fluorescent light above the bed was your only company most nights. You’d buried your old life, the Avengers, and everything you once fought for. Your existence was pared down to survival and the cold efficiency of violence.

You used old contacts from your past—people you’d hoped never to need again. Mercenaries, informants, shadowy figures from the underworld who didn’t ask questions as long as you delivered. And you did. Each contract was a blur, each mission a mechanical task you completed without hesitation or remorse. Slowly you were becoming less of who you were and more of what you were supposed to be before him.

Your skills made you valuable. Assassinations, high-stakes retrievals, contract killings—you took them all. It was work, and it kept you moving. You didn’t feel anything anymore, not the fear, not the guilt, not even the satisfaction of a clean job. You became a ghost, slipping in and out of places, leaving behind a trail of red.

Every kill was precise, methodical. You didn’t stop to consider who your targets were or what they’d done. The moral compass you once clung to was shattered, left in pieces back at the compound. You moved like a machine, your thoughts dulled by the monotony of violence. The whispers of self-destruction were your only companion now.

Weeks blurred into months, the days bleeding into each other. You didn’t follow the news, didn’t check your phone, didn’t want to know what was happening in the world you’d left behind. You didn’t see the press conference Tony had to hold, standing stoic as reporters peppered him with questions about your sudden disappearance.

“Agent Y/N has taken a leave of absence,” he’d said, his voice cool, calculated. “For personal reasons.”

That was all he gave them. No details, no promises of your return. When the questions turned toward your mental health, your stability, Tony’s jaw tightened, and he ended the briefing. Behind closed doors, the team was scrambling, doing everything they could to track you down. But you were a ghost, and ghosts didn’t want to be found.

In the quiet moments between jobs, you sat in the shadows of your rented room, staring at the ceiling. The weight of your kills didn’t register anymore; it was just a tally in your head, numbers climbing higher each week. You didn’t care who you were working for, as long as they paid and kept you busy. The emptiness was consuming, but you welcomed it. It was better than the pain.

You stopped dreaming. Stopped thinking about him, about any of them. The warmth of Bucky’s touch, the safety of his arms around you—it was a memory you refused to let surface. You buried it deep, alongside every other part of yourself that once cared, once felt.

When you weren’t working, you spent your time in dingy bars or cheap motels, drowning in silence. The weight of your solitude was your only companion. You avoided mirrors, avoided looking at the hollow shell you’d become. It didn’t matter anymore. You didn’t matter anymore.

Back at the compound, things weren’t much better. The team was holding together by a thread, every day marked by your absence. They didn’t talk about it openly, but everyone felt the weight of the void you’d left behind. Tony buried himself in his work, throwing up defensive sarcasm whenever your name was mentioned. Steve was more reserved, quiet, his concern etched into every line of his face, his thoughts a constant whirl of guilt, of what if, he was your leader, your friend, your family he should have done better. Natasha, Clint and Sam worked tirelessly to trace your steps, but you were always one step ahead, your trail going cold each time they got close.

Bucky, though—Bucky was a different story. He was unraveling. The stoic front he tried to maintain crumbled more each day. He’d catch glimpses of your room, still left untouched, and it felt like a dagger in his chest. Every lead that turned up empty, every mission he went on without you, only deepened the chasm of guilt and regret.

He didn’t show it around the others, but late at night, when the compound was quiet, he’d sit in the dark, gripping his dog tags as though they could anchor him. He replayed every moment, every word he’d said to you, the pain in your eyes when he told you it was “for the better.” He’d thought he was protecting you, sparing you from a life tethered to his darkness. But all he’d done was push you into your own.

Meanwhile, you continued to slip further into the shadows, your humanity fading with each passing day. The girl who once fought alongside Earth’s mightiest heroes was gone. Now, you were just a weapon, a tool for hire, drowning in blood and regret.

And you didn’t care if you ever came back.

The common room was silent, the atmosphere suffocating. The team sat around the dining table, their plates mostly untouched. It hadn’t been the same since you left—no, since you vanished almost a year ago. Conversations were hollow, laughter a distant memory. Every mission, every meeting, carried the weight of your absence.

Bucky sat at the far end of the table, his eyes fixed on his plate, though he hadn’t touched his food. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the clink of utensils against ceramic as Sam and Natasha picked at their meals. Steve was deep in thought, brows furrowed, while Tony sipped at a cold cup of coffee, his usual bravado long since dulled.

Suddenly, Tony’s tech pad beeped, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he read the data. Without a word, he stood abruptly and made his way to the common room, his pace quick and determined.

“Guys,” he said, voice sharp as he entered, the pad clutched tightly in his hand. The urgency in his tone snapped everyone to attention. “I think we’ve got something.”

The team immediately straightened, all eyes on him. Bucky’s heart lurched in his chest, a flicker of hope and dread surging through him.

“What is it?” Steve asked, his voice steady but tense.

Tony didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tapped on the pad, and a hologram appeared above the table—a blurry snapshot of surveillance footage. The image was grainy, taken in some dimly lit warehouse, but there was no mistaking the figure in the frame.

It was you.

Your hair was shorter, your face leaner and paler than they remembered. Blood spattered your cheeks and clothes, your eyes sharp and cold. You looked like a ghost, hollowed out and deadly, a shadow of the person they once knew.

The room went deadly quiet, the weight of the image sinking in. Natasha leaned forward, her jaw tightening. Sam cursed under his breath, while Steve’s grip on the edge of the table tightened until his knuckles turned white.

“Is there video footage?” Steve asked, his voice low, barely concealing the mix of hope and fear in his tone.

Tony nodded grimly. “FRIDAY, play the video.”

The hologram shifted, and the grainy footage began to play. The scene unfolded in a dingy, run-down warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. Armed men moved through the space, clearly preparing for some sort of deal. But then you appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a wraith.

You were fast, efficient, and terrifyingly calm. Without hesitation, you took out each man with precision—gunshots, blades, hand-to-hand combat. It didn’t matter how many came at you; they all fell. The blood spattered across your face only made your pale skin look more ghostly, more detached from humanity.

What shook them most wasn’t the violence—it was you. Your expression never wavered, your eyes cold and emotionless. It was as if you were on autopilot, a machine programmed to kill. Even when a bullet whizzed past your face, barely missing you and sending a strand of hair flying, you didn’t flinch. You simply moved on to the next target, cutting through them like they were nothing.

Bucky’s stomach churned as he watched. His hands gripped the edge of the table, his breathing shallow. He could barely process what he was seeing. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t the person he’d loved, the person he’d pushed away to protect. This was someone else entirely—a hollow shell, deadly and unrecognizable.

When the video ended, the silence in the room was deafening. Tony rubbed a hand over his face, his usual sarcasm replaced with grim resolve. “That’s the most recent hit we’ve got. It’s from a week ago.”

Steve was the first to speak, his voice strained. “She’s not just surviving out there. She’s… she’s lost herself.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “She’s always been a fighter, but this? She’s not fighting for anything anymore. She’s just… existing.”

Sam shook his head, his voice low. “She didn’t even blink when that bullet came at her. It’s like she doesn’t care if she lives or dies.”

Bucky pushed himself back from the table, standing abruptly. “We need to find her, I got to find her” he said, his voice rough, barely containing the storm of emotions threatening to spill over. “Now.”

Steve nodded, his resolve hardening. “Agreed. We’ve waited long enough.”

Tony tapped on his pad, pulling up a map. “I’ve got the warehouse location. It’s a start, but if she’s smart—and we all know she is—she’s already moved on.”

Natasha stood, her eyes locked on the map. “Then we track her. We use everything we’ve got.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with thoughts of you. The footage replayed in his head, the cold, detached look in your eyes, the way you moved without hesitation or fear. He knew he’d pushed you away to protect you, but now… now it felt like he’d only sent you spiraling further into darkness.

And he wasn’t sure if he could bring you back. But he’d die trying.

The hologram of the warehouse lingered in the air, casting a dull blue glow that accentuated the tension in the room. Tony continued scrolling through surveillance feeds, his movements precise but edged with frustration. No one spoke at first, the weight of your absence hanging over them like a storm cloud.

Sam finally broke the silence, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Where is she even finding out about these deals? She’s not exactly walking into a coffee shop and picking up intel from strangers.”

Clint, seated at the far end of the table, narrowed his eyes, his mind already turning over possibilities. “Maybe old contacts?” His gaze shifted to Natasha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and her face was set in a mask of unreadable tension.

She didn’t look at him immediately. When she did, her eyes were distant, filled with memories she rarely allowed to surface. “Yeah,” she said quietly, almost reluctantly. “That’s likely.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Someone from your Red Room days?”

Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening as she nodded. “Before SHIELD. Before the Avengers.” Her voice was cold, clinical, the tone of someone recounting a story they wished wasn’t their own. “There’s a guy… a fixer. He operated out of Eastern Europe, connected to black market arms deals, high-profile hits, anything illegal you can think of. If she’s working for him now…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

Sam leaned forward, frowning. “Anything you’d like to share with the class, Nat? Because this feels like something we should’ve known before.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, her gaze flickering toward Clint before settling on the table. “Before SHIELD, before Clint and I found her… she was lost. When she escaped the Red Room, she had nothing—no resources, no one to turn to. This guy took her in, gave her jobs, gave her a reason to keep moving. But it wasn’t a life. It was survival, barely.”

Clint leaned in, his voice lower now, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile truths being unearthed. “She was in deep. Mercenary work, hits, anything he wanted. She carried everything she owned in a backpack. She was running on scraps and rage. And the person she was back then compared to the one we know now…” He shook his head. “Night and day.”

Natasha’s expression darkened. “She was like a machine. On autopilot. He kept her that way with modified Red Room mind control.” Her voice softened, though her words cut like a blade. “Not enough to erase her, but just enough to suppress doubt, hesitation. Enough to make her compliant.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Bucky, standing slightly apart from the others, stared at the hologram of your face, his jaw clenched. His chest ached, a sick mixture of guilt and disbelief twisting in his gut.

Tony’s voice broke the quiet. “That wasn’t in her file.”

Natasha smirked bitterly. “Of course it wasn’t. Fury redacted it. He thought it would protect her if it ever came up.”

Clint’s voice dropped further, the weight of the memory heavy in his tone. “When Nat and I got her out, it was like detoxing someone from a drug. She fought us every step of the way. We had to tie her down to keep her from running back to him.”

Natasha nodded grimly. “She didn’t sleep, didn’t eat unless we forced her to. She was reciting mission protocols in her sleep like she was still under their control. It took months to bring her back to herself. And even then…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Even then, it was fragile.”

Steve’s eyes shifted to Bucky, whose hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Buck, did she ever tell you any of this?”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged slightly, his face shadowed with pain. He shook his head, his voice hoarse. “No. Not like that.” He paused, swiping a hand over his face as he blinked away tears he couldn’t stop. “She… she never pushed me to talk about my past. She let me open up in my own time, my own way.” He let out a shaky breath. “I thought… I thought she’d do the same eventually. And she did, bits and pieces. But it was always vague, like she didn’t want me to see just how bad it was.”

He looked back at the hologram, the image of your face burning into his mind. “She risked her life for me, over and over again. And I didn’t even know the extent of what she’d been through.” His voice cracked. “She deserved better than that.”

“And now,” Natasha said softly, her eyes fixed on him, “she’s back in it.”

Bucky’s head dropped, his fists clenching as he whispered, “Maybe worse this time. She’s not just surviving—she’s destroying herself. And it’s my fault.”

“Buck,” Steve said gently, but Bucky shook his head.

“I thought I was protecting her,” Bucky said, his voice louder now, trembling with emotion. “I thought pushing her away would keep her safe. But all I did was push her right back into the darkness she fought so hard to escape.”

Natasha’s voice softened further, though it carried an edge of warning. “If she’s with him again, he won’t hesitate to use that mind control on her. And if he has… there’s no telling how far she’ll go before she burns out.”

Tony paced, rubbing his temple. “We need to find this guy. Shut him down. If she’s working for him, she won’t stop until someone makes her.”

Steve straightened, his face hardening with resolve. “Then we find him. Find out where he’s operating now.”

Clint nodded, pulling out his tablet. “I can dig up some old intel. He moved a lot, but if he’s still running the same kind of jobs, I can find a pattern.”

Natasha glanced at Bucky, her tone quieter now. “We find him, and we find her. But she’s not coming back willingly, Bucky.”

Bucky lifted his head, his eyes dark and resolute. “I don’t care how far gone she is. She’s still in there, and I’m not giving up on her.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “She has to be.”

Tony tapped the screen again, zooming in on the hologram of your face. “Then we better move fast. Because from the looks of it, she’s already gone too far.”

The team exchanged grim looks, the unspoken weight of what lay ahead settling over them. For Bucky, though, there was no hesitation. No doubt. He would bring you back, no matter what it took.

The quinjet hummed softly as it cut through the night sky, a stark contrast to the tension filling the cabin. The team was locked in silent focus, each member mentally preparing for what they might find at their destination. Natasha sat at the controls, her face unreadable, though her grip on the steering controls was tighter than usual. Clint was beside her, reviewing maps and old intel on the fixer, his expression grim.

Bucky sat alone, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. His metal hand flexed and clenched rhythmically, the only outward sign of the storm raging inside him. His thoughts churned relentlessly, replaying every moment since the breakup, every mission where he’d chosen to keep his distance, every chance he had to reach out and didn’t.

Steve, seated across from him, finally broke the silence. “We’ll get her back, Buck,” he said quietly, his voice steady but reassuring. “She’s still in there. We’ll bring her home.”

Bucky didn’t look up, his jaw tightening. His voice was low, almost a whisper. “And what if we don’t?” His eyes flicked up to meet Steve’s, and they were filled with a raw vulnerability that Steve hadn’t seen in years. “What if she’s too far gone, Steve? I thought I was protecting her, keeping her safe by pushing her away. But all I did was shove her right back into the darkness.”

Steve sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You did what you thought was right. You were trying to protect her from getting hurt.”

Bucky let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “And now she’s out there, risking her life every day because I made her believe she wasn’t worth saving.” He paused, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t bring her back. If she’s too far gone…Steve if we cant get her back….”

Steve reached out, placing a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She’s not gone, Buck. She’s still in there. We’ve seen her come back from worse, and she’s stronger than you think.”

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. “I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me. Hell, I’m not sure I can forgive myself.”

Natasha’s voice cut through the cabin, calm but commanding. “We’re coming up on the last known location of the fixer. This isn’t a guarantee, but it’s our best shot.” She glanced back at Bucky, her expression softer than usual. “You’ll get your chance to fix this, Barnes. But you have to be ready. She’s not the same person you knew.”

Bucky nodded, his resolve hardening. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do whatever I have to.”

The quinjet began its descent, the lights of a small, industrial city coming into view below. Natasha expertly landed on the outskirts of the city, near an abandoned factory that matched the coordinates from her old intel. The team geared up quickly, their movements efficient and quiet.

As they approached the factory, Clint pulled up the blueprints on his tablet. “Looks like a standard setup—main entrance, back exit, and a few access points on the roof. If he’s still using this place, he’ll have guards posted. We’ll have to go in quiet.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ll take point with Clint. Steve, Bucky, cover the rear. Sam, Tony you’re our eyes in the sky.”

Bucky didn’t say a word as they moved into position, his focus entirely on the task ahead. His grip on his rifle was tight, his breathing controlled. But inside, his mind raced with what they might find.

As they entered the factory, the air was thick with dust and the faint smell of oil and metal. The sound of distant machinery hummed through the walls, but the place seemed otherwise deserted.

Clint scanned the area with his thermal scope, whispering, “Two guards up ahead, near the control room.”

Natasha nodded, and within moments, the guards were taken out silently, their bodies crumpling to the floor without a sound. The team moved deeper into the facility, tension building with every step.

Finally, they reached the main floor—a vast, open space filled with crates and scattered equipment. And there, in the center of the room, was a man seated at a desk, his back to them.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “That’s him.”

The fixer turned slowly, as if he’d been expecting them. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. He smiled, a cold, predatory grin. “Well, well. The Avengers. What an unexpected pleasure.”

Bucky stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. “Where is she?”

The fixer chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Ah, you must mean out little shadow, our ghost. Quite the asset, isn’t she? A real work of art, that one.”

Bucky’s fists clenched, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Where is she?” Steve demanded.

The fixer sighed, feigning boredom. “She comes and goes as she pleases. I simply provide the opportunities. She’s quite effective, you know. Doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t question. Just like old times.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gun trained on him. “What have you done to her?”

The fixer’s smile widened. “Only what she wanted. She came to me, broken and desperate. I gave her purpose, focus. She’s free now, free from all those messy emotions that held her back.”

Bucky’s voice shook with rage. “You didn’t free her. You turned her into a weapon.”

The fixer shrugged, unbothered. “She’s exactly where she wants to be.”

Bucky stepped forward, his voice deadly calm. “And where’s that?”

The fixer’s grin faltered for the first time. “You’ll never find her. She doesn’t want to be found.”

Bucky’s eyes burned with fury, but before he could move, Natasha pulled the trigger, shooting the fixer in the leg. He cried out, clutching his wound as he glared up at her.

“Where. Is. She?” Natasha repeated, her voice ice-cold.

The fixer coughed, blood dripping from his mouth as he chuckled weakly. “She’s already gone. But you’ll find her soon enough. If she wants you to.”

The quinjet touched down silently on the outskirts of the city. The team disembarked quickly, weapons drawn and senses on high alert. The abandoned office building loomed ahead, its shattered windows and graffiti-covered walls a testament to its long-abandoned state. Inside, though, it was anything but empty.

Tony’s voice was a low murmur as he held up his tech pad, showing the heat signatures inside. “Multiple targets on the top floor. Armed, moving in formation. Y/N’s in there, too.”

“Looks like another hit,” Natasha said grimly, her eyes scanning the building. “She’s taking out another crew.”

Bucky clenched his fists, his jaw tight. “We’re not letting her walk out of here alone.”

Natasha nodded, her voice steady. “Stay focused. We get in, neutralize the situation, and bring her back.”

The team moved as one, slipping into the building and making their way up the crumbling stairwell. The sound of muffled voices and footsteps echoed from above, the tension rising with every step. When they reached the top floor, they could hear it clearly now—the sharp commands, the clink of weapons, and then, suddenly, a scream cut short.

Tony raised his hand, signaling them to stop. He brought up the thermal view on his pad. “She’s already started.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as they crept toward the open doorway. From their vantage point, they could see you in the center of the room, moving with deadly precision. You were a blur of efficiency, taking out the armed men one by one, each movement calculated and lethal. Blood spattered across the floor and walls, and your face, but you didn’t falter.

The last two men in the room scrambled to take aim at you, but you were faster. You disarmed one with a quick twist of his wrist, driving a knife into his chest without so much as a flicker of emotion. The final man backed away, terror in his eyes as he aimed his gun at you, his hands trembling.

Before he could pull the trigger, you grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. His struggles were futile, and the sound of his choked gasps filled the air.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice rang out, desperate and raw, cutting through the chaos.

You froze, your grip tightening on the man’s throat as your eyes snapped to Bucky. For a moment, the room seemed to stand still. The team watched, their weapons drawn but hesitating, waiting to see what you would do.

You stared at Bucky, your face blank, eyes devoid of the warmth they once held. Slowly, deliberately, you tightened your grip, and without breaking eye contact with him, you snapped the man’s neck with a sickening crack. His lifeless body fell to the floor with a thud.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bucky took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. “Doll,” he said again, his voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

You stood there, blood splattered across your face, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Your eyes flicked over the rest of the team—Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, and Tony—all standing ready, but hesitant to make a move.

The room was suffocatingly silent, the air thick with tension as you stood amidst the bodies of the men you’d just killed. You looked at them—at all of them—as if they were nothing more than an inconvenience. Your once-bright eyes were now cold, lifeless, your pupils blown wide, a sharp contrast to the dim light of the room.

Sam was the first to break the silence. “Her pupils are huge,” he said, his voice low, uneasy. “That’s not normal.”

Natasha’s face tightened. She took a step forward, speaking in Russian, her tone steady but filled with quiet authority. “Ты идешь со мной, младшая сестра. (You’re coming back with me, little sister.)” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Ты сделаешь это легко или трудно? (Are you going to make this easy or hard?)”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you nudged the last man’s lifeless body with your foot, shoving him out of your way with a detached, almost bored expression. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice flat, emotionless.

“ Трудно(Hard).”

Steve sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Are we really doing this? All of us, against her?”

Natasha didn’t break her gaze from you. “No. Just me.” She reached for her baton, switching it on with a low hum of electricity. “Let me try.”

Clint, standing off to the side, silently switched the arrow in his quiver to one tipped with a sedative, his fingers steady but ready. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were locked on you, his movements precise and deliberate like he’d done this before, which of course he has.

Natasha stepped forward slowly, her baton raised but not yet striking. She muttered under her breath, almost to herself, “Дежавю. (Déjà vu.)” Then, in a softer tone, she added in Russian, “Я тебя люблю. (I love you.)”

The words didn’t even register. You moved without hesitation, launching yourself at her with lethal precision. Your first strike was a blur, and Natasha barely had time to block it with her baton. But you were faster, stronger, and more relentless than she remembered. Within seconds, you had her on the defensive, your blows landing harder and faster than she could counter.

Natasha grunted as you landed a kick to her side, sending her stumbling. “Something’s off,” she groaned, clutching her ribs as she stood. “You’re stronger than before.”

Bucky had been standing on the sidelines, his fists clenched, watching you tear through Natasha with ease. His heart broke with every blow you delivered. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward, his voice cracking slightly.

“Sweetheart, please,” he said, his voice filled with desperation. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You turned toward him, your face still expressionless, and in one swift motion, you pulled a knife from your belt and hurled it at him. Bucky’s reflexes kicked in, and he caught the blade mid-air, but the force of the throw pushed him back a step.

He dropped the knife, his hands raised in a defensive posture. “I’m not going to fight you,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes. “But I’m not letting you hurt anyone else.”

You didn’t hesitate, launching yourself at him. Bucky blocked every strike, his movements precise, never once retaliating. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you gave him no choice but to defend himself.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted over his shoulder as he deflected another of your attacks. “It’s the serum! She’s got some kind of super-soldier serum!”

Steve’s eyes widened, his grip tightening on his shield. Sam glanced at Clint, who still had his bow drawn. “Will that sedative arrow even work on her if she’s got the serum?”

Clint shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

He loosed the arrow, and it flew toward you, but you moved faster than expected, catching it mid-air. The tip still grazed your arm, injecting just enough of the sedative to make you falter slightly. You wobbled for a second, your movements sluggish, but it wasn’t enough to stop you. You turned the arrow back around, flinging it directly at Clint with lethal precision.

Steve’s shield flew through the air just in time, blocking the arrow before it could hit Clint. The sound of metal striking the arrowhead echoed through the room, but before anyone could make another move, Tony stepped forward, his repulsor glowing.

“This is enough,” Tony said, his voice cold and decisive. He raised his hand, preparing to knock you out.

But before he could fire, Natasha, now back on her feet, grabbed a heavy metal pole from the wreckage around them. She moved quickly, her face set with grim determination.

You turned back toward Bucky, ready to swing at him again, your eyes still filled with that cold, mechanical focus. But Natasha was faster. She swung the pole with all her strength, aiming for the side of your head.

The impact was immediate. Your eyes widened briefly before your body went limp, collapsing to the floor in an unconscious heap.

The room was silent except for the sound of everyone’s heavy breathing. Bucky dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he gently cradled your head.

Natasha dropped the pole, her chest heaving as she looked down at you, a mixture of relief and sorrow in her eyes. “Я сожалею, сестра. (I’m sorry, sister.),” she whispered softly.

Steve stepped forward, his shield still in hand. “Let’s get her back to the jet. We’ve got work to do.”

[satorusluver]

Duke!Nanami x maid!reader

Minors DNI

This takes place in the same AU as my Prince Gojo drabble (except the reader isn't with both of them, idk think of it like otome routes lol)

Word count: 700 ish

Tags/warnings: oral (f receiving), male masturbation, uhh idk I can't think of any others I'm tired lol

The difference between Duke Kento Nanami and Crown Prince Satoru falling in love with a servant girl is that Kento wouldn't dare risk getting you pregnant. He is practical, mature, and most of all, selfless. He knows it would ruin your reputation and leave you a single mother because he could never be with you officially, and he could never risk doing that to his precious girl.

So instead he settles for sneaking you into his room (something that's easier for him than it would be for the prince because he isn't nearly as important as the future king) late at night for...less risky activities. Kento's bed is softer and more extravagant than anything your commoner body has ever experienced, with downy feather pillows and sheets of satin embroidered with gold trim, and he often lays you down on it and spreads your plush thighs to feast on your cunt like it's the finest dessert, until your legs are shaking and your cum stains those expensive sheets. Kento is a giver, not a taker. Of course, he enjoys letting you please him with your hands or mouth. But ultimately, your pleasure is his pleasure, and he's quite content with making you fall apart on his tongue.

Occasionally, though, he'll allow himself to indulge a little, rubbing his swollen cockhead through your slick folds, grinding the underside of it and against your overstimulated clit. But even he sometimes struggles with his self-control. One time he shifts a little too far back and the tip of his cock ends up right up against your entrance, just barely pressing into it. Kento clenches his jaw and digs his fingers into the sheets, imagining how good it would feel to be completely enveloped in you, to feel your tight walls hugging and squeezing his cock, to finally be one with you like he's always dreamed of.

Kento's eyes flick to your face, to your blissed out expression, your ruddy cheeks, your parted lips, your glossed over eyes and the sheer desire radiating off of you. And he knows he could do it, he could just slide his achingly hard length into your warm, welcoming cunt and you wouldn't stop him. And he takes a deep breath, and then he just....pulls away and rolls over next to you on the bed.

You ask if he's okay, and he says yes, he's fine. You ask him if he wants you to do something to help relieve the ache in his throbbing cock, and he says no, he's fine, and that he thinks it's best if you go ahead and return to the servants quarters now. You look up at him, your head tilting in confusion and your eyes filling with worry. So he presses a kiss to your temple and reassures you that everything really is alright, that he's just getting a headache - and besides, the longer you stay, the more likely someone will notice you missing from your bed.

You still seem a bit hesitant, but you redress yourself and leave his chambers with one last glance back at Kento, who gives you a warm, reassuring smile. And the moment you're gone, Kento throws his head back against the pillow with a pained groan, his hand slipping under the sheets to grip his cock tight - as tight as he imagines your sweet pussy must be. He strokes himself from base to tip, eyes closed and pretending it was you moving up and down on him, remembering the heavenly sounds you made as you came on his tongue and wondering if you'd make those same sounds when you came on his dick.

The sight of your naked body is still fresh in his mind, helping him hurdle toward his climax with each increasingly desperate pump of his hand. And when he cums, he cums hard, moaning out your name and fucking up into his first as the pearly ropes of his thick release spill over onto his hand and abs. And when the exhaustion sets in as his high begins to fade, Kento breathes a sigh of relief that it's only him who has to deal with the aftermath of his pleasure.

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (9)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 5.6k

________________

The air in the Undercity had always felt heavy, but tonight, it was different. It was like the weight of the world was just a little lighter, as though the very ground beneath your feet had shifted in subtle ways. You walked along the outskirts of the city with purpose, your cloak drawn around you, hiding the glowing remnants of your eyes beneath the fabric’s shadow. Your hand was in Isha’s, her tiny fingers clasped around yours, her energy a contrast to your quietude. She skipped ahead, her enthusiasm infectious, pointing at the little lights that flickered throughout the ruins of the Undercity. The children, the ones who ran freely through the streets, were a reminder of what was still worth protecting in this place.

Behind you, Caitlyn and Jinx followed, though they kept their distance—Jinx was filled with excitement, her eyes darting from you to Isha as the girl pulled you along like a little magnet. Caitlyn, though quieter, remained steadfast, her gaze ever so watchful over the group. She had grown accustomed to seeing this side of you, but there was still something about it that made her heart ache. This wasn’t the person you used to be—not the one who had fought, struggled, and often retreated into darkness—but a gentler version, one who had learned the value of peace and healing.

As you continued your walk, you could feel the weight of the moment. You were here to make a change—one that started with the children. The orphans who lived and played here, in the field by the ruins, had little in the way of hope. But here, now, with every step you took, you felt something stirring in you—an unwavering determination to bring peace to those who needed it most.

When you reached the field, the children were scattered, laughing and playing among the debris. There was joy here, simple and untamed, like a breath of fresh air that hadn’t been stifled yet by the harshness of the world. But it wasn’t just joy that you saw in their eyes—it was hope. Hope that things could be better.

Your gaze swept across them, glowing gray eyes taking in every detail, and then a small figure limped toward you, his steps slow but steady. You knelt in front of him, your hand outstretched, waiting for him to come closer. His face was drawn, his tiny body wearing the marks of a life already heavy with struggle. When he reached you, he looked up, his eyes wide, filled with wonder and a quiet sadness that you couldn’t ignore.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your voice soft, the words almost like a whisper between you both.

The boy hesitated before answering, his voice barely above a murmur. “Milo.”

You smiled down at him, your eyes locking with his, and in that moment, something passed between you—something unspoken, something that made the air around you feel warmer. His eyes shimmered, glistening with unshed tears, and he gave a shaky smile. His lips parted, but before he could speak, you leaned closer, your tone gentle but cryptic.

“If I bring you peace, will you spread it?”

Milo looked up at you, confusion clouding his features for a moment, then he nodded, a single tear falling down his cheek. “I will… I promise.”

You wrapped your arms around him gently, pulling him into a soft embrace. The feeling of his small body against yours, of a life weighed down by the world’s cruelty, made your chest ache. Slowly, you placed one hand on his leg, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your touch. Your eyes closed, and as you focused on the energy that surged through your veins, a soft glow began to emerge around the two of you, lighting up the field like a beacon of hope.

The light that enveloped you both was bright, pure, almost blinding. For a moment, it was as if the world around you had frozen in place. Jinx and Caitlyn stood by your side, eyes wide with a mix of awe and confusion, but they couldn’t see what you saw. They couldn’t feel what you felt.

But Isha saw. She blinked away the brightness, her small face lit with confusion and then awe as she sprinted toward you. When the light faded and you stood, a soft gasp escaped from Isha’s lips. Milo, the small boy who had limped toward you, was now standing tall, his face lit with joy. He laughed, and within moments, he was running back to the other children, joining their play, free of the burden that had weighed him down.

Jinx and Caitlyn watched him, their mouths slightly open, unsure of what had just happened. But you simply stood there, your hand outstretched, waiting for them to understand.

“He was dying,” you said, your voice quiet. “Cancer. He had only a few weeks left. But now, he has more time. Time to grow, to live. Time to spread the peace I gave him.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed, her gaze moving from you to the boy and back again. “You healed him? But… how? I saw nothing wrong with him…”

You smiled, the glow still lingering in your eyes as you looked down at your hand. A faint pulse of light pulsed beneath your skin, and you raised your hand to reveal the faintest dark shimmer, like the shadows of the world had found their way into your touch.

“His body was dimming,” you said, your voice calm but heavy with the weight of understanding. “The darkness had already begun to consume him. But the light I gave him… it countered that darkness. He will live now. For a while. Until it’s his time.”

Jinx looked at you, her eyes wide, not quite understanding but in awe nonetheless. “So you… just healed him like that? No effort?”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t without effort. But he needed something more than just medicine. He needed something that could only come from peace… and love. The kind that heals what can’t be seen.”

The wind shifted slightly, rustling your cloak as the children’s laughter echoed in the distance. It felt like the world was slowly turning, beginning to right itself. And though there was still so much to be done, in this moment, for the first time, you truly believed that peace—your peace—was possible.

You watched as Milo joined the other children, playing without the limp that once held him back, and your chest swelled with a quiet joy. This was the beginning. The first step. The start of something new.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Caitlyn and Jinx stood by your side, their gazes unwavering. They didn’t need to speak to understand that this moment—this quiet victory—meant something far greater than just healing one child. It was the first ripple in a much larger change. One that would spread across Piltover, across the Undercity. Across the world.

And as the night settled in, you knew that whatever came next, you were ready for it. Together, you could change the world.

Weeks passed, and the world seemed to breathe a little easier. There were still struggles, still moments of hardship, but for the first time, there was hope in the Undercity. You had healed lives—children, families, those burdened by pain. Your touch brought peace. It wasn’t just the physical ailments you had mended, but the broken spirits, the shattered hearts. The people began to see the shift, the change. The city was starting to wake from its long, oppressive slumber.

But something was changing within you.

You couldn’t ignore it.

The light inside you—the energy that once burned bright and fierce—began to flicker, dimming in ways you couldn’t understand. At first, it was small. A slight heaviness in your chest. A brief twinge of discomfort when you healed someone too long or too deeply. Then came the limping. A soft ache that lingered in your legs, one you’d try to hide from Jinx and Caitlyn. They didn’t need to worry. They had enough on their plates. But the pain grew, slowly at first, like a quiet shadow that refused to be ignored.

You kept your distance, locking yourself away when the feeling became too much to bear. You stayed hidden from everyone, away from the light, the sounds, the calls for you. Isha, the one who had always been so full of energy and life, began to ask for you. She’d run to your door, her small hands knocking urgently, her lips trembling when she couldn’t find you.

“Where’s Spark? Where’s Spark?” her big eyes scanning the streets.

But you stayed inside, and the world outside continued without you.

Until one evening, Jinx and Caitlyn couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The distance between you was growing too large for them to pretend it wasn’t there. They exchanged worried glances, but neither of them had the answers. So, they made a decision together. They would figure out what was happening to you. No more avoiding the truth. No more pretending.

The two of them met at the base of your apartment, looking up at the rooftop. Caitlyn’s face was full of resolve, her jaw set tight. Jinx, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the fear that danced in her wild, chaotic eyes. She was nervous. You’d always been her constant, her tether to reality. But now… something was wrong. Too much had changed too fast.

They climbed the stairs to your apartment, the silence between them stretching thick in the air. When they reached your door, Caitlyn’s hand paused on the handle.

“Are you ready?” she asked, though her voice barely disguised her concern.

Jinx didn’t answer right away. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing on her chest. After everything you’d done, everything you’d been through, she didn’t want to face the possibility that you were slipping away. But she nodded. “Yeah… let’s go.”

The door creaked open.

You were there, slumped against the wall in a corner of your room, unconscious. The sight hit them like a cold slap to the face. You weren’t moving. You weren’t breathing as you should be. There was something so wrong about the stillness in the air that made both Caitlyn and Jinx’s hearts skip a beat.

“Oh no… no, no, no…” Jinx whispered, rushing to your side. Her hands shook as she cradled your face, her lips trembling with every word. “Come on, Spark. Wake up. Please.”

Caitlyn immediately pushed her aside. There was no time to waste.

“Call Ekko. Now!” she ordered, her voice sharp with urgency.

Jinx didn’t hesitate. She scrambled to the rooftop, her mind racing as she fumbled with the flare gun in her hands. Without thinking, she fired three flares—blue, green, and red—into the sky. They illuminated the night, streaking through the darkness with a silent cry for help.

The seconds felt like hours as Jinx paced on the rooftop, her heart hammering in her chest. But finally, a distant hoverboard cut through the night air, its low hum filling the empty spaces around them. Ekko arrived, his face tight with concern, his eyes flicking between the two women before settling on you.

Without wasting another moment, he rushed to your side, lifting you with ease and placing you on the hoverboard. The engine hummed louder as he pushed it forward, a blur of motion as he sped toward the laboratory—the place where it all began. The place where you had become more than you were. The place where he, along with Heimerdinger, had watched you fight and grow.

But now, it was a place where only questions remained.

Ekko arrived, his heart racing as he carefully laid you on the table in the familiar lab. The machines hummed quietly, blinking sporadically as the staff rushed to assist him. Heimerdinger was already there, eyes wide with alarm. The tiny scientist darted around, his thoughts moving faster than his hands as he began to assess the situation.

“What happened to her?” Heimerdinger asked, more to himself than anyone else.

Ekko didn’t have an answer. He could only look at you, the woman who had once stood tall and resolute, now pale and unresponsive. He clenched his fists in frustration.

Jinx and Caitlyn stood behind, their worry palpable in the air, each of them watching you like you were already lost. The fear in Jinx’s eyes was hard to hide, and Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, trying to hold herself together.

But it wasn’t just worry that lingered in the room—it was confusion. The peace you had brought to the world now seemed to have a price, one that no one understood.

Heimerdinger adjusted his glasses, scanning your vitals on the screen.

“Her condition is… troubling,” he murmured, his voice thick with concern. “She’s not just physically drained… there’s something else going on here.”

Ekko stepped forward, watching as the scientist fiddled with the machines. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a strange fluctuation in her neural activity,” Heimerdinger said, his tone low and cautious. “It’s as if something is siphoning her energy from the inside out. This isn’t just exhaustion or trauma… it’s something much more complex.”

Jinx’s voice trembled as she spoke up, “What are you saying? Is she gonna—?”

“We don’t know yet,” Heimerdinger interrupted, his gaze focused on the screen. “But if we don’t figure this out soon, we may lose her for good.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, her hands clenched at her sides. “We can’t lose her. We just got her back.”

There was silence as everyone stared at the still figure of the woman who had given so much of herself for the world. Everyone in the room knew that they couldn’t let this be the end.

Back in the darkness, you still drifted.

Viktor’s voice echoed softly, a guiding whisper in the abyss. You had heard it before, but now, it felt different. He was close, yet impossibly far away. The world felt as though it was slipping from your grasp.

“You are not lost,” Viktor’s voice said, his words reverberating through the void. “This is just another test. The power inside you… it requires balance. But you will find it. You must.”

You didn’t understand. You didn’t know how much more you could endure.

But Viktor was right.

“Come,” he whispered, “You’re almost there. It’s not the end, it’s the beginning. Let go of the pain. Embrace the change.”

And with those words, you felt something stir within you once more.

The Abyss was silent, its vast emptiness pressing in on you as you followed Viktor, each step heavier than the last. You had been walking beside him for what felt like eternity, the flickering light of his riddles casting strange shadows on the edges of your mind. His words were endless, a constant flow of cryptic phrases that swirled around you like the smoke from a dying fire. You didn’t always understand, but you trusted him, didn’t you?

You had to, right?

But something was changing in you. With each step, you could feel the weight of the truth slipping into your mind, a whisper that grew louder with each passing moment.

His voice broke the silence again, cool and calculated. “You’ve done well, you know. You have the power, the ability to make this world what it could be… if only you accept your role.”

You tilted your head, listening closely, trying to read the layers of meaning behind his words. “What role?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with hesitation. The riddles were becoming harder to piece together.

He smiled, a cruel curve of his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “To be my right hand. Together, we will make the world a better place… for me.”

And in that moment, everything clicked.

The puzzle pieces you’d been trying to fit together for so long finally fell into place, and with them, the truth crashed over you like a tidal wave.

You were never meant to be the healer.

No, you were a tool. A pawn. A pawn in Viktor’s game. Everything you had done, everything you had healed, was never about bringing peace to the world. It was about him—his vision, his hunger for power.

You had been draining yourself. You were fueling him.

The realization struck you like lightning. Every time you healed, every time you gave of yourself, you were siphoning away your own life force to feed the darkness inside him. The shimmering light you had believed to be your gift, your purpose, had been nothing more than a leash wrapped around your soul, a way for Viktor to use your power for his own means.

You felt sick.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively shot to your chest, feeling the emptiness inside. The energy you had thought was yours, the hope you’d built in the Undercity… it had all been nothing but a mask. You weren’t a savior. You were the fuel for his twisted ambitions.

As Viktor continued, his voice so smug and assured, you felt the rage stir in you, igniting like a wildfire in your chest. “You don’t understand,” he continued with his usual calm tone, oblivious to the storm brewing in you. “You think you’re healing the world, but it was always going to be this way. I have always known, and now… you know too.”

The world around you seemed to collapse, like a lens cracking under pressure. And then, Viktor’s voice rose to a higher pitch. “You’re mine. You always have been. You’ve helped me become who I was meant to be. And now… you’ll help me bring this world into its true order.”

At that moment, your anger burned hotter than anything you’d ever known. Every instinct in you screamed to fight, to break free. Your mind was no longer foggy with the effects of manipulation—it was clear. Your eyes, once a dull gray, burned with a fierce purple hue. The rage bubbled up inside you, taking form in a wave of violent energy.

“No.” Your voice was low and dangerous, a rumble that shook the very ground beneath you. “It’s time you learned how the real world works.”

Without warning, you charged.

Viktor’s smug smile vanished in an instant, his eyes widening as you barreled toward him. He tried to sidestep, but the sheer force of your anger knocked him back. You tackled him with all the power you could muster, sending his body crashing to the ground with an impact that reverberated through the Abyss.

In the chaos of that moment, something strange happened.

The connection between your body in the Abyss and your real form was severed for the briefest of moments. You felt yourself slipping back into your body, as though you were being pulled from the depths of this nightmare and thrust back into your skin.

Your eyes flashed open, the familiar white-hot pain of being pulled back into the physical world filling your senses. The laboratory rushed into view, the cool metallic walls and the quiet hum of machines.

But Viktor wasn’t the only one who had been affected.

The collision between you and him broke through the veil of reality, and everything around you seemed to slow to a crawl. In the lab, Ekko’s eyes widened as he watched you struggle against Viktor’s influence, the purple light in your eyes flashing brighter, more intense with each passing second. He knew something was wrong—this wasn’t just another manipulation. This was a battle for your soul.

The machines beeped and whirred as the flares—red, green, and blue—shot up into the sky from the laboratory roof. The emergency signals cut through the air, the city skyline illuminated by the light, a cry for help that reached the farthest corners of Piltover and the Undercity.

Jinx, Caitlyn, and Sevika all saw the flares, and the urgency in the air could no longer be ignored. They began to move, quickly, toward the one place they knew you would be—back to where everything had started.

In the Abyss, the world around you swirled as you dropped Viktor onto the cold ground. His form crumpled, but he wasn’t down for long. He stood quickly, his body moving with mechanical precision as he got into his stance, prepared for the standoff that would follow.

His voice was calm, but there was a hint of frustration in it now. “You don’t understand,” he hissed. “You can’t defeat me. I have been planning this for too long. Your role in this is… already written.”

But you were no longer the same person you had been. The calm, peaceful soul who had once healed the world had been replaced by something far more dangerous. You were a force of nature now, and Viktor’s riddles had no power over you.

The ground trembled as you squared off against him, your purple eyes glowing brighter than ever, the energy crackling in the air around you.

“I’m not your pawn anymore,” you spat, your voice laced with venom. “This is where your game ends.”

And with that, you lunged forward, the energy around you crackling like electricity, ready to rewrite the world.

In the laboratory, Ekko watched, his heart racing as he pressed a button, setting off the alarms. The flares were only the beginning—he needed to make sure everyone knew the stakes. Jinx, Caitlyn, and Sevika were already on their way.

But would they make it in time? Would they be able to save you from the darkness that Viktor had sewn so deeply into your soul?

The world held its breath.

The roar of the explosion ripped through the air, sending a shockwave that reverberated across the bridge between Piltover and the Undercity. Jinx, Caitlyn, and Sevika sprinted toward the lab, their hearts pounding in their chests. Just as the building’s rooftop came into view, a massive sphere of fire erupted into the sky, the shockwave hurling them back several feet. 

Jinx hit the ground hard, shielding Isha from debris. Caitlyn groaned as she pushed herself to her feet, her hand instinctively going to the rifle slung over her back. Sevika stood, using her metal arm to shield her face from the heat. The three froze, their eyes widening as a figure descended in the chaos—a dark mass flung from the rooftop like a meteor crashing to earth.

The ball of fire slammed into the street several meters away, the impact sending dirt and smoke spiraling into the air. Caitlyn coughed, waving her hand in front of her face to clear the debris. Jinx pulled Isha closer, her pulse racing as she tried to see through the haze.

Out of the smoldering wreckage, they could just barely make out Viktor. His body was limp, sprawled in a heap on the cracked pavement. His once pristine metal enhancements sparked erratically, the eerie glow of his Hexcore flickering weakly. He coughed, blood trickling from his lips, and his eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious.

Then, from the smoke, a shadow emerged.

The ground trembled beneath your feet as you walked forward, dragging Viktor by his hair, his lifeless limbs trailing behind him. The smoke clung to you like a veil, your hood fallen back to reveal the grim determination etched into your face. Your glowing purple eyes pierced through the haze, bright and menacing, a color that sent a chill down the spines of everyone watching.

Jinx froze, her breath catching in her throat. Caitlyn’s hand tightened around her weapon, but she didn’t raise it. Sevika stood still, her mechanical arm twitching slightly, as if ready to intervene but unsure how. 

The laboratory doors burst open, and Ekko and Heimerdinger rushed out, skidding to a halt at the sight before them. The once calm, composed healer they had come to know was now an embodiment of raw fury. 

You stopped in the middle of the street, the smoke swirling around you like a storm. With one swift motion, you flung Viktor’s body forward, letting it slump to the ground in front of everyone. His head lolled to the side, his eyes half-lidded as he coughed weakly, too broken to speak. 

You straightened, your chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. Your voice cut through the tension like a blade, low and sharp: 

"All my life, I’ve been a pawn. Used. Manipulated. You all saw me as a beacon, as hope—but behind every step I took, there was someone like him pulling the strings." You gestured to Viktor with disgust, your voice rising as anger surged through you. 

"He wanted me to believe I was making a difference. Healing lives. Bringing peace. But all I was doing was fueling his ambition, killing myself for his vision."

You turned, your piercing gaze locking onto each person in the crowd. “No more. No one will take what I love from me. No one will take who I love from me. Not him, not anyone. I am not a pawn anymore.”

Jinx’s fingers twitched, her usual chaotic energy replaced with an uncharacteristic stillness. Caitlyn’s lips parted as she watched you, her heart sinking at the sight of your pain and anger. Ekko took a cautious step forward, but Heimerdinger stopped him, shaking his head gravely.

The tension snapped like a bowstring as Viktor stirred, groaning weakly. You turned back to him, your expression darkening. His lips curled into a defiant smirk, despite his broken state. “You… don’t understand…” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “You can’t… stop this… I am the future.”

You didn’t reply with words. Instead, you lunged at him, your fist colliding with his chest in a burst of purple and gold light. The force of the blow sent him skidding back across the ground, sparks flying from his metallic limbs.

The fight was on.

Viktor rose unsteadily, his Hexcore flaring to life as he charged at you with surprising speed. The clash of power lit up the street like a firework display, bright flashes of purple and electric blue reflecting in the wide eyes of the onlookers. Each punch you landed sent a ripple of energy through the air, shaking the ground beneath your feet. 

But Viktor wasn’t defenseless. His metallic arm shot out, striking you in the ribs with enough force to make you stagger. A spray of purple blood escaped your lips, splattering onto the ground. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, your eyes narrowing as the swirling violet in your irises deepened.

The blows came faster, more brutal. Viktor’s movements were calculated, precise, but you were driven by raw emotion, your strikes fueled by years of pain, betrayal, and rage. Each hit you landed cracked the air like thunder, while every counterattack from Viktor sent shards of pain lancing through your body.

The crowd watched in stunned silence. Jinx clutched Isha tightly, her nails digging into the girl’s small shoulders as she tried to hold back tears. Caitlyn’s hands shook as she held her rifle, torn between stepping in and trusting you to handle this. 

Finally, Viktor staggered back, his energy faltering. His Hexcore dimmed, the once-bright light within it reduced to a flicker. You stood tall, bloodied and bruised, but unyielding. 

“You wanted a future,” you said, your voice cold and steady. “But I’m going to make sure you’re not part of it.”

With a final surge of energy, you raised your hand, a swirl of purple and white light gathering in your palm. Viktor’s eyes widened as he realized what was coming, but he was too weak to stop it.

The light exploded from your hand, engulfing him in a blinding flash. When it faded, Viktor lay motionless on the ground, his body battered and broken. 

You turned to the crowd, your breathing heavy, your purple eyes still glowing with residual energy. “This is not the end,” you said, your voice softer now but no less resolute. “We will rebuild. We will heal. But I will never let anyone control me again.”

As the others began to move toward you cautiously, Jinx and Caitlyn exchanged a glance. Whatever came next, they knew this was only the beginning of a new chapter in your story.

The aftermath was deafeningly silent. Viktor's body lay motionless on the ground, faint sparks sputtering from his lifeless Hexcore. Smoke curled in the air, and the acrid scent of burning ozone clung to everything. You stood there, the faint hum of energy still radiating from your battered form. But something was wrong.

Your knees buckled suddenly, and you collapsed to the ground. A sharp gasp escaped you as your body convulsed, the familiar glow of electric purple flickering in your veins. It clashed violently with streaks of white light, the two energies warring for dominance within you.

Jinx took an instinctive step forward, her eyes wide with panic. “No—hey, hey! You’re okay, right? You’re fine!” She reached for you, but you raised a trembling hand to stop her, your voice hoarse but firm.

"Stay back," you rasped, your words a command, laced with the strain of holding yourself together.

Caitlyn, despite her usual composure, found herself stepping forward as well, desperation flickering in her blue eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone—”

"Don’t come near me!" you bellowed, your voice cracking with the weight of your anguish. The sound echoed off the broken walls of the laboratory, freezing everyone in their tracks. The pain in your tone was palpable, and it cut through Caitlyn like a knife.

Heimerdinger stepped forward, his small frame trembling as he analyzed the glow emanating from your body. His voice was calm but grave. “They mustn’t interfere. The Arcane and shimmer within you… they’re battling for dominance. If she falters now, she could lose herself entirely.”

Your head dropped, your hands digging into the dirt as your body shook. The fight inside you was tearing you apart. White light flashed in your eyes one moment, then the ominous purple the next, each consuming the other in rapid succession. The chaotic struggle of colors made the veins on your hands and neck stand out, glowing like rivers of raw energy.

Minutes passed like hours. Jinx clenched her fists so tightly her nails drew blood, her whole body trembling with the effort not to run to you. Caitlyn’s heart thundered painfully in her chest as she whispered, “Please... don’t let go.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the glow began to fade. The clashing lights dimmed until a quiet stillness settled over you. Your head drooped forward, your breathing ragged. Slowly, you lifted your face, revealing your eyes. They were the soft gray of before, calm and steady, but with faint swirls of violet threading through them—a reminder of the battle you’d just survived.

You groaned softly, lifting a hand to your head, and then, as if on instinct, you smiled. It wasn’t a grin fueled by bravado or defiance, but something softer, something real. Your lips curled into a teasing smirk as you shook your head faintly.

"God, it feels good to be back," you said, your voice hoarse but full of warmth.

Jinx’s knees gave out as tears streamed down her cheeks. She half-laughed, half-sobbed, covering her mouth as she sank to the ground. Caitlyn let out a shaky breath, her lips parting in disbelief. Sevika crossed her arms, exhaling sharply as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time.

Ekko knelt beside Heimerdinger, whispering, “She did it.”

The old yordle nodded slowly, stroking his mustache with relief. “Indeed. She’s won her first battle… but the war may not yet be over.”

Despite the exhaustion weighing on you, your smile grew as you turned your gaze to Jinx and Caitlyn. You lifted a hand weakly, gesturing them closer. “You two gonna just stand there, or are you finally gonna help me up?” you joked.

The two women exchanged glances before rushing forward, each taking a side to lift you to your feet. Jinx’s grip on your arm was firm but trembling, while Caitlyn’s touch was steady, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. You looked between them, your smile softening.

"I told you I’d come back," you murmured, earning a choked laugh from Jinx and a watery smile from Caitlyn.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, peace settled over you—fragile, perhaps temporary, but it was there. 

As you stood there, the soft gray of your eyes clouded by tears, you pulled both Jinx and Caitlyn into your arms. They didn’t resist, their own tears falling freely. For a moment, the world melted away, and it was just the three of you—together, alive, and whole. Then your gaze shifted to Isha, standing a few feet away, her helmet tilted as if she were hesitating.  

You knelt despite your exhaustion, opening your arms toward her. Isha hesitated only for a second before running into your embrace. You lifted her with trembling strength, holding her close to your chest. She nuzzled against you, her tiny hands clutching your shoulders.  

That’s when it hit you—a wave of emotion you could no longer hold back. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but they weren’t ordinary tears. They shimmered faintly, streaks of electric purple and silver falling like liquid stardust. You buried your face against Isha’s helmet, shaking with quiet sobs as Jinx and Caitlyn rested their hands on your back, grounding you.  

You whispered through your tears, “I’m here. I’m finally here.” 

The silence was heavy but comforting as they helped you to your feet. Jinx moved to your left, Caitlyn to your right, and Isha nestled against your chest. Together, they supported you as you made your way down the debris-laden streets toward your apartment.  

--------------------

Problem solved.....right? Vik had to GO idc, my girl jinx would be alive RN if it wasnt for- ight lemme chill

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Balé Bruce taking female readers virginity? It can be headcanon or story. Ty!

Bruce taking your virginity ♡

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A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long, please forgive me 😭🩷 this is like a weird merge between headcannons and a story lol

《Warnings》: smut (obvi), very sweet and gentle Bruce <3

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To say he'd be gentle would be an understatement. You'll be treated as absolutely royalty, touches so soft and tender you can barely feel them.

He'd be extremely honored and giddy that you want him to be your first. The fact that you trust him so much despite his reputation makes his heart beat faster and his cock twitch.

It's safe to say he's not a virgin, and boy, does he know what he's doing!!

He'd take you out on a nice date first, most likely a very nice restaurant. Bruce wasn't usually the romantic type when it came to relationships (if you can even call them that) but he loves you, truly loves you, and he wants to make this special for you.

I don't think he'd go the full 9 yards with rose petals and candles, but it's definitely still a very soft and romantic atmosphere.

Bruce would be insistent that you don't have a single sip of alcohol that night. Yes, you've been together for a while, but this is a big step, and he wants to make 10000% sure that this is what you want. No drinks for either of you that night.

So, he'd take you out on a fun night, have you get all dolled up and then drive around with you for a bit, the lights of a Gotham night reflecting in the windows of his very expensive car. Just something to take the edge off.

You're obviously very comfortable around each other, and he's probably seen you naked at one point anyway, but sex is a completely new form of intimacy.

He'd help you undress and place soft kisses on your skin. You'd lay in bed for a while, not completely naked yet, but still very much undressed. Just enjoying each other's company while the flame of lust and desperation slowly grows and grows. Maybe he'd tell you some of his weird or embarrassing sex stories that he (undoubtedly) had at one point just to make you less nervous.

Sex can be messy, clumsy, ungraceful, and sloppy. He wants you to know that there's nothing to be ashamed about and to always voice and concerns or wishes you may have.

He's gently caressing the skin of your arm as you both lay on your sides, facing each other, as you talk about whatever comes to mind. There's a little lamp on in the corner of the room, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

He can't help but stare in awe as he follows the light reflecting off your features as your lips move. His hand trails lower, settling on stroking your waist, and when he hears you stop talking he searches for any sign of discomfort on your face but is only met with blushed cheeks and your breathing slightly picking up.

Bruce smiles softly and and gently tugs you closer to his chest, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. There are wandering hands, clumsy attempts at keeping your lips connected and the overwhelming urge to just touch. He'd ask you one final time if you're sure about this, that he would stop immediately if you asked him to.

The second you give him the go-ahead, he's almost bursting with excitement. He can't wait to explore this new side of you to figure out what you like and what makes you weak in the knees. His hands explore your body, caressing and teasing your sensitive spots whole his lips are attached to your neck.

He tugs off any remaining garments you had on and makes his way down your stomach, brushing his lips over your soft flesh. And, yes, he will eat you out for your first time (definitely not because he's a munch and has been thinking about this for months) maybe he'd make you come on his tongue, but he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he'll just tease you and rile you up until you're dripping with a fog of pleasure clouding your senses.

He'll gently ease his fingers inside of you one by one, getting you used to the feeling of having something inside of you. He'll switch between holding your hand and circling your clit with his thumb. He watches your face like a hawk for any indication that you're uncomfortable or, god forbid, in any pain.

And if you end up coming around his fingers, that's okay. He didn't really set himself any goals for this, like getting 5 orgasms out of you in 10 minutes or anything like that, he just wants you to feel good and loved.

If you don't come around his fingers, that's okay, too. What happens, happens, what doesn't, doesn't. As long as you're satisfied in the end, he doesn't care.

Expect to get like a thousand kisses and him telling you how much he loves you every second.

Bruce insists on missionary (it's his favorite position, but only with you) because the closeness and intimacy is very important to him during your first time. He will always have a safe word, it'll be just stop most of the time. It's easy to remember because it's the first thing you think of when it gets too much anyway.

Because, let's be honest, you're not gonna remember rhubarb-vanilla crumble or something ridiculous like that.

He's been ignoring his raging hard-on, purely because he just can't take his eyes off you. You look absolutely divine underneath him, your pretty features contorted in bliss. He's already been making mental notes to what really makes you melt. And then the moment finally arrives and he gently pushes himself inside of you, tightly grasping your hand.

Communication is really important to him (not only during sex) so I'm afraid you won't get any kisses until he's 100% sure that you're okay. He needs to hear you loud and clear, whether you want him to slow down, start moving, to angle his hips differently. This is all about you tonight.

But the second he's found a good and steady rhythm and has you mewling with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, he's smashing his lips on yours. Bruce would lay his entire weight on you, chests pressed together because he needs to be closer to you. It's not close enough for him, but it'll have to do.

But don't think this isn't affecting him, sex with love is way different than the hook-ups he had. He's panting like a dog, messy hair and dilated pupils. He's absolutely drowning in pleasure, reaching the deepest parts of you while your fingers are still firmly laced together. He'd be very insistent that you come together (he's probably the one that has to hold himself back) and he'd stroke your clit or suck on your tits, whatever tips you over the edge.

I believe the closer he gets to coming undone, the more incoherent babbles of love spill from his lips. It's all desperate and needy "I love you"s in between moans and groans. There are definitely night where he was more control, but this one is not one of them.

After he's brought you earthshattering bliss, and he tiped over the edge himself (he'd preferably come inside of you, but he wouldn't mind pulling out if that's what you wanted) he'll lay down with you. There's no rush, just the two of you gently coming out of your haze of pleasure.

Bruce can't ever shut up, which makes him the king of pillowtalk. You'll just take for a little while, make sure you're both okay before it's time to clean up and get ready for bed.

Depending on how deep you're into the evening, he'll either gently wipe you down with either a damp towel, make sure you're both getting some water, or he'll straight up pamper you with a full bath. I'm talking candles, bubbles, lots of differently scented soaps, and ,of course, his arms around you.

It's all very intimate and loving with tons of soft kisses to your temples, forehead or lips. After you're dried off, you'll help each other slip into your sleep attire before absolutely knocking out for a good 9 hours and waking up in the loving embrace of your lover with the sun kissing your cheeks.

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Hope you liked it, anon! <3

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

Lmk if you want to be added to my DC tag list! (Currently entails Bale!Bruce and Jason Todd)

[irisintheafterglow]

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” 

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!” 

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[romana-after-dark]

Imagine Raider!Cult!Joel...

Dub con, public sex, ritualistic sex, bukake, Tommy watches <3 gay shit ahead if you want more

We love raider Joel don't we??

So many wonderful version of him!!!

I've written a few, playing with different dynamics and I've seen sooooo many cool ideas. Such a creative and fun fandom

but imagine Joel as a raider doing pretty well for himself. He finds people respect him. He's capable, smart, calm... and handsome.

Maybe Tommy is his right hand man. Definetly the most personalable while Joel remains mysterious. He gathers a small following, mostly of men but some families. Maybe they settle somewhere, but they never stop raiding.

Thing is theres just sooooooooo many helpless people out there!!! Orphans he finds families to take care of them, and they contribute to the group in their own ways. Young men he trains so they can be raiders. Most are able to learn, to push aside that guilt in exchange for a warm bed... some simply aren't cut out for the job, and Joel tell the others they descided to leave. No goodbyes and all that.

Women depend. Many have special skills, especially older women. Medical is important, farming, clothes making etc. Hell, a handful became raiders too. Some who are younger and seem useful, Joel will play a little matchmaker. Keeping the world alive and repopulating... well he didn't exactly need a love match.

Sometimes, though, Joel would come across a young lady who was just... useless. Little to no skills, nothing of use...

That was you. He was certain he'd kill you or leave you for dead after taking everything you had... but he was merciful

Joel offered you a choice. You coul come with him, join the small group of women in his home. You would be used as stress relief for him and sometimes the other men if he felt they deserved it or needed a moral boost. He assured you they wouln't partake in violence, you wouldn't end up like so many others with raiders... just be good, and you'll remain fed and warm

First he's gotta make sure you're up to standard.

But Joel doesn't just take you to the house, he had Tommy gather up the men

Joel makes sure to make it slow. Piece of clothing by piece, inspecting your body. He treats you like a lamb, deciding to buy you or not. Makes sure you're tender and clean and sensative. Makes sure the meat is right where it needs to be. He must've liked what he saw.

You're naked and bare to all the men with hungry eyes, but Joel keeps your focus and he manipulates your body to where he wants it to be.

Joel doesn't shy away from keeping his cock in full view. He doesn't care that the men see it. He wants them to see. The physical manifestation of his power.

He fucks you there, while everyone watches, stroking their cocks. Porn videos had been gone nearly 20 years, this is what they had.

Joel fucked you with no shame, chosing positions that put both you and him on full display. When he put you on your back, Joel made no attempt to cove you up. Instead, he let the men see as every thrust of of his hips made your breasts bounce.

He took your legs, grabbing you by the ankles and spreading your feet wide in the air. He wanted to make sure everyone could see how he stretched you open.

Joel invites them closer. Tommy, the boldest, reaches out to wipe a tear from your eyes. But you aren't sad, you're intoxicated, overwhelmed with thankfullness to be chosen as you cum on his cock

Joel makes sure to let everyone know you came.

After he comes inside you little hole with a growl, Joel disengages from you, stepping off the twin bed

the men swarm in around you

They all cum on your body (but not your face), when one man finishes another takes his place, coating your skin in the cream

You must've taken 30 loads when it was all done

Joel pinches your cheeks. "You belong to me now"

You couldn't be happier

This got much longer than I anitipated so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh more to come lol. I was initially thinking Joel with a harem but then things went cray

Reblog, comment, send asks if you wanna hear about the actual harem part

if you like culty joel please check out Devotion by @noxturnalpascal !!!!

And of course, shout out to @toxicanonymity for raider Joel, which is what got me into writing dark in the first place

[justporo]

Astarion owns property in my head at this point. Can I request for Astarion and Tav where they finally settle down after everything with the Absolute is over and has finally calmed down, and Tav immediately gets extremely sick. Nothing deadly, but still severe. After all the stress from the tadpoles and fighting for their lives, Tav's body kinda just gives out. I'd imagine Astarion would be at a complete loss at taking care of someone, let alone someone that sick lol probably gets scared they're dying too

Oh, Anon, I feel you. It's not that he lives in my head rentfree, no! He owns the building and makes ME pay the rent by now...

This request resonates a lot with me, today, because I'm frankly barely holding on atm, my stomach's acting up and I can't wait for the finishline for this week... so I too could actually use some Astarion taking care of me - although if that might help? Let's see! (Spoilers ahead)

This is pure ridiculous fluff btw. And thank you for the sweet request!

Pairing: Astarion / GN!Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,5k

Strawberry Sugar High

You hadn't left the bed for the better part of a week and you felt you had contracted most every kind of ailment that one could suffer from under this sun. You felt shaky and dizzy. Your limbs hurt and felt weak. Your stomach was in a weird limbo of feeling strange and barely allowing you to keep anything down. Radiating heatwaves making your whole body sweat came and switched places with icy chills so even the coziest of blankets couldn't stop you from shivering. You were down bad - and Astarion almost scaled the walls not knowing what to do with you or how to take care of you.

"My sweet, I brought you...", Astarion started to announce cheerfully as he opened the door to your bedroom with a bowl and a steaming mug in his hands. Then he saw how you had hogged every possible piece of fabric in your giant joint bed and had wrapped yourself in it. At the sight of it, Astarion's shoulders slumped visibly and with it his procured goods - which almost caused scorching hot tea to splash on the floor.

“…some fruit and tea”, he finished audibly distraught and walked over to sit somewhat next to where you had rolled up into a mess of sheets and blankets and were silently shivering. He carefully placed down mug and bowl on the nightstand before he turned to the pile that you had become.

“I really thought you were getting better, my love!” The sad and suffering puppy eyes he made at you almost made you think he was the one to be worried about.

“Y-you say t-that every-ytime you le-leave the room and co-ome back, A-Astarion”, you replied through shattering teeth which sadly took the edge off of your snide remark.

“I know, love. Because every time I hope you might would have started to feel better. But you’ve been like this for almost a week and yet no improvement in sight. You have me worried sick!”, he dramatically explained.

The shivers temporarily left your body to allow you to give Astarion a death stare – the audacity of this man. “I am so terribly sorry that I dare put you through th-this. Now please h-hand me the t-tea!”, you sarcastically replied and worked your hands out of the mountain of blankets to stretch them out towards the nightstand where the vampire had placed the mug.

Astarion handed you the mug. “Careful, it’s scorching ho…”, he said while you grabbed it from him and placed your palms around the hot ceramic and sighed at the bliss of warmth.

Astarion stared at you as if you had turned into an ox.

You took in the smell of the fresh brew and sighed again – pine needles, mint, chamomile, and a hint of lavender. You took a sip slowly because it was actually really hot and closed your eyes for a second. The hot drink temporarily made you feel better.

“You really got the right mixture down now, Astarion, thank you!”, you said as you opened your eyes again and smiled broadly at the vampire who had swung his legs onto the bed and crossed them by the ankles – bare feet sticking out of the pant legs – to sit beside you. At your compliment his face lit up, his eyes filling with sincere joy.

“Well, I’m happy to hear I am proficient at taking care of you, my sweet sick darling”, he said and raised one of his eyebrows in arrogant manner. “Well, let’s not forget the time when you didn’t strain the pine needles or when you tried to make mushroom soup and created bile”, you replied to his cocky demeanour and then took another sip of tea. The shivers were really calming down now.

Astarion’s mouth became a straight line. “Well, I am sorry, but it’s been over two hundred years since I last had to know my way around a kitchen – you’d be surprised how easily forgotten mundane things are”, he pouted but stretched out his arm to rub circles on your back – or what he thought must be your back under the thick padding of fabric.

You were fairly certain, Astarion had never really known his way around a kitchen, but you really didn’t want to rub it in since he was actually trying so hard to take care of you. And he had really been worried sick about you since it seemed he had also forgotten how much impact even a rather harmless sickness could have on a mortal body.

“Feeling better now?”, Astarion asked while he kept rubbing your back. This time there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or arrogance in his tone, just a sincere, caring question.

“I am. Thank you, my heart”, you answered and turned a bit to him to give him another smile. “I guess after everything that happened my body was just in dire need of a break – and now forced me to take it. I guess in a few days I’ll be merrily dallying around again”, you spoke as you looked at Astarion but then spied past him to where you had seen something of interest in the bowl he had brought.

“I’m happy to hear that, my sweet, because I don’t know…”, the vampire replied with a smile then furrowed his brows as he saw your focus shift past him and you leaned to look behind him. He made to lean with you. “My beautiful eyes are up here, my love”, he murmured playfully.

But you craned your neck now to see what it was he had brought you – broad shoulders and handsome face be damned. “Gods, are those strawberries?” “Indeed, sweetheart.”

Your mouth opened and you stared at Astarion in anticipation: “Where did you get them? Those are not in season for a few more months! I love strawberries, they’re my favourite fruit, no, food!” Your eyes gleamed at the vampire who replied with a smug grin: “I know, darling. I am actually a good listener in case you hadn’t noticed yet.”

You stretched to give him a kiss which almost resulted in you falling over and spilling all of the remaining tea. Your heart filled with an incredible amount of joy – not only because there were strawberries to be had, but because you felt so seen by your soulmate. You smiled at Astarion. “Indeed, you are”, you happily cheered him. He smiled back just as warmly.

“I got them from a place where they magically empower the crops. It did almost cost me an arm and the rest of my dignity though, but here we are”, he explained jokingly to which you raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

“Feed me!”, you then demanded excitedly when he didn’t spill any more details. To which the vampire grinned even more broadly, showing his sharp fangs in the process. “Oh love, I am more than happy to indulge you in this pleasant reversal of roles”, he crooned and turned around to grab the bowl of fruit while you kept sipping on your herbal tea.

He grabbed one of the deep red fruits and slowly lifted it to your already excitedly opened mouth. You were almost salivating, as Astarion offered you the berry, holding it elegantly in his long, slender fingers. The fruit almost touched your lips, but then, at the last possible moment: the vampire flicked it in his own mouth with his thumb.

Your mouth stayed open but now in a desperate expression while Astarion chewed. His facial expression became confused then pleasantly surprised, not even looking at you for a moment. “Oh dear, these are actually rather good. I had almost also forgotten how good these taste. I haven’t eaten a strawberry in forever.” He gave a quick high-pitched laugh while still looking a bit confused. This certainly had awoken a memory he had probably thought lost forever. But still – weren’t these for you?

“Excuse me, my tragic darling vampire, I really love you rediscovering your love for these mortal pleasures known as fruit, but weren’t these meant to soothe my sufferings?”, you said and pouted at Astarion. He readily replied by finally offering you one – for real this time, while he smirked at you and stole another one for himself.

As you bit down the taste just about exploded in your mouth. They were perfectly delicious and sweet. You sighed blissfully and let your head fall back with closed eyes. You were definitely feeling better by the minute.

“So good! Thank you so much for getting them – I feel so much better already!”, you said to Astarion and shimmied over to him to first lean past him and put the mug on the nightstand and then hugging him – arms extending from your ball of blankets.

Astarion pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re welcome, my love. Now – share the rest?” “Only if you promise to get more tomorrow!”

The pale elf threw his head back and laughed. “If that is what it takes to nurse you back to health, I am more than happy to oblige, sweetheart”, he promised with a chuckle before he gave you another of the sweet berries and then popped another strawberry in his own mouth.

Author's note: Okay cool, where do I get strawberries now? Hope you enjoyed!

[glitterincandles]

smiling friends playing minecraft ; ☆

glep

is the one who thought of the idea in the first place #socialmediamanager

brought it up to mr. boss as a "team bonding activity" LOL

in charge of their minecraft server and mediates any conflict that happens within it

the ultimate gamer actually a gamer GOD

is in the game 24/7, they never stop the grind

definitely the first one to find diamonds

yo glep the typa guy to have his whole house and storage decked out by the first day

has an automatic farm for everything (cobblestone, iron, gunpowder, slime, etc) like u name it they have it for some reason

he doesn't let everyone use them for free though

he makes the others "pay" (read: do something embarrassing, run an errand for him, give him iron or something) to get access to any of his automatic farms of their choosing for a whole day

they can negotiate w them tho

like if one of them comes up to him and they have something that he doesn't find valuable then they DO have a chance to convince him of its value but otherwise it won't work lol

in fact he'll be quite offended

like u think that red dye is enough to get access to my automatic iron farm?! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

undeniably the most powerful person in the server

his minecraft skin is definitely either one of those meme skins with an oddly realistic face on the torso or a skin that looks like some sort of lizard dragon monster thing

mr. boss

honestly barely knew what minecraft was before glep brought it up

he did assume it was some kind of game when he hears the word

like any other video game, he had to be introduced to it by the ppl around him

despite him approving of the game, he's barely ever joins the server

^^^^ he's more into rhythm games and fps

has no clue whats going on in the server tbh

he just gets bits and pieces based off of what others say to him or around him

because of that he tries to join the server more often but he really really can't get ahold of minecraft in general bc he gets bored very easily and needs outside stimuli

is the type to log into a server he hasn't touched in a hot second and be upset that everyone else is so far ahead

he always spawns in the middle of nowhere every time bc he hasn't made or slept in a bed yet

^^^ because he usually leaves the server within 5 minutes which isn't long enough for the day-night minecraft cycle to commence (minecraft days are 10 minutes long)

when he logs on while its nighttime in the server he literally BREAKS into allan's house (much to his dismay) and forgets to patch any hole he left in his walls or windows

he hits/kills everyone else in minecraft for fun

literally just logs in to cause chaos then leave

^^^ everyone is thankful that he doesn't have access to tnt yet

definitely uses the alex minecraft skin

allan red

he took a while to accept that they have a minecraft world together

he found it kinda obnoxious (he joined the server anyway)

determined to have the best house in the game

if he had to take any role, he would be the builder

the first thing he did when he logged in was start building a house... like wood enters his inventory, he just makes a fuckin axe then uses the rest of the wood to build his house ;w;

he's actually pretty good at it since he already is very detail-oriented and shit so he can definitely make a fire house

when it comes to mining or combat tho he's so shit

^^^ glep helps in this aspect LOL

only went to the nether for glowstone and it pissed charlie off once

bc theyre already pretty close, glep is more lenient on him and is usually on his side when it comes to any conflict that occurs in the server

not only does he put a lot of effort into his houses, he also puts a lot of effort into the outside of his houses

he just be building shit

built a whole mansion for his minecraft dog once (just bc)

every time he dies in minecraft he's like "ok that means its time for me to log off"

surprisingly has a very healthy balance of play time. he plays just enough to get very far in the game and keep up with everything and ALSO keep his real life stabilized and normal

he has a creative minecraft world outside of the server that he tries redstone in to get lights in his normal minecraft house to work without it looking too bulky and ugly

^^^ he also uses it to make booby traps for anyone entering his house without permission

^^^^ they never fucking work on mr. boss

he made his minecraft skin himself and its just him if he were yassified

charlie dompler

oh god fucking finally was probably what ran through his mind when he heard the news

he probably joked about it once to pim and was surprised that it actually came true

this guy is second to glep when it comes to gaming

like srsly bro probably has a gaming setup and/or is saving up for one

he was the second to join the minecraft server (second to glep again)

he is the opposite of allan; he hates building and only ever mines or fights mobs

in fact he made his whole minecraft hideout in the side of a cave and it only has like. one crafting table, six fucking furnaces, and like 10 chests full of random drops and bulllshit, then his singular bed in the middle of the room with a big path leading down to a random ass cave

looking at his minecraft hideout would make a minecraft builder CRY their eyes out its worse than u think

would often vc with pim and play with him on the server

spends a concerning amount of time on minecraft bc he always has something to do on it, he just gives himself random side quests

despite the disorganization of his minecraft home he's actually more organized in minecraft than in real life believe it or not

he probably hasn't touched grass since he joined the minecraft server

him and glep duel it out sometimes for fun, or they do like fighting challenges with each other like who can kill the most zombies without dying

extremely attached to a wolf he tamed when he first joined the server

he watched minecraft gaming youtubers and bc of that he enchants everything he owns bc those were his favorite episodes

his minecraft skin is some sort of character from one of his interests, like mr. frog or a random salty's mascot bc he finds it funny

pim pimling

his poor cheap office laptop can barely run minecraft omfg

when he boots minecraft up, it'd lag so hard and the fans in his laptop would go crazy, then after five minutes minecraft runs "as normal"... like it's playable but not to ppl who are used to 250 fps

^^^ it happens every fucking time he doesn't know how to fix it

he's ok with it though he's like ok give it a sec this happens all the time ^w^

^^^^ was the last person to join the server bc of this

sings a song while he's doing a minecraft chore, like in the silly halloween special episode when he was singing picking up twigs! picking up twigs! that'll be him while getting wood or something similar

he's real careful about how long he plays bc he doesn't want his laptop to overheat

his combat skills r pretty good bc of his experience playing gwimbly's games when he was younger

his favorite thing is definitely farming though

he's at a constant dilemma of using bones for either bone meal or taming another wolf to add to his mini army

^^^ the mini army is only making his lag worse charlie Really doesn't understand

settled down in a village in one of those empty houses and fight to protect them from any raid that occurs

talks aloud to minecraft villagers as if they can hear him

his village house is filled with many animals actually

he is charmed by baby zombies and baby villagers

^^^ he adopted a baby villager in minecraft once

^^^^ she died in a freak accident during a raid

^^^^^ pim was heartbroken for days

he does a lot of side quests with charlie for fun

like charlie, his minecraft skin is a character from one of his interests,, most likely gwimbly or a character from that game