#and of course the stomach churns to that; as it did to what came before and what came after

[northwest-by-a-train]

The amazing thing is not that the stomach churns, it's that it doesn't churn more often

[bratbby333]

rough game...c'mere, brat — ryomen sukuna

𓆩♱𓆪 synopsis gamer!bf sukuna loses his game. while he's taking his anger out on you, he goes a little too far. 𓆩♱𓆪 word count 2k 𓆩♱𓆪 cw established relationship, language, choking, use of safe word, rough sex, hints of cnc, degradation, cervix fucking, smut/angst/comfort 𓆩♱𓆪 an from an anon request! sorry it took so long my love...thank you for being patient with me xx not beta read!

nsfw 𓆩♡𓆪 mdni

“Fuck this dumbass shit,” a grating voice broke through your peaceful silence. The clattering sound of a discarded headset and the angry glide of a chair echoed through the hallway, making your shoulders tense. Not even a minute later, Sukuna’s heavy footsteps stomped toward the room, shoving the door open. 

“Rough game?” you inquired, your eyes still focused on your reading. He took quick strides toward you, scowling as he tore your book from your hands. Before you could reprimand him for interrupting your quiet time and discarding your book so haphazardly, his hands were anchored under your armpits and pulling you from your chair. He tossed you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the mattress. Not a single word was exchanged as he clambered on after you, but his hungered eyes scaling up and down your body told you everything you needed to know. 

Shock reverberated through your body at how quickly this was unfolding, but the aggressiveness of his actions paired with the animalistic look on his face sent pangs of desire through your core. It was typical for Sukuna to be irritated after a particularly infuriating game, but not like this. Anticipation swirled through your stomach, excited for what was to come. He fucked you so good when he was pissed.

His hands clawed across your body as he tore your clothes away, his feverish kisses turned into battling tongues and clashing teeth as he leaned over you. He ran two digits between your slit before spitting a fat glob of saliva onto your cunt, thumbing at it as he licked the palm of his free hand, wrapping it around his length. He jerked himself off as he pumped into you, his thick fingers dragging against your g-spot with every plunge. His tongue darted from between his lips, the muscle lapping hungrily at your nipple, sucking harshly before latching on, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub. Your back arched toward him, fully immersed in the shockwaves of desire that coursed through you. With a couple rough rubs of his shaft against your clit, he was sinking deep inside you, bottoming out immediately. 

You had seen him get like this on multiple occasions– he got riled up pretty easily when it came to his games. The fact that you got any sort of foreplay before the main event was a shock to you as his hips rutted against you. But even then, it still wasn’t enough to prepare you for what was in store. Sukuna gave you no time to adjust to his pace as he pummeled your pretty pussy. His thick cock tugged in and out, the less than optimal amount of lubrication making the stretch of his girth borderline unpleasant. But the sensation of his head rubbing against your sweet spot made your tummy churn with lust, your arousal flooding through you, dampening your cunt after a few of his mean strokes. 

He felt your walls flutter around him in an attempt to adjust to the abruptness of his intrusion. He stared down at where your bodies met as he bullied himself deeper, your face twisted as you worked to accommodate him. Small whimpers left your lips as he fucked into you, every brutal rock of his pelvis made the head of his cock carress you in just the right way. Sukuna loved when you struggled to take all of him. Even with the work he did to open you up with his fingers, he knew it wasn’t enough to get you good and ready. But he was hungry, starved even, frustration ripping through him, his carnal urges taking over. This wasn’t enough for him tonight. He needed an outlet to channel his anger into…he needed to break you. 

A dark growl emanated from his sternum as he repositioned, pressing your legs toward your chest. You had just barely gotten used to him before the new angle pushed his cock way deeper than your body wanted to allow, and so soon at that. Something was off today. Your eyes frantically darted across his face as his vicious thrusts began to slam into your womb. Sukuna’s dark, demented expression was bone-chilling. And then it clicked. He didn’t care if it felt good…he was happier when it didn’t, when he was the only one getting off. His ego had taken over. He wanted it to hurt, wanted to take all the rage he felt out on you. And that scared the shit out of you.

"Ahh!...'K-kuna...Sukuna!" you yelped, your palms pressed into his abdomen as his hips ruthlessly slammed into you. His hands pushed into the back of your thighs, your legs shaking from the deep stretch. The thick head of his cock brushed meanly against your cervix with every thrust. 

"Yeah, brat...take that shit, say my fuckin' name," he growled, pressing your legs deeper. One of his hands was planted by the side of your head, the other wrapped around your throat while he leaned his full body weight against the back of your legs, folding you into yourself, the pressure against your ribs coupled with his bruising grip around your windpipe labored your breathing, making your head spin.

"I...can't....h-hurts," you rasped, your voice a broken whisper as his fingers dug even deeper into the sides of your neck. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, slamming himself against you with hungered rage. 

He was so caught up in his own bliss, ignoring your mumbled pleas for relief as he bulldozed into you. He didn’t care. The sadistic chuckle that broke through his chest solidified that fact. His eyes were dark, his brows furrowed deep. He was lost in the sloppy sounds of your pussy sucking him in, spurred on by the whines that seeped through your constricted windpipe as he slammed into the soft wall at the back of your cunt. The rough huffs of your breathing and your fragmented whimpers got him off even more.

“Su..kuna,” you stammered, your words caught in your lungs. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to pull his fist away, but he wouldn't budge.

You were dazed, your eyes watering from the ache between your legs as you slapped his arm, "W-wait–ahh!– shit…’s too mu..ch." You wedged your arm between the two of you, rubbing quick circles against your clit in hopes to alleviate the burn. 

But his pace was unwavering and your body couldn’t adjust. His eyes were locked on yours, a demented grin on his face as waves of fear raked through your body…an unvoiced message ringing clear between the two of you: He heard you, but he’s not stopping.

He dipped down to suck harshly at the sweet flesh behind your ear, biting at the sensitive skin. “Stay still n take it, brat…let me have this.” His words echoed in your head as he leaned back, straightening the arm that was anchored around your throat as he mercilessly rutted into you, every smack shooting both pain and pleasure through your trembling frame.

The rough plunges of his cock iinn and ooutt of your sticky walls burned so beautifully. As much as you wanted to surrender to the waves of arousal that were threatening your floodgate, it was too much. The discomfort outweighed the enjoyment. Not this time. It was all too much.

“Fu..ck,” you squeaked, your throat raw and face flushed as anxiety gnawed at your spine. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision going dark. “R-red,” was all you could manage through the tightness of your throat. Your eyes glazed over, stars visible behind your heavy lids from your depleting supply of oxygen. Your trembling hands clawed up and down his forearms in hopes he’d hear you. But he didn’t. His rhythm persisted, the vulgar sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass drowned out your desperate pleas. He was splitting you in half, every rut of his hips sending you closer to your breaking point.

“Ple..ase–unghh…can’t,” tears welled in your eyes as Sukuna smiled down at you. “Too much, huh? Can’t take me like ya used to?” His jaw was tight as he taunted you, his grip around your neck tightening even more as he jostled your head around. Your fearful eyes flipped a switch in his brain as he pulled out and shoved all the way back in, delighted with the way your writhing body attempted to get away from him. His brow arched with amusement as he watched your face contort. This was a game for him. He was getting off on toying with you. A broken scream cut through your lungs while you gasped for air, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Red–fu..uck!–RED!” A perplexed look painted your boyfriend’s face before realization set in. You gasped as his grip loosened and his hips stilled against you. A lingering hint of disappointment flashed through his eyes as he pulled out, pushing himself off you to allow your legs to fall against the bed. You wheezed and coughed, the pulsing ache in your abdomen fully setting in as you worked to regain your composure. 

"You don't have to take this shit out on me all the time, 'Kuna!" You swiped away the spit that was dribbling from the corner of your mouth. "You were too rough this time."

"You've never complained about it before," he huffed with a roll of his eyes, his ignorance sending pangs of anger through your body.

"Can you take me seriously for once in your life? You hurt me, Sukuna." You muscled your body away from him, propping yourself up against the headboard. He stood, circling around to you before taking a seat next to you. You avoided his gaze, your stomach churning and head buzzing while you worked to quell your fear.

He watched as your chest heaved, eyes brimming with tears as you massaged your neck, your body twitching from the throbbing pulse in your abdomen while irritation prickled under your skin at his obvious indifference. Sukuna dipped down fast, catching your fallen tears on his tongue, a smug grin on his face as he pulled your hands away from your throat, holding them against his chest. A groan escaped him at the sight of the purple bruises in the shape of his fingertips decorating the delicate flesh of your throat, the look of your fucked out disposition turning him on once more. “I’ll be gentle…if you wanna try again,” he suggested, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Sukuna,” you warned, shooting daggers toward your pink haired boyfriend. “I’m being serious. It really hurt,” you whined. Your face contorted at his lack of compassion as you rubbed away the trail of spit he had left on your face, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. He huffed before shifting closer to you. A heavy silence settled in the room as your breathing began to return to normal. 

"I...'m sorry," he grumbled, unsure of how to comfort you. It was the first time you’d ever used your safeword. His face was neutral, but confusion flooded his mind, knowing for certain that he’d been far rougher than that in the past. He thumbed the back of your hands before placing a kiss on each one. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… that bad,” he glanced at your face to make sure that comment didn’t upset you. “I thought you were enjoying it, didn’t know that when you said it hurt you actually meant it.” 

Your head shook side to side. To be fair, you usually said things like that to boost his ego, especially after he lost a game. The dirty talk exchanged between the two of you during one of your sessions was definitely…specific–not for the faint of heart. You sighed deeply as you worked to calm your nerves, the pain in your core subsiding. It was an honest misunderstanding. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long, either. 

“It’s okay,” you conceded, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek, before pulling back, a coy smile on your face as you looked up at him. “Just listen to me next time, will ya?” A raspy “mhmm” vibrated through his chest as you curled your body against his. 

“Give me 20 and we can try again…but go easy on me.”

“No promises, doll.”

“Sukuna…”

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

an took a break from my gamer!bf sukuna series n i forgot how much i enjoyed writing for him. sending a big thank you to the anon who requested this...i hope you enjoy my love.

also!! i'm almost at 500 followers??? thank you guys so much for your support on my writing...i literally cannot believe it! i love y'all sm xx

tag list @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @youliveincassisworld

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Did it first || Jeff the killer

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: yandere!jeff, stalking, murder, squirting

Jeff thought you were perfect. He immortalized you. You were his saving grace in a world so cold. You lived a normal life, one that wasn't an option for him anymore. You worked at a law firm, lived in the suburbs. Being with you was like checking his life out at your doorstep before coming inside. If he was being truthful, your average life was apart of his attraction to you. His infatuation with you was anything but healthy. This wasn't a love story for him. It was a passion, a pure and uncensored obsession. He didn't know what to do with these emotions. These pent up desires and cravings. The best part about it?

You didn't even know he was there.

While watching you, he always wondered to himself, what you were thinking? Despite seemingly being invested in whatever was in front of you, your eyes always seemed to stare into outer space. Something was on your mind, Jeff just couldn't place what it was. That was of course, until a man showed up at your doorstep.

That man wasn't Jeff. Jeff learned this man to be a coworker of yours named Jim. The pale killer spent an ungodly amount of time researching Jim. Who was he? Why was he at your house? What was Jim to you? You had never shown romantic interest in anyone before. Jeff had been with you for over a year now and you had never shown desire for another partner. It made the pale killer sick to watch him bring you flowers and chocolates. It made his stomach churn, watching you accept them. The loser didn't even know your favorite flower was lily's not stereotypical roses. He also didn't even bother to know you were allergic to nuts, unable to eat the store bought chocolates. Jeff may not have been a materialistic lover, but he most certainly went above and beyond physically.

You unknowingly had your own guard dog. You walked home from work every weeknight at a crisp six pm, right as the sun would start to set. Your car had 'somehow' broken down a few months ago, the car dealership telling you there were so many internal issues you might as well invest in a new car. What could Jeff say? It was easier to watch over you on foot. He considered himself an unconvential guardian angel of sorts. Jeff lost count of how many men he had mercilessly slaughtered after cat calling you or trying to follow you. Jeff took pride in it, being your savior. He was disgusted as he watched you smile and hug Jim. He shook his head, gritting his teeth. Clearly being your savior wasn't enough. What could Jim provide that he couldn't? Was it sex? Jeff knew your house like the back of his hand. You always left the right window in your living room cracked open for fresh air. Jeff may have tampered with your AC to ensure he could gain proper entry.

He didn't want you to have any intruders he couldn't protect you from. Jeff slid into your closet, watching through the cracked door as you let Jim lay you down on your bed. It took everything in him to not slit his throat right then and there. He watched as Jim sloppily kissed you, practically slobbering on your lips. You were a good actress, pretending to be more turned on then you actually were. Jeff knew all too well what you being hot and bothered looked like. The late nights you spent touching yourself to BDSM porn. He ensured to watch the same videos you did, just to make sure he knew what you were into for when the time came. Jim clearly didn't do even half of his research, skipping foreplay with you entirely. You pretended to not be bothered. If wasn't for the pure envy that ran through Jeff's veins he would've enjoyed the show. You were on all fours, back not even arched in the slightest. Jim couldn't see your beautiful face, but Jeff could. You were bored out of your mind as he fucked you.

Jeff would like to think what he did next was out of your best interest. He patiently waited until Jim finished, not bothering to tend to your needs. He watched the man slump beside you, his eyes fluttering shut. No aftercare either? Jeff sighed. You really knew how to pick em. He watched you slide out of bed naked, your ass jiggling as you slithered out of the room. You shut the bedroom door, giving Jeff the perfect opportunity to make his grand appearance. "Show time," He snickered to himself, pushing your closet door open. Jeff would have loved nothing more than to take his time with Jim. To cut open his insides and make him eat his own intestines. But the pale killer knew there was more important matters at hand. Your satisfaction meant more than his own, meaning Jeff would need to make this as quick as possible. He climbed onto the bed, slapping Jim awake. Jim awoke with beady and fearful eyes, unable to make a sound before Jeff plunged his knife into his chest. "Go to sleep," He snarled, twisting the knife into his chest. Normally Jeff would have taken the time to do his signature, but he could hear you turning on the shower.

You didn't deserve to have to make yourself cum. Sure your experiment was a complete and utter failure, but Jeff knew you were just testing the waters. He knew without a shadow of a doubt you were just testing how far Jeff would go for you. And this? The corpse that was displayed on your mattress? This would show you. But what would show you even more, was him finally gaining the courage to say hi. He watched the life slowly drain from Jim's eyes as he climbed out of your bed, carelessly opening your bedroom door with his bloody hand. He walked over to your bathroom, the steam from the hot water leaking through the door. Jeff could hear your pathetic little whimpers. You were so predictable. The pale killer let himself inside, your sinful noises coming to a halt. "Jim?" You called out, already wrapped in the showers warmth. Jeff slid off his shoes, before yanking the shower curtain open. You jumped, your mouth opening to form a scream. Jeff's large hand covered your lips at the last millisecond, the hot water soaking his blood stained clothes. This was your first time seeing him, Jeff expected this. He expected you to be taken aback by his beauty and unique appearance.

"Relax doll, I took care of that dipshit that didn't make you cum," He said, breathless. The blood from his clothes began to go down the drain, your panicked eyes darting side to side as you took in his hideous appearance. Obsidian and soulless eyes, paper white skin, and a carved smile that was so terrifying it almost didn't look real. "I'm gonna move my hand now gorgeous, I won't scream if I were you. Wouldn't want you to end up like good ole Jim," Jeff advised. Jeff couldn't kill you, he most certainly wouldn't. But you needed a bit of training. Your beautiful mind just needed some time to adjust to him forcefully advancing to the next level in your relationship. He slowly slid his hand away, your back pressed against the cool marble tiles of the shower wall. You didn't know what to say, utterly speechless as the killer stood before you. "My name is Jeff. I'm your guardian angel, doll. I'm all yours. And you? You're all mine," He said, a sincere grin spreading across his lips. You were shell shocked, staring at him in fear as he stared down at you. He brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it as gently as he could muster. "Do you hear me doll? You belong to me. No more Jim. No other shrimp dick fuck. Me. Just me," Jeff panted. The terror that was running through your veins was thrilling to watch, your face involuntarily shifting into dozens of different emotions at once.

Your eyes flooded with tears, your face flushing red. "Don't cry, there there," Jeff cooed, wiping away one of your fallen tears with his thumb. When they continued coming Jeff brought himself closer to you, flattening out his tongue across your cheek and licking your tears off of your skin. You swallowed shallowly, your body trembling from fear. His saliva felt disgusting against your skin, his hair and clothes now soaked from the ongoing shower water. "I won't rush things, I know this may be overwhelming for you," Jeff said. He was trying to be understanding and considerate. You were delicate and needed to be treated as such. He leaned back, a couple of inches separating his face from yours as water trailed down his face. "But I love you and i'm going to show you just how much," Jeff purred. You stared as he lowered himself to his knees. Your core was still throbbing, your legs glued shut from the moment Jeff revealed himself. Yet you couldn't deny how badly you wanted release, Jim failing to satisfy you in any sort of measurement. You knew it would be bad karma, allowing a serial killer to get you off. But you feared what would happen if you denied his advances, your hormones leading to you allowing him to pry open your thighs.

Your cunt. Oh your cunt. Jeff was in heaven, just seeing your slick up close and personal. "You know i've spent many nights watching you, playing with your clit. Trying to get your tiny fingers up to reach that sweet spot," Jeff rambled. He used two fingers to open your folds, admiring you. "But seeing it up close. Fuck, you are perfect," Jeff praised. Without another word he brought his mouth to your aching folds, your hand flying over your mouth to conceal your unholy moans. Jeff peered up at you, delivering a sharp slap to your thigh. "I didn't wait all of this time for silence. Be loud for me. Don't worry doll, no one can hear you," He snickered, knowing the double meaning to his words. Unsurely you lowered your shaky hand, bracing yourself against the tiles as he reattached his mouth to your cunt. Jeff knew you were wet enough to handle his fingers, the pale killer shoving two of them inside of you. You groaned, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as he lapped at your folds. It was terrifying, having an unhinged killer buried between your thighs. But when was the last time you had felt something like this? A man willing to pleasure you? That put your needs first?

Sure, Jeff looked absolutely terrifying. But he killed for you. He killed some loser that didn't satisfy you and was now determined to make you cum on his face. Jeff felt your body begin to relax, one of your small hands finding his hair. He groaned into your folds as you grinded against his face. You were doing it. You were giving into him and he didn't even have to threaten you. He curled his fingers inside of you, relishing in the feeling of your gummy walls clinging onto him. You were so much tighter than he could've imagined. You tasted so much sweeter than he could have dreamed. After all of the late nights he spent watching. All of the endless hours he spent at the mansion, jerking his cock and dreaming of this very moment. You were giving into him, moaning his name. Your legs were struggling to stay upright, causing Jeff to manhandle you. He grabbed your legs, lifting them off of the ground and over his shoulders as if you weighed nothing. You were completely reliant on him to stay upright, your heart skipping a beat as all of your weight was on Jeff's face. Jeff didn't have any issue with this, his tongue assaulting your clit as you pulled at his hair.

You couldn't control your unholy noises, the fact a literal corpse was rotting in your house fading away as Jeff devoured you. He was determined to make you cum for him. He needed you to cum for him. He had fantasized of this moment for so long, he couldn't fail. You could feel the cord inside of you tightening, your body betraying any residue of fear that was left. "Jeff," You cried, whimpering as he abused your g spot with his lengthy fingers. The sound of you moaning his name made Jeff's cock grow harder, his own desires catching up with him. He gripped your thigh as you released, whining as you squirted on his face. You gasped, eyes wide and cheeks red with embarrassment. The shower water had now ran cold, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Jeff set you down, abruptly turning off the water. "I'd love to stay and fuck you senseless but, you do have a corpse in your bed," Jeff pointed out. He silently resented himself for killing him first instead of last. "Right," You panted, out of breath. Jeff stepped out of the shower, offering you his hand. "Here's what you're gonna do doll. You're gonna go back in there like nothing happened and call the police. You never saw me. You just went to take a shower and came back to him dead," Jeff instructed. You licked your dry lips, swallowing.

Could you mentally handle seeing a mangled dead body? "W-What if they suspect me?" You stuttered. Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. He pulled his knife out of his hoodie, showing it to you. "I'm taking the murder weapon with me," Jeff explained. You began to feel overwhelmed, tears flooding your waterline. Jeff shushed you lovingly, stroking your cheek again.

"I know it's a lot doll. But don't worry. It's me and you now. Me and you."

[ilycosy]

❝ YOU FREE 2NIGHT ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary — it's a cold february morning, nothing special to you, really. but there's that sickening air around camp that has everyone in a trance, you'll escape it this year again of course. or will you?

warnings : reader is a hater , luke is a helpless romantic loser , they're both awkward teenagers but it's so cute , percabeth !!!

aﾉn — a valentines day fic !! 🤍 i hope u guys enjoy <33 i rlly like writing luke as a loser but i think u guys alr know that sjshak

you woke to hushed giggles in the cabin, an aphrodite boy perched up on one of your half brothers. basically eating each other's faces before anyone wakes up to see them, you roll your eyes.

listen, you weren't entirely against romance. just all the bits where you have to share yourself with your 'special person', especially in public. pda was your own personal tartarus, you were sure of it.

which is why it was shocking to receive a stupid note during breakfast from luke asking if you're free tonight, misspelled might you add. and even though you found it stupid, you couldn't help but wonder why he would even bother with you.

you— the person who once told him that he had the face of a sloth, the person who shoved him into the lake just because you could, the person who told him to 'get over' hermes when he came to camp. really, you couldn't think of any reason he'd ever like you.

but with how he smiled eagerly when you opened the note, and how he waved and did a thumbs up when you read it. you ditched the unsure thoughts of him just lying to you. you weren't free anymore.

you circled the no answer box, slipping the note back to him when your cabin was called for the offerings. trying not to look at him when he got cheesy and had percy come over to tell you to meet luke at a spot.

"luke said he wants you to meet him at," percy looks down at his hand, like he's reading from a fake script. "the place you poured juice onto his head? he's speaking in riddles to me, man."

you almost smiled at percy's sarcastic tone, but instead, you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your food. "tell him ill be there at 7." you say, turning your full attention to your food after.

you think you hear percy say, 'aye aye captain.' but you can't really be sure. you're too busy wondering how you're going to keep your food down with how your stomachs churning just thinking about what will happen.

well, turns out— 7 will come a lot sooner when you're stressing about what will happen at that time, the movies lied to you!

you sit anxiously at a clearing in the forest, looking around as you remember how you had dumped apple juice onto lukes head when you both were 15. you claimed it was to cool him down, but really, it was because he had called you pretty.

twigs snap behind you, and when you snap your head around, you're greeted with cupcakes?

"hey," luke greets, calmly sitting next to you like this was a casual hangout. "you hungry?" he asks, but he's a little nervous. his voice strained and his face a little red as he holds out sloppy cupcakes, clearly done by him and younger campers.

the cupcakes are messy, but they smell delicious. you almost grab one before reading what is spelt out on them, 'kiss me?'

you can't help but laugh, giggling to yourself as you hover over the k cupcake. "man i knew it was silly," he groans, setting the platter in his lap as he looks away embarrassedly. "i knew you hated pda, so i did it away from others but i shouldn't have listened to annabeth with the cupcakes it's just she said percy did it and she loved it and–"

you pressed a finger to his lips, picking up the cupcake you wanted. taking a slow bite as you savor it, thinking about his rant while he stares at you with wide eyes. you ignore how you swear both your hearts are beating in sync.

"it's sweet," you say, not knowing if you're talking about the cupcake or his confession. "it's not silly." it comes out before you can even think about what you're saying, you're talking about the confession?

it shocks both of you clearly. "you're sure?" he asks hesitantly, drumming his fingers on the platter. "i had help from demeter kids with the cooking, so i hope it's good, but are you sure that it's not stupid you don't have to call it sweet i get—"

you press your lips to his hesitantly, unsure of what you're doing, but honestly, he needed to shut up. he sits stiffly with the cupcakes on him, his hands coming up to pull you closer. you both awkwardly avoid dropping any while you kiss, teeth clashing together a few times.

when you both pull away you can't help but laugh, his dazed and blushing face so close to yours that he can smell the sugar and dinner on your breath. he starts laughing too, leaning his forehead on yours.

"im not free tonight," you whisper, watching as he looks at you confusedly. the angle is a little silly to look at him from, but for some reason your heart beats harder in your ears. "i think im taken."

his confused face splits into a stupid grin, pressing another kiss against your mouth before he lifts up the question mark cupcake. "by me?" he asks, cheesily but you can't imagine it being any other way.

"yes," you roll your eyes but your voice is soft, and he thinks his heart will explode in his chest. "by you."

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 2 - Cassian

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Nightmares, mention of murder, physical attack, slutshaming, threat of bodily harm, mention of imprisonment, light Cassian bashing, Azriel is a simp for his witch

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

Nesta's nightmares subsided.

Cassian wasn't sure why...wasn't sure what had been the cause, because it was like they disappeared utterly and completely in the blink of an eye.

Cassian, who had seen the toll that the nightmares had taken on Nesta, was both relieved and confused.

The nightmares, which had tormented her for so long, had vanished. And that puzzled him. He couldn't help but wonder what could have caused such a sudden and complete cessation.

He thought back to the days before the nightmares had stopped, trying to recall any changes or events that might have caused such an abrupt change…he came up empty. The days before had been fairly routine, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that could have…

And then suddenly...they were gone. He was glad about it of course. 

And as he drew the tips of his fingers down his mate's bare back...he was glad for her.

He traced the line of her spine, feeling the smoothness of her skin under his fingertips. Her back was bare, her hair spilling over her shoulders in a tangled mess from where he'd buried his hands into it earlier.

She was relaxed, her body loose and pliant, and the stress and tension that was usually present in her slowly bled away with each gentle caress.

"The nightmares...have lessened, haven't they?" He asked lightly.

She hummed in assent, her eyes closed as she relished the feeling of his hands on her body.

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily. "They have. I haven't had one in a few weeks now."

He continued to trace his fingers along her spine, feeling the subtle shift of her muscles as she breathed.

"That's good, sweetheart," he whispered pressing a kiss against her neck.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment as he kissed her neck, arching into his touch slightly."It is," she agreed quietly, her voice a sleepy murmur. "I feel...rested. More so than I have in months. I just hope the spell keeps working."

He froze his lips against the elegant column of her neck.

The spell? What spell?!

Cassian pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on her back, his mind churning.

Spell...did she say spell?

He couldn't remember Nesta mentioning a spell. Or anyone, for that matter. And yet...

"What spell?" he asked, his voice rough as he tried to control the hint of alarm that crept into it.

"The spell that's helping me with the nightmares," Nesta mumbled, her voice still sleepy and content. He stared at her, his heart clenching as the words sank in.

She had a spell? But…how? When? And why hadn't she told him?

"Nesta," he said, his voice tense as he tried to keep his concern in check. She hummed in response, her eyes still closed. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"When…did you cast a spell to help with the nightmares?" Cassian asked, forcing his voice to remain level.

"Oh," she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open slightly as she processed his question.

"A few weeks ago," she said, her voice gaining a bit more clarity.

He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as she spoke. A few weeks ago? Why hadn't she told him? Or any of the others for that matter?

"A few weeks..." he repeated slowly, his mind whirling.

"Yes," she said, her eyes now fully open, though her voice still held a hint of sleepy tiredness.

He swallowed, trying to keep his worry in check.

"And...who cast it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Azriel found me after a nightmare," Nesta said quietly. Azriel couldn't have cast a spell like that, that made no sense. 

Cassian felt a new wave of confusion mixed with worry. If it hadn't been Azriel, then who had helped Nesta? And how did it have anything to do with the spells?

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his alarm in check as he continued to speak.

"Who," he began, his voice measured, "cast the spell then?"

Nesta's expression softened slightly, a hint of apology in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Azriel..Azriel brought me to see a friend of his. She's a witch"

There was only one witch Azriel was friendly with.

"Nesta, please tell me you didn't let Hecate cast a spell at you," he pleaded with his mate. He saw the way her shoulders tensed slightly at his words, her eyes shifting away from his gaze.

"Azriel said she could help," she said, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "And it worked. I haven't had a nightmare since I went to see her. And Azriel calls her Cate," she added.

He felt a wave of disbelief crashing over him. Cate.

Azriel had taken his mate to see Cate.

The mere thought of it sent a chill down his spine.

"I am going to kill Az," he growled. He hadn't even known that Cate was still around. The last time he had heard about her had been a century ago.

But clearly, she had survived the war against Hybern with nary a scratch. Somehow it didn’t surprise him at all. Cate seemed to thrive where chaos was concerned. 

Nesta rolled her eyes at his comment. "You most certainly are not," she said with a huff.

Cassian stared at her, torn between fear and irritation.

"And why not?!" he exclaimed, his hands tightening on her hips. "He let you go see Cate. Cauldron knows what kind of spell she laid on you."

"It was just to help with the nightmares," Nesta protested, shifting in his grip.

He held her tighter, not ready to let her go just yet. "And you just believed that? Azriel told you it was just for the nightmares, and you took his word?" Cassian questioned,  the tension in his body ratcheting higher.

"I trust Azriel," she snapped. "It's a dreamcatcher spell. Something Care has cast on Azriel multiple times. You think Azriel would have let anything happen to me?!"

"It's Cate!" he retorted, his grip on her tightening even more.

How could she not see how dangerous this was? How could she trust Azriel's word so completely?

"Azriel's judgment when it comes to her is...compromised," he ground out, his voice tight with worry and irritation.

"Compromised?" she repeated, her eyebrows shooting up.

He scowled at her, his fear and frustration mounting.

"Yes, compromised," he snapped. "They have...history, and Azriel has...certain blind spots when it comes to her."

"They're friends," she said firmly, her eyes flashing with a familiar stubborn gleam.

He gritted his teeth in frustration. She was completely missing the point.

"That's putting it mildly," he retorted. "They're...they're... together, in a sense. Azriel would let her do damn near anything to him."

She rolled her eyes at his words. She didn't believe him. Didn't believe that Cate was a threat.

He let out a frustrated huff, pulling her closer to him, trying to get her to understand.

"Nesta," he said urgently, holding her gaze. "Cate is...she's dangerous. She has a reputation, and has for centuries. The spells she casts, the favours she asks for..."

"The only favour she asked for was from Azriel," Nesta snapped. "She did nothing but help me. And flirt outrageously with Az. Is this about her stabbing you? Are you holding a grudge?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.

He winced at her question. The memory of being stabbed by Cate was still a sore spot for him.

"Yes, it may have something to do with her stabbing me!" he exclaimed. "She is a dangerous witch, Nesta. She should not be trifled with. You went to her, let her cast a spell on you, and now you're….you're fine with it?"

"I am fine with it," she said firmly, her chin lifting in defiance.

His frustration grew even more at her stubborn stance. She didn't seem to be grasping the gravity of the situation.

"You're fine with it now," Cassian hissed through gritted teeth. "What about later? What if that spell has lingering effects, or if Cate decides she wants something from you in return? Did that ever cross your mind?"

"If it does, I'll deal with it," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand

He wanted to shake Nesta, to make her understand.

"You will deal with it?" he repeated, his voice rising in anger. "How exactly will you deal with it, Nesta? What if the spell backfires, or she wants something that you can't give? She is a powerful witch. You shouldn't have even gone near her in the first place!"

Nesta opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, his voice low and intense.

"No, don't even try to defend it," he said, his eyes blazing with anger. "You let Azriel take you to see Cate. You let her cast a spell on you. And you didn't even tell any of us about it until now."

He paused, taking in a deep, frustrated breath.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been? How worried we all have been about your nightmares?"

"I was fine!" she protested, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

He gritted his teeth, his hold on her hips tightening.

"No, you weren't fine," he snapped back. "You were having nightmares that were tormenting you. I heard you in your sleep. I saw how tired and drained you were during the day. You were not fine." 

Her expression softened slightly at his words, some of the defiance leaving her eyes. "I'm fine now," she said weakly, her voice losing some of its conviction.

He let out a scoff, his grip on her still firm.

"Now that you've let Cate cast a spell on you, you're fine," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That doesn't mean it will always be that way. Spells can have consequences. Side effects. Did you even ask her about that?"

"Nesta," he said, his voice softer but still tinged with irritation. "You should have told us. You should have told me. We could have figured something out together. We could have found a solution that didn't involve going to that witch."

"She said the only consequence would be a headache."

Cassian clenched his jaw at her words. A headache. That's it.

"A headache," he repeated, his voice flat. "And you believed her?!"

"Why wouldn't I?" she snapped, her eyes glittering in annoyance. "She helped me. She cast a spell and now I'm not having nightmares anymore. Why would she lie about it?"

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head.

"Because that's what Cate does," he said, his voice taut. That’s what she had always done. Cate manipulated everybody around her to her liking. "She lies. She manipulates. She twists favours and spells to her liking. You can't trust her, Nesta."

"Well, I did, and it worked," she retorted.

His anger flared at her words. How could she be so blind to the danger she had put herself in?

"It worked, for now," he shot back. "What about later? What if she decides she wants something from you? What if the spell has consequences down the line?"

"I'll deal with it," Nesta repeated.

He felt his patience reach its breaking point.

"You keep saying that!" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "You'll deal with it. You'll figure it out. But you can't. Not with Cate. She's playing games, and you're playing right into her hands."

"So you think Azriel would risk me like that?" Nesta asked icily. "You think your brother would do that? Maybe you should trust his judgment!"

Her question struck a nerve, and he felt his irritation spike even higher.

"Trust his judgement?!" he exclaimed, his control slipping further. "When it comes to Cate, his judgement is more than a bit impaired."

"He's smart, Cassian," she shot back, her stubbornness showing. "He wouldn't let her do anything to hurt me."

He bit back a scoff, his anger continuing to grow.

"You're underestimating how blind he can be when it comes to her," he said through clenched teeth. "He was practically obsessed with her hundreds of years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if he still is."

He was going to fucking kill Azriel. Probably after he killed Cate.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, as he got out of bed.

He was seething, his anger and fear swirling together into a roiling mass inside him. Azriek...he'd deal with her too.

But first, he needed to find Cate and give her a piece of his mind.

"Cassian, where are you going?" Nesta asked, watching him as he moved off the bed.

"I'm going to find Cate," he said through clenched teeth, his voice hard as steel.

Nesta's eyes widened, surprise flashing in her expression.

"You're...what?" she asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

He stomped from that room. He was going witch hunting.

He was seething with anger as he stormed out of the room, a mixture of worry and fury driving him forward.

Cassian stalked through the house, his steps heavy and purposeful, his mind focused on one thing - finding Cate.

She still had the same apartment she had centuries ago. He stood in front of her apartment, his anger still seething within him.

The wards that surrounded the place felt all too familiar, and just as deadly as they had been centuries ago. But he wouldn't let them stop him, not when he was this riled up.

Cassian slammed his fist against the door, the force of his blow reverberating through the solid wood.

He waited, his patience already at its limit.

After a few moments, he heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door, followed by the sound of several locks being released one after the other.

Finally, with a creak, the door slowly opened to reveal Cate.

There she was, standing in the doorway, looking at him with a mix of surprise and annoyance. Her green eyes sparkled in the dim light of the hallway, and her full lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, well," she drawled, her voice as sharp as a blade. "If it isn't Cassian. I should have known you would show up eventually." His anger flared at her mocking tone, and he had to bite back a string of curses.

"You knew I would come," Cassian said through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on her. "You knew, and you still did it anyway."

She leaned against the doorframe, the smirk still on her face.

"I had a feeling you'd eventually figure it out," Cate said with a shrug. "And here you are. Ready to yell at me, I assume?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to yell at you," he replied curtly, his voice a low growl. "You put a spell on my mate. You let her believe it was just for nightmares, but I know better. You're up to something, and I want answers."

She raised an eyebrow at his words, her expression unimpressed.

"Always so quick to assumptions, Cassian," Cate said coolly. "You always were one to jump to conclusions. You don't know as much as you think you do."

His blood boiled at her careless attitude, and he took a step forward, his muscles tense.

"Is that so? Then why don't you enlighten me?" Cassian said, his voice laced with anger. "Why don't you tell me why I shouldn't strangle you right here, right now?"

Cate chuckled at his words, her smirk widening.

"You're welcome to try, General," she purred, her chin lifting in a challenging manner. "But you and I both know it won't end well for you."

He clenched his fists at his sides, the urge to strangle her almost overwhelming. But he knew she was right. She was a powerful witch, and he was well aware of the fact that he couldn't match her magic. By the time he had drawn his sword, she could have already turned him into a slug. 

"You're enjoying this," he gritted out, his jaw tight. "You're loving every moment of this."

"Of course I am," Cate admitted with a shrug. "Your temper has always been a source of great amusement to me. I do love seeing you all riled up, ready to go charging into danger. Such a predictable male."

Her words cut through him like a knife, and he had to take a deep breath to avoid letting his anger get the better of him.

"You're enjoying playing games with people's lives," Cassian shot back, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "You knew what you were doing when you cast that spell on my mate. And you still did it anyway."

"I did her a favour," she said drily. "Every action has its consequences, General. You should know that better than most. What did you think were the consequences of imprisoning your mate in the House of Wind? Of making her Rhysand's little soldier?"

Her words hit him like a blow, and he felt the air get caught in his throat.

"Don't you dare bring that up," he warned, his voice almost a whisper. "Don't you dare act like you know what happened between me and my mate. You have no idea-"

She interrupted him with a scoff, her smirk growing even wider.

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I can see it in your eyes, General.

The guilt, the regret. The knowledge that you made more than a few mistakes.

"Your mate is the one paying the prize for your actions. All I did was help her. I took the weight of the nightmares from her. That's all I did."

"You took the weight of the nightmares from her, but what else did you take in the process?" he shot back, his voice rising in anger. "What other consequences did you leave unmentioned? What other costs is she going to have to pay down the line?"

Cate rolled her eyes at his questions, her smirk still in place.

"Oh, spare me the dramatics, General," Cate drawled. "You act like I made her a sacrifice to the Cauldron or something. It was a simple dreamcatcher spell, nothing more."

His anger flared again at her flippant attitude, and he had to clench his jaw to keep himself from exploding.

"A dreamcatcher spell?" Cassian repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is that all it is? Just a simple little spell, huh?"

"Indeed it is," Cate confirmed with a shrug. "No lasting consequences, I assure you. The nightmares are gone, and your mate should get a peaceful rest for a good while."

His hands itched to strangle her, the casual way she spoke about his mate's mental well-being driving him insane.

"And that's it?" he asked, his voice tight. "There's no price to pay for this 'simple little spell'? No cost?"

"No price you pay at any rate," Cate said, a grin on her face.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion at her words.

"What does that mean?" Cassian growled, taking another step closer to her.

Her smile widened, the gleam in her eyes almost predatory.

"Oh, General, you're so easy to read," she taunted, her voice low. "You always were. You wear your emotions on your sleeve like a damn fool."He bristled at her words, his hands clenching into fists.

"Cut to the point," Cassian grit out. "What do you mean there's no price we have to pay?"

"Exactly that," she repeated.

He let out a frustrated huff, his patience wearing thin.

"Don't play coy with me," Cassian snarled. "What is the catch? There's always a catch with you."

Her smirk turned even more arrogant, her tone still dripping with mockery.

"Is it so hard to believe that I would do something selflessly? Out of the goodness of my heart? You always think I have some ulterior motive. It's quite insulting, really."

He sneered at Cate’s words, his anger making him fearless.

"You? Selfless?" he shot back, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Yeah, right. You've never done anything that didn't benefit yourself in some way. Never."

She let out a scoff, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"You have such a low opinion of me, don't you?" Cate said, her voice cool. "It's almost endearing, how you don't trust me at all. Not that I'm surprised, of course. You've never believed in my good intentions -" 

He cut her off with an angry scoff. "Good intentions?" he repeated, his voice rising in volume. Her only intentions seemed to cause Chaos. He had lost count of how many different things she had her grubby little hands throughout the centuries…how often she had decided to twist fate around her little finger. 

"You expect me to believe that you had good intentions when you cast a spell on my mate without my permission? That you were being selfless and not scheming something?"

She rolled her eyes again, clearly becoming more irritated.

"You have no idea how much I helped your mate," she said with a huff. "That girl was tired and drained to the bone. She could barely function. I did you both a favour by taking away her nightmares. That's all there is to it, General. Besides, she doesn't need your permission." 

He clenched his jaw, his anger turning almost painful.

"You had no right," he bit out, his voice taut with fury. "No right to touch her, to cast a spell on her, without my knowing. She's my mate, not yours. I was supposed to protect her, and you interfered with that."

Cassian wasn't sure what possessed him. It was fundamentally stupid, to attack her in her own apartment, where the wards listened to her. And still, he reached to throttle her.

He lunged for her, propelled by his anger and frustration.

But just as his hands were about to close around her throat, a blast of magic hit him square in the chest, sending him flying back.

Cassian hit the wall with a thud, the air getting knocked out of his lungs. He cursed, pain coursing through him as he slumped down to the ground.

"Do. Not. Put. Your. Hands. On. Me." Cate hissed.

"What exactly is going on here?" Came the icy voice of his brother. Bare chested, barefoot...clearly coming from bed That godforsaken jaguar at his side.

Cate had stabbed him and that stupid jaguar had taken a bite out of him. He had forgotten neither. 

Cassian looked up to see Azriel standing in the doorway, the shadowsinger's eyes fixed on him with a hint of irritation.

The jaguar at his side growled low in its throat, its eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Azriel," he grunted as he pulled himself up, his body still aching from the blast of magic. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, his voice harsh.

"I'm here to deal with this scheming witch," he bit out, his anger still burning within him as he gestured towards Cate. Azriel glanced at the witch in question, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"That scheming witch has a name," Cate shot back. "You are supposed to sleep, Azriel," she said quietly, but Azriel just shrugged, still glaring at Cassian.

"What exactly is your problem?" Azriel asked him.

"My problem?" Cassian repeated, his voice still charged with anger. "My problem is that this meddling witch decided to mess with my mate without my knowledge."

"I was helping her," Cate cut in, her voice sharp. "More than you have in months."

He turned to glare at her, his anger once more reaching boiling point.

"I don't want your help," he spat. "You had no right to cast that spell on her. No right!"

"I had every right," Cate shot back, her own anger flaring. "That girl was a mess, and you were blind to it! You were ignoring her struggles, letting her suffer in silence. Someone had to step in."

"I was handling it!" he argued, his voice rising. "My mate is my responsibility, not yours. I was the one who was supposed to protect and care for her, not you!"

"And that worked so well, didn't it?" Cate said, her voice like a whip. "She was drowning under the weight of her nightmares, and you were doing nothing to help her. You call that protecting her?"

"Cate helped Nesta as a Favour to me," Azriel said evenly.

He spun to frown at his brother.

"A favour? What kind of favour?" he asked, suspicion in his voice.

Azriel walked closer to them, his footsteps almost silent. He looked exhausted, the muscles in his bare chest still tense. The jaguar followed him, its tail sweeping the ground. 

"A favour," Azriel repeated, his tone flat. "I asked her to help Nesta."

"You what?" he asked, shock and anger warring in his gut. "You asked her to help my mate? Without telling me?"

Azriel let out an exasperated huff, his eyes narrowed. "Yes, I asked her. And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd overreact. And lo and behold, here you are, overreacting."

He felt his fury rise at Azriel's nonchalant reply.

"Overreacting?" he spluttered, his voice rising in disbelief. "You're calling this overreacting? You asked this scheming witch to mess with my mate, and you think I'm overreacting?"

"I didn't ask her to 'mess' with your mate," Azriel said impatiently, his own irritation evident in his voice. "I asked her to help, plain and simple. It's not like I didn't have a reason, Cassian. Nesta needed help, and you were clearly not providing it."

Cassian clenched his fists, his anger flaring even higher. "And you thought Cate was the right person to help her? You know how she operates. You know how she is. You trusted her to help my mate?"

Azriel raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do know how she is. Which is why I trust her."

He let out a bark of incredulous laughter at that response.

"You trust her?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You actually trust her? After everything she's done? After everything she's messed with over the centuries, you trust her?"

And Cate had done a lot. Not many people had her kind reputation...the kind born out of fear and respect... Hecate The Undying. She was a ghost story. And she had meddled in politics over centuries and had changed the history of Prythian more than once. 

His eyes flicked to Cate, who was watching the argument with an amused expression on her face. She gave him a sly smile, aware of his inner turmoil.

"You're out of your mind," he told Azriel, his voice tight. "How can you possibly trust her? She's a master of manipulation and deception. She thrives on chaos and disaster."

"Aww," Cate cooed. "It's so cute that you think you know me."

He turned to glare at her, his jaw clenching.

"I know enough," Cassian bit out, his voice harsh. "I know enough to be wary of you. You're dangerous, Cate. You're untrustworthy. You're a scheming, conniving whore -"

"Enough," Azriel bit out.

"And you -" Cassian rounded on Azriel. He spun to face his brother, his anger boiling over.

"You," he snapped. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like this? Asking Cate to help my mate without telling me. Behind my back. You KNEW how I felt about her, and you still went ahead and did it!"

"How much of an idiot can you be, Azriel? I hope to gods, her cunt is worth it," he sneered. "Don't come crying to me when cuts off your manhood for waking up on the wrong side of the bed." 

Azriel's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing.

"Watch your mouth, Cassian," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know anything about my relationship with Cate, so don't presume to make assumptions. And as to my manhood, I'll have you know that she's far too fond of it to take it away from me."

He felt his own anger spike at Azriel's dismissive tone.

"Fond of it, huh?" he retorted, his voice sharp. "Fond enough to keep you in line, clearly. Gods, you're so blind, brother. You think she really cares about you? About anyone? She's using you, can't you see that?"

"She doesn't care about anyone but herself," he continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "And the second she gets bored with you, she'll toss you aside like a toy she no longer has any use for. You're just another gullible male, fooled by her charm and wits."

Bright green sparks of magic hit him, at that moment. Cassian could nearly taste her magic. Cate was cast in an eery glow.

He stumbled back a few steps, the magic from the woman hitting him like a blow. The room seemed to grow darker, all his senses tingling. It was a potent, overwhelming magic - ancient and primal, like thunder and storms.

"Enough, Cate," he heard Azriel say softly, but Cate's eyes were fixed on him, a strange intensity in her gaze.

"Out." One word, laden with power. "And do not come back."

The power in her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Cassian found himself backing away, the anger draining from him and being replaced with a sense of utter fear. It was an unfamiliar feeling, to be so utterly powerless in the face of a woman's anger.

"Cate..." he began, but the look in her eyes silenced him instantly. He turned to face his brother, but Azriel refused to meet his gaze.

Azriel was watching the witch, and the look on his face was...reverent. Awed.

"Go calm down, Cassian. it's only a dreamcatcher spell. Nothing else. I vow on that for my life."

[hxnbi]

Hallooo I love your writing sm it’s literally so yummy٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ Would it be possible to do a scenario with the boys in which reader calls them and it’s really vague (like maybe reader just got off from a fight and they’re really hurt and kind of loopy because of the blood loss or something but they’re not dying just taking a punch induced sleep (but the boys don’t know that LMAO)) and then just ends it with “I might not be able to come today, I love you” (imagine if the boys couldn’t pick their phone up at first so reader leaves a voice message 👀) (With suo if possible🙏(and maybe any of the other boys)) Once again thank you so much for making these works, they’re such a fun read٩( ᐛ )و

⸻ ❀°。❝ HIS WORLD IN A LOOP ❞

₊˚✿ pairings. hayato suo x gn. reader ₊˚✿ contents. reverse angst, comfort, fluff ₊˚✿ note. hope it was to your liking :)

SUO was busy that day, that was apparent. The entirety of Furin was dealing with a water leakage in the school as a result of a recent thunderstorm, and everyone, regardless of their commitments, volunteered to help patch up the school that was their meeting place, including Suo. 

Umemiya came up to him with a sheepish expression, musing, “Mannn, sorry about this you guys. Are you sure you all don’t have anything else to do?”

Mitsuki, finally pulling his head out of the clouds, looked up from his phone. “Hm? Oh, sure. But can I finish my game first? I’m almost past this round.”

Tsugeura, shouting it to the entirety of the classroom, declared, “I will help out as well! To restore the school to its former glory! That’s my virtue!”

‘He’s definitely dying young…’ everyone deadpanned.

Sakura narrowed his face into a grimace. “Then get to working instead of spitting nonsense, you lazy lump.”

“S-Sakura-san! Y-You can’t say that!!”

“What? Who says you can tell me what I can and can’t say?”

“Aww, don’t be such a jerk, Sakura-kun!” Suo chimed in.

“HUH?”

Hiragi, who was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, exhaled a sigh. “What about you, Suo?”

Suo shook his head. “If everyone else is pitching in to help, then it’s only right that I should, too," he said, flashing a smile that made Hiragi feel a sense of relief that there was at least one sane person in this room of madness.

Sakura, paying little attention, scoffed. “Figures. Of course, something like that would come out of your mouth.”

Hard labour followed as they all got to work, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into their tasks. So much so, that, when Suo’s phone, which was in his pocket, rang, he could hardly even hear it. Rather, he attributed it to a hallucination. But seeing that it was your name on the caller ID, he excused himself almost instantly. 

He held the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

Silence. 

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Are you alright?”

“...”

Silence again, but Suo could’ve sworn that he heard something else, and it didn't help his already confused state. Right as your voice came through in the most stomach-churning way imaginable.

“Hayato, I might not be able to come to the cafe today… I love you.”

And then the phone cut-off, making Suo’s face scrunch up in confusion. Suo was silent for a second, and then another. What on earth did you mean by that?! Suo could've sworn that he heard the sounds of ambulances from the other end of the phone, which didn’t exactly ease his worries, but it was as good a start as any. And so, that’s where he was going to go.

And after sweat and quite literal tears being shed, Suo arrived, and banged his heads onto the counter of the font desk. 

“Is a patient named y/n here?!”

The nurse nodded her head, typing rapidly on the monitor before directing him with a wave of her hand and a short message of where you were supposedly located.

The elevator ride felt excruciatingly long, all the while tapping his foot up and down in agitation—and the worried looks from the other people in the elevator (at a rather far distance, mind you) didn’t exactly calm his nerves.

“Hayato!" you lit up. "You’re here! Sorry about that, I called you earlier, but my phone cut off at th—”

But before you could mutter another word, Suo took you into his words, making the nurses and doctor quickly scramble out of the room so they didn’t ruin this “romantic moment.” Romantic moment in hell, perhaps.

“What happened? How did it happen? Did you fall? Where did you get all those injuries??” It was so unlike him to worry, and yet, you felt his concern seep through every word.

“I just tripped and fell face-first onto the ground! Nothing serious.” You exchanged a smile, in hopes to assure him that your jury wasn’t serious, but Suo begs to differ. But regardless, you continued to ramble. “The doctor told me that I’d be better as soon as in 24 hours, once I get some proper bed rest and medication.”

Suo’s entire face went pale. “How could you ever say that is enough for you to be fine?!? Do you not know that the ground you’re talking about is concrete?!”

“Well, now I do.”

“Y-You… You had me so worried,” he exhaled in and out with deep, laborious breaths, and who could blame him? For all he knew, he assumed that you were seriously hurt. “I thought…”

Gently, you placed your hand over his. “Oh, Hayato, you worry too much.”

He exhaled a sigh. “I’d argue that I don’t worry enough…”

“Don’t be such a worrywart,” you chuckled, remaining lighthearted. “Look! I can get up and walk just fine! Just watch me walk out of here with no problem!”

“Y-Y/n?! What are you doing?! Stay in bed!!!”

“Fine~” Doing what you were told, you sunk your body back into the mattress and blanket, which, admittedly, you found rather comfortable. You stifled a chuckle once you saw the expression on Hayato's face, a mix of exasperation, relief, and sweat that dripped from his forehead down to the ground

Seeing the chaotic scene that is you finally deciding to rest and taking a heartfelt breather, Suo collapsed back into his seat, leaning his head backwards and fixing the mess of his heart from the mess you made. “You’re lucky that I love you…”

You cracked a smile. “I know, Hayato. I know.”

Before long, you drifted off to sleep.

Suo hardly found it amusing, not when he was scared half to death that even he—someone usually so composed—could act this way over someone else. But then again, you were not just “someone else.”

Suo stifled a smile when you were asleep. His heart ached, and he gently reached out to caress your hand with both of his, careful as to not wake you. Holding your hand to his face, he felt the warmth of your soft, tender, yet bruised skin against his cheek.

He was just glad that you were okay...

With a tenderness that belied his usual enigmatic manner, he kissed your ring finger softly, his lips lingering close by as if to imprint the moment in his memory forever. A simple act filled with unexpressed affection that he could not bring himself to voice.

“You’re exhausting, but I love you so much…”

Unbeknownst to him, you weren’t fast asleep, nor were you dozing, but fully awake and dazed out of your mind from Suo’s sudden confession.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[diariesofthelover]

A New Regular

synopsis: After his favorite bookstore in Gotham went out of business, Jason had to find a new one that he’d actually like. He decided to check out one a couple blocks down from his apartment in hopes that it’ll be a decent replacement, when he goes in he finds something worth coming back for.

notes: Jason Todd x reader, 3rd person pov, reader works at a bookstore.

Of course Jason’s favorite bookstore went out of business. It was a small store tucked away in one of Gotham’s less populated neighborhoods meaning that they never got enough sales and it didn’t help that their star customer was “dead” for a couple years.

Now he had to go searching for a replacement, god he had a strong dislike for that word, something that’ll at least be adequate enough since he knew that nothing could ever replace his original bookshop. Not with all the memories, the owners who knew him so well, the atmosphere, and that certain smell that brought him back to the last time where he actually felt happy. The place meant more to him than just a bookstore, it was a piece of his childhood that wasn’t tainted by anything, and now it’s gone.

His search began with another small shop that was only a few blocks down from his apartment, convenient. He wasn’t excited about this, no, he didn’t want to be doing this in the first place. His place should’ve never closed, it should still be there running and waiting for him, but it wasn’t which upset him more than he thought it would.

With a slight scowl on his face he made the walk to the unfamiliar bookstore by his apartment. Jason’s hood was up as usual, trying to keep his face away from people on the street for numerous reasons.

After a few minutes he made it to the possible replacement. It was nuzzled in between a cafe and a record store, fitting. It was small, smaller than the rest of the businesses on the block. With uncertainty Jason walked in, a doorbell sounded signaling his entrance. There were only a few other customers in the store, quietly picking out books to escape to, and no workers in sight.

“At least I won’t be bothered,” he thought to himself.

He headed straight for the classics, hoping to stumble upon a work he hasn’t read yet, practically impossible. As he searched through the novels he heard footsteps coming to this section, being who he was Jason was able to pick up on them several seconds before they got to where he was. When the steps came to a stop Jason looked up from the books to see who was near him now, was it curiosity, paranoia, or both?

What he faced was someone who was either an employee or an extreme book enthusiast as she was holding a stack of books that went so far up that her face was hidden behind the literature.

His first thought was to help, that’s the kind of guy he was or at least used to be, but he didn’t do anything as he looked away and went back looking for books to read. He wasn’t interested in meeting new people and talking to strangers anymore, even if they shared the same love for reading as he did. In fact, the idea alone made his stomach churn which is why he minded his business and kept to himself. People were probably better off without him in their lives anyway.

All of a sudden there was a crash as each book fell to the floor, the noise startling him a little.

“Shit,” he heard the girl swear under her breath as she squatted down to pick up the books.

Jason glanced over to her, she had a name tag signaling that she worked there as well as a defeated expression on her face. The longer he stood there not helping, the faster the guilt began to seep in.

God fucking damn it, fine.

Before he could even register what he was doing, Jason squatted down across from her helping her retrieve the dropped books.

“Oh thank you, you really didn’t have to,” she said shyly.

Jason didn’t respond, instead he gave her a slight nod as his way of saying, “no worries”. He was trying his best to avoid any eye contact and keep his eyes locked on the books but he couldn’t help but take a look at her face.

She was beautiful, fuck, so beautiful actually she may as well of come out of one of the novels she dropped. He quickly looked back down again hoping a blush hadn’t formed on his face, he knew that if he spoke now he’d stutter and make a fool out of himself.

She couldn’t help but steal a couple of glances of him as well. Her gaze went from book to him then back to the books then to his perfect face again. Some may have found him to look incredibly intimidating, most actually, and she did but she also thought him to be incredibly handsome. Maybe she’d been reading too much but he looked like he’d be a character from any of those classic romance novels that she loved.

Jason rose as he gathered the remaining novels. She looked up at him from where she was kneeling below him and to her he looked like god. Forget Austen’s novels, he was from a greek myth. His shoulders muscular and broad even under his red hoodie and brown leather jacket, his thighs thick with muscles hidden under the denim, and his height…well he was certainly tall, much taller than she. She had to be mindful of her facial expressions as she gawked at him for far too long.

He tried to make himself look smaller, tried to relax his muscles and hunch over. He didn’t want to intimidate her or scare her off. After being resurrected, his body began to change rapidly. Yes puberty kicked in but the lazarus pit was like an intense steroid resulting in him being huge, an absolute unit.

Sure, he liked how he looked when he was suited up as Red Hood but when he was without his mask and armor, he left like a brute. His size made him feel like some sort of monster. He didn’t want to scare good people away, especially women, but he knew he appeared incredibly intimidating to them all regardless of what he wanted.

And the scars, god that was the worst part for him. His body is scattered with them from all the fighting he’s done and violence he’s endured, his face not left unmarked either. As a kid, he thought they were cool, that it meant that you were strong and a survivor, now it makes him feel weak and reminds him of what has happened to him and what he became as a result. Each scar held a story, not the kinds he wants to be reading about.

All of these thoughts were swirling in Jason’s head as the bookstore worker looked up at him in what he thought was horror and disgust.

To his surprise she stood up with half of the novels in her hands with a sweet smile on her face.

“Thank you again, that was very kind of you,” she softly said still with a smile on her perfect face.

Jason hadn’t been called kind in awhile, it caught him off guard for a moment as a small smile broke out on his face.

“No problem,” was all he chose to say as he handed her the rest of the books.

“Do you need help finding anything? I practically know where everything is, especially in this section,” she let out a small laugh.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “I’m just browsing, thank you,” his deep voice contradicted his shy tone as he turned his back to her before she could see the blush that threatened to paint his structured face.

“Okay, well just let me know you if need anything, I’ll be around,” she said a little awkwardly.

Disappointed, she went over to the shelf behind Jason to do her job.

The two couldn’t help but look over their shoulders to sneak glances at one another, never catching each other in the process.

She only had one more book left to put away, Frankenstein. Of course, it was on the same shelf that Jason was currently browsing through.

“Excuse me, sorry,” she came up behind him to slip the last novel on the shelf. Jason stepped to the side giving her space, his eyes caught on the book in her hand.

She noticed his possible interest and stopped herself from returning it to its place.

“Oh, did you want to see this one?” She had a hopeful expression on her face as she reached the book out for him to take.

Jason read Frankenstein when he was younger but he hadn’t gone back to it since his death, he feared that it would hit too close to home. He didn’t want to relate to the monster, especially as much as he did, he wanted things to be different. He’d oftentimes fantasize about a life where he didn’t get killed or at least a world where Batman avenged him, these fantasies only screwed with his head more. Maybe it was time for him to really look at reality through a fictional lens, maybe it could help him figure some shit out.

Jason accepted her offer, his calloused fingers brushing against hers when he grabbed the book.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he examined the new cover.

“I really enjoyed that one, it’s actually one of my favorites,” she beamed but got no response from Jason. She quickly grew embarrassed as she felt that he was bothered by her talking and overall presence. In reality, he wanted to hear more. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, she turned away ready to leave him alone.

“Why’s that?” He suddenly asked causing her to turn back around again, his focus still on the book in his large hands.

Caught off guard she took awhile to respond, “The story, the character, well everything about it really I could go on and on.”

Jason finally looked at her, his cheeks heated but he didn’t care he wanted to talk to her.

“I’m listening.”

The pair went on to discuss the book that they both had a love for. Luckily, the store remained relatively dead and no one intruded on their conversation. Jason was mesmerized by the way she spoke and the way she thought. She was charmed by how good of a listener he was and his own takes.

For the next couple hours they had jumped from book to book, connecting pieces of their personal lives to literature, it was their way of getting to know each other.

He felt silly for ever worrying about finding a place that at least was decent. He ended up finding a treasure, one worth coming back for again and again.



[itneverendshere]

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (four)

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: terrible parents; angst;

part one; part two; part three

Rafe hadn’t expected it. 

Hell, if you’d told him a month ago this was all the time he was going to get with you, he’d have laughed in your face. Called it nonsense.

He wouldn’t have believed for a second that it’d end like this. Never like this.

He thought he had time, you know? Figured there was always another day, another night. A part of him thought maybe, just maybe, the worst was already behind him. Like he’d gone through the storm and came out the other side, still standing, still Rafe.

And damn if it doesn’t feel like someone took a sledgehammer to his ribs, and splintered everything wide open. He wasn’t ready for it. 

He hadn’t expected to feel this way—like his chest was cracked wide open. He thought the worst was over. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

The knock at the door was insistent, and Rafe’s body went stiff. He knew it wasn’t you. You would never knock like that. But before he could even take a breath, his mother’s voice cut through the silence, slurring.

“Rafe! Open the damn door!”

He groaned, already feeling the dread creeping up his body. Tony’s gravelly laugh followed her words, and Rafe felt his stomach twist. He didn’t need this—not now. Not ever, really. But he sure as hell didn’t need it tonight. He pushed off the beat-up couch, his hands curling into fists as he made his way to the door, the smell of stale liquor hitting him before his eyes even landed on her. His mother stood there, swaying on her feet, Tony leering over her shoulder with that same stupid grin on his face. Rafe’s stomach churned.

“Well, look who finally decided to answer,” she slurred the words tumbling out in a laziness. “You think you’re too good for us now, huh, boy?”

He bit down on his lip hard, jaw tight as he tried to keep his voice steady. “What the hell do you want?”

Her boyfriend chuckled, a sound that made Rafe’s skin crawl. “Ain’t no way to talk to your mama, son.”

His mother stumbled forward, her breath reeking of whiskey, and Rafe recoiled as the boyfriend leaned against the doorframe, a sneer plastered on his face. This wasn’t the time.

He was just trying to keep his head down, trying to survive one day at a time. He couldn’t handle their bullshit on top of everything else.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother?” she slurred, her words barely coherent. “We were just having a little chat with some very important people.”

He had a feeling he knew where this was going. His mother had a nasty habit of sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, especially when it came to him and you.

“We had a little chat with that girl’s parents. You know, the one you’ve been sneakin’ around with? Sweet little thing.”

He gripped the edge of the door so hard his knuckles turned white. Of course she’d drag you into this. Of course. He’d tried so damn hard to keep you out of this mess, keep you away from people like her and Tony. And here they were, running their mouths. No. No, they didn’t.

"Figured they should know who their little girl’s been runnin’ around with."

You didn’t deserve this. None of it. If your parents got wind of anything his mother and Tony said, it was over. He'd lose you for sure.

“She’s got some real high-class parents, doesn’t she?” Tony jeered, lighting a cigarette with the same nonchalance that made Rafe want to punch him the face. “And they don’t seem too thrilled that their little princess has been slumming it with a loser like you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might shatter. His mother’s eyes gleamed with a sick sort of satisfaction, watching him, waiting for him to break.

 “What the hell did you do?”

His mother swayed closer, her smile cruel. “Told ‘em the truth. Told ‘em about you. And guess what? They ain’t too happy about their precious daughter runnin’ around with a nobody like you.”

Rafe’s pulse pounded in his ears. They couldn’t—this couldn’t be happening. His mother leaned in closer, her breath stinking of alcohol, her grin spreading as she saw the panic in his eyes.

“They gave us a nice little payday. Enough to ship your sorry ass out of here.”

Rafe stepped back. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” His voice was shaking now.

Tony exhaled smoke into the small space. “Maybe the military will straighten you out, huh? Or maybe some far-off place where no one gives a damn if you disappear.”

You. This was about you. They had gone to your parents. They’d ruined everything. Everything he’d been trying to protect.

“I didn’t sign up for this shit,” Rafe snarled, “You think I’m just gonna let you—let them—tear us apart? You can’t do this!” He shouted, his voice cracking. “You don’t get to control my life!”

His mother’s eyes gleamed with a twisted sort of satisfaction, the kind that only came when she knew she had the upper hand. “Oh, but we already did, baby. Your girl’s parents agreed, and you’re goin’. Ain’t no one fightin’ for you now, you’re still seventeen.”

His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms twitching with barely restrained anger. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he hissed, stepping forward, his face inches from his mother’s. “You can’t just ship me off like some damn dog.”

Her smile faltered for a second, but then she laughed, “Oh, honey, it’s already done. You’ll be outta here by the end of the week.”

Her boyfriend grinned, stepping closer. “Ain’t no point in fightin’ it, son. She’s movin’ on with her life, and you’ll be just a bad decision she’ll forget about real quick.”

He felt like he was drowning, he couldn’t get his head above water. “I won’t let you do this.”

His mother’s voice softened, her southern lilt sounding almost sweet again. But the cruelty never left her eyes. “It’s done, Rafe. You’re leavin’. And she’ll forget all about you. It’s better this way, for both of ya.”

Rafe stumbled back, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might tear through his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He was losing you. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.

Hours later he stared at the phone in his hand, his grip tightening until his knuckles went white. His chest felt like it was about to cave in. Seventeen. That’s what this all came down to. Still under their control, still bound by the decisions other people made for him. He couldn’t stop this. He couldn’t fight it because, technically, they were still in charge of his life. And you—God, you had no idea.

How was he supposed to tell you? How could he look you in the eye and admit that this whole thing was out of his hands? That your parents were behind it, just like his mom? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d rather you hate him, think he gave up on you, than let you hate your own family. You had enough going on, and if he told you the truth...you were too sweet for the cruel truth.

Better it be him.

He sat onto the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to get a grip, but it wasn’t working. The thought of leaving you—of never seeing you again—burnt him. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to walk away from the only good thing in his life?

“Fuck…” Rafe muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands like the pain might wake him up from this nightmare.

But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. And in two days, he’d be gone.

He stood, pacing the length of the small room, the room you’d spent so many nights in, sneaking in when no one was looking, your laugh filling the empty spaces that usually felt cold. He wanted to smash something, to break the caving walls, tear them apart, for ripping you away from him. He’d spent so long telling himself he wasn’t good enough for you, that you deserved better than a guy like him.

Now, it didn’t matter. You were getting ripped away, and he couldn’t even fight for it. Not really. All because they decided he was the wrong kind of guy. A problem they could pay off to disappear.

Rafe had always known the people around him didn’t think much of him, but hearing it from them, hearing that they were actually doing something about it, like he was trash to be thrown out—that was a whole other kind of hit.

He threw himself down on the bed, his fists pressing into his temples. His breath was coming fast, too fast, and he knew he was spiraling. He kept seeing you in his mind—the way you’d looked at him, like he was more than just some messed-up kid with a drunk mom and a loser life. Like you saw something worth keeping.

“Why you gotta be so perfect?” he muttered, voice cracking as he blinked up at the ceiling, jaw tight. He didn’t want to cry, not for this, not now, but it was damn near fucking impossible to stop the lump in his throat from swelling. The idea of never seeing you again, never feeling your fingers slip into his, or hearing that soft laugh that made all the shit in his life feel a little less heavy, it was killing him.

He wished he could blame you, blame anyone but himself. Maybe if he’d been different, if he’d tried harder to be someone your parents could accept, maybe then none of this would be happening. But he was who he was. And that wasn’t good enough.

He punched the pillow beside him, wishing it was Tony’s face, wishing it was something that could actually fix the mess he was in. But it didn’t matter. In two days, they’d be shipping him off to God knows where, far enough that he’d be out of your life for good. And by the time he came back—if he came back—you’d have moved on. You’d have forgotten him, found someone better. Someone you didn’t have to sneak around with. Someone who wouldn’t drag you into his mess.

Rafe sat up suddenly, his hands shaking as he reached for his phone. He had to see you, one last time, had to explain something, anything, before they took him away. He knew you’d hate him for not telling you the truth, but he couldn’t leave things like this. Not without seeing your face, not without hearing your voice.

His thumb hovered over your name, and for a second, he hesitated. Would it hurt more to see you now, knowing it was all going to end anyway? Was he just making things worse for himself?

He didn’t care. He needed you.

The phone rang once, twice, and his heart was racing so fast it felt like it might stop altogether. Then your voice came through the line, all soft and sleepy.

“Baby?”

For a second, all the panic, all the anger, melted away. Just hearing your voice was enough to make him breathe again.

“Can you come over? I just… I need to see you.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. “No, ’m not.”

You didn’t ask any more questions, didn’t push him for details. You just said, “I’ll be there in ten,” and that was it.

Rafe hung up and stared at the phone in his hand, feeling like time was slipping away, faster than he could grab hold of it. Ten minutes. Ten minutes before he saw you again. But this time, it wasn’t going to be like before. It wasn’t going to be a stolen moment between two people trying to escape their worlds for a little while. This was goodbye. Even if he couldn’t say it.

And he wasn’t ready for that.

When you showed up that night, Rafe almost couldn’t look at you. It felt like everything was making it impossible to breathe. You walked in, so soft and sweet, with that little smile like you’d been thinking about him all day, and it just about wrecked him right then and there.

He couldn’t tell you what was going on. Couldn’t stand to see that look on your face when you found out your parents had something to do with all of this. So, instead, he pulled you close, pressing his lips to yours like he needed it to survive.

"Rafe…" you murmured against his mouth, and that one word, just his name, it made him weak. He was already unraveling, already coming apart at the seams. You kissed him back, your hands slipping around his neck, and it was like nothing else existed but you. Just you.

He didn’t say anything when you both fell onto his bed. You didn’t ask questions; you never did when he got like this. Maybe you knew something was off, maybe you felt the tension in his body, but you never pushed him.

Rafe kissed you deeper, more desperate this time, hands touching all over your body like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. And maybe he was. Maybe he knew this was the last time, the last night he’d get to hold you like this.

When you whispered his name again, softer this time, he couldn’t hold back. His hands fumbled at your clothes, and soon enough, the two of you were tangled in each other, the room filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, your quiet gasps, and the low rumble of his voice in your ear.

He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay in that moment forever, with you. But nothing ever lasted for him. Not the good stuff, anyway.

Later, when your breathing had evened out, Rafe just lay there, watching you sleep. Your face was so peaceful, your hair spilling across the pillow like you didn’t have a care in the world. He wanted to keep you safe from all of this. From his world, from the shitstorm that was coming for him. That’s why he couldn’t tell you about what your parents did, or what his own mother was planning. You didn’t need that burden.

You were curled up against him, looking peaceful. He couldn’t believe how perfect you looked, even now, in this tiny, beat-up room that didn’t deserve to hold someone like you. This was the last night he’d get to hold you, to feel you this close.

Carefully, like he was afraid to wake you, Rafe reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered there, gently tracing the curve of your cheek. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted nothing more than to stay with you, to wake up beside you in the morning like everything was normal, like none of this was happening. But he couldn’t. He knew he had to go.

His hand moved, almost on its own, cupping your face with a tenderness he rarely let himself show around other people. His thumb brushed over your cheek, then down to your lips, tracing them softly like he was memorizing how they felt. You shifted in your sleep, but didn’t wake, and he let out a shaky breath, grateful for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes stung, but he blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall. You didn’t deserve any of this—didn’t deserve to wake up in the morning and find him gone. But it was better this way.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a second, and then he slipped out of bed, as quiet as he could. His heart was pounding like crazy, and he knew if he didn’t leave now, he might not have the guts to do it. He grabbed his backpack, the one he’d packed earlier when you didn’t see, and took one last look at you.

Rafe couldn’t let them take him away from you, not without trying to get out first. Running was the only option he had left, the only way to stay out of military school and out of their control. He wanted to go back, to hold you one more time, but he couldn’t. This was it.

When you woke up everything was quiet.

The first thing you noticed was the empty space beside you, where Rafe's body should've been. You sat up, blinking in the dark room. He wasn't supposed to work. He had the day off, and you always spent them together. But he wasn't there. He never left before you woke up. Never. You looked around, squinting into the corners, expecting to see him leaning against the beat up walls, a smirk on his face like he was just waiting for you to notice him.

But there was nothing.

The sheets were still tangled around you, the room so still it felt suffocating. You reached out, your hand landing on your side of the bed, and it felt cold. The kind of cold that told you he'd been gone for a while. That this wasn't some stupid joke or a dream you were about to shake off.

“Rafe?” You called softly, like saying his name out loud might conjure him back. But there was only silence. You pushed the sheets off, your bare feet hitting the floor as you stumbled to stand. Where was he? You scanned the room, feeling the first threads of panic tightening in your chest. His bag—God, his stupid beat-up backpack—wasn't there.

No. No, no, no.

You yanked the door open, half expecting him to be out in the hall, smoking or brooding like he did when something was eating him up inside. But the house was empty. Completely empty. The kind of empty that told you he was gone for good. You felt it in your gut.

Rafe wouldn’t. He wouldn’t just leave you. Not without a word, not without telling you where he was going. Your hands were trembling as you reach for your phone, the screen lighting up your face in the darkness. You went to Rafe's messages, scrolling, hoping—praying—that there was something from him. But it was empty. No calls, no texts. Just nothing.

You clutched the phone tighter, a small, desperate part of you wanting to call him, to hear his voice, to ask him why the hell he left you like this. But you knew he wouldn't pick up. Somehow, you just knew.

Rafe had told you to come over, and you hadn't given it a second thought. Because why would you? Why would you ever think that it would be the last time? The last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd kiss him like everything was going to be fine. You trusted him. You trusted him to let you in, to tell you what was going on.

But he didn’t. Rafe didn’t tell you anything.

A sob choked out of your throat, and you slammed the phone down on the counter, gasping for breath. How could he do this to you? He knew what he mean to you. He knew how much you—God, you couldn't even think straight. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to rip this entire place apart until there was nothing left underneath the rubble and dust.

Because that’s what you felt like. Like rubble.

You swiped furiously at the tears that wouldn't stop falling, your vision swimming. Maybe he was just—maybe he was just out somewhere, needing time to think. Maybe he was coming back. You should've called him. You should've at least tried.

But your gut was still screaming at you, you already knew the answer. You felt it the second you woke up to that empty space in bed. Rafe was gone. Really gone. And you didn't even know where he went. Why he'd left. All you had was the cold emptiness of this room, the memory of his hands on your skin just hours ago, his voice in your ear saying your name, like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your phone pinged, and you jumped, heart leaping into your throat. You snatched it up, almost dropping it in your rush. But it wasn't Rafe. It was a text from your mom.

“Sweetheart, hope you’re okay. We should talk.”

Talk? About what?

But then it hit you. They knew. They knew, and they didn’t say a thing. They were part of this. You could sense it, you could see it all so clearly—the way they’d looked at you this past week, the tight smiles, the disapproval they didn’t even bother hiding.

The ache in your chest was spreading, morphing into something darker. They had done this. They did this. And Rafe let them.

You droped the phone. Fuck, he didn’t even give you a choice, did he?

Your hands were trembling again as you read the text over and over. "We should talk." Talk about what? About how they'd helped rip your heart out of your chest? About how they'd taken the one person who made you feel whole and sent him away like he was some kind of mistake?

You understood what had happened. Your parents must’ve paid him off, just like they’d done before with every other thing they didn’t approve of. Except this time, it wasn’t a broken curfew or a failed grade. This was your life. Your heart. If Rafe had been brave enough you would've protected him from them.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate Rafe so bad for walking out, for letting them push him away. Butyou knew he hadn't wanted to leave. You knew him better than that. You could picture him, hurting just as much as you were. The way his lips had felt so desperate against yours last night—it all made sense now. He'd been saying goodbye, and you hadn't even known it.

You curled into yourself, arms wrapping tightly around your knees, wishing you could make this all disappear. Wishing you could wake up and find him next to you, smiling that cocky little smile he always gave you in the mornings.

But this was real. He was gone.

And you had no idea how to put yourself back together.

The only thing keeping you from breaking down completely when you get home, was your gut telling you that he didn't leave because he wanted to. You need answers.

Your parents were talking in the living room, like they hadn't ruined your life. When you walked in, they fell silent, both looking at you with expectant faces—too expectant, like they already knew what you were going to say.

“Sweetheart? What are you—”

“What did you do?” you snapped, your voice cold with fury.

She blinked, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you growled, stepping forward. “What the hell did you do to Rafe?”

Your dad appeared in the doorway, his expression hardening when he saw the look on your face. “Calm down. We need to talk—”

“I’m not calming down!” you shouted, fists clenched at your sides. “Where is he? What did you do?”

Your mom’s lips pursed, and her tone turned that sickly-sweet kind that always made your blood boil. “Honey, we did what was best for you. That pogue—”

“Don’t you dare,” you cut her off, “Don’t you dare talk about him like that. You don’t know him.”

Your dad stepped in, his arms crossed over his chest. “We know enough. He’s trouble, and you were getting too involved. We spoke to his mother—”

“You what?” You could barely breathe. Your heart was hammering in your chest. “You went behind my back and talked to his mom? How could you?”

“Because it was necessary,” your motheer's voice was calm like she was talking to a child. “You couldn’t see what was right in front of you. He’s no good for you, and we couldn’t just sit back and watch you throw your life away on someone like him.”

“Throw my life away?” You felt like you were going to explode. “He’s not—he’s not some fucking charity case! You had no right!”

“Sweetheart, listen,” your dad started, his tone firm. “We were looking out for you. His family… they’re a mess. His mother agreed that it’d be best for him to get some distance. He’s not going to drag you down anymore.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, shaking your head in disbelief. “You think you can just decide that? For me? For him? You think that’s okay?”

“We didn’t decide anything,” your mom said softly. “We just helped things along. The military will give him some structure, and you… you’ll move on. You’ll thank us one day.”

“You’re unbelievable. You think you can just… control everything? This isn’t about protecting me. This is about you not liking him, not liking that he doesn’t fit into your perfect little world.”

Your dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face like he was tired of this conversation. “You’re too young to understand—”

“Don’t.” Your voice cracked. “Don’t treat me like I’m a child. I love him. You had no right to take that away from me.”

Your mom’s face softened, but it didn’t make you feel any better. “We love you. We only want what’s best for you. And trust me, sweetheart, he isn’t it.”

“You don’t get it. You never have. And now… now he’s gone, and it’s your fault.”

Your dad didn’t flinch. “You’ll see. One day, you’ll understand why we did this.”

“I’ll never understand,” you hissed. “And I’ll never forgive you for this.”

[slut4thebroken]

Teacher’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most. 

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay. 

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk. 

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work. 

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively. 

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense. 

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh. 

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink. 

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned. 

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.” 

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.” 

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.” 

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?” 

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.” 

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.” 

“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly. 

“No, but,” 

“Then I think we’re done here.” 

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now. 

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.  

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze. 

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little. 

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments. 

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit. 

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained. 

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile. 

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused. 

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter. 

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly. 

“See them?” 

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone. 

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.” 

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.  

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back. 

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.” 

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down. 

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again. 

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention. 

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?” 

“Anything else?” 

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again. 

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said. 

“Um, I- I’m not sure…” 

“Feel free to use your notes.” 

Fuck. 

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly. 

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself. 

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back. 

“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings. 

“But,” 

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave. 

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on. 

“Professor?” You finally asked. 

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier. 

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk. 

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,” 

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again. 

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now. 

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you. 

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.” 

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.  

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.  

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not. 

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.” 

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.” 

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush. 

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly. 

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours. 

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk. 

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you. 

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in. 

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around. 

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you. 

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair. 

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.” 

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy. 

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far. 

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy. 

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter. 

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” 

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh. 

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.” 

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor. 

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg. 

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other. 

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months. 

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.  

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly. 

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened. 

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.” 

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago. 

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.” 

“That’s good… Anything else?” 

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.” 

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?” 

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.” 

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you. 

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.  

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words. 

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical. 

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?” 

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. 

“Yes.” You whispered shakily. 

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.” 

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock. 

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.” 

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh. 

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty. 

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet. 

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you. 

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?” 

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced. 

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes. 

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.” 

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you. 

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face. 

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock. 

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach. 

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness. 

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.” 

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..” 

“Should I choose for you?” 

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm. 

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure. 

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations. 

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.  

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity. 

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need. 

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing. 

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal. 

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again. 

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances. 

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.” 

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead. 

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste. 

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.” 

[taiyaakii]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Im sorry baby ! . . . ( 西村力 )

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: Fighting, mean ki, angst — now playing: 一子青葉

Sitting on your boyfriend's bedroom floor holding back tears wasn't entirely how you wanted to spend your Friday night.

This fight was stupid, you both knew it and yet it still happened. Granted of course couples fight, it's just what happens. But never has Riki yelled at you like that, over something that wasn't even your fault.

"Riki please, I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."

"I get that, but I've already told you it doesn't matter. Why do you always have to be so damn clingy all the time." Anger laced his voice

"It does matter Niki. It matters when it's hurting you."

"Don't call me that damnit." Using his nickname struck a chord with him. He hated it when you used his nickname. It felt more intimate when you called him Riki or Ki. No one else did, everyone else called him Niki so using his real name and not his stage name felt so good, refreshing almost.

He left the room without saying any more, slamming the door harder than he wanted to.

And now you were left alone on his bedroom floor in his chrome hearts hoodie.

You knew he wasn't in the right headspace, he was tired and stressed. You knew that but you couldn't do anything about it until he talked to you, until he said asked you to help. Riki's never been super open about his feelings but you'd always get him to open up eventually. He's never held them back this much before.

Eventually, you decided to check on him. You wanted to follow him originally but thought he needed space so you left him alone.

You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out first. He was sitting on the couch with his legs up and his head in his hands, pressing up against his eyes, his brows were furrowed, almost as if he was crying. TV was so loud, he hadn't noticed the door opening so you continued. Slowly closing the door behind you, walking up to the corner where the hallway and living space meet.

"Ki?" Hoping the use of the sweet nickname would keep him from getting angry again.

He didn't answer but instead just looked up at you, eyes wet, cheeks pink, lips red and puffy. You were right, he was crying.

Crying wasn't something Riki did, the only times you saw him cry was when he was missing his family, or overly stressed, and you were the same. Tears just never came easy for you, it's something you've been ridiculed for. Being called "Cold" or "Emotionless" was something you became used to, but seeing Riki cry made tears well up in your eyes. You choked them back and went to sit next to him.

He didn't spare you a glance, still spacing off.

You felt so bad. A sinking feeling forms in your stomach. You contemplated just leaving but realistically that wouldn't help anything. Instead, you sat there, contemplating what you would say.

"I'm sorry Ki"

"Stop." He still sounded angry, your stomach churning as you frown slightly.

A short silence, then he follows up with "You have nothing to be sorry for." He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn't your fault he feels like shit, it wasn't your fault he was stressed and overworked but he still took it out on you.

"I made you upset though, I didn't mean to I swear" You sounded so defeated, almost like a child after getting scolded. His heart broke into a million pieces hearing you blame yourself for his outburst. "No no this isn't your fault. I promise it's not you" He finally looked at you. His usual blank gaze transformed into what looked like a puppy dog. His eyes were still wet and brows furrowed with worry and guilt.

You looked back at him with tears welling, he didn't understand how he could treat you, the love of his life, the way he did.

After the dreadful silence, you decided you'd just leave. You didn't want to but the pain of seeing him like this was too much, especially when you couldn't help him.

Riki grabbed your arm, with pleading eyes screaming for you not to go, whether he said it or not. "Where are you going?"

"I was gonna give you space."

He sits on the couch properly and hugs your waist. "Please don't go" His voice was wobbly and quiet "Ki..."

"Please, baby. I love you so much and I promise I'll show it properly." You start to run your hands through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.

"And I'll make it up to you too. It wasn't" He choked on his words "It wasn't right for me to take my stress out on you. You're perfect and you're the only thing that makes me feel right. Please don't leave."

You've never seen him so needy, so clingy. He always clung to you but this is different. He sounded desperate for you. Like he'd die if you walked away "I'm not gonna leave Ki."

He gripped onto your waist tighter "But, I'm your girlfriend Ki. If you're hurting you can tell me... I know work is busy. I know they're overworking you but next just talk to me. Please baby, I love you, and seeing you like this sucks." You move one of your hands to his bicep and start rubbing circles with your thumb, his muscles were sore from dance practice.

"I care about you, and I don't want to fight with you. Especially over this."

"I know, I'll tell you next time. Okay? I'll tell you everything that's going on. I promise" He lifted the sweatshirt you were wearing a little, wearing nothing under, he kissed the side of your stomach.

"Thank you, baby."

He mumbles a small, sleepy "Of course..." while he's still kissing the side of your stomach.

"Let's go to sleep, baby." You say while slightly pushing his head away from your stomach "Mmm okay" He picks you up, burying his head in your neck as he walks to his room.

He lays you down on the bed, laying on top of you, cuddling into you like a little baby. He would never admit it but he loved it when you baby-ied him. Sure in front of the other members, he'd hate it but when you guys are alone and he gets to just be lovey and cheesy, it means so much to him.

"I love you, Ki, so much" When he didn't respond you lifted his hair up to see him just to realize he had already fallen asleep.

Whenever he cries he usually falls asleep in your arms within minutes so this was nothing new.

You kissed his head, while still playing with his hair. You fall asleep in his arms, and at the end of the night, you care for Riki so much and only want the best for him. Fights are going to happen. It's inevitable, but luckily for you, Riki always knew how to make things better, how to make you feel better, he loves you so much, and he'd do anything for you.

-

The next day after school you walk into the house after Riki walks you home just to see a huge container of Smiski blind boxes and flowers on the counter, with a note saying "I love you, baby :)"

You could never stay mad at him

@ featki

Note: This was kinda rushed and not proofread... sorryyyy !! Been thinking ab this for awhile so wanted to write it. ALSO Niki kissing your stomach is NOT meant to be taken in a suggestive way at all. It's cute so don't take it weirdly.

[sparklingblu]

Parádeisos

Miyeon X Male Reader

(Wrote this one based on the tale of Calypso in the Odyssey, bear with my obsession of mythologies)

People call Helen of Troy the face that launched a thousand ships.

That's because they have never seen Miyeon.

Not like you have any idea what Helen looks like. But if a hundred thousand people go to war for her, she must have been a pretty big deal. You would do the same thing for Miyeon. But there isn't anyone who will steal her to start a war or rather, no one can't. That's her problem.

As you stared at her amidst the lush grass under the shade of the trees, you couldn't help but admire how she looked so ethereal, almost inhuman. The way her hair fluttered in the breeze, the delicate fabric of her dress hugging her frame, her eyes that reflected the color of the summer sky. All seemed perfectly orchestrated to capture your attention like a snare and pulled you in deeper like a vortex.

She plucked a flower with her slender fingers and a faint smile crept across her face. You were glad because she rarely smiled, always foreboding with a mysterious expression with her brows furrowed. You wanted to help her except that when you tried to talk to her, she became silent. A few words here, a few words there. Never enough to make a conversation. At this point, you are certain she hated you.

As if to prove your point, she met your gaze with a scowl and tured her attention back towards another organism that wouldn't bother her unlike you. You sighed, shifting your body to turn towards the wide blue sea that seemed to stretch endlessly. The occasional waves rising and falling, sweeping away the white sand of the beach, glittering in the sunlight like diamonds. The crest of the hill surrounding the slopy geography of the island on either sides slithered down smoothly to encircle the beach at either sides.

It's an absolutely panoramic view and you could stare at it for hours. But that's what you had been doing for god knows how long. "Time flows differently here" Miyeon had said. For the love of god, you could have been stranded on this island for a millennia. Everyone in the outside world you know gone forever.

Considering, they even remember you exist. You have never been much of a social type. You were sitting in a corner at prom, sipping on coke when others danced around with their dates. That doesn't mean you are a nerd either. Sure, you studied and your grades weren't bad but not enough to be considered a geek.

You grew up, graduated with a major in Classics and through highs and lows became a professor at a relatively young age. Things were starting to look good when you got a call from a University in another city, telling you you have been chosen. You got on a plane a week later, headed to a new start. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Except that everything did. The first thing you remember is the way the plane suddenly jerked. Then came the sound of the air hostess on the intercom and the flashing emergency lights. You held on to your oxygen mask and prayed to whatever god is out there as the jet spiralled to a free fall. Your internal organs felt like they were on fire.

The sound of the aircraft colliding to a surface of water is the last thing on your mind before you passed out.

Dead would have been a luxury compared to the agonizing pain that accompanied your wake. The first thing on your mind, of course, I'm alive. Then you opened your eyes and started doubting.

The warm glow of the fire in the hearth and the crackling firewood sent a wave of relief over your psyche. You were lying in a bed so fluffy it could have been a cloud. Pulling down the sheets, you sat up.

The faint smell of a stew brewing greets your nostrils, churning your stomach. How long have you been out without food or water? You were clueless.

The rest of the room is circular, the walls solid rock. Countless little crystals the size of your fist glowing like fireflies were embedded in the ceiling, casting an eerie gloom over the cave, making the shadows dance. You have watched in a tv show that Heaven is where you stay in your happiest moments forever. This was not so far from it.

You have always imagined living in a little house by the ocean, free from the hustle of the outside world. Just reading a good book and basking under the sun everyday. Is that it? Have you achieved that?

Out of the corner of your eyes, a shadow slithered across the wall, making you jerk your head to the other side.

And god, you finally believed you are in Heaven. Because there was an angel.

Near the foot of your bed stood a girl. Her doe eyes slowly studying you like an interesting specimen. She blinked and her eyelids flattered gracefully. The smell of the stew got stronger and you realized she is holding a tray with a bowl in it, which, no doubt, contained the stew. She held it far enough not to stain her white column dress, which accentuated her curves in the most elegant way possible. Her long blonde hair was swept to one side of her shoulder, up to her collar bones. Her rosy lips unfolded.

"You are awake"

Just three words but melodic enough to pull you back into reality.

"Yeah...where am I?" You uttered, hoping the answer is Heaven.

"Ogygia" she mused.

"Ogygia? Like the one where Odysseus..?"

"Yes" she nodded.

"But it's not real" You protested.

"It is" she retorted with an expression like she was offended. "You are at the heart of it"

"So...that means you are...?"

"Enough questions" she snapped, placing a bow on a low stool that had somehow magically appeared.

"Have some. It will heal you" she said, though her tone didn't sound so enthusiastic. "I will check on you later" And just like that she walked out from an opening at the corner.

You might as well have been dreaming. You are in Ogygia? That's impossible. It doesn't really exist. Or does it?

The story from the Odyssey, an extremely long poem by Homer that you learned back in university rushed back to you. So basically, there's a hero name Odysseus and he went on quests and all. Then at some point, he got stranded on an island called Ogygia where he met a nymph named Calypso, who was punished by the gods for a reason(it will be too long to explain so let's just skip it) and damned to stay there forever. Immortal but unable to leave.

Calypso kept Odysseus on the island for seven years, trying to win his heart but he was either faithful to his wife or just in general hate nymphs. He rejected her everytime until he was finally able to leave the island.

A tragic tale. But that's all to it. It's a tale. If this island is Ogygia, does it mean the girl is Calypso? She doesn't look much like a nymph but god, she is beautiful. Maybe Odysseus was stupid enough to turn down such a beauty.

But that's a matter to deal with later. Currently, your stomach was growling like a wild beast and the smell of the stew is the only thing on your mind. You picked up the bowl and took a spoonful. A warm feeling spread through your core, easing the pain earlier. It tasted a bit like chicken but you couldn't be sure. You dug in, until the bowl left no evidence of the stew and your hunger was qenched.

Calypso or whoever the girl is didn't seem too happy with your arrival but you felt thankful. She took you in afterall, though you were not sure how you ended up here in the first place. You doubt you were worthy like Odysseus to be saved by the gods.

The stew seemed to be working its magic because you started to feel drowsy. Your eyelids felt weighted down by hundred pounds of iron. You set the bowl back on the stool and submerged yourself back in the warm embrace of the sheets.

-

You didn't know how long you slept but when you open your eyes again, the fire in the hearth had been put out and the crystals in the ceiling have sheathed their glow. A ray of sunlight poured through a hatch in the ceiling.

All your fatigue had been replaced by a new kind of energy. You felt like you could outrun a stallion. (Well, not literally) You got up and stretched. To your surprise, you were wearing the same clothes before your plane crashed. They looked no different from before, cleaner even.

Maybe the girl have washed them? A tinge of excitement ran through your spine. But it quickly disappeared when you remembered she didn't even seem to want to be near you, much less took off your clothes.

You walked through the opening through which the girl had went out before you fell asleep. It opened up into another part of the cave. This one much wider.

A small bed almost identical to the one you slept in lied on one side and a loom on the other. On its side laid stacks of fabrics of different textures and colors. So she's a weaver, you thought.

There was an opening at the end of the cave, giving way to an endless plane of green. You emerged, and the view left you breathless.

As far as your eyes could see, the ocean stretched all around the island. The cave was on a hill, which descended to another hill then to a beach of sparkling white sand.

The most intriguing of all, however, was the garden which stood atop a nearby hill. Filled with vegtation, orchards and endless variety of flowers you had never seen before, it looked like something straight out a fairytale.

You walked down the hill, breathing in the fresh breeze blowing from the sea. You were thinking things couldn't get any better when your eyes caught sight of a slice of heaven.

The girl was on the beach, laying on a blanket, her eyes closed. The two piece swimsuit woven of velvet hugged her body perfectly, outlining every trace of her curves. Her bosoms rised and fell with each breath she took, her flawless skin glowing luminously in the sunlight.

Did she weave that swimsuit herself? You would never know. But you are enjoying the view too much to care. Each breath of hers seemed to fuel your impulse just to walk to her, rip off that swimsuit and-

"Men are all the same"

The words snapped you out of your fantasies. She sat up and turned her head slowly to you, her brows creased.

"Stop staring" she snapped.

"Ehh....I wasn't..."

"Save it" she cut you off. "You slept like a baby"

Was that a compliment? You doubted it.

"Yeah..thanks for you know...saving me"

"I didn't have a choice" her expression turned gloomy. "Sometimes, I don't understand the gods"

"Eh...yes..." you muttered, suddenly remembering the question that has been on your mind. "So you are Calypso..?" you finally dropped it.

She scowled. "God...they still called me that" she picked up a seashell from the sand and twisted it in her fingers. "I grew tired of that name long ago"

"What should I call you then?"

"Miyeon" she answered, throwing the seashell away into the waves. "And you?"

"Gabriel" you answered. "Well, my friends call me Gabie though"

"Gabriel it is then" Miyeon said. A drop of sweat rolled down her temple and god you just wanted to-

"How do you know about me?" Miyeon asked again, crossing her legs smooth as silk.

"Someone named Homer wrote this really long poem and you are featured, you are pretty popular"

"Popular?" she scoffed. "Not for good reasons, I'm sure"

"You did keep Odysseus all to yourself for like seven years so-"

"Oh, shut up" her expression darkened on the mention of her old flame and you knew you had hit a sore spot. "That was like....three thousand years ago, I'm amazed people still talk about it"

"Well, actually I studied all about it"

Her eyebrows raised, like your words made no sense.

"You are a fool" she said. "And a pervert"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I know you have been staring at me, just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I can't sense you"

"Can you blame me?" you asked, and now you did sound like a pervert.

She let out a chuckle. "You do have your way with words, Gabriel. However, I won't yield" She stood up, brushing off the sand from her thighs. "I guess you are stuck here with me, feel free to explore this dump. If you are hungry, there's something I made" She pointed to a wooden table in the garden. As she bent over to pick up her blanket, you were blessed with the sight of her toned ass.

"So, I can't leave....?" you asked.

"Well, you might...but it's never sure" she replied. "Enjoy doing nothing everyday"

As she walked back up the hill, your mind was left in a state of disbelief and awe.

-

So, your days on the island of Ogygia begun. And just like Miyeon said, you did almost nothing. Well, it's hard to do anything else except nothing when you were stranded on an island with no electricity or internet. If you were Miyeon, you would have died of boredom long ago even if you were immortal.

Your daily routine consisted primarily of naps and more naps. Whenever you went to your room in the cave to sleep, you never saw Miyeon in her bed. Even when it's nighttime. When you woke up in the morning, she's already in the garden or sometimes at the loom, weaving different dresses of every color. You had to admit her handiwork was impressive but you wondered what's the point of making such dresses if there's no one to show it off to. Well, there's you but it's highly unlikely.

You didn't need to worry about food. They were always on the table in the garden when you needed them. Or you could pluck a fruit from the orchard. Miyeon didn't mind.

You had gone around the island in circles. Mostly, it's hills, trees and grasses. There's a small forest at the east end but you didn't explore it just in case something dangerous lurk there. You have never been much of a fan of dark, secluded places anyway.

That left you with only one option. The beach. You would either sunbathe or just walk around idly, picking up seashells sometimes (which you threw away back into the sand later). The ocean is not bad either. The water is always the right temperature, not too hot or cold. But even swimming, one of your hobbies, become another another gruesome task to get the day by when you did it every single day.

The only silver lining is the ocassional views you get of Miyeon. When she was either sunbathing or swimming, you would sit in a shade and watched her like a film. Maybe she didn't know or she just didn't care because she never gave you a single glance.

Once, the wind blew strong, lifting her skirt up just enough for you to see her cheeks and you praised the gods.

But that's it. You just get to watch. Until now, you had never realized how internet porn is one of the greatest inventions made by humans. Jerking off to your thoughts all the time isn't really doing the job.Thankfully, you have an active imagination. Sometimes, you imagined Miyeon, riding you, sucking you off.

That lead you to wonder, does Miyeon have those urges too? Probably, seeing how she was head over heels for that Odysseus dude. So maybe, she did find a way to relieve them.

You didn't know if someone who have been imprisoned since the dawn of time knew how to masturbuate. Maybe you could teach her. If she didn't turn you into guinea pig first.

You try ticking a mark on a tree nearby with a gardening knife for each day that pass but it got hard when you sometimes fell asleep on the sand under the morning sun and woke up to be greeted by the same warm rays, feeling like you had been out for at least a week.

All this time, Miyeon and you barely interacted. You tried to start conversations, asking her if she needs help in the garden or trying to get her to teach you weaving. But of course, she simply shaked her head, not bothering to waste a word on you.

Apart from being in the middle of nowhere, you thought being ignored by the only person accompanying you is bad enough. Until the events of one night changed it all.

- × - × - ×-

The wind whistled in your ears. The pressure of the air so strong you felt like you are gonna be crashed flat. Darkness ruled every corner of your vision. You were falling, deeper and deeper into the eternal abyss. The growls of beasts echoed from the depths.

You thought you would never stop falling, until something sharp speared your chest.

You woke up with a start. You were sweating like crazy despite the breeze blowing through the hatch in the ceiling. The first dream you had had since you were here. Or rather, the first nightmare.

Feeling thirsty, you looked around for water but had no luck. Usually, Miyeon left a jug on the bedisde table but there wasn't one that night. So you got out of the bed, wiping away the sweat on your forehead.

You found your way out of the room from the glow casted by the crystals. As usual, Miyeon wasn't in bed. You looked around. No water here either. As if to mock you, an unfinished shawl in the loom depicted the shapes of blue waves.

You walked out of the cave, maybe there was some on the garden table. The night was quiet other than the chirps of cicadas. The full moon shone brilliantly on the canvas of the night sky.

Was the moon always full here? You couldn't remember. The distant sound of waves crashing and falling pierced the night.

You headed towards the garden, which beauty never ceased to amaze you. Certain types of flowers bloomed and glowed silver and gold along the path that lead straight across the place. Trees that don't exist in the outer world cast shadows across the shorter plants. It would always be a mystery how Miyeon managed to took care of all of them without fail. You were near the vineyard when you heard a faint sound from the center of the garden.

Beneath the willow tree in the heart of the garden sat a humanoid figure. Your heart skipped a beat. The fear that the nightmare earlier gave birth to still clouded your mind. You never believed such absurdities like ghosts exist but if Ogygia is real, what else could be?

Taking careful steps, you slowly approached to the source of the sound. The moonlight casted a faint glow and the scene in front of you unfolded clearly.

The person beneath the willow tree was no other than Miyeon. But a different version you have never seen before. She sat there, laying against the trunk of the old tree. Her whole body bare. Her legs spread out so obscenely yet so ethereal. The depths of her pink cavern being sown by her middle and ring fingers. She lets out a moan as equally melodic as a sonata with each thrust of fingers into her pussy. Her tits rock hard and heaving with each breath. Those doe eyes of hers that were filled with elegance were now rolled back with pure lust. Her fingers that brought life to her loom now became nothing but a mere tool for her pleasure.

As if under a spell, your gaze was rooted to the scene before you, your heart racing faster with each passing second. If someone came and make you and offer to trade immortality for this moment, you would have rejected it.

Miyeon's body started to shake violently, her toes curling and uncurling. The dripping juice from her pussy start forming a puddle on the grass. Finally, her body jerked, spraying her sweet nectar all over the green plane. She panted softly, sweat trickling down her temple, her blonde hair a messy nest.

That was when you knew you were fucked. Even if you tried to turn now, you would be in her range of sight. If you tried to hide, she could sense you. So you just stood there like a statue, not daring to breath.

Miyeon's eyes slowly opened then focused on you. An expression of pure awe formed on her face which quickly turned into one of disgust and fury.

"You!" she yelled, her voice still hoarse from the moaning earlier. "How long have you been here?"

"Don't get me wrong! I was just trying to-"

"You fucking pervert" she yelled, trying to cover up her assets with her hands. Her brows furrowed and If looks could kill, you would have been dead a thousand times.

"It was an accident, ok? I'm not trying to peek on you. I was justrying to get some water"

"That's your excuse!?" she shriek, her tone no longer mellow. "I should have left you to die on the beach if I have known you are a creep"

"Look, Miyeon. I swear I wasn't trying to-"

"Oh, then what's that?" she pointed below your waist.

You looked down and notice the bulge. Your cock so hard it feels like it's gonna pierce your trousers. You shouldn't have but you blushed.

"Look, I can explain"

"You don't need to explain, get out of here. Leave my island!"

"Wait but how-"

"Leave me alone!" she yelled so loud you thought the ground is going to crack open.

"Fine fine" you replied in a rush and walked out of the garden as swift as you could.

However, the scene you witnessed was embedded in your memory for as long as you live. The way the moonlight showered on her skin, the pure baloney of the hidden side of Miyeon that you never knew exist. The way she reacted was totally opposite from her graceful and tranquil manner. She looked like she was about to kill you and you believed she could.

The silver lining? You knew she did masturbuate now, which meaned she has sexual urges just like anyone. This would have made you hopeful but after what happened, it didn't seem to matter. She hated you now. If you were to wake up as a guinea pig the next day, it wouldn't be a surprise.

With a heavy burden on your mind, you sighed and headed back to the cave.

- × - × - ×-

Your train of thoughts were cut off by a melody that graced your ears. Miyeon was singing. You had heard her sweet voice many times but it never failed to grip your heart. It was just the perfect balance of harmony and rhythm. Most of the times, you don't understand a word she is singing. But you can swear you heard her sang Love Story by Taylor Swift once. You have no clue how she even knew the song.

Miyeon continued her song while she picked flowers of various colors from the garden. A tulip here, a lily there. And another one you don't know the name of. Regardless, her movement were as poised as ever, which brought back the memory of that night.

Since the day of the incident, Miyeon have not uttered a single word to you. She still made you food and occasionally weaved new clothes for you but whenever your gazes met, she would either avert her eyes or scowled.

As the time went on, the silence became unbearable. Sure, she didn't speak to you much before. But it wasn't total silence. Now, you felt like she had ignored your existence which she probably did. It's true that you had been staring but it wasn't intentional (though it was a nice surprise). She was too consumed with rage to hear you out. At least she didn't burn you or turn you into an animal.

You thought of attempting to clear the air between you but you are worried it would push her away even further. You sometimes felt homesick, wanting to return back into the human world. But no one could help you with that, not even Miyeon. According to the myth, the gods had saved Odysseus from this island by sending Hermes, the messenger god, asking Calypso(or Miyeon, whatever) to free him. But Miyeon isn't obsessed with you like she was with Odysseus to even keep you captive. So, there isn't a need to free you. Maybe you can try building a raft and sail away. But staying here seems better instead of dying of hunger and thirst in the middle of the ocean. This island was made by the gods themselves and it can't be escaped in an ordinary way.

You are not so happy with the idea that this island made its inhabitants immortal. What's the join of being immortal if all you do is sleep, eat and swim everyday? You are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Miyeon's singing had stopped and now her gazes were back on yours. She scowled again but this time her eyes didn't waver. She beckon you with her hand to the cave. A jolt of excitement run through your body. Is she finally forgiving you? Or she's planning to kill you in the cave.

Nevertheless, you sat up and followed her across the hills, her shapely hips swaying with every step. You entered the cave after Miyeon and found her sitting on her bed. The expression in her eyes was unreadablele.

"Look" she spoke the first words in a long time. "Maybe I overreacted"

You wanted to say "Of course, you did" but you forgot about it. "Yeah, I'm sorry too" you apologized, though a part of you didn't want to.

"I was just...you know..." A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. "Trying to...eh..."

"I get it" you said. "That's a very normal thing, humans do it too"

"I know.." she said in a low tone. "But being seemed by someone else, it's embarrassing....and..." she paused and bit her lower lips.

"And?" you asked. You expected another word of resentment but what she said surprise you.

"Hot" she replied and looked down.

You can't believe your ears. She thinks being watched is hot? Her mask of innocence was starting to unravel slowly.

"Hot...?" you mused. "So you like me watching you?"

"In a way, yes" her fingers ran along the bedsheets. "You don't know how it feels to be alone for so long without anyone. Anyone who can satisfy my urges. I try to do it myself but I'm never satisfied. I need something else.....I need...."

'A cock' you thought. All these times, she had never been anything but a cockhungry slut. You shouldn't have been intimidated by her right from the start. Afterall, you are the only one who can give her what she needs.

"I know what you need" you said. "And I have it, don't I?"

Miyeon swallowed and nodded. You had never seen her so vulnerable it give you a sense of superiority. The tables have turned.

"Look, I'm desperate. I'm sorry for the way I acted. But I can't help thinking about your....cock. Since I saw that bulge, I have been in heat" As those filthy words left her mouth, her face turns so red it could have been a tomato. "So, you know, can you...?"

"Eh....I see..." you said with a hint of mockery. "I thought you think I'm a pervert"

"That was long ago!" she quickly retorted. She's that desperate, huh? "And I apologize for it, so if you can just give me...your cock..."

"It's not something that I can just give easily. I have my pride too, you know" That's bullshit. You were just as desperate as her. But you masked it better.

"Please, I will do anything" she begged again.

"Anything?" you started imagining scenarios.

"Yes"

"Like what?"

"I...I can suck you off..." she murmured quietly.

"What was that, Miyeon?"

"I will give you a blowjob" she said, much louder this time.

The corners of your mouth twitched into a wicked smile.

"Hmm, I don't know....is it really worth it?" you pushed her even farther.

"Please, I will make sure you are satisfied. You can cum wherever you want"

The idea of her perfect body covered in cum finally lead you to your decision.

"Alright but I will leave if you are not good"

"I promise!"

"Fine..."

"Please lay on the bed" she said, gesturing towards her bed.

You follow her orders, sinking into the feather bed. Miyeon slowly crawled up your legs until she reached your crotch area. She traced her fingers along your already bulging cock like it's something delicate.

"Finally..." she murmured dreamily as she slowly pulled down your pants and it sprung up to hit her in the nose.

"This smell..." she brushed her nose against the underside of your shaft. Then she pressed it to her cheeks, making her head look so much smaller. "So big..."

Finally, she started planting wet kisses along the side of your cock, sending a jolt to your spine each time. Those rosy lips of hers brushing against your unholiest place. After she pestered your shaft with kisses, she moved to the tip, where she trailed her tongue slowly across the sensitive slit then swirling her tongue.

"God, Miyeon, don't stop..." you tried not to sound desperate but it gets harder with each dance of her tongue.

She slowly started to take your tip into the warm embrace of her mouth, moving her head in a constant pace. Her fingers stroke from the base to her lips, then back again. The way her fingers move is just as masterful as the time she weaved, tracing every pulsing vein.

Her lips opened up to take more of your cock, half of it now being licked and gobbled in her warm cavern. Her pace increased, matching the rhythm of her fingers. The sound of spit squelching echo around the room. Each time your cock disappeared into her mouth, she would hum, sending vibrations across your shaft.

With each twirl and twist of her tongue, her pace increased even more. She had swallowed most of your cock now and her hands were on your thigh, holding on for support.

"Mmmphh" she mewled as your whole manhood disappeared into her mouth and her nose pressed right against your pelvis. She held you in her throat for a moment before she comes up for air, gagging and spilling spit. After a second of rest, she went down again, swallowing you like a vulture. Her blonde hair bobbed with each movement of her head. You realize her mouth does more than just sing. Her tongue is no less masterful as it traced along the underside and dance on your tip.

You fetl like your body is floating. The pleasure of her mouth made you yearn for it more and more. You didn't want this feeling of pure bliss to stop.

Her cheeks hollowed, sucking the life right out of you as her tongue greedily lapped up your precum. You were not a virgin and you had had your fair share of experience but the way her mouth worked is out of this world. (It literally is) She came up for air again, her chin dripping with her spit mixed with your precum.

"Ugh......so... juicy....." she panted s she looked at you with eyes full of ecstasy. And that look reminded you, you need her mouth back on your cock right now.

Without warning, you grabbed her hair and impale her mouth on your cock, stuffing her throat with your length. She struggled at first then calms down, as you hold her there, your fingers tangled in her locks. Her throat pulsed against your own pulsing cock, squeezing your tip.

"You don't stop unless I tell you to, ok?" you demanded.

She nodded furiously, feeling the lack of air as your cock blocks all her pathways of oxygen. You jerked her head up from her hair, look at her ruined face, then pressed it onto your cock again. You repeated the motion rapidly, using her like a fleshlight.

As he throat constricted around your mamba, you started feeling the familiar sensation of the finale approaching to this act. There's so many ways to fill Miyeon up or paint her. Then an idea came to your mind.

You stop thrusting Miyeon's mouth on your cock and let go of her hair. Her head tilted ninety degrees, gagging loudly then coughing.

"Miyeon. lay on the bed sideways but hang your head off the sides" you ordered as you get off the bed and Miyeon complied, shifting her position so that her head now hanged loosely from the side of the bed.

"Good slut" you praised as you take your position in front of her, gripping her throat and shoving your dick all the way in. Your balls slapped her nose and her eyes widened but then relaxed. You started thrusting your cock into her wet vulgar hole, admiring how her thraot bulged from the foreign object entering it.

Miyeon let you use her hole without complaint, lying there still as you get closer to nirvana with each thrust. You pulled your cock out all the way then back in with so much force, Miyeon's body jerked.

"Miyeon. I'm gonna..."

Your flood gates broke open. You shoot load after load of thick cum into Miyeon's throat, which she gulped down eagerly. But it must have been too much, because she started to cough, which is hard to do with a cock in her throat. She could drown in your cum, she asked for it. You kept thrusting until you finally came down from your euphoric high.

You pulled out your cock and the mixture of spit and cum flowed down from her mouth to every part of her angelic face. She murmurs in a ragged voice. "Thanks..."

"You are welcome" you said, admiring the beauitful mess, which is Miyeon. Her chest heaving and her mouth gaped open like a fish. Her face covered in spit.

She started to get up from her position, her hands pressed against the bed for support, but you had other ideas. As she was just getting off the bed, you pushed her head back down into the mattress, her lower body dangling from the side of the bed.

You pushed her head deeper into the mattress muffling her scream. With the other hand, you pulled up her white dress from the hem, exposing her round ass.

"Gosh, you are already so wet"

You saidbas you collected the juice within her folds with your middle finger and shoved it into her asshole, which clenched it down in a vice grip. You pull your finger free from her grasp then shoved it into her ass again.

As you finger her asshole, her pussy dripped even more, flowing steadily down to her bedsheet, staning it with her juice.

"Are you turning on from getting your ass fingered?" you asked. She replied in something that sounded like "Mmmf....umff".

"You must be desperate, huh? How long has it been since these holes are filled?"

You pull out your finger and slaped er ass, making her cheeks jiggle. You groped her ass some more, before you shove two fingers into her wet folds, extracting another inaudible sound from Miyeon.

You started pumping your fingers, gliding them in and out of her cavern. It clenchednon you tight like it's worried your fingers will stop thrusting. But she didn't need to worry because you were not going to leave the wet goodness of her hole anytime soon.

Miyeon let out more muffled moans and her body writhed like she was being tasered. But that's not so far from the truth because your fingers are sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through her.

With your free hand, you slapped her ass again, the way it wriggle almost hypnotic. The white backdrop of her skin marked with your handprints. You brought your palm down again and again, until her ass becomes nothing but a crimson plane.

"Look how much you are dripping. Do you like being spanked that much? No wonder Odysseus ignored you. You are such a whore"

Miyeon is no longer protesting, not even muffled sounds escaped her mouth anymore. She just lays there, face down ass up and let you toy with her body. The movement of your fingers became swifter, spraying juice each time they collide with Miyeon's depths.

Her pussy squelched happily each time your fingers enter, as if showing its gratitude. And it should. Miyeon had called you a pervert twice. Maybe she's right. But that pervert is the only one who can save her from her eternal damnation of the denial of pleasure. She should be thankful.Her legs started to quiver and you realized she was close. But you wouldn't be too hasty in giving her release.

You stopped, pulling out your fingers. You pulled up Miyeon's head and turned it a 180 degree, looking down at her eyes, far gone.

"Why..why do you..?"

Her protested are quickly cut out by your tongue which entered her mouth, swirling and tasting every inch of her another hole, which you just filled up with your cum a while ago. But you didn't care. Her lips feel velvety, just like all those fabrics she weaves. The tenderness of it got you asking for more. Miyeon returns the action by wrapping her own tongue around yours. It took two to tango after all.

Your other hand reached for her clothed boobs, pushing out from the textile of her dress. Miyeon's bosom is not one you can call big but they are not tiny either. It's just perfect enough for you to grope and pinch her nipples, already rock hard from the stimulation.

You pulled back, a trail of saliva glistening between her lips and yours. She looked at you with those needy eyes of hers, begging you to give her the release she desperately needs.

"Please...I....I need to cum..." she mummuredm She looked so pathetic you almost felt sorry. But after the treatment she had given you all those time, why should you be?

"Look at you, begging to me" you mocked. "Miyeon, you are nothing but a cockhungry whore, admit it"

Her face flared up. Then she tried to hide it and fails.

"I'm not a whore....I just need..."

"If you keep lying to yourself, you will never get the reward you seek from me"

"But I'm not a whore..."

You chuckled. "Aren't you the one who asked me for my cock? Beg me to taste it. Hell, you have been a whore since the beginning of time, falling for every man who ends up here"

Her expression turned confused, like she's debating with herself on your words. Finally, she spoke again.

"I.....I'm not falling for you. I don't even like you"

Oh, now she wanted to play it rough.

"Is that so? Then I guess you don't need me"

You turned to leave, which is all a trap to lure Miyeon to your dungeon of lust. And she fell right into it.

"Wait!" she called. "Don't leave"

You turn your head and raised an eyebrow. She was sitting on the bed now, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

"I....I will say what you want me to, so please don't leave"

"And what will you say?"

"I...I'm a....whore" Her voice reduced to a whisper at the last word. She looked own, her face burning with shame.

"I can't quite hear you from here"

"I'm a...whore" she said again, a bit louder than the last time. But you were not satisfied.

"Still can't hear you"

"I'm a whore!" she shrieked much to your surprise. "I need your cock so please use me"

You had done something that no one had ever achieved. You had ripped Miyeon of whatever remnanta she left of her pride, dginity and grace she had feigned all this time. Now she's no different from a typical whore who will let you use her for money. In Miyeon's case, she didn't need money. She needed your cock.

"That's more like it, no need to be shy" You walked up to her and hold her chin between your thumb and index fingers, admiring the angleic features of her face, from her aquiline nose to her sharp chin. A drop of cum from earlier still hanged on one of her eyebrows.

"Show me that ass" you ordered and she doesn't complain, getting on all fours and raising her ass for your eyes, her dress becoming nothing but an added luxury for you to feast on.

You got behind her and hiked up her dress to her waist, giving you full access to her ass. You dug a finger into her pussy, retractedband licked her juice off it. Maybe it's a nymph thing or you are just overwhelmed with desire but it's the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.

"Please, I need your cock inside me" Miyeon whined again, no longer hiding her desperation.

"Patience, slut" That came out so lame you promise yourself not to say that ever again.

You lined up the tip of your cock to her pussy, which was already convulsing with anticipation. In the beginning, you just pushed in your tip, testing the waters. Her pussy was wet enough you don't need to put any extra effort. You don't know if she is a virgin with the way her walls hugged you and gripped you like they are familiar with the alien object entering it but that's a question for another time. For now, you only have a single task to complete, filling her up.

"More..." Miyeon pleaded. That breathy voice of her with a hint of melancholy is what ignited the flame inside you.

With no further words, you pushed you whole length into her opening and she letbout a guttural moan. The way her walls swallowed your manhood leaves you struggling not to make a sound.

"Fuck, Miyeon, you are so tight..."

"Yes, fuck my tight pussy, I need your cock pounding me"

With each vulgar word that left her mouth, Miyeon push her hips back, trying to fuck herself on your cock. But you were going to be the one in charge. You held her tiny waist, stopping her from going further.

"I'm gonna fuck you, not the opposite, remember?"

"Yes..yes, sorry. I just need it...Hhng!"

Her apology was cut short when you start bucking your hips slowly, getting your cock accustomed to her wet cavern. Each thrust left you feeling breathless, the friction against her slick walls like no other feeling you have experienced. At this moment, you feel like you are the luckiest (and only) person on Ogygia.

Miyeon's moans grew louder with each pump of your cock, occassionally begging you for more. But she didn't need to because you are going to give her your all, satisfying the needs of her pussy that haven't been fucked properly for eternity.

So you picked up the tempo, waves rippling across her ass each time you thrusted into her. If her pussy was wet before, now it's a river, juice flying everywhere with each thrust you gave her. And she tool it like a champ. You think you eere going fast enough but she kept begging for more, to ruin her, to pound her into oblivion.

And who are you not to comply when you were held captive in the most heavenly place of the most beautiful woman(or nymph, whatever) you have ever seen. You channeledbevery single ounce of energy into pounding Miyeon's pussy and the effort started heating your body up, your hair slick with sweat.

Miyeon's not so different. Her dress is sticking to her skin with her own bodily fluid while she closed her eyes, drinking up the ecstasy only your cock could give her.

You wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her back against your chest, tracing your tongue across her ear while the rhythm of your cock remained unwavering. She tilted her neck to one side, beckoning you to taste her even more and you obliged, licking across her jaw up to her temple.

"Mhmm....yes, just like that....god, don't stop.."

You helpee her pull off her dress completely to have full access to her goddess like body. You cup your hands on her boobs, which are so soft they can melt from your touch. You squeezed and kneaded, adding a side dish of pleasure to the main course of your cock against her pussy.

You let a hand travel down between her legs and there you attacked her weak spot, rubbing her clit. Miyeon's eyes widened at your ambush and her body start to shake violently. You pinched her nipple and she lets out the most euphonius of squirms, which graced your ears like a melody. Miyeon was so overcome with pleasure, she no longer seem to be aware of her own actions. She bucked her hips back each time you pull back your cock, wanting to be filled up at every millisecond. Her milky white was now glistening from all the sweat dripping down from the heat of the moment.

The deadly combination of your fingers and cock finally let her to her orgasm. She moaned at the top of her lungs, juice spilling out of her holes like a dam breaking open. Through her high, you keep fucking her, bringing you closer and closer to your own climax.

"Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me"

Miyeon cries as your cock kept burying into her to the hilt and back even after she had cummed. Her body twitched and writhed with each thrust her now sensitive pussy took. You were not so far from following Miyeon, the clench of her walls driving you to the finish line until...

"God, yes, fill me up. Cum inside me. Fill your slut with cum"

Miyeon screams as you finally deposited your load into her cunt, sending shots after shots of thick white liquid into her. Your hips bucked wildy, filling her up with each movement. The bliss that you felt is phenomenal, out of this world. Arcs of pleasure coursed through your veins like electricity. You finally come to a halt, panting. You slapped her ass one last time and pull out.

"Oh, god....." Miyeon panted as she lays there on the bed like a broken doll, her face that of pure satisfaction. Her pussy leaked a steady stream of your cum down to her sheets, which were already filthy enough with her spit and juice. But that's what she wanted. She's a slut afterall.

"You are welcome" you said as your body suddenly grew tired from the intense session you went through. You sat down at the foot of the bed, closing your eyes, steadying your breathing. Your mind was still in a state of bliss, imagining what to do with Miyeon next after you recharged again. But for now, you needed rest and you were too tired to walk back to your own bedroom. So, you rested your back against the bed, dozing off.

- × - × - ×-

"Mister?" a female voice rings in your ears.

You open your eyes, an air hostess is looking at you like a pest, unwanted.

"What..what?" you mutter drowsily.

Her eyes glitter with amusement when you yawn.

"We have landed, we have been trying to wake you for fifteen minutes. We thought something happened to you. We have even called the medics"

"Fifteen minutes?" you looked around the empty aircraft, deprived of passengers.

"And you were mummuring some words like... Ogygia and Calypso?"

Your face flushed and look down at the book on your lap, half opened. "The Odyssey" said the cover. "Odysseus and the island of Ogygia" said the title of the chapter on the right page.

It was all a dream. A product of your arousal and obsession. It felt so real, however, you start thinking maybe you really have been to Ogygia and Miyeon have somehow returned you back here.

But that's a fantasy. Just like the photos of Miyeon that filled your gallery, your obsession. Despite the madness, you grin and the air hostess stares at you, her mouth gape open.

"Sorry" you apologize, stading up. Your phone chimes and you look down, only to be greeted by your wallpaper of Miyeon, your own version of Calypso.

This is going to be a long day.

-x-x-x-

(Wrote this a bit longer than I intended to. Thanks for reading as always~)

[43qh]

Words You Never Said (M)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: unprotected sex, quinn struggling with words, very soft

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: you were poise, quiet. something quinn admired about you. you had a gentle aura that made everyone in the room become soft the second you walked in.

docile.

if quinn could describe you in one word, it would be delicate. he saw you as a gentle sunshine that would shine through any situation. you were a peacemaker.

how could he have been so blind?

you smile with grace, making his stomach churn, "good morning, quinn."

quinn loved the soft rasp that came with your morning greetings. being the love of his life, he noticed things about you that you probably didn't know yourself. like the way you would blow on his hot coffee before handing it to him with a quiet smile. or the way you would check for eggshells before handing him his daily breakfast. or the way you always made sure to kiss his cheek before he dove right into the food made from love.

he admired how lovely you looked even when you would let out a small yawn from waking up so early to pamper him. he would always insist that you didn't have to do these things for him. and it would just end with a soft kiss to his lips as you said how much you love caring for him.

he should have said more how much he appreciated the small details of your mornings.

dialogue was typically short between the two of you. it wasn't a boisterous relationship, but nor was it really boring. it was more established than anything. and it gave him peace of mind.

when he'd come home from practice, you would calmly run him a bath for him to relax. you would always have a different candle lit, the water a perfect temperature. he really knew he was the luckiest person in the world.

why didn't he say it sooner?

you sighed, your eyes staring into the dark coffee staring back at you. it was just like every other day. few words spoken, gentle gestures you weren't sure he noticed. you felt more like a roommate than anything else, and you weren't sure what to make of it. you still slept next to him, kissed him, loved him. but lines weren't ever quite crossed in the relationship. it wasn't boring, you knew quinn liked the quiet life. and it didn't bother you.

but you just wondered why he never said anything about the things you did for him. there would be the occasional thank you before rushing out the door for a game, but it was fast and out of courtesy, not out of love.

quinn didn't think of it that way, and you had never mentioned the way you felt.

quinn knew you were sensitive, but wasn't sure how to address things around you.

when you slowly stopped doing the little things that made his stomach flip, he began to become worried.

"sunshine?" the nickname rolls off his tongue fluidly, and it catches you off guard. it's been too long since you've heard it, making your heart race.

"yes?" you look away from the dishes, turning face to face to your boyfriend of two years. his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes scanning you. you licked your lips, adverting your gaze under his intense one.

"i'm sorry," he declares. he doesn't let you ask questions before he continues, "i should have said more. i should have told you how much i enjoy our breakfast routine. i should have said how much your smile means to me. i should have told you that coming home to you, is the best part of my day, even when i lose a game. i should have called you for longer when i was gone on the road. i should have-"

you kiss him.

and he's shocked, but he quickly returns the kiss with a gentle feeling. and it was like living on cloud nine when you kissed him. his arms circling around you perfectly like you were fit to live in his arms forever. and he could taste the sunshine on your lips, the softness he adored so much.

"thank you," you said breathlessly, staring at him with glossy eyes. "i wasn't sure you noticed."

"of course i did," he tugs at the hem of your white shirt with nervous hands, "they were just words i never said. words i should have said."

you reach to run your hands through his hair, locks tangling between your fingers as you stare at him with love. he could fall straight to his knees with that look; he's sure anyone would. it was like staring into the place you know will always look like home, even from afar.

quinn quickly captures you in for another kiss, this one a bit more rushed. he was nervous. he had never really kissed you with such fervor before, but from the small whimper you let out between breaths, he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. it was bliss.

your hands were searching for places to ground yourself on him, while his easily rested on your hips. he loved your reaction when you lifted your shirt up so he could feel your bare skin. the goosebumps rose across your delicate skin, breaking away from the kiss to catch your breath. he was quick to trail his kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbone. you clutch onto his own shirt, your legs wanting to give out already.

quinn hums, "i should show you how much i appreciate you."

you stare with lidded eyes, still innocent and driving him up the wall. you didn't need to say anything, the soft tug at his shirt was enough for him to lift you on the kitchen counter. you've never had sex outside the bedroom before, and your body heated up at the thought of getting fucked on the counter.

quinn tilts his head with a little smirk gracing his lovely features, "i can feel your body warming up under my hands."

you felt a pit in your stomach, "t-this isn't the bedroom."

quinn laughed lowly, "i know, sweetheart. but i just can't wait to show you how much i appreciate my pretty girl."

pretty girl. his pretty girl.

you gasp as he reaches for the hem of your shirt, raising it up and tossing it aside on the floor. he curses under his breath at the sight of your bare breasts, nipples hard and begging to be touched. he doesn't waste time, wrapping his mouth around one while he gropes the other. your gasp and moans ringing in his ears. it was a heavenly sound that he could listen to forever.

when you tugged ever-so-lightly on his hair, he groans at the feeling. you were so soft. so gentle. it drove him crazy. only he could break you apart like this. only him.

he pulls back, looking at your disheveled look, "so fucking pretty. so gorgeous." he kisses you, filling you with need.

you scoot closer to him, pressing your chest against him and feeling the prominent bulge he displays now. you whine into the kiss, and he chuckles, breaking apart from you again while look at him with puppy eyes.

"gonna give you what you want, yeah?"

you nod eagerly, looking down as he takes off your tiny shorts and panties, following suit with his own clothes. you admire him, all while he admires you. he could say how lucky he is to have you like a gospel. like it was the only thing he ever wanted to brag about for the rest of his life.

"quinn," your voice interrupts his thoughts, feeling your legs trying to pull him closer to you, "please?"

he shakes his head, chuckling like he was out of breath, "sorry, you're just so breathtaking. can't wait to ravish you."

before you could say anything, he was already rubbing his tip along your clit, spreading your arousal all over his cock, groaning in the process. he wondered what made you so wet so quickly, but he didn't find the need to ask.

"need you inside me, please." you lean your head on his shoulder, and he could feel the heat conspiring off you.

he nods swiftly before finally giving into temptations and sliding right into your slick, tight heat. his own head falls onto your shoulder, groaning loudly at the feeling of your pussy squeezing so tightly around him.

"shit, feels so good." he praises, making your walls sputter, causing him to move.

the moans and whimpers that follow after could have sent him to heaven, he swears. your delicate hands clutching onto him for dear life, like he hasn't fucked you a thousand times already. it was such a blissful feeling. filling you up and pumping into you with a certain need he had never felt before.

"so tight, so warm," he gasps breathlessly, listening to the way your whines hitch, "could fuck you forever, baby."

"wouldn't complain," you quickly reply. he smiles to himself, pressing kisses along your shoulder and lightly biting to tease you. his cock was so deep, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust of his hips. you felt needy, desperate even. you could feel every vein, every throb, every thrust. it was almost lethal how good it felt.

he picked up his pace, his hips growing sloppy and hitting that spongy spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. "gonna cum, baby? i can see it all over your face. feel your pussy clenching my cock."

your noises were foreign to your own ears, your nails digging into his flesh the faster he fucks into you. he never wants this to end, truly. it felt almost too much for him to watch you unravel on his cock, but he couldn't complain. not when you looked so good taking him.

"want you to cum all over me. my good girl deserves it."

you're pushed over the edge with his words, saying his name like a mantra and a prayer. he can't help his own release with the way your core grasps him, sucking him in. he paints your walls white, feeling both of your cum start to drip onto the counter as you catch your breath. his cock pumps you full, you swear your womb couldn't take any more.

he kisses along your cheek, meeting your lips in a sloppy, sweet kiss that makes you forget about cleaning the counter.

quinn wasn't much for words, but he would be for you.

[crookedteethed]

18+ - mdni

ᥫ᭡. kook! jj, who can't keep his dick to himself.

warning: toxic!jj, cheating, public sex (fingering), language

You sighed, watching JJ flirt shamelessly with yet another woman at the Country Club bar. His pearly whites flashed as he leaned in close, whispering something that made her giggle. You rolled your eyes, sipping your martini.

A familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, but you pushed it aside. This was nothing new. JJ had always been a player, even back when you first met him. You'd known exactly what you were getting into.

Still, you couldn't help but wonder why you stayed.

Maybe it was the way his khakis and Polo hugged his athletic frame, or how his cologne lingered tantalizingly whenever he brushed past. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being with someone so desired, knowing you were the one he came home to at the end of the night.

As if sensing your gaze, JJ glanced over and winked. Damn him and that roguish grin. Your anger melted away as he excused himself and sauntered back, sliding onto the barstool beside you.

With a sinister smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "Did you miss me, gorgeous?" His hand slid up your thigh with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your anger, JJ's touch ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

Your mind raced as he brushed the hem of your skirt, reminding you of all the times he had bought you gifts to win you over. But this time, his touch felt like a threat, like a possessive mark left on your body.

"This a cute piece," he taunted, pulling at the fabric possessively,

"Did I buy you this cute little number?"You could feel yourself weakening under his manipulative hold and hated yourself for still wanting him despite everything he had done.

You tried to push away the memories, but they flooded back as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"I can tell your side piece over there can't get enough of you," you growled, nodding towards the girl JJ had been cozying up to, who was now frantically scanning the room for him.

"She ain't missing me, she's just craving my dick. I've already had her once--" he says casually, as if it means nothing.

"When?" you interrupt, your jealousy fueling your words. But deep down, you already know the answer and it makes your stomach churn with disgust.

"I don't know." Jay shrugs. " A week or so ago? Two weeks ago, maybe." He casually said, as if it means nothing.

Your blood boils and you feel sick to your stomach.

"You're such a pig," you spit out, unable to contain your disgust any longer. With a heavy heart, you stand up and walk away, unable to bear being near JJ any longer. But of course, he follows behind you, trying to make excuses or apologies that fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Jay's voice echoes after you, his footsteps pounding against the linoleum floors as he rushes to catch up. "I was just being honest."

You spin around, seething with rage as you lock eyes with him. "Honest? You're supposed to be loyal to me, Jackson, but instead you're out here screwing other women behind my back?" Every word drips with venom as you advance towards him, ready to unleash your pent-up fury.

"Sweetheart, come on." JJ tries to smooth things over in his suave manner, glancing around the deserted hallway before pulling you closer by your hips. "You know I love you, right? You're my everything."

JJ's face may have been a replica of his mother's flawless beauty, but his father's manipulative nature runs through his veins like a toxic poison.

The mere thought of Groff's influence on him ignites a fierce rage within you, intensifying as you feel JJ's hand creeping up your skirt once again--this time his fingers exploring the delicate lace of your panties. You can sense his intent, and it sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to contain the boiling fury inside you.

"You know I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, baby." His words do little to calm the storm brewing inside you as he looks at you with those soft, doe-like eyes--damn him--just as his palm cups your throbbing sex.

A moan escapes your lips as his cool Signant Ring presses against your engorged clit.

"Jay, we can't do this here," you hiss, turning your head to scan for any onlookers.

"Who says we can't?" He counters, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Your senses are heightened as your eyes dart around, searching for prying eyes or gossiping villagers. The thought of being caught only intensifies the thrill coursing through your veins.

"Jay, please," you mewl, feigning resistance, though your hips betray you by arching closer to his touch. His lips curve into a smirk, knowing how deeply his ministrations affect you. He uses this knowledge ruthlessly as he presses down on your sweet spot with just enough pressure to have your toes curling in your heels.

"No one's looking," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and velvety, just as his fingers slipped beneath the silk of your panties. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.

As JayJay's skilled fingers continued their exploration, your mind clouded over with desire. The combination the warmth of the room, and the knowledge that you could be discovered at any moment only served to heighten your arousal. You gripped the wall, desperate for support as sensation after sensation washed over you.

Suddenly, he slipped a single finger inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan louder this time, Smitten by lust, you didn't care. All that mattered was the delicious friction between your legs, the expert way his fingers moved in and out of you, plundering your depths with practiced ease.

As JayJay added a second finger, stretching you open even further, every ounce of resentment and jealousy you harbored vanished into thin air.

The smooth, probing digits hitting all the right spots within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body. All that mattered in that moment was the exquisite sensations building up inside of you, demanding release.

That bitch at the bar, JJ's insufferable bragging about their sexual conquests—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to come on JayJay's fingers, right there in the dimly lit corridors, far away from prying eyes but close enough to tease with the risk of getting caught.

The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the wet sounds of arousal escaping as Jay fingers pumped faster into your cunt, his blue eyes never leaving your face.

JJ could feel the tight grip of your pulsing pussy around his fingers, a clear indication that you were on the brink of ecstasy. He knows that if he can make you gush and lose control, you will forget about everything else - him, the girl at the bar, and any other thoughts that may have been occupying your mind.

JayJay added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, his thumb circling your clit as he began a relentless assault on your most sensitive spots. The wall behind you felt like the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses swam with lust and need. His gaze bored into yours, his smirk widening as he witnessed the effect he had on you. You were open and vulnerable in more ways than one.

The corridor spun dizzyingly around you, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building up inside you, coiled tighter and tighter as JayJay continued his expert ministrations. Your moans became louder, more desperate, and you didn't care who heard or saw anymore. All that mattered was reaching the peak that was so close yet so far away.

"That's it, baby," he cooed. "Let it all out f'me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. JayJay's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.

"J-JayJay," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close…"

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart."

That was all it took. With a cry that echoed through the corridor, you came undone around his fingers. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as JayJay worked you through your orgasm. He held you steady, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright as you rode out the high.

Jay’s lips curled into that devilish smirk—a signature of his, one that both thrilled and infuriated you. His fingers, slick with evidence of your surrender, brushed against your thigh as he slowly retreated, deliberately leaving a trail of heat in their absence. His blue eyes bored into yours, darkened with triumph and something more primal, something that left your knees trembling.

And just like that, JJ had you again in his magnet tar pit trap.

As JJ removed his fingers from your panties and brought them to your lips, coating your mouth in your own juices, savoring the sweet, musky taste of arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a challenge dancing in their depths.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice low and commanding. Your cheeks flushed red, but the arousal coursing through your veins overpowered any last shreds of modesty.

Slowly, you parted your lips and closed them around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your essence. Your heart pounded in your chest as your tongue swirled around his digits, a sultry dance of your submission and desire.

JJ had treated you like shit, you knew, your friends knew, even JJ himself knew, yet you couldn't help the craving that swelled within you for him—a craving to be claimed, to be marked, to be his in every way that mattered.

as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Blood, Not Family

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: set during 3x12, the boys get arrested and you’re left to fend for yourself with your abusive maternal family

Warnings: abusive family (no actual abuse shown), angst with a happy ending, the episode depiction isn’t exact because I don’t have it memorized

Everything was going wrong.

You and your brothers had been taken in by Agent Henrickson and the rest of the FBI, and you hadn’t seen Sam or Dean for hours. You were in an interrogation room, your brothers probably locked away in a holding cell, and there was nothing to do but wait. That is, until Henrickson himself came to talk to you.

“You’re not being charged with anything,” he informed you begrudgingly. “But I still have a few questions for you.”

You remained silent, unwilling to be cooperative.

“Your brothers—I’ve looked into it, and it seems like you were with your mother and half brother for several years before they kidnapped you.”

“They didn’t kidnap me,” you snapped, your desire to remain silent overrun by your need to defend your brothers.

“They have no legal right to you,” Henrickson countered.

“Just because they didn’t go through the stupid legal channels doesn’t mean that they had to kidnap me. Maybe that’s what it means to cops and fancy lawyers, but not to me—they saved me, they didn’t kidnap me.”

“Saved you?” Henrickson considered your words for a moment before moving on. “And dragging you around everywhere? You’re a kid, still in school, you must not have wanted to go. They forced you, didn’t they? Huh? Roughed you around when you didn’t want to go.”

“No!” You insisted. “Not Sam and Dean. They’ve never hurt me, they’d never do that.”

“We’re talking about murderers here,” Henrickson argued. “A few hits or punches to their little sister doesn’t seem out of character.”

“They. Are not. Killers. And they’d never hurt me,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” Henrickson sighed, convinced that he wouldn’t get anything else from you. “Well, your family will be here any minute to pick you up. Your brothers are going away, well…forever.”

“Wait.” Your head shot up, all the breath leaving your body at once. “Wait, wait, you can’t—“

Henrickson was gone before you could even protest.

…

“Oh, sweetheart!” The sound was so sweet it made your stomach churn. A face that you’d hoped beyond hope that you’d never see again was suddenly right there, opening the door and smirking at you for all the world to see as she marched towards you, arms outstretched.

“Don’t call me that!” You growled, backing away and cringing as the nickname that Dean so often called you was uttered by this horrible, horrible woman.

“They’re here to pick you up.” Henrickson entered behind your mother, and it took him only a moment to sense the tension in the room. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not going home with her, I’m not! You can’t make me go with her!” You cried, turning your pleading towards Henrickson.

“Oh, listen to the poor thing, she’s still in shock,” your mother cooed. “Those horrible boys must’ve hurt her terribly to scare her so.”

“They didn’t do anything to me!” You insisted. “You did! They saved me!”

“Saved you? Oh poor poor girl, she’s got Stockholm syndrome.” Your mother tried again to reach out for you, but this time it was Henrickson who stepped in.

“I…I think you should wait in the lobby,” Henrickson said, stepping between you and your mother. “I have just a few more questions for her.”

“Well…well alright then,” your mother said hesitantly. “But please hurry. We’ve been waiting to get her back for so long.”

“Of course.” Henrickson ushered her out the door before turning to you.

“You can’t make me go with her, you just can’t!” You wouldn’t—couldn’t—calm down until you were sure that Henrickson would get rid of your mother.

“Ok, just calm down,” Henrickson sighed. “She…she hurt you, didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question, not really.

“Please don’t make me go back there,” you begged.

“I…I can try to stall so that I can think of what to do. She has legal custody, so it’s going to be hard, but I’ll try,” Henrickson said finally. “For now, come with me.”

You held your breath as Henrickson led you out of the room, unsure where he was taking you as he led you down the hall. Your breath came easy when he led you through one last door, and behind it lay a row of cells, your big brothers in the farthest one.

The boys’ faces lit up when they saw you, safe and sound. Henrickson unlocked their cell and let you in before turning and walking out the door to confront your mother.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting as he pulled you into a hug was much more welcome than your mother’s had been. “You ok?”

“She’s here,” you whimpered. “He brought her here to take me, Dean.”

“What?” Dean’s arms tightened around you as he looked over your shoulder at Sam. You’d told them all about your mother and step brother, and he knew who you were talking about without you having to say her name.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Sam promised. “We…we’re gonna figure something out, ok?”

“He said you’re going to jail.” You pulled away from Dean and looked up at him. “He said you both are going away forever.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Dean promised, avoiding your comment about jail.

“You…you are going to jail,” you said, reading between the lines. You knew your brother well enough to know exactly what wasn’t saying. “No, no! I can’t let that happen!”

“None of us have a choice,” Sam cut in. “We just have to make sure that you don’t end up with your mom.”

“I’m not the only one that matters here!” You argued.

“You are to me,” Dean deadpanned. “There’s…” Dean swallowed, and you knew he was trying to keep up his tough exterior. “There’s not much hope for Sammy and me, kid. But I’m not gonna let that douche take you, I’m just not.”

“But—“

The flickering lights interrupted your protests. You looked up at them before turning to your brothers.

“That can’t be good.”

…

“Alright,” Sam said. “The plan is ready.”

Those flickering lights had turned out to be demons, and with a lot of convincing, the boys had gotten Henrickson on their side for the fight.

“This is ridiculous.” You cringed at the sound of your mother’s voice, finding yourself leaning closer to Sam almost subconsciously. “Demons? This is crazy! Those kidnappers should be locked up, and I should be leaving with my daughter!”

“Hey, if you wanna leave, you’re welcome to!” Dean thundered. “You wouldn’t make it ten feet before getting taken out by those demons, and that’s fine by me! But Y/N stays here. You haven’t earned the right to call yourself her family.”

“I’m her mother! And who are you? You’re barely even related to her!” Your mother argued.

“Blood isn’t the only thing that matters,” Sam growled. “And even if it did, she’s our sister—John is our father, too.”

“One absent father between the three of you can hardly compete with me, her mother,” she argued. “Besides, she has a big brother; one who isn’t a criminal.”

Your hand found Sam’s sleeve, and you gripped it tightly for comfort as your mother’s son—your step brother—smirked and stepped up next to your mother.

“He’s not my big brother!” You insisted. “He’s just your douchebag son that you let treat me like a punching bag!” You felt Sam’s hand find yours before he squeezed it, trying to help you calm down.

“Oh, so imaginative,” your mother huffed, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know where you get such ideas, your big brother hardly hurt you.”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “You don’t get to talk to her, and you don’t get to call her a liar. You—“

“Dean.” Agent Henrickson interrupted. “Sam—it’s time, it’s now or never.”

“Well then it’s never,” your mother sniffed. “I don’t know what kind of trick these boys are pulling—“

“Those dead agents of mine aren’t a trick!” Henrickson roared. “Now I need you to stay out of the way and shut up so I can do my job!”

Your mother looked like she wanted to fight, but Dean set the plan in motion before she got the chance.

…

“It’s over,” you breathed. “We did it!” You launched yourself into Dean’s arms, and he chuckled as he ruffled your hair.

“We sure did, kid.” Dean pulled away from you as he faced Agent Henrickson. “So…”

“So Sam and Dean Winchester died in a helicopter explosion, along with two of my agents,” Henrickson interrupted. “Rest in peace, boys. And I better never see you again.”

You grinned widely as Sam and Dean both nodded appreciatively.

“Yes sir,” they said in near unison.

“Wait,” your mother spoke up. “What does this mean for me? They-they can’t take my daughter!”

“I’d like to see you stop us,” Dean scoffed, wrapping an arm around you protectively as he led you towards the door.

“Agent Henrickson!” Your mother squealed. “Stop them!”

“Stop who?” Henrickson asked innocently. “Sam and Dean Winchester are dead; it seems to me that your daughter is choosing to walk away from you on her own.”

“Yeah, right,” your step brother scoffed, stepping up to block your way.

Sam stepped in front of him, his frame towering over that of your step brother’s, and his chest heaving with angry breaths.

“You really want to do this, punk?” Sam challenged. “Not so hard when it isn’t a kid half your size, is it?”

Your step brother gritted his teeth as he stepped out of Sam’s way.

You turned for one last glance at your mother and step brother before Dean could lead you out the door.

“You may be related to me, but you were never my family,” you said. “And you will never see my face again.”

And with your brothers’ hands grasped in yours, you turned away from your relatives, and left with your family.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

[chastiefoul]

regret pt. 2 | alhaitham

a/n: soooooooooo, this was a bit overdue.. hahaha... i apologize for the delay but it's here now!! short disclaimer though, if you expect a make up and lovey dovey scene on this one it's not happening sadly. this end up being more of a character study of the scribe somehow? like i was really going in there with his pov, but of course this esentially is the continuation of the part one so i hope you all enjoyed and sorry for being so late!!!! (more of a/n at the end!)

3k words!!! (wasn't kidding when i said i really went in there)

summary:

alhaitham's own emotion and how he dealt with it proved to be an obstacle for himself. how deep does his regret truly runs?

read part one here!

-

 alhaitham didn’t know before that the world could be this... quiet.

no, it’s more accurate to say that he couldn’t appreciate silence as he used to. there are pieces of you remaining across his day. at his office, on his way to lunch, the tavern, and even when he closed his eyes, persistently, you’re there. however those weren’t real, not anymore, since he himself was the one who had driven you away rather horribly.

and he shouldn’t regret it, he really shouldn’t. but he did.

he let out a sigh yet again, resting his eyes as he leaned back on his chair.

alhaitham hated vexatious things, especially stuff that had nothing to do with him. you, used to fell into this category. someone he shouldn’t bother with or care about, but you kept slithering in breaking what he thought was a solid wall. and uncharacteristically, he kept letting you. perhaps at a life-threatening moment where he had to tell the truth to live, he could consider admitting that he did not hate the way you smiled while you greeted him, or the way your eyebrow crinkled slightly with worry when you saw the piled up paper he had to tend on certain days. and even your lovable little pout when he told you he had skipped his meals. and it’s only now he realized that his useless pride wasn’t something worth holding onto if in exchange he would be missing all of these.

these bothersome yet endearing memories that refused to get out of his head. that he refused to forget.

and to think your last memory of him was him being so heartless—wait, come to think of it. was he ever nice towards you? was there ever a time where he didn’t treat you so cold?

alhaitham was stunned when he couldn’t find a positive response to both question. he felt like his heart was being clenched tightly. he had no choice but to go back to work, forced to stop his train of thoughts before he was overwhelmed.

it all had become so troublesome. too troublesome.

❀

alhaitham also had no idea how small the chance was of running into you, even though you both work at the same place. it’s news to him that if you hadn’t come to him all the time, you wouldn’t even be meeting at all.

the regret he felt just keep piling up.

now alhaitham found himself out from his office more often; in the library, or just walking around randon hallways to take a breather, these were all solely for the purpose that perhaps he would run into you. even just a glance for the briefest second, he thought he would be happy with just that. however it proved to be difficult since he hasn’t seen even a single strand of your hair for the past week.

and that’s when it happened, he saw a familiar figure walking towards him, it was like a slow-motion, something that he had been waiting to  happen. alhaitham’s inside was all thundering, he knew he’s been missing you, but he didn’t know it was this bad.

but all of that nerves and excitement died down as quick as it came, as you walked past him without sparing even a single glance. turns out you were just rushing to get to the hall behind him. the silver-haired man could only stand there, witnessing your back until it disappeared at the very last second at a turn. his stomach churned in the worst way possible.

that nonchalant, ignorance, reminded him of nothing but himself. he now realized that he’s way past a stage where a single apology would fix everything he’s done.

❀

alhaitham went home with a heavy feeling inside of his chest. it’s been that way for too many days now.

he thought pushing you out of his life was the hill he was going to die on, but he played himself. he grew accustomed to a world with you now he thought going back to his old routine was something he wanted. turns out far from it.

he needed you.

he arrived, and as alhaitham opened the door, he never expected the sudden hit on his right jaw, making him staggered as his back touched the door. “you deserved that one, and i think you know that,” kaveh said. alhaitham couldn’t even react; ah, (y/n) has told him all about it, then.

alhaitham who had no energy left from the lack of sleep and meals held his jaw carefully, sliding down the wall and sat on the floor. he wasn’t in any way hurt badly, since obviously he had a stronger physique than the blond, but the other part inside of his chest ached. as kaveh said, he deserved that one. although it’s a bit infuriating that the architect was the one who did that, alhaitham also knew that you’d never be able to do that to him. not that your strength was the problem, it’s just that you’re so very kind, even to people that don’t deserve it.

then if what it took to see you smile at him again was a punch to the face, he’d put his as a target gladly.

alhaitham was in a daze, couldn’t even bring himself to retort the harsh welcome, he’s just quiet. which was very unusual.

“what should i do?” he finally mumbled. “what?” kaveh widened his eyes at the response. “what can i do.. to fix this?” that was very surprising coming from the prideful man, kaveh had doubts that the man in front of him was really his room mate. but kaveh only sighed, and lent out his hand. “get up, let’s talk.”

after the scribe finished putting an ointment to the bruise, they both sat on the dining table. there was no noise for a while, until alhaitham decided to break that. “how is (y/n)?” he treaded carefully. “good actually, now that they’re free from a weight that’s dragging them down.” kaveh spat, the grey-haired man made a blank look. “-is what i liked to say. however they’re not doing very well.” his expression turned into something of a deep concern for a friend. “how so?” alhaitham’s voice too, spiked with worries. something that kaveh wasn’t really familiar with that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “you’re really a funny guy. now you’re worried? after treating them like that?” kaveh said, astonished by the audacity of his roommate.

“i’m aware that all of this is my fault.” alhaitham clenched his fist tightly, he didn’t need anyone to remind him that he was at fault, he never allowed himself to forget that. “i mean, how could you alhaitham?!” just thinking about it made kaveh blood boiled once more. you who had treated everyone so kind, especially alhaitham since he knew you had feelings for the scribe, and for him to trample on all of that, it was all just too much, too miserable. kaveh wasn’t stopping there. “to think they were just offering assistance too. if you don’t want help, then say no, don’t lash out like a goddamn child!”  the blond was beyond worked up, you were such an important friend to him. “we know dealing with emotions isn’t your forte, but that was low, alhaitham. even for you.” kaveh finally finished his piece. sometimes the architect wondered with how alhaitham talked and how blunt he was, a hit to the face should’ve been something he’s used to getting—or at least the attempt to, since we all knew he wasn’t a weak guy.

alhaitham could only agree, it was all true what kaveh has said. “i know! i know i messed up really badly, that’s why allow me to be shameless and ask for your help. i really regret it,” the sword-wielder meekly said. kaveh relented slightly at the sincere words he spouted once in a blue moon. he relaxed back into the chair, realizing that he needed his head to be in the right place to get through this conversation. silence loomed over them once more.

“why were you so worked up everytime you talked to them anyway?” kaveh asked, his tone solemn. alhaitham seemed to be pondering for a moment, “i... don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyebrow twitched slighly in frustration, once again he was forced to remember how much of a jerk he was to you sometimes. kaveh too, wails with frustration at the response.

he’s hopeless, utterly hopeless!

however the scholar did not stop there, “i was always alone as you know, and i was fine with that. but ever since (y/n) came into my life, i realized that i started to look forward on days i would meet them, i started to find their company very comfortable and that unsettled me.” he finally got to say the truth out loud. “and that fear what was made me so adamant to reject it. i hated the idea that single person could turn my whole life upside down easily like that.”

alhaitham thought he was protecting himself, turns out that that did nothing except hurting you in the process. before lashing out on you, he’s been keen on perusing books he normally avoid, he’d spend his time reading what he thought was unusual titles, in hope that one of them could teach him about the overwhelming sensation he’s been experiencing ever since meeting you. yet none of them succeed. he was having a hard time understanding things that didn’t have reasoning behind it, that didn’t have clear method or formula that provides a precise and accurate solution. he realized he was at a place he wasn’t familiar with, a place where the line of logic is blurred.

how the hell was he supposed to understand it?

“alhaitham, just answer me this. do you like (y/n)?” kaveh asked. alhaitham was stunned for a moment, but surprisingly the answer came easy, but he did not want the blond the hear it for the first time. he wanted you to hear it, no, he needed you to hear it. that he liked you, so so much that literally, literally, he did not know what to do with himself. and that’s when a gear turned on the back of his mind. you needed to hear it. and alhaitham was going to make sure you hear it.

❀

just your luck. it’s just your luck out of all the signature of the people in akademiya, the higher-up told you that you needed alhaitham’s for your project.

just. your. luck.

you knocked on his office, that terrible day flashes on your mind for a second, but you quickly pushed that thought. it’s all gonna be okay, you’re here for pure business, exactly like the way he liked it.

“come in,” a voice replied at the knock. you took a deep breath and went in.

you could see alhaitham’s face was startled for a moment; a brief slip up for the usually emotionless man. but you couldn’t careless, as you set the document on his desk rather urgently. “i need your signature, no need to read through the document as it’s already pre-approved and just needed your agreement for it to proceed.”

alhaitham was quiet as he stalled, wishing to stare at you for that few additional seconds. you had bags under your eye—alhaitham almost reached his hand out to touch over them but he stopped himself. he should know his place.

as soon as the pen left the paper, you snatched it from his desk, and went to make your way out from the hellhole. alhaitham’s shoulder slumped, he knew you’re still mad at him, but to think you’re that bothered just to be in the same room as him. how was he supposed to get you to talk to him?

❀

“good morning, (y/n),”

that’s when it happened. alhaitham on your office with a cup of coffee on his hand first thing in the morning. your jaw dropped slightly, you couldn’t believe your eyes. he put the coffee on your desk. he didn’t react strongly at the lack of response as he didn’t expect you to welcome him. "what are you doing?” you asked, your tone was cold.

“just.. visiting you and thought that maybe you’d like coffee,” he said, even he wasn’t certain of his own words. wasn’t this the same man who had tear you apart just a week ago just because you cared for him? now he wanted to talk you pretending all of that crap didn’t happen?

you laughed loudly, yet it sounded sad. “you must think i’m a joke, alhaitham,” you stated, throwing away the coffee in front of you to the trash bin next to you. the scholar in front of you now looked a little timid, it’s almost pitiful. “no- of course not!” he frantically retorted, “then i’ll ask once again, what are you doing here?” you crossed your arm.

“i wanted to apologize for my actions,” he firmly said, his expression sincere.

oh, is this what’s it all about? it’s regret. something you don’t need, what you need is for him to realize that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. nothing.

he looked restless as he await for your response, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “why are you so nervous about, it’s not like you’re saying sorry to someone close to you or anything like that. anyways, apology accepted. anything else?”

at the stinging words his heart sunk, though his eyes widened at your response, “really?” that easy?

“yeah, now don’t come to this playground anymore, unless it’s strictly for business. good day,” you said, sitting back down getting back to your work. this is all new to alhaitham; feeling of wanting to jump out of the window. your harsh words, how easy it was for you to ignore you in a blink of an eye. and to think he did the same thing to you. no no, he did worse.

the difference is that your actions were justified, considering how much of an asshole he’s been to you. but him on the other hand, treated you just because he was a coward, not having the courage to face his own emotions.

alhaitham never thought he’d be envious of that specific trait of yours but right there as he stood in front of you, he wished that he understood all emotions in this world.

“please, please give me a chance to-“

“alhaitham, for someone as intelligent as you, there’s no way you didn’t understand what ‘strictly for business’ means, right?” you shot him down swiftly.

“just once. please. i won’t ask for anything anymore.” his voice was quiet, laced with utter desperation, that your conscience couldn’t help but respond to it. you were mad, but let’s not stoop to his level. you out of all people, was familiar with pain of being ignored by someone who you wanted to talk the most.

“you have one minute.” you finally relented.

“(y/n). i couldn’t be so shameless and ask you to forgive me, and while this may sound like a really bad excuse, i just wanted you to know that i didn’t mean any single word i said that time. as laughable as it was, i never wished for you to be hurt, especially on words that shouldn’t have meaning, words that i made up as a cowardly defense, words that had zero truth in them. i-i was scared that you changed my world so quickly that my initial reaction was to reject it, even though every time i met you i had nothing but pleasant warmth brimming in my chest. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry that you were hurt because of me.” it was all over the place, it may have missed a lot of points he had made on his head, but it was genuine. at this point with just this apology, alhaitham won’t be greedy and hoped his was accepted, he just wished that the wound on your heart that he had tore with his words would ease even just a little. because he truly, truly regret it.

you weren’t sure what to say, your eyes stopped at a window in the room.

“i.. don’t know what to say, alhaitham. all of this didn’t make the heartbreak i felt that day any less painful,” you mumbled, you could still remember it very vividly. “of course, that wasn’t my intention! i was stupid. i didn’t come here expecting you to welcome me with open arms, i just—very selfishly, realized now that i need you in my life, and i’m going to work very hard so you can at least tolerate that idea as well.” he was visibly stressed, his face filled with guilt. something you never thought he was capable of.

as much as you wanted to just push him away, you couldn’t ignore the emotional struggle he’s been having. you had no idea. though the reason excused nothing, you now had a better understanding of the man who’s standing right in front of you.

you sighed. “things are going to be very different, alhaitham. i sincerely hope you know that i’ll never come to you first again for anything ever. i never wanted to experience something like that again.” you said, setting out clear boundaries that what had happened in the past, was not going to happen for a second time. you’re going to make him work for it.

“i wouldn’t have it any other way. thank you so much (y/n), thank you,” alhaitham said, currently still feeling guilty because he knew the only reason he was getting a second chance was because your boundless kindness. he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he now was going to do everything in his power to accept him back into your life. which was something he did not expect to be easy, but he prefer it this way. he's beyond grateful that you had selflessly given him another chance to fight for you, and he's gonna fight like hell.

now alhaitham had hope. something he doesn’t really say out loud due to its nature being a bit childish, however at that time, he allowed himself to imagine a future with you, and how truly strange it was that the mere image of you being with him could make his stomach fluttered with pure joy.

alhaitham now understood very well that rationality did not work well with love.

and he’s okay with that.

-

more a/n: i love alhaitham but i wanna see him get punched once for the things he said hahaha..... that aside thank you all so so so so much for the interest on this fic that so many of you guys requested a part 2 :') i wanna say i had a blast writing this one. alhaitham is such an interesting character, especially regarding his relationship with emotions. once again thank you much and i'll be back with fluff soon so look out for that!!!

TAGLIST

@sunsethw4 @michikocoi @sassy-cat-in-town @potatoesenpaii @mis-disaster @bearbae4 @anemohusbando @aquamarine001 @aleahsyyyy @atsukawolfcat @xiao-bedo @r0ttenhearts @milkypompon @lacy-lady @redactedhimbo @vvyeislazzy @pufferfishgolfball @ittosoneandoniwife @levisbebe @silverninja48 @imkaaayy @saeyunn @gookimswife @kisum9 @akinaii @itsmebbyxm @esmegalathynius9 @spicycloudsalad @leche-de-coconut @sunflower124007 @mikismusings @xiamuyi @dancing-hillary @bewhyy @yourdailymemedelivery @lizzhearthz @bubblyjoonjoon @aloveablechaos @mechanicalbeat1 @ailinsano

@veepeepoo @foreshadxw @makiaaa @renjunniex @yyueliang @iruiji @orginiallyann @irisxiel @peskywaffleiron @warrior-of-justice @roguexmoriartea @em0zombie @susvale @vynbin @alisonyus @delightfuldragoncollection @eurooki @skyeblue1737

also should i make a general tag list??????

[valeriele3]

Yellow Carnations

A Hanahaki disease + SAGAU/Cult AU

Notes: Wanderer will be called Wanderer, or you can imagine the name you gave him, and Traveler will be referred to as Traveler since no one knows their real name except their sibling (and maybe Paimon?). Sorry this is rushed

A story where ones hope to love another turns hopeless.

"Traveler, can I.. tell you something?"

"Hm? Of course!"

You whip your head around to make sure no one else but the traveler can hear and whisper to their ear, "I like Wanderer."

The Traveler's eyes widen at your sudden confession and excitedly say, or rather, exclaim, "You do!?" She laughs bubbly. "I knew it! Sooo, when are you planning to confess?" They ask, their eyes practically sparkling.

"C-Confess!? No, no, no. I can't do that. Or at least, not yet!"

"And why not?"

"I don't even know him that well; I doubt he even remembers me."

"As if. you're practically hovering around him 24/7. I'm sure he remembers you. I would even go as far as to say that he likes you back!"

"Really? You think so.?"

"Mhm! If he didn't like you, he would've told you so, harshly, or even ignored your entire existence."

"Then..do you think I have a chance? You're really, really~ close to him, right?"

"Hmm~..Yeah?"

"Wha, so I really don't have a chance..!"

"Kidding, kidding, I think you have a high chance."

You continue to panic inside and overthink the possible endings if you were to confess. The traveler, noticing this, tells you, "How about this? I ask him if he's currently into anyone and maybe even pry enough to get him to say the name, ahem, your name, ahem."

"Really? You would do that for me?"

"Of course, you're my best friend."

"Of course I like, no, I love them. That isn't even a question worth answering; it's a given." Wanderer rolls his eyes and walks away to who knows where.

After waiting until the man was gone, you slowly walk out of your hiding spot, bubbling with joy. You and the traveler share a look and high-five each other.

After finding out about Wanderer's feelings for you, you consistently hung around him more; he always acted annoyed, but it wasn't any different from past interactions you've had with him.

You figured that this truly is just how he shows affection, somehow, like a tsundere!

And so you bid your time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to confess.

And when the time came, you faced a great humiliation.

It turns out he wasn't in love with you at all. No, he could never fall in love with someone like you; he said it himself after all.

You felt sick in your stomach, like it was churning, your throat was aching, and it felt dry.

While it was true he loved a Y/N, the Y/N he loved was not you. He loved the Creator.

How did you not know about this Creator? They even have the same name as you.

Wait, no, something's weird. What's this about a creator? You don't remember Teyvat having anything like that.

But before you could ponder anymore, your train of thoughts was interrupted by a coughing fit, covering your mouth with your hands. You tried to stop coughing, but the itching feeling was too much to handle.

Cough

Cough

You pause, 'petals?', where did the petals come from? There's no flowers around you

Clutching your hand, you began to spiral in your thoughts.

D̵̢̟͔̱͕͑̍͒̋̔̊̽́͝ǫ̷̧̧̜͍͖͎͕͉́̓́̍͜ ̶̻̲͛̀͛͑̒̾̕͝y̵̹̮̖͊͊̍̄̔͠ơ̵͇̺̯͓̗̫̜̝̆̌̏͜͝ú̵̪͚̫̬͈̙̭͈̙̈́́̌͗̐̂͋̓̔̈́͑̓͠͝ ̷̨̧̩̠̱̘̳̜̝́̐̉̅̐͗͒̏͗͝r̵̛͉̃̂̎̾̋̎͆̎ę̴̧̧̛̛̪̱̜̞͚̦̘̳̙͙͉̄̇̋͋́͑̓̎̌͜͠͝͠ṁ̶̡̢̬̤͖͙̪̟̰̹͇͕̹̼̿͒̋̄̈̽̂̔̑͌̃̒̒͜͝e̵̖̻͚̝̦̘̤̓̒̉m̴̢̝̝͈̭͙̯͚͊̀͐̍̊̈́̚͘ḇ̶͉̬̖̅͒̂̽̔̆̊̆́͒͑ͅe̸͙̞̭̮̽͌̀̓̈́̎͂r̷̻͓̠̬̖̙̗̺̥̹̺̠͕̄͊̀̀̑̔͛̃̀͋͗̀͘͝ ̶͔͕̽͒̓̈́͋́̒̒̓̚í̶͍̺̣̞̟͐͐ͅt̴̹͐̎̾̃̚͝ͅ?̴̘̥̫̲͈͉̊͗̉̇̆͆͛͑̾͘͝ ̷̹̝̝̳͔̪̖̩̜͍͚͇̀̀͘H̶̫̺̿̅̍́̽̃̇͋͗a̸̧̢̢̢̛̯̮̫̩͙̠̫͔͙͔̔̀͊͒̾̆̽́n̴̨̞̬̾͜ą̶͙̥̥̻͎̼͂̓h̵̫̤͚͖̙̐á̷̧̧̪̥̭͖̂̂̐̔́̊̐͜͜ͅk̵̘̰̎̓̇͗͆͗́̿̈͛̀͠͝ͅi̶̛̳̍̈́̚ ̸̧̲̘̰̯͓̈́̓́͊͂́͊Ḑ̶̼̰̰͍̫̗͔̩̣̤̻̝̮̲͛̾̑͠i̶̧͖̪̋͌͌̒̔̉͐͋́́͗̿͆̅͠ş̶̲̬̦̺̖̀̒͒͂̆͛ę̴̡̝̳̩̝̹̥̯͇̮̻̪̟̬͑̑͐ằ̴̡̡͎͓̬̱͚͎͈̯̦̇͒̅͊ś̸̢̧̺̘̜͇̰̯͚̦̉̉e̵̡̡̤̙͖͉͍̝̭̞̝̓

"Y/N?"

The traveler spoke

"Are you alright..?"

Silence

The Traveler kept calling out to you but received no response.

'Ah..'

'My head..it hurts..throat..water..'

"Y/N?"

'Is someone calling me..?'

"He— Y/N!"

Thud

Opening your eyes, you see an unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Now on alert, you begin scanning your surroundings.

Creak

Surprised by the sudden sound of the door, as if by reflex, you quickly pretended to be asleep, just like the times you pretended to be asleep when you still stayed at your parents house when you were younger.

"Oh, you're awake."

They begin to move closer to you, and your breath hitches, but you remain unmoved.

"Chill Y/N. It's just me."

Now able to listen to the voice more clearly, you realize it's the Traveler.

Slowly opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Traveler smiling at you beside your bed.

'I knew the traveler was good-looking, but damn. Imagine waking up to this sight.'

"Here, drink some water." The traveler offers, and you reach for the water in their hands, of course, saying thank you in the exchange.

"What happened?" you ask.

"You passed out out of nowhere; oh, don't worry, I made sure to get you checked out by a doctor, and they said that you probably just overworked yourself."

"I see.."

"Oh! The petals..! Did the doctor say anything about it?" You inquire.

"Petals? What petals?" the Traveler tilts their head in confusion.

"Before I passed out, I think I coughed up some flower petals."

"Ah..you must still be a bit dazed. Don't worry, you didn't cough up any petals. And if you did, well, that's a bit worrying. We can get you checked again if you want."

You shake your head, "No, its alright, I trust you. I probably just imagined it or something.."

Deciding to trust your friend, you try to move onto another subject, "By the way, where are we? I don't recognize this place."

"Oh! We're at my teapot."

"Hmm~ You decorated this place wel—I mean, what?! Teapot!?" Realizing that the Traveler might find it odd if you don't question how being inside a teapot works, you acted surprised in the middle, hoping that the Traveler would fall for your clumsy acting.

The Traveler stares at you for a second or two before answering. "Yup! I got this as a... gift of friendship. It uses adeptal energy to maintain the place, I guess? I don't really know the complexities about this place, so you can just ask Tubby about any questions regarding this place." The Traveler explains

"Hmm..Adeptal energy, huh? I've heard of that before..Liyue, right?"

"That's right!"

As you and the Traveler engage in casual conversation, you start to feel an itch in your throat, but you decide to ignore it. It's probably just a common cold about to come.

After resting for a few days in the teapot at the behest of the Traveler, you began engaging in your normal everyday life, or as normal as it could; you no longer hang around the Wanderer and try your absolute best to avoid ever running into him. Some people either look at you mockingly or with pity. But it's fine. You don't care about them; they won't have an effect on your life.

Another thing that's different from normal, though, is the fact that you're coughing up blood-stained flowers.

You didn't know the cause; you didn't want to worry other people, so you didn't tell anyone, but you did go see a doctor secretly, although not even they could provide the cause.

All you knew was that, upon looking back, it all started with a small cough, flower petals, and then as time went on, you started coughing up petals with blood.

You were worried that the next thing that might come out of your mouth might be full-grown flowers, but surely that's not possible, right?

A/N: SO..This was supposed to be an idea post like Live Stream, but the past me decided to write about it at the time with no planning whatsoever. Even the character chosen (Wanderer) was not planned. It was originally Xiao, but I couldn't do it since the dialogue didn't feel "Xiao," so I just swapped it with Wanderer since he has a very veryyy blunt personality.

So yes, this is technically unfinished, and I don't think I'll ever get back to it if I just continue to leave it inside my drafts.

Feel free to make a fic out of this, and if you do..PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG ME. I'VE BEEN CRAVING SAGAU + HANAHAKI DISEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Additional notes regarding this fic are in the comments