#and someone just thought that they didn’t exist?

[chosok-amo]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and that’s where you are . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you simply nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part5

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: sadnesses.

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He’d never thought of himself as someone who could be in a serious relationship. He never thought he could be devoted enough, or love someone that deeply. For Rafe, it was beyond impossible. Fleeting interests had always come first in his life.

It’s not that he found it difficult to connect or share feelings with someone; he just never wanted to. He’d always seen it as a waste of time.

Whether love even existed was something he still wasn’t sure of, because he didn’t believe in it.

But he was sure the feelings he had for you were real. He couldn’t say it was love—he wasn’t even sure love existed in that way. But the affection he felt for you was beyond words.

Yes, he was rich—rich enough to support his family for three generations. But he quickly realized that the bond he had with you was his real wealth.

He’d never thought of you as different from anyone else. To him, you were a typical Kook: rich, aware of your own beauty. To overlook that beauty, he would have to be blind.

Yes, he’d liked girls before. He liked spending time with them, preferring quick, physical flings over emotional entanglements. He was the kind of guy who enjoyed one-night stands.

Until he met you.

You’d met in a completely ordinary way. You already knew of each other; you both came from the island’s wealthiest families. It was impossible not to know one another.

When you ended up side by side at one of those dull Kook events, neither of you thought you'd hit it off. You weren't much of a drinker, usually preferring lighter, non-alcoholic cocktails. But that event was so painfully boring that you thought you couldn’t get through it without a drink in hand.

You hadn’t expected him to be there. You hadn’t expected him to want to escape the event, just like you did. And you certainly hadn’t expected that, while grabbing different drinks, the two of you would start talking.

You ended up spending the whole night together, maybe just to pass the time, maybe because you actually enjoyed the conversation—you couldn’t really tell.

But after that night, neither of you could stop thinking about the other.

Surprisingly— you were the first girl to linger in Rafe’s mind without him sleeping with her. He couldn’t get the length of the conversation, or your laugh, out of his head.

From then on, things began to change. At every party, his eyes searched for you. At every Kook event, he hoped to find you alone—watching for those rare moments when you weren’t with your family. He didn’t see you as some object of desire; he saw you for who you were.

He didn’t just want to have sex with you; he wanted to spend time with you.

At parties, the second he saw you, he unconsciously pushed away any girl sitting next to him. He wanted you to see him differently, even though you already knew his reputation.

When he realized you were starting to show up at every party, he started distancing himself from other girls. Not only did he push them aside, but he wouldn’t even let them come close to him. He acted without thinking, because if he had thought it through, he would have found a way to stop himself.

He didn’t want you to see him as a playboy. He wasn’t sure how he wanted you to see him; he just wanted you to see him as… a good person. Even he couldn’t believe he was trying to change himself, but he couldn’t help it.

Rafe looked at you with the same awe an eight-year-old might have if they saw Spider-Man in person.

He couldn’t help but want you. But it wasn’t just desire—he was crazy about you.

Every time you talked, he wanted more. For you, he’d probably break down the atom just so you two could talk about it for hours.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to share a bed. But for the first time, Rafe didn’t feel fixated on that. He didn’t just have sex with you; he made love to you. Every kiss ignited a warmth in his chest. Every time you moaned his name, his heart pounded for you. Every time you held hands, he couldn’t help but kiss your hand.

He’d never felt this way for anyone. No one else was like you. You were the only woman who made him feel like he even had a heart—aside from his mom.

And it went on like that. Rafe stayed loyal to you. Even when you weren’t officially together, when you were just flirting and spending nights together, he never looked at another girl.

At parties, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Whether it was your hand, your arm, or your waist… he always stayed close. He liked acting as if you two were in a real relationship.

Rafe thought he was just feeling things more intensely than usual. He’d never felt this way about relationships before. You were the woman who’d stayed in his life the longest.

When you two finally got together, it felt like a fairy tale. Everything was perfect, and it stayed that way. Every time he saw you, his heart warmed. Every touch, every time you called him “my love,” it erased the world around him. There was only you. His whole world revolved around you.

Everything was perfect.

Rafe’s life had been nothing but a sea of gray. But the moment you entered his life, all the colors returned.

During the year and a half of your relationship, Rafe felt like he was lying on a beach, listening to the ocean waves. Every moment with you brought a peace to his life like birdsong.

Yes, there were arguments. But you two always found a way through. It was surprising, but he couldn’t stay away from you; he couldn’t stand being apart. You two never even talked about breaking up.

Not until now.

Neither of you had the strength for a breakup conversation. To do that would mean it was truly over. That the beautiful year and a half was done. Rafe had never wanted that. But somehow, he knew his reactions—the way things had spiraled—had led to this moment, and it scared him.

A few weeks back, you’d sent a message saying you were keeping the baby. He hadn’t known what to say. He was afraid, afraid things would stay just like this. And a message saying you were keeping the baby definitely felt like a breakup message in your language. He was sure of that. His heart and mind were at war.

Every moment with you had made his heart race with love and excitement; he’d never felt this kind of weight—especially from you.

“Earth to Rafe! Get it together, dude.” Kelce’s voice snapped him out of it, and Rafe looked up from his drink to find Kelce looking ready to shake him. He hadn’t even realized how lost in thought he was. His day-to-day was becoming affected.

He was lovesick, but he was the one who’d pushed you away.

Rafe dropped his hand from his chin and ran his fingers through his hair. He hated looking weak. He’d worked so hard to prove that he wasn’t. He wanted to show everyone a breakup wouldn’t break him. His eyes, lips, and face might lie, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice firm. He felt like he was losing his mind when he wasn’t with you, but he wasn’t ready to accept what came with you.

He liked risk, loved adrenaline. He enjoyed going full throttle, ignoring the dangers.

And you were pregnant. With Rafe’s baby.

There were so many times he wanted to erase that thought from his mind. He wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. He loved you like crazy, but this wasn’t the life he wanted or was ready for.

He didn’t feel good enough to be a father. He wasn’t at an age to start a family. He had a whole life to live. He could spend years with you, but he wasn’t ready to start a family. All he wanted was you. Just you, without all that extra.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, feeling suffocated by his thoughts, glancing around. He was sick of this stupid place. Golfing, hanging out at the country club—it all felt so fake. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if he was suffocating even though they were outside.

It was like the sunny sky suddenly turned to pouring rain in front of his eyes.

“This place is boring as fuck. I’m out.” He raised a hand to call for the check, noticing the questioning looks from Topper and Kelce. He didn’t owe them any explanation. Who were they to him anyway?

As if they were so important…

“I swear, serious relationships are a disease. If it’s gotten even to Rafe Cameron…” Rafe exhaled heavily, watching the waiter approach as Topper’s mocking laughter echoed. Even his friends talking like that was getting to him.

He’d already gotten into a fight with Kelce over you weeks ago. Even if things were over between you, he wasn’t going to forgive Kelce, not after he’d slut-shamed you. Topper clearly wanted things to cool down, hoping his two closest friends would both be at his upcoming birthday.

"It's like he's had a serious relationship before and found someone to actually date," Topper snickered, while Kelce nudged him under the table. Kelce looked ready to lunge at him, clearly annoyed, and Topper seemed just as irritated. Bringing up your situation, knowing it would rile Rafe, made him look like he was out for a fight. If they weren’t at the golf club, Rafe was sure Kelce would be on him in a heartbeat.

"Talk like your dating history’s any better, it’s hilarious. First, there's Ruthie—total bitch nightmare. Then there's Sarah Cameron, your best friend’s sister. Clean up your act first, creep."

Rafe could hardly stand it anymore. If he heard Kelce mention one more name from his life, he was going to knock him out. He’d rather throw himself off a cliff than lose more brain cells listening to these two idiots. When their chatter finally died down, Rafe took a deep breath. He hated this.

"Hey Sofia, you look as… Pogue as ever. You guys just love that, don’t you?" Topper grinned, watching the waitress as she met his gaze with a blank look, as if his very presence annoyed her. She quickly shifted her attention back to Rafe. Watching the exchange, Topper nudged Kelce, amused by the interest sparking in Sofia's eyes. He couldn’t help but find it funny.

As Rafe took out his wallet, he listened to his friends’ ongoing conversation. "I can't be alone here with you in this dumb place. I can’t stand you and your girlfriend. It’s like the two of you found your perfect match.” Instead of responding, Topper rolled his eyes and ignored Kelce as he took out his wallet.

Topper, like Kelce and Rafe, took out his wallet, muttering, "Right, says the guy with so many partners he’s practically a walking biohazard."

Kelce's eyes widened as he insisted that wasn’t true, making Topper chuckle. He loved stretching the truth for a laugh. Kelce rolled his eyes, quickly handing his card to the waitress, while Rafe’s gaze drifted to his open wallet. He couldn’t help but notice the photo tucked inside—a picture of you and him.

Was this how you’d keep showing up in his life?

Would you just appear, throwing yourself in his face whenever he least expected it?

He hadn’t seen you in weeks. Rafe wasn’t sure if you were avoiding him or if you were holed up somewhere, in your own world. He sighed as he looked at the photo, memories washing over him. He missed the old days, and the weight of this picture hit him so hard he felt disoriented. Your cheeks pressed together in the photo, with Rafe's arms wrapped around your waist while you snapped the shot. That smile on your face—it was so beautiful he couldn’t look away. He could’ve stared at you for hours, just watching. He had watched you sleep so many times. Somehow, you only grew more beautiful each time he saw you.

His love for you was a flame that refused to die, and it didn’t take a genius to see it. He loved you.

Though he couldn’t admit it, he was scared. It shouldn’t have ended like this, but he didn’t know what to do.

Rafe wasn’t one for big moments. He wasn’t known for making the best decisions. He’d usually take his time, mulling things over until he was sure they were right. But in quick decisions, he tended to mess up and stumble.

Hearing about your pregnancy face-to-face had sent a wave of panic crashing through him. Even though he had no idea what to do, he tried to keep his composure. He couldn’t forget the moment you’d tearfully said the two of you were a mistake. He wasn’t used to seeing you cry. Those red eyes of yours were burned into his memory.

He didn’t want regrets. He didn’t want to wish he’d done things differently.

But the thought of a happy ending with you? That had never even crossed his mind.

As he kept looking at the photo, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help but remember that day. Time with you had been so perfect, filling him with warmth every time he thought of it.

He remembered it so clearly. It was your third month together, seven months since everything between you had started. You’d shared countless special moments. Every experience with you was a first for him. Whatever you two did, he felt like a clueless schoolboy with a crush—and he meant that.

Who had he ever woken up with, wrapped in his arms? Who else’s hair had he smelled as he fell asleep? Who else’s eyes had he gazed into, getting lost? Who else had made his heart race like this?

No one. In some ways, Rafe Cameron was a total virgin Mary.

For the first time in ages, your family had to go overseas, leaving you home alone—for a week. Being with you felt like a vacation to him. You swam, you cooked, he tried to make you breakfast, you showered together, you slept…

That week was so perfect he felt like he was filled with peace. He’d replay it in his mind over and over again. You and those memories were always there. Always would be.

This photo was taken just after you’d both showered, right before cooking a meal together for the first time. You both made dinner that evening. It wasn’t the best, but because you’d done it together, no amount of money could buy a meal that meaningful.

It was honestly an achievement for you both. You went into the kitchen at six and finally finished cooking by nine. At one point, you even considered ordering pizza but convinced each other you were close to done. And then you spent another two hours in the kitchen—guess it wasn’t so “close” after all.

It was such a beautiful day.

After dinner, you’d made sex.

As he felt his smile widen at the memory, a sudden jab to his leg snapped his attention back. His smile faded instantly, replaced by his usual hard look. Trying to figure out what had happened, he noticed the waitress waiting for him. Frustration bubbled up in him for interrupting his happy thoughts of you. He looked away from the photo, quickly pulling out his card without making eye contact. He knew that if he looked at you, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

"Sofia’s waiting. Just give her what she wants," Topper teased, a smirk on his face, as Rafe sighed and tapped his card.

If he gave attention to every girl who showed interest, like he used to, he’d never be able to keep a serious relationship. Not that he was sure your relationship was even still… ongoing.

But he was certain he’d be off the market for a while. Touching someone else after you didn’t feel right. Embarrassingly enough, he doubted he’d even, well, respond to anyone else.

He stood up, grabbing his keys as he hurried past the waitress without a second glance. As crazy as it might make him to be alone, he couldn’t handle his friends’ stupid conversations any longer.

Even if it drove him mad, he couldn’t stay by Topper or Kelce’s side for another second.

As soon as he got in his car, his phone rang, and he let out a long sigh. Not a single moment of peace today. His thin veneer of calm was barely hanging on, and it felt like the day was determined to shatter it. Starting the car, he glanced at the number on the screen before it even connected.

Wheezie Cameron.

What on earth could she want?

Honestly, if Wheezie was calling him, it’d better be because she was in actual danger or Rose had finally stormed out of the house for good.

He was really hoping for the second one. He didn’t have a penny to spare right now.

“What?” he answered, not hiding his irritation. All he wanted was to get out of this trashy place and be stretched out at home with the ocean in view. No Wheezie, no Rose, and definitely no Ward. In fact, he’d had it with all of them. He was so done with seeing the same faces every day.

All he wanted was silence.

“Hello to you too, Rafe.” Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her tone. It drove him crazy. He wanted to chuck his phone out the window. Whatever Wheezie needed, she’d better spit it out so he could say no, hang up, and blast Kendrick Lamar.

“Just tell me, Wheezie. I’m not in the mood.” Wheezie was still young, and Rafe tried—halfheartedly—to keep from cursing around her. Ward and Rose had chewed him out about his language, and sure, they had a point. But it was annoying. He was the big brother—though honestly, he’d have preferred being an only child.

“Nope,” she said smugly. Rafe tightened his grip on the wheel, jaw clenched. Why did both his sisters have to be such idiots? It was like God deliberately made both his sisters total morons. “I’m not telling you a thing until you say hello properly.”

Rafe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, fighting the urge to yell. He forced himself to keep his eyes open. He was driving, after all, and the last thing he wanted was a crash. But if Wheezie kept this up, he’d be losing control of the wheel voluntarily.

“Hello! Hello, Wheezie! Now, spill it!” The words came out as a shout before he could stop himself. Immediate regret hit him. His temper was awful lately. You were gone. In short, he was a mess.

When he heard her give a dramatic sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t fazed, of course. She was used to this, barely fazed by him anymore. Classic Rafe, right? “So, I was out today. Shopping with Rose—”

Rafe knew how his sister worked—unfortunately. She wasn’t excitable, but she loved to narrate. Whatever the hell had happened, she was going to start from the million hours leading up to it. With a deep breath, he braced himself for the full play-by-play, including the time of day and every store clerk’s name. God help him if she started counting her steps…

The Kendrick Lamar dream was officially dead.

He had zero interest in listening to a full breakdown of her day with Rose, but if he hung up, Wheezie would go ballistic. She’d tell their dad, and Ward would chew him out for that, too. That he couldn’t deal with. Right now, he just wanted a bit of time to himself. Just some peace. Just him, alone.

“Then, I saw this blue dress—”

Rafe wanted to drive the car straight off a cliff. He couldn’t handle this. This was killing him. Every pointless detail Wheezie added wrecked his efforts to calm down.

“...and then we left, and we ran into Sarah. She asked about you. Can you believe it? Then she said she wanted to meet up— Family reunion!”

What the—what is even happening?

Even when you were holding your baby in your mind, all you could think about was ice cream. The cravings were off the charts. Sometimes, you wanted something so badly it felt like the world might end if you didn’t get it. Lately, strawberries were your biggest craving. You couldn’t stop. If your hands weren’t stained red from eating so many, you felt like you’d explode.

But right now, your mind had drifted back to ice cream. You wanted vanilla ice cream so much you could’ve dived into a whole tub of it.

You wanted someone with you when the cravings hit. Someone who’d put up with your fussing—like Rafe.

Just thinking about him made you tense, which was happening way too often these days. Especially now, carrying his baby, it was almost always on your mind, making you anxious.

Being alone was really hard. You’d never felt alone in a crowd—until now.

You waited.

You really waited. When you told him you were keeping the baby, you’d waited for some kind of response. You’d waited for him to call, to come over, to tell you he’d be there. But he never showed.

He didn’t text, didn’t call, didn’t make an effort. He left you to handle this alone.

To be honest, you hadn’t been sure you’d even keep the baby when you first told him. You were just so angry, you’d wanted him to think you would. But even so, your mind never actually veered toward an abortion, though you had the right. There was nothing wrong with choosing an abortion—but you’d decided you wanted this baby.

The idea of a man controlling a woman’s choices was sickening. Having an abortion was a right, just like having a child was.

When you went for your first appointment and saw the baby for the first time, your heart raced. They asked if the father would be coming, and you didn’t want to answer, but a quick “No” slipped out. Your mind wanted him nowhere near this, but your heart couldn’t quite let go.

Luckily, you’d always been someone who chose her head over her heart.

An “almost-man” who’d abandoned you with his child—he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t even a man at all; he was just a boy.

Taking responsibility was part of it. You’d respected his boundaries. He’d made it clear he didn’t want this, so you’d made your choice to raise the baby on your own.

Single motherhood would be hard, but you wanted this child.

And you’d do what Rafe wanted. He didn’t want the baby, so you’d make sure he’d never see it. You’d make sure he’d never touch, never meet this child.

When you were on that exam table, he should have been the one holding your hand.

But he wasn’t.

The support came from where you hadn’t expected it.

Your mom.

She was still upset you were keeping the baby, but it didn’t take her long to understand this was your life. The day you’d left home in anger had seemed to shock her into a full 180.

You knew your dad didn’t approve, either, but they’d never once turned their backs on you. Maybe they were scared you’d leave and never come back. Who knows?

When you learned the baby was healthy, you felt a deep calm settle over you. The doctor told you it was too early to know the gender, but you could wait. That was okay.

You were two months and three weeks along.

Despite everything, all the heartache, when you listened to the baby’s heartbeat, it was like none of it had ever happened. When your mom saw your eyes welling up, she quickly looked down, but she squeezed your hand and smiled.

From the woman who’d once shouted for you to get an abortion, to the one tearing up over her grandchild…

It was strange.

The baby was healthy. There was no sign of any issues. And soon enough, in just a few weeks, you’d know the gender. That made you happy.

Your hands were shaking when they gave you the ultrasound photo. You didn’t feel shy about asking for a few extras—you wanted to put them everywhere. The reality of it struck you all over again. You were going to have a baby, to be a mother, and there were only months left to go.

You’d be a mom, and you’d do whatever it took to give this child a good life.

You

Are you still working at the ice cream shop?

JJ Maybank

Nah, got fired.

Why?

You

Shit. I really need some ice cream.

JJ Maybank

Ok.

Vanilla or chocolate?

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[hoshifighting]

tutor!woozi (part 2)

check the part 1 (kinktober bonus)

WARNINGS: +18, smut, (oral f. & m.), throat fucking, penetrative sex, mentions of body fluids (cum, spit)

after that night, for all the times you’d wanted to text him, your ego kept its foot firmly on the brake. if jihoon thought you’d just come crawling back after his little remark, he was dead wrong. it didn’t matter how much your body craved another taste of him; no way were you about to give him that satisfaction. besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one who enjoyed that night, despite his attitude. if he wanted it again, HE’d have to come to you.

over the next week, every hallway encounter was a battle of wills. you’d pass by him with your friends, glancing away just slightly so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. and while your friends couldn’t help but notice the way jihoon’s friends looked at you as you walked by—waiting for the smirk you always used to throw his way—you’d hold your chin up and act like he didn’t even exist.

the whispers had started up again, too. after all, you and jihoon had been seen together plenty at the start of the semester, supposedly “studying” for a class you knew you didn’t even share. his friends had even toasted him over some rumor that tutoring wasn’t the only “learning” happening during those sessions. and now? they watched you like they were trying to figure out if you’d switched interests, especially when they saw you walking through campus with someone else’s arm casually slung over your shoulder. jihoon’s friends wore confused expressions, and if jihoon himself noticed…well, he didn’t give a single clue.

but it was getting harder to ignore it. especially tonight.

it was 9 pm, and you were dressed and ready for a night at the local bar, hoping a little drink and dance would be enough to take your mind off him completely. heading out, you made the mistake of cutting through his dorm hall, almost jogging to keep the tension from catching up with you. maybe he’d be out. or maybe he was too busy doing something else. you didn’t care. but as you neared the end of the hallway, a hand caught your arm, yanking you backward so quickly that you stumbled.

before you could react, you found yourself inside a dorm room, the familiar smell already cluing you in to where you were before you could fully process it. jihoon’s hand was still around your arm, the dorm was silent, the noise of the hall muffled as the door clicked shut behind you.

“where are you running off to, dressed like that?”

your pulse was racing, but you gave him a steady look, shrugging your arm free of his grip. “does it matter?” you smirked, turning as if to open the door, only to feel him step even closer behind you, blocking the way.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask, crossing your arms.

you knew you had his attention, and now, for whatever reason, it looked like he couldn’t hold back anymore. jihoon opens his mouth like he’s about to answer, but he bites his tongue, his gaze dropping to the side as if the walls would have a solution for him.

“what’s wrong with me?” he finally retorts, jaw tense. “you had to ignore me that hard in front of my friends? couldn’t even throw a glance my way?”

you let out a genuine laugh. “weren’t you the one who told me not to reach out to you unless i wanted a ‘good fuck’? well, sorry, but didn’t seem worth it.”

his eyes flash. “really? ‘cause you seemed pretty into it at the time,” he counters, almost daring you to deny it.

“maybe i was.” you shrug. “but maybe i got over it.”

jihoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a half step forward, closing the space separating you. “over it? you think you can just get over it that easy?”

“why not?”

he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “you’re full of it. bet you thought about that night as much as i did. don’t. lie.”

your heart races, but you lift your chin defiantly. “if i’m full of it, then so are you, mr. i-don’t-need-anyone-reachin’-out-to-me. didn’t think you’d care if i ignored you. you’re all talk jihoon.” you tease, looking up at him, daring him to prove you wrong.

“all talk?” he scoffs, his mouth inches from yours, but he doesn’t close the gap. “maybe you need a reminder of how ‘not worth it’ i was.”

before you can reply, his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, pulling you close as his other hand tilts your chin up. his lips brush against yours in the faintest tease of a kiss before he pulls back, just enough to keep you wanting.

you let out a frustrated huff, trying to close the distance, but he holds you in place, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face. “not so fast... you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“you know i did.”

“so admit it... admit you wanted me to come after you.”

your pride fights to hold out, but the way his fingers dig into your ass meat, the way his voice drops just for you, it’s impossible to resist. “fine,” you whisper back. “i wanted you to come after me.”

he’s leaning in, lips parted, ready to crash into yours finally when your hand presses against his chest. he freezes, eyes flicking up to yours, searching. “bad boys don't get kissed.” you mock, savoring the way his expression falters.

he recognizes that phrase. he opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but he just closes his eyes, breathing out a low exhale through his nose, clearly biting back his response.

but the fury in his eyes returns, darker, and without a word, his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a grip that tells you exactly where this is going.

you let him guide you onto your knees.

“fine,” he mutters, voices gravelly, fingers grazing your jaw. “don’t need your kiss, anyway. got a better idea.”

his thumb drags along your lower lip, pressing until you open your mouth for him, and he can’t hide the hungry look that flashes across his face.

“this mouth of yours,” he mutters, thumb slipping between your lips. “always running it, always pushing me.” he watches intently as you take him in, tongue curling around his thumb, obedient despite the defiance in your eyes. “bet you’ll think twice about mouthing off when you’re choking on my cock.”

he undoes his shorts string, sliding it off, and before you know it, he’s pushing the fabric down just enough to free himself, his cock standing hard, thick and flushed in front of you.

he strokes himself slowly, dragging his length along your lips, smearing precum over them like lipgloss as he says, “you tap my thigh if you need a breath, got it?”

you nod, mouth already watering as you part your lips wider, letting him guide himself between them. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the sharp tug, and then he starts pushing forward, filling your mouth inch by inch until he’s pressing against the back of your throat.

he doesn’t ease up. he moves faster, driving deeper until he’s hitting that spot that makes your throat clench around him, your eyes watering instantly. spit starts to collect at the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin as he pulls back only to push in again, even deeper this time, his cock stretching your throat wide, demanding every inch of space.

“all that attitude… gone.” his hand tightens in your hair, holding you still as he starts thrusting with a rough rhythm, hips snapping forward. “bet you’d do anything to prove me wrong now, wouldn’t you?”

he’s relentless, each thrust pressing your mouth and throat to their limits, your gag reflex triggered with every push. you feel spit pooling, slipping past your lips as you struggle to keep up with him, swallowing around his length even as he reaches deeper, his cock twitching at the tight, involuntary clenches of your throat.

you’re practically dripping, reduced to whimpers and gasps as he fucks your mouth, his hips rolling forward again and again, no space left for anything but him. when he pulls back for a second, a trail of spit stretches between your lips and the head of his cock, and he groans, wiping the mess over your cheek before plunging in again, going even harder.

“so pretty like this,” he mutters, watching as your eyes grow wetter, each thrust forcing a new wave of spit down your chin and neck, over his thighs. your fingers gripping his thighs for balance, and he smirks, giving a particularly sharp thrust that has you choking, throat convulsing as a line of spit drips down your chin. “that’s right. take it all.”

he starts slowing, grinding his hips forward, keeping himself pressed deep as he lets out a low groan, feeling the way you tremble. and then he thrusts one last time, deeper than before, pushing himself right to the base. he lets out a ragged breath as he stills, his cock twitching as you feel him tense, holding himself there, filling your throat as he spills into you, viscous and hot.

you swallow as best as you can, the bitter taste coating your tongue, but he doesn’t let you pull back right away.

you let the fullness press down on your throat until the edges of your vision begin to blur, the air thinning, everything swimming. you tap his thigh rapidly, a faint, desperate plea, and just as your lungs burn hottest, he releases, pulling you back with a hand steadying your shoulder. you slump onto your heels, shoulders sagging as you gulp down air, your head swimming with the remnants of his hold on you.

his hands stay firm on your shoulders, keeping you steady as you breathe, your throat aches, stretched and raw, the sting of his rough pace lingering with every shallow gulp.

as he maneuvers you onto the bed, his hands slide down impatiently and your dress and panties are gone all in once. he pauses for a moment, taking you in, his gaze raking over the sight of your swollen lips and sultry eyes, glazed with that barely-there smirk. 

he cant do this right now.

he grips your arm, twisting you to fall chest-first onto the mattress, hips lifted up as his arm curls around you.

“you—” you scoff, voice raspy, “can’t you fuck me while looking at my face?”

he lets out a low laugh, leaning close to your ear as his hand slides down your back. “oh, i think you’ve had enough of my face for tonight… plus, i think you look even better like this—bent over and whining.”

you couldnt even have a second to roll your eyes, a comeback on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already there, pressing into you suddenly, stretching your pussy in one hard, unrelenting thrust that punches the breath right out of your lungs. a cry rips from you, loud and hoarse, and you brace yourself against the mattress, fingers twisting into the sheets as your whole body shakes.

"that shut you up?” he breathes, hands digging into your hips as he sets a bruising pace. you can’t even catch your breath, every thrust leaving you reeling, gasping for air. tears prick at your eyes, spilling over as he hits that spot, so precise it’s maddening.

“fuck—s-so deep—” you choke out, incoherent as you press your cheek to the sheets, gripping the fabric so hard your knuckles ache. his fingers dig into the meat of your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust, his balls slapping your clit making you convulse with everythrust. 

“thought you wanted this, yeah?” he taunts, leaning down. “thought you liked it rough. what, too much for you now?”

“n-no—” you manage, though the word comes out in a broken sob, your voice betraying you. he’s unrelenting, snapping his hips forward with every word, and you can feel yourself falling apart, the way he’s not holding anything back. it’s dizzying and yet you can’t help but crave it, want more, need more.

“thought you could handle it, acting all cocky,” he sneers, giving your ass a hard smack that makes you jolt, a fresh tide of tears spilling down your cheeks.“crying for it. pathetic.”

you let out a choked, breathless sob, the humiliation only heightening the need simmering inside you. “p-please…” you whimper, unable to do anything but plead as he keeps driving into you.

“oh, now you’re begging?” he laughs. “all that attitude, all that talk, and now you’re nothing but a crying mess on my bed.”

another broken cry slips out of you, and he chuckles. his hands trail down your spine, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you, steadying you in the haze.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he coos. “all desperate… should’ve known you’d like it this way.”

you can’t respond, can’t do anything but let out a helpless, broken cry, body arching, straining against him as you feel your orgasm approaching. and even then, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, keeping you there.

“you thought you could come in here all high and mighty that night.. now look where that got you.”

“shut up,” you manage to gasp as he snaps his hips harder, the sound echoing in the small space. “you’re—” another thrust cuts you off, drawing another whimper from your throat.

“i’m what? too rough for you? too much for that little mouth of yours? you’ve got no problem talking back when you’re not getting fucked, huh?”

“i said shut up!” you cry out, though your voice is shaky, betraying you. “you’re just—oh my god—”

“just what?” 

“i hate you,” you whimper, even as your body betrays you, arching into him, chasing that sweet friction.

he can hear the contradiction.

“sure you do,” he laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin.

the moment you squeeze him harder, makes him wince, his cock feels so sensitive, after that last mind-blowing orgasm, and he can’t help but throw his head back, his breath hitching in his throat as he fights to control himself.

you’re lost in your own world, eyes shut tight as you cling to him, and he uses that to his advantage. with a smirk curling on his lips, he pulls out slowly, relishing the way your body protests against the emptiness.

“n-no, jihoon!” you whine, instinctively reaching for him. you grab his hand from behind your back, intertwining your fingers with his, a silent plea not to tease you anymore. 

“c’mon, jihoon, just stop teasing me already.” you push your ass against his hips, a cheeky slap echoing in the room. 

he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on, when your existence is enough to make his blood run hot. as he lowers himself behind you, he can’t help but watch the way your pussy clenchesaround nothing, how your curves seem to invite him in. 

he leans in, letting his breath ghost over your skin before he dives in, his tongue swirling around your dripping pussy. you cry all cute on his sheets, like his tongue was a sweet and massaging reward after he destroyed your cunt with his thick lenght.

he lets your clit rest under his tongue as he dives the tip of the wet, pinky muscle, between your folds. just to flick the tongue down again and take the throbbing nerve inside his mouth, making you sob.

his tongue dances across your folds, the slickness of your cum coating him. his mouth is warm and inviting, eager haven as he drinks you in. he alternates between languid licks that tease your puffy lips and insistent flicks that make you roll your eyes. 

your hands tangle in his hair from behind, pulling him closer as you urge him on, the silky strands slipping through your fingers. his fingers tighten around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he plunges his tongue deeper, swirling it around inside you.

your body is a symphony of slickness, the remnants of your cum coating his chin and the skin around his mouth. he dives back in, tongue swirling around your entrance, licking up every drop of your honey before turning his attention back to your clit.

“i’m so close, jihoon,” you whimper. “that's it!”

he responds by sucking your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers push into you, the pressure of them stretching you just right. 

as if on cue, you feel that big hot bubble in your lower belly snap, you cry out, each pulse of the orgasm making you tighter around his fingers. 

jihoon couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he watched you get up from his bed, your movements quiet and subdued after your intense orgasm. the post-orgasm glow faded too quickly.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he pulled you back down onto the bed. you landed softly, your eyes wide and innocent as you frowned at him.

“i’m… leaving?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he fought against the frustration. “you’re only saying that because of how i made you leave the last time, aren’t you?”

you shifted slightly, looking away as if the truth was too difficult to face. “maybe..” you admitted softly, and that single word made his heart sink.

“i’m sorry about that,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “i miss those tutoring classes, you know? i didn't mean to push you away like that. it’s just… i think—”

“you think?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “you told me not to come after you unless i wanted a good fuck. not very delicate.”

“that was a mistake,” he insisted, as he searched your eyes. “i didn’t think it would end up like this. i thought we were just messing around.” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “but i want more than that. i like having you around.”

you looked at him, your expression softening just a little. “so, what? you want to tutor me again? pretend like we didn’t just…” you trailed off.

“no,” he replied firmly. “i want to be honest with you. i want you to want me, not just as a way to fill some need… just like i want you.” he paused, gathering his thoughts.

“so you’re just going to keep me here, like this?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“if you’ll let me,” he replied. “just stay.”

“you really think it’s that easy? just because we had one good round?”

“it’s not just about the sex,” he said, getting nearer. “i want to explore more than that, but only if you’re willing.”

“and if i’m not?” you asked.

“then i guess i’ll have to work a little harder to change your mind,” he teased lightly.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your lips. “good luck with that, jihoon. i’m not that easy.”

“i never thought you were,” he smirked, leaning closer. “but i’m willing to put in the effort. so, what’s it gonna be?”

you bit your lip, “maybe i’ll stick around for a little while longer,” you replied, leaning back into the bed with a teasing smile.

“good choice.”

[rindreamery]

in another life, i would be yours.

types of tragic love tropes with blue lock men.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku

itoshi rin as your unrequited love.

who could never find the right time. rin was always one missed call away, one minute too late, and always one step behind his brother. too many bouquets would lay discarded in the trash, and too many times the phrase, “i love you,” would lay at the tip of his tongue— words he would never dare to say to you. and he wonders, during his sleepless nights, if he’d be the one to hold your heart if he had acted quicker.

but it’s an awfully selfish thought, and the guilt that eats at him feels worse than the love he feels for you. he feels filthy for wanting someone who could never be his. so he forfeits for the first time in his life. he doesn’t mind hurting if it means that his brother is happy.

itoshi sae as your first love.

who was good to you, but nothing more. sae was a classic and naive, first love of yours; the type of love that you kept coming back to because you couldn’t let go, because you didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like. your perception was an idealized and skewed version of him, one that didn’t actually exist. he was sweeter in your mind— remembered your favorite things, carried your bags, and walked you home— but he could never find the balance between soccer and you. though he wasn’t perfect, you loved him and that was all that mattered to you.

so you foolishly gave your heart to him, only to receive it back in pieces. it’s been years, but there are times when you still think of him. a part of you believes that he never truly gave all of your heart back to you— a part of you will always be with him, and that’s a pain you’ll live with for the rest of your life.

isagi yoichi as your forbidden love.

who could never be yours. yoichi’s presence was one you long grew to be familiar with, and one you often found comfort in. he understood you, in a way that you felt that no one else truly could, and he saw you for who you were. not a model, not just a pretty face— but you, in your entirety. your love was limited to longing and lingering gazes shared across the room, tender touches that would ghost over your hands as you pass by one another, and warm embraces shared behind closed doors. he was that someone you wanted to call, “home.”

but the reality is, “home” would never be that warm for you. the fantasy you had built in your mind, where only you and him exists, is shattered by the glimmering ring that reminds you of its presence. a reminder of the love that would never exist between you two.

nagi seishiro as your "what-if" love.

who will always remain as a, “what if?” nagi is someone who plagues your thoughts, more than he should. you think of him when you go out on dates, you think of him when you watch rom coms, you think of him when you see other couples on the street. you fantasize about him in every romantic aspect of your life, almost as if to compensate for the fact that he isn’t yours. and you’ve come to terms that he never will be.

so you’re left with questions of what could've been. what if you gave him your confession, what if you hadn’t set him up with your friend, what if he could love you the way you want to be loved? — questions that will remain unanswered.

mikage reo as your compelled love.

who you know is good for you. reo is as good as it gets, he’s the ideal man; he takes you out on romantic dates, dedicates himself wholeheartedly to you, and never fails to remind you just how much you mean to him. he’s constant in his love for you— what more could you ask for? but your heart is selfish, and it seems that even perfect isn’t enough for you. your love for him is filled with forced smiles and a reminder that you could never find someone like him. so you stay.

you do think you loved him at one point. but it’s hard to ignore your want for a love that would spark a burning want in you. his love is as good as it can get, and yet you rarely find yourself yearning for it. your heart has faltered, unlike his.

oliver aiku as your ludic love.

who thrives from the push-and-pull. oliver was someone that you knew you were supposed to stay away from; he was the type of person who was just out of reach, never meant to be had, and the type of person who always pulls away whenever something starts to feel too serious. but he gets away with it because he’s frustratingly charming. and you’re frustratingly stubborn, never wanting to fully give in to his advances. in his eyes, your love is a challenge he has yet to conquer. for some reason, that’s exactly what makes your heart race.

as long as his game continues, you’re in it. you know you should crave for something steady, a love that doesn’t keep you on your toes. but you don’t want it— not when this kind of love keeps pulling you deeper, even when you know it’s more fleeting than it is real.

note. i could write a happier version... i could also just keep it at this 🤭

© rindreamery, 2024

[itsa-me-lily]

I am still tired, but brain is less mush after some lunch. (Can you guess what I had)

Here is other Military Program Spouse (mobile is fighting me to add the link)

It helps to assume here that unless stated otherwise Simon is wearing a medical mask around reader. She’s just like whatever floats your boat my dude

Content warning;

Mention of food, medical devices, scars, cellulite

“Simon whatever your middle name is Riley you better not be looking at my legs.”

Maybe his mum had a point, that women developed eyes in the back of their head. He wasn’t deliberately looking at your legs, but he wasn’t not not looking either. For some reason unbeknownst to him, you had decided that you had to make the biggest batch of soup known to man. Sure the seasons were changing, summer slowly letting go for fall, but it wasn’t as if a chilly wind was rattling at the windows threatening to steal whatever heat existed. It was still relatively balmy, warm enough to have the windows open and enjoy the breeze. Warm enough that having the stove going made the kitchen borderline stuffy, encouraging you to cook in just a loose tank top and shorts that hit mid thigh.

Simon wasn’t a prude, he wasn’t scandalized at seeing the curve of your thighs, or grossed out by the cellulite. Everyone had fucking skin and however you wanted to dress in the comfort of your home you were welcomed to it. But he had eyes and well he was curious. His own body was covered in scars and tattoos that told a myriad of stories. So he looked to see what yours had to say.

Picking at the chicken you had left on the counter he counted the spots that your insulin pods left behind like stars, noticed how you missed a small strip of hair when you were shaving, even the mole that you had on the back of one ankle; they all came together to make up parts of a story about his wife that he was just starting to get.

He was so lost in thought, mechanically putting piece after piece of poached bird into his mouth, barely paying attention to anything besides the action of seeming busy, that he didn’t notice when you turned around, the exasperation in your voice finally catching his attention.

“Seriously? What did I just say?”

Simon wasn’t someone who startled, didn’t jump or hunch his shoulders to his ears. He had spent far to much time sharpening himself as to cut anyone who tried to catch him unaware. He just wasn’t prepared for you to admonish him like that, hands on your hips and looking for him to answer your question.

“What? You said not to look at your legs…I wasn’t lookin’ at them”

Not a lie, but not quite the truth.

“Yeah instead you’re eating your way through them!”

He blinked at you slowly once and then twice, following your gaze down to the plate of chicken leg quarters he was indeed making his way through. At least one looked like it had been pounced on by scavengers.

“You said no lookin’, nothing about no tasting.”

That was most certainly a twitch to your eye. That probably should have been concerning, but honestly Simon was secure enough in his height and size that if you tried to suffocate him he could throw you off. He was a good head taller than you, honestly how much damage could you do? When you pointed your wooden spoon threateningly at his chest it didn’t do much besides remind him of a little old grandma who would wield the same utensil as a weapon.

“You sir, are an asshole. Now go run to a shop and get me one of the pre cooked chickens.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve eaten half my damn chicken and like hell is my sancocho going to suffer for it.”

“Your what now?”

Yes Simon Riley knew he was being as ass. Yes he also thought that there was a realm of possibility that your upset face and clear murderous intentions were slightly endearing. But only slightly.

“My god damn soup. I swear to god if you fuck this up for me I will find a way to make you suffer the consequences.”

“Alright alright, no need to have a bird over some-heh, bird.”

He didn’t stay to see the double middle fingers you aimed for his back, he didn’t need to. He was pretty sure you were also cursing his name and maker. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind him that your colorful vocabulary was loudly shared with the world. It made him chuckle as he picked up his pace.

Heaven help anyone who got between a woman and her soup.

Edit

I am very passionate about my soup

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part (4) - Died In Your Arms

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 5.3k

-Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight, it must've been some kind of kiss, I should've walked away-

This was a good life, hot chocolate, paper taped to the desk as you drew your third sketch of the building you had in mind. Away from all the worries and for a moment free from any obligations.

“How’s it going?” your mom came up to you and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“Mom, you shouldn’t-“ she didn’t wince, her back didn’t hurt, yeah, it would end soon, and you desperately wanted it to continue. Wanted things to get better, wanted her to be healthy again.

Your phone had other ideas, as the alarm rang and the sound of it startled you awake. Curse your need to constantly change your alarm ringtone, otherwise you’d get used to it and sleep right through it. This new one was ridiculously awful, like someone constantly ringing the bell, but it got the job done. “Am I ever going to wake up well-rested again?” you wondered, feeling like you barely slept a wink. You just couldn’t get used to this house.

Well, considering the tales about it, maybe that wasn’t that strange.

Or it was just the reasonable explanation.

As it was, last night your exhausted body just collapsed onto the bed and you fell asleep, and then got woken up by the chill of the night, because of course you were too tired to cover yourself. What followed was you spending way too long trying to warm up. Winter River indeed, it really was cold. Why couldn’t this be some pleasant warm place, somewhere you could still go around wearing short sleeves instead of already needing several layers of clothing.

The only thing worse than the cold was the Chihuahua that was also in the house. “Why the fuck would I let her be on my mind first thing in the morning?” you slapped your forehead, now even more annoyed. Of all the people you could have thought of at the start your day, it had to be her.

Annoyed, you threw the covers off and immediately came to regret it as the cold air made you shiver. On second thought you should probably stay in bed a bit longer, so you went back under the covers into the warm escape from the chilling cold. You swiftly unlocked your phone and figured you might as well check up on your mom and Alex. You sent each of them a message asking how they were and if everything was fine and put your phone away. It was still too early to call them and if you had to be awake it didn't mean you had to wake them up too.

~X~

Halfway through the day and a lot of packing later, you sat down at the table exhausted with the hot cup of tea in front of you. You really needed that as the warmth of the tea seemed to seep into your very soul. Actually, you also needed a blanket around your shoulders and the nice warm fire accompanied by perhaps movie. It's been a while since you've watched ‘Kill, Baby, Kill’ and you were really in the mood for it after these past few days.

Seeing your favorite movie again would probably make your life a tiny bit better.

No, instead of that you had to deal with someone rather happy getting inside the house with an obvious bounce to their steps. You raised your head, confused and for a moment even terrified that someone actually broke in and just didn't care about making noises. And then that someone walked through the door into the dining room and you would have been a lot happier if it was a burglar.

No. Instead it was the fucking Chihuahua what a wide, frighteningly bright, and happy grin on her face and the world was going to end any moment now. You were fairly sure, and not at all being too dramatic, that Astrid Deetz, also known as Chihuahua, being this obviously happy was one of the eleven signs of the apocalypse.

“Oh, of course you're here. Well, it doesn't matter, not even you can ruin my mood,” she just  walked past you, still happy, and not throwing insults at you. She didn’t do anything! Absolutely nothing! Not even glaring at you and you could not remember the last time you were this frightened.

You scrambled to your feet and rushed outside. “Delia!” you cried out hoping the woman would have some kind of help for you maybe some medicine for hallucinations or a plausible explanation or anything really as long as it helped. You desperately needed someone to convince you that just made what happened up in your head!

It was all in your head. There was no other explanation, which made it even more concerning because Astrid Deetz being in your head and part of your hallucinations was not a good sign for you. Frankly, at this point you had no idea which was worse, Astrid being happy or you thinking about the damn Chihuahua to the point of hallucinating seeing her happy.

~X~

“Damn it Delia, why couldn’t you just get this delivered to the damn house?!” you hissed, a lot like the creatures inside the box you were currently carrying. You knew you had fear of heights before, but apparently you also had a fear of snakes. Which was made a lot worse by the sounds the snakes were making and you were praying that the people Delia bought the snakes from didn't scam her and actually defanged them.

Sure, in theory you were safe. The box was sealed, and safe, but your brain still came up with frightening scenarios. As safe as the box probably was you were still frightened that they would somehow find their way out and bite you and you did not want to die due to snake bites.

‘How many times am I going to risk my life in one single week?’ you wondered, and you really shouldn't have because you had a few more times before the end of this trip.

You finally reached the house and couldn’t have been happier to see it as you rushed up the stairs and set the box on the table for Delia to do whatever she intended to do with the snakes. You really hoped she wouldn't make you go with her because at that point you might actually think staying with Rory would be more pleasant. And just to be safe you immediately turned to Delia when she walked into the room. “I'm done with the snakes, I did my part the rest is up to you,” you urgently informed her before she could get more great ideas.

Delia just laughed. “They are defanged, don't worry,” apparently they were, you weren’t about to check.

You slumped slightly, doing your best puppy eyes to get her to let you stay out of this. “I am still not comfortable around snakes, so please don’t ask me to help you with them,” well at least she didn't look like she would push you to join her as she smiled and patted you on the shoulder.

“Come on, I'm not that cruel,” she smiled at you and then shook her head in amusement at the relief showing on your face. “I thought it would be a good experience is for you to watch, but it’s fine if you don’t. Oh and Y/N, you can rest tonight, you don't even have to go to the wedding,” she was telling you one good news after the other. “We have a few more things to do tomorrow morning and then you can go back home,” Delia surprise you but maybe you should have expected it. She had her moments of kindness and you've been on the receiving end plenty of times, despite all the less pleasant, more dangerous and difficult moments you had with her.

“Thanks Delia, I really appreciate it,” you told her as Astrid joined the two of you.

“Snakes?” Astrid looked at the content of the box, surprised by what she saw and for once you couldn't blame her. Personally, you didn't quite get why Delia got them herself but she wanted them and she got them. Something about Ancient Egypt and Pharaohs from what you understood.

“Actually asps,” Delia corrected her, and you had to admit she actually sounded excited about them.

“Why? Are they a wedding gift for Rory?” Astrid asked, hopeful that the answer would be yes.

“Now that would’ve made it worth carrying them,” you knew that wasn’t their purpose but  no one could force you to stop happily imagining Rory freaking out over the snakes.

For the first time since you've known her, Astrid actually didn't have a rude remark or an insult for you, and actually just rolled her eyes with a smile which was almost freaky but not exactly an unwelcome change.

“Too late they've be defanged, guaranteed harmless! And they're for me.” Delia shattered your dreams well, yours was never even allowed to begin because you knew from the start what she wanted to do with them. Still for a moment you could hope that she would at least use them as a prank. It’s not like they were one se only! She could use them for more than one thing. After all, she already got them, why not just use them on the bastard as a very funny prank. It would not change anything about the snakes, and they could still be used for the ritual thing she had in mind.

Well, you were left with only your dreams.

You left the two of them to check if there was anything left unpacked, you were just about to head back upstairs when Lydia rushed down and you turned around, not sure how to react to the frantic woman.

“You got your wish, we're leaving! Pack up your things, I'm driving you back to school,” Lydia seemed absolutely frantic, like she just saw a ghost, which, well, she was supposed to be able to see them. You watched from the stairs as she went by you and toward the front door

“Wait! What happened” Astrid called after her.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Lydia denied answering Astrid’s question.  That actually made sense, especially if it had something to do with ghosts, which this house apparently had at one point. So going by their relationship and the issues Astrid had with her mother you guessed it was something paranormal in question.

Delia, however, did not make that connection. “Oh you're calling off the wedding?” she went after Lydia outside and just for a moment you and Astrid exchanged looks do you just shrugged finally realizing that you couldn't even begin to try and have a normal conversation with her. That's how used you were to just fights and banter and insults and everything that came along with this hatred between you.

Eventually you just pointed at yourself then point upstairs and then point at her and outside. The message being clear, you would, rather regrettably, check up on Rory while she would go and check up on her mother.

To that Astrid, just as unsure of how to interact with you like a normal human being, just went and gave you a thumbs up and you both went your separate ways, one up the stairs to the attic and the other outside to talk to her mother.

~X~

Lydia was stuck in the office, just contemplating everything about her and Astrid’s relationship.

Apparently, her daughter was not gay. In fact, she had a date with a boy. Her first date was with a boy, not with the girl as she expected it would be. Did Lydia really mess up that much that she wasn't even capable of seeing how things actually were? Her daughter, who she believed was gay and actually had a crush on you and was just unable to properly act up on those feelings, threw her a curveball and was going on a date on Halloween night with a boy she met 2 days ago.

How did she miss the signs?

Her concerns were now even bigger because, unlike you, this boy was a complete unknown for Lydia. She didn't know his full name, she didn't know his parents, granted she didn't know your parents either but that was beside the point, she didn't know how he spent his time, what his interests were. She didn't know anyone who knew him, and she was now overthinking it and panicking and was getting even more nervous and afraid for her own daughter because this was a mess, and she was disappointed in herself as a mother for mistaking her daughter’s sexuality.

Maybe Astrid was just bisexual. Maybe. Maybe Lydia just got so deep into preparing for a girlfriend that she forgot that there were other options, all equally daunting for her as the mother of a child that would soon start, that actually just stated dating, and find her own love and heartbreak and everything Lydia herself went through all those decades ago.

Also did her daughter actually just tell her that she crashed through the fence and that's how she met the guy? Like it was just something people did for fun? How did that even happen?

Lydia began breathing deeply, huffing and taking very loud, very deep breaths. She could not go down that train of thought.

~X~

He liked her.

Jeremy liked her. Astrid knew that much, she could see signs that he wanted to kiss her, that he really didn't want to spend any time handing out candies to the kids and instead actually wanted to spend time with her.

And she, at least logically speaking, wasn't opposed to the idea. At least it would prove to her that some feelings she may or may not have were, in fact, not real and just her heart playing with her brain so she would kiss him to prove her heart wrong.

Astrid let him approach her, she felt his hands on her, hugging her and she hugged him back, and he held her like he hasn’t been touched in years. Like he was desperate to feel someone’s touch, someone’s kind and positive touch. Astrid could almost feel his breath on her lips and then she just couldn't do it, because there was an infuriating Barnacle plaguing her thoughts at that very moment.

She pulled away, separating from him even though she knew how it looked. “Sorry I just I think we are rushing too fast into this,” she apologized and he seemed understanding at first. At least from the looks of it, he just turned to the window and looked rejected “I'm not saying I'm opposed to kissing you eventually, but we just met two days ago,” she tried to cheer him up but then he turned to face her.

“No, you’re right, I'm- I'm sorry I just got excited because you can see me and for over 23 years no one saw me and I just thought we had something,” she must have heard him wrong but then she looked down and saw it.

He was floating and that's when she realized all the stories her mother told were actually true and she was actually seeing a ghost these past few days

~X~

You were in the living room, with everyone aside from Astrid and Rory, plus Jane, just lazing around on the sofa and texting Alex. You weren’t in a costume, you had no intention of dressing up for the Halloween.

The truth was, you kind of hated Halloween. Well hate might be a strong word, mostly reserved for Astrid and maybe another thing or two. No the actual word you were looking for regarding Halloween was more like indifference brought upon by that's one time you got dressed as a pumpkin and got teased for by your classmates.

It wasn't fun. It was actually horrific and ever since then you just didn't bother celebrating Halloween. So, what if Astrid was currently on her ridiculous date? It had nothing to do with your current mood. Even if you did hated the guy more than you hated her for some reason. You should have felt sorry for him, after all he was the one who had to deal with being on a date with the Chihuahua.

So, no, you did not care about Astrid being on a date with some random dude.

You just realized you’d be all alone. Delia would be at the cemetery doing whatever she seemed to want to do with the snakes and Lydia would be preparing for her wedding and Rory would be giving out the candy. And you were fine with that. You would just be hanging around on the couch in the living room waiting for Delia to sign all the papers and then you could just go ahead and leave, just start packing what little things you brought here and get ready to go back home. Luckily Delia promised she would arrange a car to come pick you up.

“Where's Rory?” Lydia asked out of blue, almost as if she was asking out of obligation, because she should know where he was and not because she actually had to know where he was. Especially since she had Chihuahua’s first date to worry about.

“Supermarket swapping out the candy I bought for carrot sticks, because Rory loves to fun suck everything even Halloween,” of course Delia did not miss a single chance point out the kind of person Rory was, because Lydia apparently couldn’t see him for who he really was. Even if it didn’t change anything you figured she did feel the need to, in her own way, warn her stepdaughter about him because as far as you knew telling Lydia that Rory was not who he was presenting himself as wasn't working. “Gotta run, see you at the church,” she turned back to Lydia and with a hopeful look added. “Unless you're calling off the wedding.”

“No Delia,” Lydia sighed and just noticed Delia was leaving, that was how focused on Astrid she was. “Wait, why are you going to the cemetery?” Lydia asked. It just crossed your mind that she in her panic earlier today did not see the snakes Delia bought.

“To commune with my dear husband spirit,” was all Delia needed to say. She quickly waved at you and was on her way leaving you alone with Lydia and Jane and from the looks of it, Jane was going to leave soon so that would just leave you and Lydia alone in the house for a while. At least until she would go and get Astrid. Oh, and until Rory came back.

Still, it could be fun. You haven't had the chance to be on your own wait the Lydia Deetz and you actually were curious about her. And it had nothing to do with maybe not wanting to be alone while a certain Chihuahua was on a date with a guy she met two days ago, while she spent so damn long hating you. Yeah, that had nothing to do with it.

Nothing at all!

You did not care where that stupid Chihuahua was or how quickly she fell in love like dumb ass.

“The closest we ever got to Disney was when Astrid dressed as Cinderella’s dead mom,” you absolutely did not filter out what Jane mentioned about her daughter and scouts or whatever group her daughter was in and you absolutely did not think Astrid’s costume sounded exactly like her.

Jane said something something fruit salad mortgage something something non triggering and then asked the question that was annoying the hell out of you, that is, she asked where Astrid was.

Lydia had this soft, yet somber smile on her face. “On a date,” she said, like a parent learning to accept their child was growing up. “Her first. I think I'm more nervous than she is. The boy lives over on Jefferson,” Lydia really did sound nervous when she said that, and you guessed between their rocky relationship and all the things that happened Astrid’s first date at this moment wasn’t something Lydia was entirely prepared for.

Something something perfect sales records something something on the market for years something something once more you're pretty much tuning out the words of the woman the Deetz family hired to sell their house. And you were doing good, tuning her out, that is until she said three words: the murder house and you immediately sat up and stopped texting Alex. A sinking feeling inside of your guts was almost telling you to pay attention because you just had a bad feeling about what was going to they said next.

“Murder house? Which house?” Lydia asked now frantic and you sort of pieced together that's maybe the house show left Astrid at wasn't that far off from looking like a murder house. Because if the house looked normal and if Lydia you got to see the parents or that boy she would not be looking this afraid right now.

“125,” James said and just from the look of Lydia's face you knew that was the house Astrid was in and so you jumped to your feet and rushed to get the car keys.

“Fucking hell Chihuahua, what did you get yourself into?” just as you've got the keys you saw Lydia rushing out. “I'm going with you!” you quickly told her and followed after her into the car. The woman was clearly in shock but all she cared about was just getting to Astrid, nothing else mattered.

You did not dare to tell her you would get there in time. You had no idea how all of this worked, sure you believed in ghosts and you've been seeing glimpses of strange things throughout your life. You still had no idea how any of that actually functioned. You had no idea if they could harm Astrid.

If the guy she was with was bad news then she probably was in danger and especially if Lydia, the most competent person to judge if her daughter was in danger from ghosts was also panicking. “He killed his parents 23 years ago!” okay, Astrid was definitely in danger. “If I just didn’t let her into that house, if I just went in with her! What kind of mother am I if something happens to her-“ Lydia was mostly talking to herself.

“Hey, wait, wait, don't go there you couldn't know!” You tried to get her to calm down. “You're the expert but you couldn't know! Just focus on saving her so you can berate yourself later,” you needed her focused because if she wasn't, you had no hopes of getting Astrid back in time. And you really, as much as you didn't like Astrid, did not want her dead or in danger.

~X~

The moment the car began slowing down in front of the house you just ran out, without even waiting for it to stop and ran up the stairs ignoring the for sale sign in front of the house. You ended up bursting through the doors so hard the handle might have gotten a bit damaged because the doors were old.

You stumbled when you entered the house, you felt sick for a moment when you saw the man. But you did not see him clearly, it was like there was a mist around him.

"Astrid!" Lydia yelled and it snapped you out of your confusion. That man was a ghost, mist meant ghost, at least at this stage of your ability to see ghosts. So, you rushed right through the woman going down the stairs.

"Wait! Deetz!" you yelled as loud as you could as you ran up the stairs two steps at a time. You saw the light and broke through the door, but Astrid just walked through something.

"What the? Barnacle?" your eyes met and you reached out to her but the ghost guy grabbed her forearm and pulled her along and the portal closed before you could reach out and grab her hand.

"Astrid!" Lydia cried out, but it was too late as well.

If only she reached out to you. For the first time since you met her you cursed yourself for not being at least civil with her. "Damn it!" you slammed your fist on the old table, right next to some thick book. "What do we do now?"

Lydia grabbed the book on the table, your outburst probably caught her attention. "Come on, I have a crazy idea," you saw uncertainty in her eyes, fear that maybe not even what she had in mind would be enough, but she had to hope. You both rushed down the stairs, every second mattered and you couldn't waste time on just talking. "Can you drive?" she asked, clearly intending to go through the book.

"Of course," you nodded and ran to the car, starting the engine once more as Lydia sat down next to you.

~X~

You had no time to waste, as you drove around the house and parked the car right in front of the entrance to the house, not even caring that you would somewhat block the path for the kids. They could avoid the car, it didn't matter, you just had to be quick and find a way to rescue Astrid, so up to the stairs you drove.

“Y/N?! Where’s the rush? You're nearly drove into the house!” Rory exclaimed as he was on top of the stairs preparing to hand out the candy to the kids, but you just ran past him not really wasting a moment to stop and chat. You didn’t even turn the engine off, just parked the car.

Lydia gave him some excuse or whatever as you both rushed upstairs. She already told you where to go so you just grabbed the crowbar on the way upstairs and started removing the boards Delia and Lydia put there just an hour or so ago. By the time Lydia came up the stairs as well you were almost done and you both pulled the last wooden board out of the way and went into the attic and from that point on you could only watch her as she found the solution.

The first thing that caught your eye was the small scale model of Winter River, done in amazing detail, and if things were any different you would have spent hours studying it.

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” she took a deep breath. “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!” you had no idea what was going on as she repeated that word? Name? Whatever it was three times.

And then the freakiest thing happened the mist slash smoke surrounding the paranormal vanished from your vision as the zombie-looking guy with green hair and striped suits and rather unhealthy-looking skin emerged from the Winter River model. “The juice is loose,” he said and vanished, only to appear right next to Lydia.

“I need you to tell me what this means,” she skipped the formalities and just showed him the pages of the book she found in that room where Astrid was.

“Let's have a look,” he pulled out a magnifying glass. “Long story short, your daughter is screwed,” well, fuck! “She decided to trade lives with a boy, he gets to come back while she's stuck on the other side, permanently. One way ticket to the Soul Train,” this guy, Beetlejuice, explained and you were just absolutely confused about what was going on. Afterlife actually existed, and people could come back.

More importantly… “She did what?! Why would she do that? Who does that?” you demanded. Astrid was smart! What did that ghost offer her to make her accept giving up her life? Or did he just outright trick her? “Shit, we need to get her back,” you turned away from Lydia and Beetlejuice and ran your hand through your hair, not even sure you would make it in time.

“The Soul Train?” Lydia asked for further explanations.

“That's right! The last stop, The Great Beyond,” he said and you just leaned back against the wall. Was there even anything you could do at this point? Astrid was on the other and you were over here in the living world. But then again Beetlejuice was from that other world. Was that why Lydia called him? Because he could somehow move the two of you into the world of the dead?

Wait, were you about to go into the world of the dead for Astrid? Not knowing the risks, or the consequences, or if it would be dangerous? You knew nothing about it, it was a complete unknown that you weren’t even sure existed five minutes ago!

Somehow you knew the answer was yes. You would take all those risks to take her back, because you plain and simple couldn’t live with yourself if you just let her die.

“Can we go in after her?” You asked as you once more turned toward Lydia and Beetlejuice.

“Quid pro quo, I want something in return,” while he replied to you he was looking at Lydia, as if he would only accept something from her.

Maybe those were the rules? Since she summoned him?

“Of course you do. What do you want?” Lydia asked ready to give him anything he asked for as long as it would save her daughter.

“Well I've got this ex-wife-“ Beetlejuice began and you've spent enough time with Delia and you knew a tangent when you saw one.

“Get to the point!” You exclaimed. Each second could be vital in keeping Astrid alive, and you did not want to waste it on his tangents.

“You want me to marry you,” Lydia knew what he wanted, and you just turned to look at her because what the fuck was that about? How would that even work? All of this was too much and the only reason you were keeping your sanity was because you had a goal in mind.

You weren’t sure you’d be keeping your sanity for much longer as so you watched this Beetlejuice act like getting married was Lydia's idea, like she just proposed to him because she wanted that. And then he made her sign some contract because apparently, he needed that in writing. You were in the most absurd situation possible and you half- expected to just wake up and see that everything was fine. Like this was all just a fever dream and you would wake up go to the work at the library you'd see Astrid there being annoying and being a Chihuahua and getting on your nerves and not on the way to swap lives with a ghost and die.

“What's the plan on getting in?” Lydia had enough of his bullshit as well and just demanded to know how you all would get in.  

Beetlejuice just vanished again and appeared in front of the wall, crouching and drawing a bomb with the fuse. He then just went and lit his thumb on fire. This was all absolutely ridiculous because the drawn fuse just lit on fire and the bomb exploded and instead of looking outside of the house you were looking into some office.

“Deetz, you're gonna be the death of me,” you said, ready to just go through.

“Trust me kid I know the feeling,” Beetlejuice said.

“I did not ask,” fuck it, you were going in, and you were not getting out without Astrid.

Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser

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@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest @jaxon-nathaniel-drake

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

[muletia]

[tfp] yandere!soundwave x human!reader

summary: you were meant to be just a bargaining chip for the decepticons, someone who could be easily discarded. but soundwave has other plans for you. (consider this snippet as a base for further stories.)

cw: obsessed!soundwave, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome?? not really but reader does have a soft spot for him, reader's pov, soundwave is fucking terrifying, this is just an excuse to write about soundwave interacting with you lmao

word count: 750

The automatic doors hissed open, announcing the arrival of the owner of these small quarters. You lifted your head from the tablet, wanting to confirm that your routine remained unbroken — that you would survive one more day. Seeing the familiar silhouette, you exhaled in relief. The same titan as always had returned. You’d live to see tomorrow.

“Hi,” you greeted, well aware you’d never receive a verbal response. The titan was fiercely silent.

He nodded, and that was the end of your “conversation.”

Your interactions hadn’t always been like this. They weren’t always this warm. Going from trembling in fear at just the sight of him to saying “good morning” of your own free will had taken some time. Not that you had much choice in terms of social interactions, which the reptilian part of your brain still craved. You’d only seen other members of his species once, on the day of your abduction. Accepting that this was now your life, indefinitely, hadn’t been easy, but after many months, you’d adjusted. Humans were made to adapt to new conditions, and you were no exception. The will to live had won.

You returned to reading an e-book on your tablet (a reward for good behavior) but quickly paused, noticing the robot had stopped at the desk, right by the small corner arranged just for you. You looked up—he seemed to be looking straight at you. Even with the screen covering his face, you could feel his optics on you.

He was enormous, terrifying, and the lack of human-like facial features, which you’d noticed on others, only heightened the fear factor. He looked like a xenomorph. But your alien was real. And he wanted something from you.

“What’s up?” you asked, uncertainly.

He moved his hand, slowly, calculatedly, and pointed at the tablet as if he genuinely cared about what you were doing, as if he cared about your existence. By now, you understood perfectly what he meant, having gone through this countless times when he returned to you after a few, sometimes several, hours of absence. This was your little ritual, a remnant of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal.

“I didn’t manage to read much,” you sighed. He tilted his head slightly. It was almost cute. Almost. “I just can’t concentrate today. I’m having kind of a rough day.”

It would certainly be better if you were spending your time at home, with family and friends, rather than as the pet of your captor, but of course, you couldn’t say that to him. Not when you’d worked so hard for the privilege of a tablet and your own little human corner.

“But it’s nothing big,” you continued, fearing he’d decide it was his fault. “Humans sometimes have days like this. Tomorrow should be better.”

He shook his head.

Did he not believe you? That was a terrifying thought, one with unpleasant consequences, and it sparked a flash of fear. Fortunately, that spark faded as quickly as it had appeared when an image popped up on his face — a silly meme of a cat holding a rose with hearts around it. You stared at the absurd sight for a moment, trying— and failing —to understand where, why, or how. Finally, you gave up. Laughter escaped you for the first time in a very, very long time. You knew you shouldn’t be laughing; this creature should never be a source of comfort, shouldn’t make you feel better by doing the bare minimum of showing you a silly meme made by some grandma.

But, unfortunately, he succeeded. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so miserable, so pathetic and dull. You felt human.

“Okay, that was actually funny.”

The cat was replaced by a smiling face. His strange, flat hand moved toward you, but slowly, so as not to scare you. A slender finger stroked your head, gently, with silent affection, then slid down to your chin. It lingered there. The gesture was almost romantic as if performed by a lover rather than a giant, silent robot. The image on his face flickered, showing another picture—a heart.

There were so many things you didn’t know about this being. You didn’t know his motives or intentions, the reasons for his actions. You didn’t know what he was or what else he was capable of. But this intention was unmistakable.

Beneath his tenderness, beneath every gentle gesture, laid feelings for you. And that was more terrifying than unfamiliarity — because now you knew you’d never escape this place. You'd never escape him.

this is what he showed you btw:

[dakota1435]

Moonlight -- Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

word count: 3.3k

tags: 18+ NSFW!!, mention of blood, biting, penetration, mention of alcohol

previous chapters on Ao3 / This blog !

Chapter 6

After your…newfound experience, Sylus left the house to attend to more business matters. Always so busy, yet didn’t seem bothered by it. But, like the past couple of weeks has been, you’ve been left alone with your thoughts. Now, something different was blossoming in you. Your mind was constantly preoccupied with the memory of Sylus’ sweet, poisonous words. His bite wasn’t anything like the first time. It burned like fire, the heat searing across your body. It gave you goosebumps, recalling the feeling. But the pleasure and pain were both equal with each other. You found yourself wanting to feel it again, craving it like a strong wine. 

           Most importantly, you found yourself confused. The old you would have rather died than to submit at the hands of someone violent and arrogant. He had everything at his fingers, and you easily fell into all of it. Just like he knew you would. Your life changed completely overnight, yet it only took a matter of time to accept this new one. How long would he keep you around? Would he tire from you, bored of your mortal existence? If so, would he set you back out into the world? You felt dizzy just thinking about it. These negative thoughts weren’t good for you, but it was hard to think about anything else. It made the feeding so much easier, and felt heavenly at that, but your dumb mortal emotions reacted strongly. You didn’t know what to take from it. You were food for Sylus, your only purpose to serve him what he craves. Maybe he didn’t care about you like he acted. Maybe he didn’t want you, other than for one reason you were purchased for. 

           Truthfully, it made you depressed. A hollow feeling started to form in your chest. For the rest of the night, you didn’t leave his room. You dismissed off the twins who brought you dinner, having trouble finding the motivation or energy to exist. Maybe it was some deeper, inner insecurity you never realized you had. Time moves slow, too slow when all you did was lay there. Your thoughts were swimming, questions firing left and right in your brain. It felt like hours have passed, your body aching from your stillness. You expected Sylus to be there any second but he wasn’t there.

          “Miss? You feeling okay?" said one of the twins on the other side of the door. You couldn’t tell which one spoke, their voices muffled by the physical barrier. You just stare, unsure what to say. They must know something was off. 

          “I’m fine,” you responded plainly. The twins were too keen on their senses to not know something was up. 

          “Boss said you must eat or drink something. What can we bring you?” You internally groan with their persistence. They told Sylus you refused dinner. You truly weren’t hungry though, so you said the first consumable item to pop in your head. 

          “Okay, can I have some wine?” You asked. There’s a pause behind the door and part of you wonders if you’ll be refused for the first time. 

          “Of course. We’ll send some up.” They don’t give you time to respond as you hear their footsteps walk away from the door. Wine sounded pretty good anyways, and maybe it’ll help ease the weight on your mind. Within mere minutes, a bottle of unopened wine appears in an ice bucket outside your door. It almost felt like room service, much to your amusement. 

            You’ll just take some personal time for yourself, relaxing. Self care. Although, unfortunately, you know you have all the time in the world for that. Considering Sylus’ never ending work, you had too much alone time. You shake off the anxious thoughts creeping back into your head before opening the wine bottle. It was a high quality red wine and you knew this was a good decision. 

            The taste warmed your throat the same way Sylus’ lips did against yours. You were thinking about him too much, and tonight you didn’t want that. You drink more, a little sloppy, but in your desolate state you could care less. You scoffed out loud, wondering when Sylus’ touch began to stick to you. Maybe you’ll take another bath, hoping to feel like a new blank state. The lack of substance in your stomach made you tipsy quick, but that was kinda the plan anyways. You ease off of the massive bed and head towards the open bathroom. The king-sized clawfoot bathtub was still in its original place as you last used it, just hours ago. With one hand preoccupied with a wine glass, the other fumbles with a knob, causing hot, steamy water to pour out. You lean against the marble counter, continuing to drink. You still thought of Sylus, and part of it scared you you were becoming too attached to him. Naturally, you didn’t have anything but him. He wanted that though, so what if you were attached? 

         Seeing the water was filled just enough, you decided to slip off your clothes and go inside the tub. As you pull your shirt over, your elbow ends up knocking against the wine glass. It fell over, shattering in the bathroom sink. The abrupt sound made you spin around in surprise, only to find the remnants of glass. Well, at least it’s all in one spot, you thought. You sigh, carefully taking the bigger shards out first. Before you stick your hand in again, something cold and hard stops your movement. You knew it was Sylus’ hand without looking at him. 

            “Always about to prick your finger when I’m around. Careful, sweetie, we wouldn’t want that.” You look at him in the mirror before you. You’d think he wouldn’t be visible, like the stories, but your mind was burning the image of his body powering over you. The way his eyes took in every detail of you and the way his hand easily wrapped around your delicate hand. This new pet name, sweetie, felt almost belittling. But there was something ravishing in his tone when he said it. 

           “Sorry…” You looked away from the reflection. You move out of his grasp with ease. 

           “You…are drinking?” Sylus cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t sound mad, but there was a genuine curiosity in his question. “Luke said you refused dinner. Are you feeling alright?” He said, sounding more flat. 

           You realized your chest and arms were casually exposed to him right now. You look at the steaming water, then back to Sylus. “I just wanted to relax today.” You hold your arm, feeling sheepish. He stares at you for a moment, deciding if you were truthful or not. 

           He closes the gap between you two. “Feeling modest aren’t you? A little late for that now, don’t you think kitten?” His body presses up against yours as he grabs the arm that was across your torso. He brings up your hand and places his lips on your knuckles. You flush instantly, his touch reminding you of the great pleasure he’s capable of. “Don’t hide yourself from me. I own you, I own everything about you.” His lips now graze against your wrist, his fangs hovering. You tense, preparing for anything. This doesn’t go unnoticed. He drops your hand back down. 

“Tell me what is wrong,” he demanded suddenly. His patience was thin tonight and you understood that you couldn’t hide your feelings, no matter how hard you tried.

“What will happen to me when you’re done with me?” The words proved difficult to speak, but once you said it you felt a little lighter. Sylus’ expression doesn’t change but you have to know the answer. You couldn’t spend the rest of your lonely time here just waiting in anxious anticipation.

“Done with you?” He repeats, sounding confused. “Whatever do you mean?” You could tell he knew exactly what you meant, and it was amusing for him to see you try and open up. It was frustrating, but there was no other way you would be able to get this done.

“You know! Done with me. Bored with me, a human. You know exactly what I mean,” you said, your tongue feeling sharp. Sylus stares at you, his expression blank and unreadable. It’s like those crimson eyes of his could see right through you. He positions himself in front of you, causing you to lean against the marble counter. There was barely any room left to breathe. 

“Bored of you?” He spoke softer now as the distance between you was nonexistent. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear gently before tracing his touch down your jaw. His hand holds your jaw in place, causing you to be unable to look away from him. “Don’t be so foolish. I told you before, you’re mine forever. It is going to be very entertaining.” He leans his head down, his breath barely caressing your ear. “You gave yourself to me. You’re in this for the long run, sweetie. I know you, now. I feel the way you tense up, the way your heartbeat quickens. How warm you get when I touch you like this.” He slides his hand away from your jaw, tracing down past your chest and just barely above your torso. His featherlight touch felt like pure electricity as it made its way down to your lower body. He grazes his long fingers against your inner thigh, causing you to hitch your breathing. 

Oh, how he was right. How he was right about everything. Even now, as he easily proved you wrong, you were turned on from his voice and his touch. Intoxicating as always. He presses a quick kiss against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With one fluid motion, he places both hands around your legs and hoists you up upon the bathroom counter. It was cool to the touch as your legs tried to adjust comfortably on the marble. Sylus now stood, his physical presence hovering over you as you sat. Opened, and exposed, for him. He radiated desire and you could tell it took effort to control himself. He was ready to devour you whole. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a low, husky tone. You wondered if he truly would, if you said no. Clearly, at this moment, that’s not what you wanted. It  made you blush when he asked permission. He could take you any time, any moment. You were at the mercy of his hands after all. You shake your head.

“No…” You murmured. Your body felt like fire as you sat against the cool marble. Sylus was pleased with your answer, continuing to roam his hands over you. He somehow managed to slip your bottoms off with ease, causing you to be mostly bare in front of him. He traces his fingers over the underwear you still wore, teasing. Testing you. You knew he could hear your heart hammer against your chest. He could feel the heat pooling in your most sensitive spot. 

“You are the most intoxicating, my dear.” He plants another kiss on your neck, onto your jaw, before placing his lips on yours. You melt into his kiss without hesitation. His praise, whether for you or for your blood, turned you on more. You wanted more– you wanted him. His heavy fingers touch softly over your underwear, making you twitch with anticipation. Without warning, he tears off your last remaining fabric as if it was nothing.

“Wh–!” 

“They were in the way,” he growled. He touches you directly now, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he continues. You hear him snicker as he feels you are already wet with desire. “Such a good, obedient pet,” he whispered, teasing your entrance. He eases a finger into you as his thumb rubs your clit. You lean forward, grabbing Sylus as if he was the only thing anchoring you in this world. You feel him place a hand behind your back, holding you against him. He kisses the top of your head as he begins to move his hand, slowly adding another finger. This all happened last night, but it felt like it was the first time all over again. You moan and whimper into his shoulder, feeling yourself unravel just from his hand. 

“Mmf— Oh…God.” You can’t stop the moans that slip past your lips. You wondered if he would bite again so soon. 

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded. His hand never stopped. He looks down at your body against him, clutching onto his sleeves. 

“More,” you blurted. Little did you know what you were truly asking for. It might be too much, too overstimulating, but you were on a high of pleasure. You couldn’t stop here, now. Sylus smirks, his brows lifting at your confidence. He pulls his two fingers away from you, causing a whine of disapproval. He takes a step back, taking a good look at you. A wet mess, sitting on top of his counter. Unexpectedly, he picks you up from where you sat. With one arm, you are perched up against his body as if you were weightless. He strolls out of the bathroom and plops you down on his massive bed. Laying down, sprawled out for him, you realize this was going to be more than last night. A lot more. You swallow, trying to relax as you watch him unbutton his shirt. He doesn’t break eye contact, his red eyes burning into you, as he removes more clothes. 

Seeing his erection was all you needed to know. You can’t help but widen your eyes at the sheer size of it. There was no way all of that was going to fit. He notices your reaction and smirks with satisfaction.

“Worried?” He teased. If just his two fingers made you feel full, you couldn’t imagine anything more than that. 

“I—I’m not,” you stammered. You could feel yourself throb with pleasure and anticipation for what was about to come. You’ve only had a couple of boyfriends before this mess, and you nothing would compare in size against Sylus. He leans closer, fully hovering over you. He kisses you more, this time it’s hungry. He grabs you tighter as his tongue pries into your mouth. You return with the same energy, not wanting to falter back by any means necessary. Something dripped on your stomach, only for you to realize it was his precum. He wanted you badly and you wondered how he managed to have the patience left in him. 

“Relax,” he purred into your ear. You could feel your stomach tightened. This was going to be the point of no return. A very small part of you felt anxious. After all day stewing in your thoughts about Sylus, and your future, you laid here submissive for him. His touch and his praise was all you needed to melt away any thoughts. You felt like a blank canvas, waiting for him to paint you out. You suddenly feel something prodding at your entrance. You inhale, knowing it was the tip of his cock. By God, that alone, felt enough. “You can take it,” he reassured. Although, you truly didn’t know if you could. He teases you a bit more before cautiously pushing in. You grasp onto him tightly again, unable to hold anything else. He kisses the side of your face, you assumed this was for comfort. His brows were furrowed as his breathing became quicker. He was really trying to hold back.

“ ‘s not gonna fit,” you whined. You couldn’t tell precisely, but he was halfway in. You were already so full. Your clit throbbed with need, swollen with pleasure. He looked at you and your eyes, glazed over with lust. 

“Yes, it will,” he grunts, pushing in a bit further. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, before Sylus kisses them. You take a deep breath, trying to relax yourself again. He applies pressure on your clit again, the touch along with the pressure inside you makes you roll with pleasure. “You’re doing so well,” he praised. He exhales as he carefully slides out of you right before pushing back in. You felt everything, each minor movement causing you to moan lightly. It’ll be a miracle if you can walk after this. 

When Sylus realizes you can take all of him, he begins to move his hips more. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the image of his naked body over you burned into your mind. It’s like he was sculpted by the Gods, every part of him. He was…beautiful. It made you feel satisfied and delighted seeing him vulnerable like this. Your mind was drunk on pleasure, but in that moment you didn’t care if you were used for blood. He wanted you. Craved not just your blood, but your body too. 

His pace begins to pick up, each thrust sending you over the edge. You can’t help but moan for him, moan his name. You could tell he enjoyed every sound that came from you. He groaned back, never releasing the hold he had on you. You could feel your orgasm building with each movement, a sweet release you anticipated this whole time. 

“Ah! Mm…Sylus, please,” you begged, unsure what you were begging for exactly.You could feel yourself getting close, all this overstimulation making you feel drunk. He grabs your jaw, his pace never slowing down. 

“Speak,” he ordered. His breathing was uneven as his brows were still knitted together. His thrusts become heavier now, each one making you forget all the words in your mind. Your eyes roll back, taking every single bit of pleasure you could get. 

“Please,” you lowered your hand, lightly touching yourself. You were getting desperate now. “Mm…Ah, ‘m so close.” You were breathless. So full of him. You didn’t know what exactly you needed to come, but you were determined to find it. You didn’t care if he fed again, or whatever he wanted to do. None of it mattered anymore. His touch changed you completely. As your core tightened around him, you were bound to unravel against him any second. Sylus felt the shift in you. He grunted, grinding himself in you.

“So tight…” He hummed. “Come for me, darling.” He didn’t have to ask twice. He was practically slamming into you, all of him. You couldn’t speak anymore, all words lost to your vocal moans. If he kept this up, you were going to see stars. You grab him harder, your nails digging into him as an attempt to hold on. You were on the edge and it drove you insane. With the little strength you had left, you forcefully pulled Sylus down closer to you. It threw him off guard for a second, before realizing what you wanted. You fully exposed the side of your neck, beckoning him. You wanted him to bite you, because there was no greater pleasure than that. He doesn’t say a word before his teeth plunge into your soft skin. The bite was harsher this time, causing you to scream out. You reach your climax instantly, the release was like nothing you ever experienced before. Your mouth hangs open, unable to even make a sound as Sylus’ hips begin to slow against you. His mouth is still over your neck, his wet tongue lapping over the hot blood that oozes from the wound. 

As the rush begins to leave your body, you feel extremely lightheaded. Black spots form in the corner of your vision. This isn’t good, you thought to yourself. You were too weak, too exhausted to say anything. Let alone push Sylus off of you. You attempt to make a noise, the black spots never fading. You feel Sylus lift himself up, the room spinning in your vision. You hear Sylus say something, but it’s muffled as you slowly lose consciousness. Without control, you feel your eyes roll back into your head. 

Your body becomes numb, before you are dragged back into the darkness.

[tiredfox64]

Hey! Love your work! Can you write something about Bi Han having a s/o that’s half bunny? Go all out!!

Winter Fluff

Yip notes: I would just like to remind everyone that what happened in Khaos Reigns didn’t happen and the only person who Bi-Han should be with in you. Why? Bc I said so

Pairing: Bi-Han x Bunny! Gn reader

Warnings‼️: None, also new blinkie to say it’s safe wow :3

Padded feet, furry legs, long ears, cotton tail, is that a bunny? No, it’s just you! Just a bunny person hopping around the Lin Kuei Temple like you own the place. No one’s gonna stop you! Why? Because who would be stupid enough to stop the grandmaster’s partner from having fun? Except maybe Sektor, definitely Sektor.

Who would’ve thought Bi-Han loved bunnies. Not his clan, not his brothers, not even he knew he liked bunnies. But the moment he laid eyes on you something inside his mind and heart said he had to have you. Don’t you remember the first time you two met?

 ══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It’s so hard to grow things in Arctika. The ground is hard and the wind is brutal. However, some vegetation can actually grow in such harsh conditions. Things such as…carrots…turnips…leafy greens. All things a bunny would desire. Luckily for you, the Lin Kuei was growing all of that.

What? You think Bi-Han’s just gonna run his clan off of just meats? Come on, he’s an idiot when it comes to himself, but he grows a brain cell when it comes to his clan. Or not. It’s not your job to figure out if he’s doing his clan justice or not. Your only job is to munch on carrots and look cute. We haven’t gotten to that second part yet so back it up a little.

The Lin Kuei garden was your favorite place to hop over to. It’s not like anyone was keeping a close eye on it. They were too occupied with training. It didn’t hurt anybody if you stole a carrot or two. With your thick and strong nails, you could easily tear up the hard Earth and retrieve a carrot. Of course, you left a hole there, so they could plant even more vegetables for you. Look how considerate you are.

You were a little menace for nearly two months before you were caught. What a scary day that was. One second you were digging through rocks and dirt for a radish and the next thing you hear is some machinery behind you. You looked behind to see a suit of red armor with two guns coming out of the back, ready to shoot at you. Oof, tough luck, Sektor was the one to catch you.

You could’ve easily booked it out of there with your bunny legs, but you had no clue how quickly those guns would take you out. So you just stayed there staring blankly at her as she yelled at you about something like “state your purpose” or whatever. You couldn’t hear over the fear that was consuming you. You flattened yourself on the ground, your ears flopped back against your head. You kept your eyes on those guns until someone finally came to your rescue. Oh thank goodness it was Bi-Han.

…

No one looks at Bi-Han and says thank goodness, but he was your knight in dark blue armor at that moment.

“What do you think you are doing?” He scolded Sektor, the sound of his voice making your ears perk up.

Her face plates opened to show her face before she spoke, “I am taking care of this intruder.” She pointed towards you, but Bi-Han could only see your ears poking over the vegetation.

“The bunny? You are wasting your time on killing a bunny?!” He nearly shouted at her for such a ridiculous thing.

“What?! This is not just some bunny, look!” She dragged Bi-Han to where she was standing so he could get a better view of you.

You were still flat on the ground with your eyes looking up at him. He was quiet as he stared down at you. His face seemed blank but under the surface he was quite intrigued. A bunny person, who would’ve thought such a being existed.

Since Bi-Han was in front of Sektor you thought you might actually have a chance at escape. She wouldn’t risk Bi-Han getting hurt because she tried to shoot you. She could easily make a mistake. You lifted yourself a little, your tail down and your ears forward. Bi-Han made the mistake of taking a step towards you which triggered your fight or flight and fuck trying to box that man. You ain’t winnin. You bolted out of there, your feet sort of flicking back as you used the nature around you to disguise yourself. That flick was like flipping them off, a fuck you for trying to kill me. And look at you, you still manage to steal two carrots, an extra fuck you to them.

That was the start of it all. Your cute little tail and your quick speed captured the grandmaster’s attention. Bi-Han wanted to believe he was interested in you cause of the fact that you could potentially be a good addition to his clan. Bunnies might be prey but they will still fight to survive. In reality, your pleading eyes and pointy ears warmed his frozen heart a little. Having a bunny around wouldn’t be so bad.

So he waited with great patience, seeing if you were brave enough to return. Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for you, the Earth was not kind enough to give you easy access to food. You had to return to the Lin Kuei for a chance at survival while also risking your death. But on arrival at the garden you were surprised to see a door to the temple open. The warm light inside tempted you, promising you warmth and safety. Then you saw Bi-Han come into view. The sight of him almost made you hop out of there but when you saw what was in his hand you hesitated.

He is tempting you, sweetie, he is tempting you with some carrots and turnips. Got some parsley in there too, oh what a treat.

He was waving them in front of you like that was really gonna work…oh gosh it worked. You slowly but carefully crept towards him. It would be much easier to take it from him than to dig it up yourself.

“…are you going to kill me?” You asked him.

“No, that is an idiotic question.”

“I’m just making sure,” you stayed quiet for a second, “Are you gonna eat me?”

“I do not need to be nice to you. Are you coming in or not?” His tone was aggressive even though he was trying his hardest to lure you in. No one said he was good at picking up bunny people.

Fine, fine, you’re desperate to survive out here. It wouldn’t hurt you to hop into the temple and eat out of Bi-Han’s hands. You’ll be in and out just like that. A handsome man will feed you, who’s gonna deny that.

Oh, oh you’re getting close. Oh the carrots are right in front of your nose. You can smell it, your ears are twitching in excitement. One more step and…yeah you’re domesticated. GOT YA

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Obviously, you never left the Lin Kuei. You never left Bi-Han. And why would you when that man basically provides you with everything. He treats you like the delicate bunny you are.

Originally, he tried to involve you as another member of his clan. You truly had potential especially when you back-kicked Sektor after she snuck up on you the day after you went inside. Those powerful thumpers sent her flying back twenty feet. Yeah, her suit absorbed the hit, but it was embarrassing. But even with that potential, you really didn’t want to do all that. You would rather flop down on Bi-Han’s bed.

Oh yeah, you were quick to be in his bed…NOT LIKE THAT.

You didn’t wait to see if there was another room for you to stay in and make it your own. Nope, you found the largest room in the temple (which was his) and claimed it as your own. He tried pushing you off, but you were dead weight because once you flop you won’t get back up. So, he was forced to have you as a snuggle buddy, oh the horror. What would Bi-Han do with this soft being that won’t leave his bed? He has no choice but to cuddle them every night with his face between their fluffy ears.

With a situation like that it was no wonder you guys became close. He found your presence pleasing and you found his ability to handle your antics charming. You’re a very fussy bunny, but what bunny person isn’t? I mean just look at you giving him attitude right now cause he wouldn’t allow you to show him your love. That’s probably because your love language involves biting and licking.

Thump, Thump

“Enough,” He responded dully with his arms crossed.

Thump, Thump, Thump

“We are in the middle of practice.” He warned you as he continued watching his clansmen train.

THUMP!!

Your padded feet slammed down on the wooden floor, sounding like thunder crashing down. One more hit and you’d break the floor. You stopped but that didn’t mean you would stop trying to get Bi-Han’s attention. You started running circles around him, your padded feet making light thumping sounds all around him. Your cotton tail wagged to show you were displeased with him and how he ignored you. But he clearly got the hint with your ears smacking his face when you rounded back to his front. He had to grab you by the ears to stop you before asking,

“What? What is it that you want? If you are looking for food you can either wait or you can get it from the dining area—”

“I just want to show you my love…and get your attention!” You flopped your body onto him and he was forced to wrap his arms around your waist.

Everyone in the room gave a similar look to Bi-Han. It was a look that said “just let them do what they want already we really don’t care” and they truly don’t because everybody knows you two are together. You won, he gave in.

“Alright you have my attention, it is yours. Do what you want but no more interrupting.”

“Yes!” You leaped high into the air, radiating pure joy like you just won the lottery.

Bi-Han held you in his arms as he rested his head on top of yours. You used that as an opportunity to kiss him along his jawline before nibbling on him a little. He let out groans and occasionally gave a quiet “ow” but endured it all. This is your love, he’ll take it. Plus, he’s not gonna make himself look weak because he can’t take a few nibbles. You’re soothing the stinging with little love licks. Don’t tell anybody this but he secretly…not so secretly loves it.

But the best part about situations like this when you’re all over Bi-Han and he gives you attention is Sektor’s reactions. You can always see out of the corner of your eyes the anger brewing in her with every lick and kiss you give him. And what do you do every time? You stick the tip of your tongue out like a clueless bunny, give a devious smirk, and bite Bi-Han again. She won’t do a damn thing because no one will put a hand on Bi-Han’s bunny. He makes sure of that.

She just has to suffer with the fact that a bunny person shares Bi-Han’s bed but doesn’t share Bi-Han. Ain’t that right, Bi-Han?

“That’s enough.”

Thump!

“Fine, but you can only lick and kiss me. You have bitten me enough.”

Yap notes: Look guys, it’s you 👇

I don't think this is my best tbh. I might've been unfocused a lot but that's what this semester is doing to me. I really wanna get back into writing fanfics but my professors have drained me. Also to Fishii if you read this I'm a liar I did get distracted while writing this but it was for funny reasons. Trust, trust. Okay now I have to lock in and do my hw. I hope yall like the blinkie btw XD. Adiós!

[ferg0s]

hi,

Could I request a scenario where karasu gets a pink lock partner in a spandex suit? 😔

You already know he’s an annoying little shit about it. He likes to tease, get the low blow and bask in the glory of it afterwards. He likes knowing he can get in the other persons head, catch them off guard. He prefers to tear someone’s skills down, but he doesn’t shy away from physical attributes. After all, game is game.

And the frumpy uniforms was like a sitting duck.

“Oi, Cinderella-“ he smirked as he walked up next to you on the field. Water bottle in hand. “Fairy god mother hasn’t shown up yet?”

You roll your eyes and catch the bottle he threw your way, trying to ignore his comments as you gulped the water down. The stupid uniforms they had you in made you sweat like crazy, the thick material didn’t help either. And most importantly, they were ugly. Plain and simple, they were ugly. Frumpy, grey and old fashioned. They looked more like prison uniforms than soccer ones.

“I guess the clock struck midnight,” he mused as he wedged himself infront of you. Steeling the ball and giving you a quick glance, the gentle shove causing you to lose balance and stumble backwards. Cinderella; always in tattered clothes and covered in dirt. You hated it. And he knew you hated it, so he did his best to rub salt on the wound. “Missing a shoe?” He would chuckle as he stole the ball. “I think the ball is a only for pretty girls,” “I guess the rats were busy,”

Karasu learned pretty quickly that you weren’t one to fuck around on the field, you had insane spatial awareness, enough to rival the top guys at blue lock. Which made you hyper aware of how close he would be whenever you two were playing a 1 on 1. You blamed yourself for thinking that he would be a decent partner, figuring ego matched him up with you because you had similar traits - but you were dead wrong. It was like ego had thrown you in your own personalized level of hell.

Karasu was taller than you, and a bit more agile. By a fraction of a second if you wanted to get technical, but he was like a rat, using every little crevice to squeeze his way inside the game. Inside your head. The first time it happened you were stunned, soccer usually wasn’t a big contact sport - there being penalties for shoving or pushing. But he towed the like between accidental touch and deliberate shove. The shoves got under your skin. . Given his height compared to you, instead of hitting your chest it would hit you straight on the collar bone. The pain would linger on for hours after, sometimes making it hard for you to move your arms or neck. But technically, it wasn’t a foul. And you hated that. Technically. You grew up playing soccer by the books - very cut and clean, orthodox even. That’s what made you good, your moves were too flawless to counter. But that was also the problem, because even the purest of glass can be broken by the tiniest of stone.

Your goal slowly began to turn from being the best striker, to now finding a way to get your lick back. And just when all hope was lost..

“Good morning, diamonds in the rough,” egos voice called out in the girls dorms through the multiple speakers. “After a needlessly long wait, you can finally ditch those rags. Please go to the locker rooms and take the bag assigned to you-“

When you entered the field after putting on the official uniform, you had already prepared for the snarky comment that would be thrown your way. Probably something along the lines of; fairy god mother finally pulled through? You placed your bottle down and sat down to tie your cleats, your eyes darting when you heard a whistle. “I guess fairy god mothers do exist,” he chuckled as he walked up to you. Bingo! “Thought she’d get rid of the evil step mother too,” you quip back as you turn your attention back to the shoes. He chuckled, liking that you had started to bite back. “More like she’s found your price charming-“ “Funny, I remember the dog turning into the coachman, not the prince.” You had never been one to engage to trash talk, but god did it feel good to get the last word in with him.

The small 1 on 1 match began, despite the fact you two were supposed to work together, it seemed like the two of you were more focused on trying to score on eachother. With the total score being 0-0 for both of you, making you near the bottom of the teams. He wanted to establish some sort of dominance while you wanted to kick his teeth in for thinking that. Both of you fighting tooth and nail for the first goal, and to prevent the other from scoring.

“So Cindy,” he smirked as he wedged himself infornt of you. He was going to do it, you had been playing next to him long enough to know his moves. The god forsaken collarbone shove. Out of all his moves, you couldn’t find a counter to this one. It was your only weak spot, and he knew it. The difference in height making it impossible for you to dodge it, if you tried to duck you would be too slow and risk injuring your head. Injury wasn’t an option for you. If you went too low it would…

In that moment time seemed to stand still. You were going about this all wrong. You were trying to play chess with a man who was playing checkers with you all along. You had to get on his level to win at this own game, get down and dirty. Maybe the nickname he gave you would make sense in a way. You saw it coming, the shove, aimed directly at your collarbone.

He got in position, his arm moving towards you. He knew that in a second he’d feel your collarbone against his arm, his hand going to cup your shoulder for a second before he pushed off you and got a 3 second frame of confusion out of you. It was like muscle memory for him. In the time it took him to blink the whole ordeal would be over, but as soon as his eyes closed he prepared himself to feel your shoulder… your soft, squishy…

Wait.

His eyes darted open and he looked at you, the smirk on your face appearing as his left. His eyes followed his hand, seeing his hand over your boob. You had moved up instead of ducking his shove, catching him off guard. As a faint blush appeared on his face from the feeling of your literal boob in his hand, you used that to your advantage. He was still reeling from the feeling when you went and shot straight into the net.

“Aw cmon-“ you laugh as you approach him. “You’re acting like you’ve never touched a tit before-“ you tease, feeling the power you had over him in the moment. “Of course I have!” He replied, after defensively. “Okay Pinocchio-“ you scoff, walking to the side to get a drink.

He soon realized what you meant by that.

______

I admit, season 2 animation isn’t as bad as people made it seem to be

[mushynka]

Okay. This is my first fic ever so please read this 🫶

This story is intended for mature audiences (18+). Please note that English is not my first language, so there might be some language errors or awkward phrasing in the text sometimes. Feel free to correct me in the comments. I am still learning english so pls. try not to make too much fun out of me. Additionally, this story may not strictly follow the events as depicted in Marvel films or comics and contains creative deviations. I kindly ask that you do not copy or redistribute my work without permission. Yes. I know it's cringe lmao. Enjoy anyway!

Title: "Building a Future"

Words: "3000" (idk exactly)

Characters: Logan Howlett (Origins) x Fem. reader

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the cabin’s rustic interior. You sat by the fire, the soft light from the flames dancing across the room, your legs tucked underneath you. The storm outside was fierce—rain pelted the windows, and the wind howled through the trees surrounding the cabin. It was the kind of night that invited quiet moments, the kind where the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you.

Logan, or Wolverine as most people called him, sat opposite you, sharpening one of his knives with a focused expression. He had removed his shirt hours ago, the heat from the fire mixing with the thick layers of tension in his muscles. You couldn’t help but admire the way the flickering light highlighted the intricate scars that lined his chest and arms—reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought, both external and internal.

He glanced up from his work, catching you staring. His lips twitched in a half-smile, a familiar teasing look in his dark eyes.

"What?" he grumbled, though there was no real irritation in his voice. "You don’t need to be that fascinated by my scars. I’m not exactly a masterpiece."

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking toward him. "Maybe not, but I find them... telling," you said, sitting down beside him. "They show your story. Your history."

Logan sighed, leaning back against the armrest of the chair, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours. "It’s a history I’d rather forget sometimes."

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His arms, though tough and weathered, still felt reassuring, like home. Logan’s past had always been a complicated subject between you two, and you knew it wasn’t something he opened up about easily. But you didn’t mind. You were patient. You understood that not everything needed to be spoken for it to be real.

The silence between you stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet where two people could simply exist together, where being with someone was enough, even if the world outside seemed chaotic and uncertain.

"You ever think about... the future?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shifting as if he were preparing for something difficult. "The future," he muttered, staring into the fire. "Not much use in thinking about it. It always seems out of reach."

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Logan had lived a life of endless turmoil, and thinking about a future—about stability, about peace—was a luxury he’d never had. The idea of planning for something long-term seemed almost laughable to him. But you could sense that, deep down, there was a part of him that longed for it.

"I think about it," you admitted, turning your head to meet his eyes. "I think about us... a future where we don’t have to hide, where we don’t have to fight every day."

Logan’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. "You mean, like... kids? Family?" he asked, his voice hesitant, as though the word was foreign to him.

You smiled gently, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. I don’t know. It’s just a thought. But... I want a family. Maybe not now, but eventually. I want us to have something real."

The idea hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise, delicate and fragile. Logan shifted uncomfortably, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

"You know my... situation," he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. "I’m not exactly father material."

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "Logan," you whispered, "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. You’ve already proven how much you care."

He turned his hand over to hold yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers in contrast to your softer skin. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if reassuring himself that this moment wasn’t a dream.

"I’m not sure I’m built for that kind of life," Logan admitted, his voice rough but tender. "I’ve never really had the chance to think about it."

You leaned in, your lips brushing the side of his neck as you whispered, "You don’t have to decide now. Just... know that I’d be happy with whatever we build. Together."

For a long moment, Logan said nothing. But you could feel his body relax beside you, a slight exhale escaping his chest. He wasn’t saying yes. He wasn’t saying no. But for once, he wasn’t shutting down the possibility.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drifting in and out of a comfortable sleep, your head on his shoulder, your fingers laced with his. The rain began to slow, the winds calming to a gentle murmur. But the warmth between you two remained, a quiet promise of something that might one day be, even if it was only a distant hope.

[astray-anomaly]

Something about Melody because I really like her :3

Does Sebastian know that he technically has a daughter?

Yeah he’s fully aware of her existence and I plan on having interactions with them. However Melody doesn’t exist in my main AU, this is just a little side thing that I find cute.

The scientists thought it would be best for Melody to have someone similar to her, quite literally the person she was cloned from to help her grow up after she was out of her gestation/incubation tube or whatever to call it- idk. Since even though she wasn’t attracted to a so called mother she still developed like a normal baby would. She was just kept in a tube to be watched so nothing goes wrong. Sebastian wasn’t allowed to visit her at that time until it got closer to the point she would technically be born/gain consciousness. Sebastian was actually the one to name her Melody since she didn’t have an actual name, only being referred to Z-13-2 by the scientists.

Sebastian still had to do MR-P duties so he could only get a few hours with her each day. The scientists thought it would help calm his behavior a bit but honestly it had quite the opposite effect. He was more determined to get out and make sure the scientists don’t do anything to Melody. During the lockdown, Melody was the first he ran to, to make sure she was okay after triggering the lockdown. She would then be hidden somewhere, in the place actually becoming Sebastian’s shop later on. Yet if you were to go in his shop you will not see her, she is hidden in the back, away from the prisoners. Sebastian doesn’t trust them nor does Melody trust humans either, she is very skittish, only trusting her father.

Sebastian is just trying his best to raise her despite the conditions they’re in. True he caused the lockdown but he honestly didn’t have much other of a choice, how was he supposed to get them out of there?

[koyagifs]

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓘𝓷 𝓐 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 「 V 」

⤷ pairing : wooyoung x reader ⤷ au : non idol! | strangers to lovers | slow burn ⤷ genre : fluff | crack | angst ⤷word count: 1.725 words ⤷ summary: yn sees the new world as wooyoung searches for his girlfriend. ⤷ warning: argument!

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ➜ @chanceonceli @soso59love-blog

── .✦ Yn took a tentative step forward, her bare feet feeling the coolness of the concrete beneath her. The city’s sounds were so different from the quiet solitude of Wooyoung's apartment. The rush of passing cars, the faint chatter of people walking by, the buzz of distant conversations all blended together in an unfamiliar symphony. It was overwhelming in a way, but also strangely captivating. She had never been outside like this before, and the experience felt both thrilling and unnerving.

As she stood there, more passersby began to glance at her, their eyes lingering on her peculiar appearance. Some looked away quickly, perhaps uncomfortable with the sight of someone who seemed so out of place, while others were more intrigued, trying to figure out what exactly she was doing on the busy street.

Yn hesitated, unsure of what to do next. It was a strange kind of freedom, standing there, even if she didn’t fully belong. She let the breeze brush against her face, her hair swaying slightly. The streetlights cast a soft glow on her surroundings, adding to the feeling that she didn’t quite fit in this world yet.

She glanced back toward Wooyoung’s apartment, wondering if she should return. Her time outside had been brief, but the temptation to explore further gnawed at her. Her heart beat a little faster, unsure if it was from excitement or from the uncertainty of her own desires.

“Maybe just a little longer,” she whispered, stepping a bit further into the evening air.

Yn felt the wind tug at her hair, pushing it back from her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze fill her senses, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. There was something oddly freeing about being outside, her usual constraints momentarily forgotten. It was as though she had been locked away in a bottle for so long that now, the world outside felt both exhilarating and daunting.

She began walking aimlessly, letting the rhythm of her steps match the pulsing beat of the city around her. The sounds of footsteps, distant voices, and the hum of neon lights blended into a soundtrack of her thoughts. She didn’t have a destination in mind, nor did she need one. She was simply existing in the moment, letting the world unfold around her as she walked.

Her mind wandered back to Wooyoung and his kindness. Despite everything that had happened, he had asked her to stay—had made her feel seen, even when the world seemed so alien.

As she wandered further down the street, the glowing signs of shops and restaurants caught her attention. She paused in front of one, staring at the bustling life inside. People laughing, eating, and talking as though everything was so simple. It felt foreign to her.

"Could I ever fit into this world?" she whispered under her breath, her voice almost drowned out by the noise around her.

But despite the uncertainty, Yn knew one thing for certain—she wanted to stay just a little longer in this world outside her bottle, if only to find out what it felt like to truly belong.

── .✦ Wooyoung's frustration was mounting with each unanswered call and unread text. His thoughts kept racing, the conversation with Minyoung replaying over and over in his head. The more he tried to reach her, the more distant she seemed. His heart clenched, unsure if he had said the wrong thing or if this was something that couldn’t be fixed by a simple apology.

He had left the apartment with the intention of clearing his mind, trying to think of a way to make things right. But now, as he wandered through the streets, the weight of everything—Minyoung, his work, his feelings—was pressing down on him. He had no idea where to go, no real plan, just a deep-seated need to find her and make sure she was okay.

His phone buzzed in his hand, a new message lighting up the screen. For a brief moment, his heart skipped a beat, hoping it was Minyoung reaching out, but it was a text from one of his friends. He let out a frustrated sigh, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

"Where are you, Minyoung?" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

Wooyoung walked through the dimly lit streets, his footsteps echoing against the pavement. His mind was a tangled mess of emotions, each one pulling him in a different direction. He hadn’t meant for things to escalate like this, but it seemed like every attempt to explain himself just pushed Minyoung further away. The thought of losing her, of everything falling apart, weighed on him more than he was willing to admit.

He passed a few familiar landmarks—the corner store, the small park where they had spent afternoons together—but none of it seemed to offer him any comfort. His thoughts kept drifting back to Yn, and how, for just a moment, her presence had felt like a brief escape from the chaos. The warmth she had shown him, the understanding in her eyes—it was something he hadn’t realized he needed until now.

Wooyoung turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.

Yn was standing there, just a few steps ahead, looking out into the street with an unreadable expression. She seemed out of place in the bustle of the city, her simple dress and ethereal presence drawing eyes from passersby.

For a moment, he stood there, unsure if he had imagined her. Walking towards her, Wooyoung felt a surge of panic as he realized who it was.

“Yn?” His voice came out in a hushed breath, a mix of confusion and relief flooding through him.

Wooyoung was just arms reach when he was pulled back, hard. Ready to curse the person out, Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat as he spun around, his pulse quickening in surprise. Minyoung stood there, her grip on his arm firm and unyielding, her expression a mixture of anger and frustration. Her eyes burned with a sharp intensity, one that caught him off guard.

“Minyoung, what the hell?” he started, his voice a little shaky, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. “Why weren't you answering your calls?”

Minyoung's eyes flashed with irritation, her grip tightening on Wooyoung’s arm as she took a step closer, her face a mixture of disbelief and fury. "I’ve been busy, Wooyoung," she snapped, her tone sharp and full of reproach. “You think I’m just supposed to drop everything because you’re calling me, huh?”

Wooyoung’s chest tightened, the frustration bubbling up again. "I’ve been worried, Minyoung. You didn’t pick up any of my calls. What do you expect me to think?”

As Minyoung scoffed, Wooyoung turned back around to see yn gone. Panic filled his chest as he tried to figure out how to find his genie and deal with girlfriend. Wooyoung’s heart raced as he scanned the area around him, his gaze darting between the empty street and the fading figure of Minyoung. The pit in his stomach deepened when he realized Yn was nowhere to be seen. His frustration with the situation boiled over, but it was quickly replaced by a sharp panic. His mind raced as he tried to recall the last time he had seen her. Had she gone back to the bottle? Or had she walked off in the chaos of everything?

"Minyoung can we please take this home and not out here? " he asked.

Minyoung’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. The frustration in Wooyoung’s voice didn’t go unnoticed, and she wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

"Take this home?" she repeated with a scoff, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You think we’re going to have some heartfelt conversation after you’ve been ignoring me all night?

Wooyoung’s jaw clenched. He could feel the weight of Minyoung’s gaze on him, the accusation in her voice stinging, but his mind was elsewhere. All he wanted was to resolve this situation with her as quickly as possible so he could focus on finding Yn.

"Minyoung, please," he urged, his voice softening just enough to show that he wasn’t trying to dismiss her feelings.

Minyoung eyes held fury and hurt as she stared at Wooyoung. " no, we're done. I'm tired of this Wooyoung!

Wooyoung froze, the words striking him like a cold, sharp slap. His breath caught in his throat as he processed what Minyoung had just said. For a moment, everything seemed to still—her words echoing in his ears as his mind tried to catch up.

"Minyoung…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper, struggling to form the words.

Wooyoung stood there, rooted to the spot as Minyoung's footsteps faded into the distance. Each step she took away from him felt like a growing distance between them, and no matter how many times he called out her name, she didn’t look back.

His chest tightened, a lump forming in his throat. There was no denying the weight of what had just happened. Minyoung was gone. The relationship he thought he could salvage had fallen apart right before his eyes.

But even as the sting of her departure dug deep into his heart, another sense of urgency clawed at him. Yn. He had to find her.

His mind raced as he turned back, heading down the street. The empty, cool night air felt suffocating. Each thought swirled in his mind—his failed relationship, the frustration, and his growing need to find Yn. What if she had gone back to the bottle? What if something had happened to her?

His pulse quickened. He didn’t have time to dwell on the end of his relationship right now. He couldn’t lose her too. Yn was different. She had always been there, a quiet, calming presence in his chaotic life. He couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward her. She had been his constant, even if he hadn’t fully realized it until now.

Wooyoung’s steps quickened as he scanned the street, looking for any sign of Yn. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Yn… please be okay.” The words escaped him like a desperate plea, and he kept walking, his thoughts solely focused on finding her.

[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Color My World

Jake Seresin x Reader

Ella Kazansky never thought she would be able to find someone to bring color into her world after her boyfriend Max passed away. But someone she least's expects brings the most vibrant new colors into her world.

This will be a series.

Color My World Chapter 1

Song: “Dancing with your ghost” - Sasha Alex Sloan

I sat in this uncomfortable waiting room chair, stared at that same stain spot on the carpet and looked through those same 3 magazines on the table in the corner for what felt like the thousandth time. I mean I guess if I do the math I’ve sat here in this same spot 30 times in the last 2 years. It’s routine at this point. I walk in the door, Sarah at the front desk welcomes me with a ‘good morning Ms. Kazansky’, I sit in this exact same chair and then I walk through that door in front of me, spill my feelings like they expect me to and then when it all over I go on with my life. Not that I’m doing much living. I think I’m just existing at this point because I honestly don’t know how to live after a loss like this.

Each week is filled with a therapy appointment, a grief support group, work and spending time with the one person who doesn’t look at me with pity or judgment for how I’m handling my life right now. Most of ‘our’ friends have given up on me… well more like I pushed them away because it hurt too much. Natasha Trace is the only one who hasn’t left and I’m honestly grateful.

The door opens and I see my therapist stand there with a smile on her face as she gestures for me to come in. I take my seat in the middle of the couch as she sits across from me grabbing her notebook and pen.

“How are you doing today Ella?”

I turn my head and glance out the window in her office as she says the same line she always does. And I lie like I usually do.

“I’m doing okay”

In reality id like to say ‘I’m feeling fucking horrible’ but everyone knows that wouldn’t go over well.

After talking about my ‘feelings and grief’ for an hour I make my way to my usual spot. Headphones on my head as I walk down the street towards the little coffee shop by the beach where Natasha meets me every Thursday to help me recoup from the therapy.

The slight breeze blows my hair around as I take a sip from my coffee watching everyone on the beach. Everyone smiling, laughing. Living. 

I smile as I watch him walk out towards the water. The muscles on his back moved with each step he took. The breeze blowing my hair around as I just sat there and admired him. God… how did I get so lucky. His blue eyes meet mine as he calls back to me.

“Well you coming?”

I smiled as I didn't waste a second before shedding my jacket and sliding my dress off before running to him in the water. The second I was close enough his arms wrapped around me and lifted me off my feet as a wave crashed around us. The sound of his laugh was muffled by the sounds of the waves. We stood there just holding onto one another. A random kiss placed on top of my head every few seconds.

“It doesn’t get better than this El…”

I smile as i pull my head back from his bare chest as i look up into his blue eyes that i love so much as a smile crosses his face

“I’m madly in love with you, you know that?”

“Trust me i know Max-a-million”

His smile grew before he leaned down and kissed me… 

“Earth to Ella….. How did it go today?”

I snap back from my thoughts as i  scoff slightly as I turn in my seat and look at Natasha

“same as usual. There’s no timeline on progress and healing. Apparently, I’m making progress according to her but I definitely don’t feel like it.”

She looks at me as she rests her arms across the table

“I think you have. At least a little bit. Ella, the grief isn’t going to go away overnight you know”

“I know… I just didn’t think it would still be hurting this badly to miss him almost 2 years later”

“And I wish for you that it didn’t hurt this much, but your entire world got flipped upside down… How are you feeling about it being almost 2 years?”

“I honestly don’t know. It honestly still feels like it was yesterday. My mom keeps trying to get me to move back home”

“She wants you to move back onto base?”

“Yeah. Both her and dad. They seem to think that me leaving my place is the best idea to help move on. I came home last week and I found her there trying to pack up some of his stuff… I flipped shit. Told her to get out. She’s been calling but I won’t pick up”

Natasha looks at me with a shocked expression

“she just went into your place and touched his stuff?”

“Yeah…”

“Have you made any progress on putting any of it away like your therapist recommended?”

I sigh as I look away from her back out to the beach

“I tried… I really did but… I just can’t do it… it makes me feel like I’m trying to get rid of him…”

I open the door to my place and flick on the lights. The sound of Gizmo running to the door fills the silent house. I smile as I lean down and give him a quick pet before dumping my bag by the door. I sit down on the chair. His chair. As I sit there quietly. Everything in this room of his is just where he left it. The jacket tossed on the bench by the door. The empty glass next to the Jameson bottle on the cart by the record player. Everything. Gizmo sits between my legs and lets out a whine.

“I know. I know… I miss him too”

If you stepped into my place you would think he’s still here. Between all of his things, the pictures that litter every available surface like the fridge, the walls, the tables. So many memories scattered around. Memories that make me realize my life is all black and white now. The kitchen where we would dance and sing while making meals together is quiet and lifeless. The breezeway where we would lay on the couch on rainy days with the French doors open just listening to the rain. I haven’t opened those doors since. The laughter that would fill the living room when we would have a game night together. Gone. The boxes of games forgotten in the corner of the room. The only thing that hasn’t changed is music. I will constantly have his favorite records playing. Honestly if I sit there, close my eyes and listen I swear it feels like I can hear his voice singing along. I can still see his smile, hear his laugh as he would dance with me around the house. But the second I open my eyes it’s gone. I’m alone and that nagging feeling in my body… the feeling I can’t describe is there to remind me that he’s gone.

The day Max died was the day all the color was taken from my life… because Max put all the color into my life… and now I’m back to black and white.  

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First chaper and second chapter will be about Ella, Jake will make his appearance in chapter 3!

This is my first time writing a series on tumblr so be patient with me. I am going to create a master list for this series as well.

If you would like to be added to the notification list shoot me a message!

Chapter 2 coming shortly!

[maddiedott]

It Will Come Back

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN! Reader

Warnings: Very rushed ending, Logan through various different movies/timelines, gn! reader, fluff and tad bit of angst, sexual implications but not explicit, alcohol consumption (let me know if i missed anything)

Hi! Hope everyone is having a great day! I've been struggling with some Wolverine hyperfixation and Deadpool Wolverine being released on Disney+ like 2 days ago didn't help much. So, I decided I would finally post this fic thats been in my drafts for like a month now? It's heavily inspired by Hozier's 'It Will Come Back', so please enjoy!

Time was always a fickle thing for someone who could never age, who had lived centuries and watch as it affected everyone you loved and yet hasn’t graced you with the same courtesy, a long stretch that dipped into the horizon and melted against the inevitable void. There were times when you yearned for the ice cold grip of death, the blissful eternal sleep that most try to run away from, to prevent. But that was before you had met him, before he whispered life back into your hollow bones.

It was a fleeting encounter, words exchanged in a fraction of a second. You couldn’t recall how long this cat and mouse game played out, but you eagerly waited for the next moment you would see him, even if just for a glimpse. It started out slow, the long pull and stretch of time that came with his absence.

The first time you had met was in 1932, a time where many longed for the cold, dark Earth to envelop them so they wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. The interaction was brief, a swift knock to the shoulder as you passed down the street. He grumbled an apology, his voice rough and with an accent that didn’t quite stick in your head enough to name. There was a hesitation in his step as his gaze met yours, more of intrigue than anything else. He stopped completely as you called out, brows furrowed in annoyance. He turned towards you, apology leaving his lips. He introduced himself as James Howlett. An odd last name. You gave your name in kind with a smile.

He looked exhausted, although there wasn’t anyone in This Depression that wasn’t. So, despite your better judgment, you offered him a place to stay and some lukewarm meals to hold him over until he could find work. You never were much of a cook, even now you struggle to prepare much of anything, but it’s not without lack of trying.The rundown country home had been your home for a little before the dust bowl and the drought begun since you had moved into it, trying to busy your lonely mind with farm work. You had set the loft in the barn on your sparse and dusty property for him, giving him plenty of blankets and cloth that would make for a functional and maybe comfortable bed. He mentioned a brother who you had seen only briefly every now and again entering the barn before leaving a few minutes later, always snarling. And even though your instinct was shouting at you to question it, you never did.

There was always an objection to the kindness you showed him when you would bring meals, to leave him to the land as that’s all he knew- how he sleeps, to not be kind. But each time he only came back. It was routine until you found a small note etched in charcoal with the words ‘I come back’. And just like that he had vanished as if he had never existed, disappearing and leaving a strange ache in your chest.

You couldn’t tell when the next time we met was as the years turned to decades. People like you had gained a name; ‘mutants’ and they were becoming more and more common around the world. As narcissistic as it sounded, you thought you had been the only one, cursed to roam the Earth for eternity while watching everyone grow old and die around you. You hadn’t expected to run into him, not after 3 decades, and you surely did not expect for him to look just as the day that you last saw him, nor to recognize you.

You sat beside him on the barstool, not speaking until a whisper of your name fell from his lips as if he had figured out the answer to all of the prayers he’d whispered in the dead of the night to an unseen God.. A smile graced your face before you could stop it, turning in the seat to give him your undivided attention.

“You shouldn’t smile at me like that, you know better.” He gruffly spoke.

You didn’t realize how easy it would be to miss someone’s voice until you heard his. It was as if his words were a melody and you had been searching for the right tune all your life. Just the sound of his voice had been enough to cure you of any ailments for the day. You continued to show him the kindness he so desperately wanted to refuse. To offer him a hand and a soul, one that he feels less deserving of. This time was shorter than the last.

A few drinks, some chatting, walking, and a stumbling mess of feverish, open-mouthed kisses as we reached your apartment and found your way to the couch, the floor, and then the bed. He had ruined you, that much you knew from the very first press of his lips against yours, from the whisper of your name in the bar just a few blocks away, or perhaps it was the very first time his shoulder hit yours.

Towards the end of your euphoric highs, you had noticed the extension of bones from between his knuckles as they dug into your mattress and utterly destroying it. It led to a pensive conversation that eased as you revealed your own curse, your lack of morality. He showed off his claws, explaining his own hyper senses and regenerative properties. You admired the bone that extended from the divots between his knuckles, fingers ghosting over the claws. The night morphed into day as you both recounted stories, although you could tell his were vague and lacking details, keeping them for the darker parts of his mind away from the light.

You hadn’t realized him to be an army man before that night, but sure enough he was being shipped out that next day. So the reunion was cut painfully short and you had to wish him farewell from the comfort of your apartment’s sheets, tangled and damp with cold sweat from the previous night.

It was the middle of winter the next time. You moved from place to place as to not raise suspicion on why one of the neighbors never aged, stuck in a younger body than that hasn’t changed in the last few years of where you stayed. You could never forget James, he was always a lingering thought, a distant wish to run into him once again. As the seasons transitioned from to another, that wish slowly fizzled out.

It burned brighter one particular night, when there was a strange howling outside your door. There had been wolves hanging around, but they sounded nothing like this. So, with little fear to your well being, you opened the door.

He looked different, scruffier and wild. There was a metal contraption on his head that wired down to two boxes on either side of hips. The machinery and mechanism was complex as if he were some part of someone’s cruel experiment. There was a snarl sound emanating from his throat, sitting on his haunches. But his state of undress in the dead of winter was not what caught your eye but the sharp metallic ‘shik’ as metal drew from the divots where bone once did. A sharp gasp left your lips as he slowly stood to his full height, eyes locked and unwavering. He sniffed the air like an animal before taking a step forward, his instincts fueling his muddled mind, the movement subconscious.

He had found his way back, but at what cost? What had this poor man endured to become this way? This feral?

As he took a step forward you mirrored in a step backwards, crossing the threshold of your home and he simply followed. His wild eyes darted from corner to corner, sniffing once more and then taking a deep inhale. He visibly eased up, although still had the behavior of a cornered animal. You let him into the warmth of your home, let him wander and orient himself with his surroundings despite your conscious telling you not to.

It took multiple hours of gentle coaxing and many more attempts of snapping from him until you managed to get him to sit and settle down enough to remove the headpiece and electroids from his body, having them fall to the floor with a thud onto the carpeted floor. He just stared, even a whisper of his name had his head cocked to the side like an animal in a state of confusion.

There was dried blood under his nails, hair greasy and filled with mud and- you didn’t think you wanted to know what else it contained. Bathing and feeding him was no easy feat, metal meeting flesh and red decorating the floor; but, you eventually got it done and even had him dressed in sweatpants that were a bit too tight and the cuffs raised to his mid calf. It would have been comical if he wasn’t so out of his wits.

The next few weeks were awkward, each time you tried to leave he would grab your arm and tighten his hold in an attempt to get you to stay, but you needed food and he needed clothes that actually fit him. He still didn’t speak, just low huffs and grunts. When he finally did speak, it was low and broken as if he had forgotten how.

“Lo… gan…”

The words confused you. Why was he saying a stranger’s name?

“Is he the one that did this to you?” You ask softly, swiftly sitting beside him on the couch. You received a shake of his head in return and another mutter of the man’s name.

“I don’t understand.”

He ruffled into his pocket until a small clink of metal emerged and he withdrew dog tags with the name ‘Logan Howlett’ engraved. It was his last name, but the first one made no sense. On the opposite side it read ‘The Wolverine’. Was that his army name? You had heard of getting nicknames when in service but had no real idea about it.

“You’re Logan?” You clarify, eyes moving from the metal within his palm to his own eyes, still wild but tamed for now.

You received a nod from that, signifying you were correct in your assumption. That would make sense why he had never acknowledged me when you had called him James. So, from then on you referred to him as Logan.

You try not to think about the time during which you helped bring him back to a state of humanity, finding out his memories were scattered and he held no recognition in his eyes other than finding the smell of your home, of you, familiar. You cared for him, allowed him a place to stay and took him with you until he suggested a RV bed for an old truck. With the stash of cash you had dwindling, not expecting to care for another person, you hastily agreed. From there you traveled. City to city, province to province, finding cage fighting bars for cash while trying to bring peace to Logan’s mind and retrieve the memories lost or stolen from him.

Finding Rogue was a blessing, even more so when Scott and Ororo had rescued you both. You had been given a home and a lead on Logan’s missing memory and a chance for him to be a part of a team. So, when he was given information on a location that might jog his memory and insisted he would go alone, giving you his dog tags as a promise, you held some worry of course, but knew that he will come back.

[cyb-by-lang]

Cascade (part 3)

So, fun fact: Without Kei being in in 1-C, she and Shinso are not friends yet in this continuity. It's the small tragedies.

Also, Manual's about to have a very chaotic internship experience.

“Dropping out of the Sports Festival narrowed your options significantly,” Aizawa said. Bundled up in that obnoxious yellow sleeping bag, the clear determination to be cozy and damn the consequences was almost impressive. It just clashed with his stone-cold voice and clear disappointment in Kei’s entire existence. 

“That was the point.” Kei scoffed as she flung herself into the opposite chair. And despite her gripes, Kei could admit that Principal Nezu chose decent furniture. “I could fake a week-long illness.” 

Despite Kei bowing out of the Sports Festival after the cavalry battle, allowing some 1-B student she didn’t know to take her slot, some pro somewhere had seen her “potential.” Mostly the ones who could do basic math and realize her water-controlling power worked basically on the same scale as Todoroki’s Half-Hot, Half-Cold. She had a handful of offers from people like Selkie, which would take her well out of Musutafu and could drill her in proper heroic conduct. 

And to be blunt, Kei wished they didn’t give a shit. Their letters were burning a hole in her desk back home. 

There was a sort of pity system where students who didn’t get any offers were still assigned to pros for the internship experience, but Kei wasn’t a normal student. While Midoriya, who looked like he was going to cry when he saw a whopping zero offers, got something through his connection with All Might, Kei wasn’t holding her breath for anything useful to her cause. Any pro worth their salt needed to keep tabs on their interns. If a teenage hero-wannabe escaped containment and threw a truck across a street without authorization or something, there would be hell to pay. A lot of the hero course students had such destructive Quirks that property damage was on the lower end of potential bad outcomes. 

Honestly, someone like Nezu taking her on as an intern would be the best possible scenario. He’d work out that they were all better off if he let her off the leash for this week. Sort of like a big guardian sheepdog, only her territory comprised at least one city. She could clear her backlog of patrol duties with her teammates instead of learning hero industry paperwork procedures.

Kei’s gaze drifted to Aizawa, who was pointedly still here despite Kei already learning he’d planned on taking the week to work with a kid outside of 1-A. Apparently, he’d met with Shinsō after the Sports Festival and decided the kid was now his protégé. It was much faster to just snap up the General Education’s sole standout than bother with writing letters through an agency. For Kei’s part, she looked at the Quirks written out for Shinsō and that Monoma boy in 1-B and added them to her personal “nope” list. 

Being found out would ruin everything. 

Being found out by children just added embarrassment to the mix in untold quantities. No, she’d rather not deal with that. Adults were more married to their preconceptions and kept letting her get away with things. It was safer to stick to that part of the plan. 

Kei took a long sip of her tea and tried not to think too hard about it. The mere fact of her presence in this office vetoed such a simple solution. 

“Well, we don’t need to go quite so far to ensure your work continues,” Nezu said, placing his paws together on the top of his desk. 

Honestly, if not for the fact that he insisted on wearing suits, he could have been any rodent summon clan’s adjutant. Probably the brains of any operation he wanted, even if the clans’ schemes probably struck him as thinking too small. Certainly he’d have the toad clan wrapped around his toe beans inside of the day. 

Kei blinked away the stray thought. 

“It would raise suspicion if you weren’t involved in the internship experience this week, Gekkō-san,” Nezu went on, pausing to take a ship of his own tea. His fur fluffed in enjoyment. “But, in the interest of furthering your goals and ours, there is a task that might suit your skills while also fitting that requirement. I hope you’re interested.” 

“Well, I’ll listen,” Kei said. 

“Good enough! Now, you’ve heard about the Hero Killer operating in multiple Japanese cities by now, yes?” When Kei nodded, Nezu continued, “While your friends’ efforts were quite informative in narrowing down the man’s Quirk and general methodology, Endeavor’s agency has made their operations in the area rather tenuous. They cannot safely patrol the city.” 

Which was a nice way of saying that while Obito and Kakashi could get into pitched fights with people like Burnin or even Endeavor himself, it was a waste of time and effort on everyone’s parts. Apparently, the general ANBU aesthetic trended closely enough to Stain’s known appearance that it nearly got her teammates set on fire three separate times. No one was hurt, but not for lack of trying. There was always a lot of griping afterward. 

Kei nodded along. “So, you want me to…?” 

“The hero Manual has already put in an offer for your internship experience,” Nezu said, “which isn’t even something I had to ask of him! It appears that aside from Iida-kun, no other hero students have accepted his overtures. Try to keep everyone from unfortunate accidents, Gekkō-san. I know I can trust you to act with prudence and diligence.” 

That was a nice way of saying that Kei wasn’t allowed to go for the double-tap on Stain. Or let anybody die. Even if it looked like Endeavor’s bullshit attitude might be curtailed at long last if she just stood back and watched him get a little bit stabbed. 

“Manual is a respected mentor for beginner heroes,” Kei murmured, mostly to herself. Setting her teacup down on the desk, drained, she said, “Are you hoping this might be a character-building experience for me, Nezu-dono?” 

Those beady black eyes gleamed. “Perhaps.” 

“I want it noted that I don’t agree with this plan,” Aizawa said in his usual monotone. His eyes were open for the first time in a while, about as red and itchy-looking as usual. “Using Gekkō as villain bait doesn’t stop being unethical simply because she’s being raised for the role.”

“I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing.” 

There was a slight pause. “I know. It doesn’t make it less of a tragedy.” 

Kei sighed. “Then can we just acknowledge it and move on? I’d rather be useful.” 

Aizawa’s expression was difficult to read—sort of like Kei’s in the mirror—but he didn’t offer more negativity just yet. 

The main reason he wasn’t protesting more vociferously probably came down to Kei’s demonstrated ability to go directly up to a Nōmu billed as “the perfect anti-All Might weapon” and make its head implode with water pressure and no small amount of spite. Sort of like a deep-sea diver if their pressure suit failed. If Shigaraki didn’t want his minion dying so pathetically, he shouldn’t have said what its Quirks were. Shock absorption combined with super regeneration were great in theory, but they both had limits. And it didn’t take a genius to look at that exposed brain case and draw some conclusions. 

The whole thing was messy. 

Suffice to say, Kei found the occasional wary looks from her classmates wholly justified and tried not to let it bother her nowadays. 

“If I accept, do you plan to have Manual read in on everything?” Kei asked. Typically, mission parameters were set by the Hokage in advance, but Nezu did have a lot of leeway outside of contract specifications because the rat’s funds were functionally limitless. 

“No, that is not a requirement to secure the next steps,” Nezu said. He sort of looked like he smiled, but the teeth were wrong. For a rodent. “Just try to keep your explosive intervention style to a minimum and there won’t be anything too serious to explain.”

So, that’s a jinx.

I assumed so. 

Kei sighed. “Mission accepted, Nezu-dono. I’ll try not to step on any toes.”