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riddlesrose · 17 hours ago

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sporting someone else's jersey

w/ ushijima, bokuto, sakusa, oikawa, kyotani, atsumu, suna & tsukishima

in which you decide to see how your pro volleyball player boyfriend reacts to you wearing a jersey. a jersey that so happens to not be his, and not even his team?? c'mon now.

a.n; all my favs go pro this is great

ushijima wakatoshi stares you down as you're cooking in the kitchen. you can feel the intense bore of his curious eyes as you welcome him home from practice. his wandering vision takes in the black jersey with the name "sakusa" in big, bold letters across the back. you look over your shoulder when he doesn't answer, and are met with his bewildered state.

"oh are you interested in my new shirt?" you pull at the hem, examining the MSBY jersey look-alike as you turn to face you boyfriend. he takes three long strides through the kitchen before he's caged you between himself and the counter.

"i don't like it. it's representing another team. though i am acquainted to sakusa..." he grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger, pondering for a moment. "no, i don't like it."

you let your head fall onto his shoulder, defeated by his straightforwardness. he runs a hand down your spine, "is there a problem?"

you groan, meeting his eyes, "i thought you'd react more to it, like... be jealous or something, gods.." you say, rolling your eyes.

"well, i am jealous, i thought that was obvious?" he tilts his head to the side slightly, like a puppy.

"no, it wasn't!" you drop your forehead onto his chest and groan again. his 'matter-of-fact' attitude is probably going to kill you one day.

bokuto kotaro eyed the green shirt suspiciously, "when did you get that?"

you hum in a fake thought, "i think a while ago?" you turn, revealing the full front of the jersey. a large number 17, followed by the name sendai frogs.

"hey! it's tsukki-bro! hey, wait..." his shoulders fall, along with his smile. you almost gave up the act right then and there, he looks so upset immediately. he drags one foot after another, stopping in front of you. he pinches the mock jersey and rolls it between his fingers.

"it's not as soft as mine is." he mumbles, eyes still trained on the details of the shirt.

you wrap your arms around his neck and attempt to catch his eyes, but you realize they aren't sad. they're crinkled at the edges like he's smiling wide. seems like he's got you figured out.

kotaro figures you've caught onto his fake sadness, and a smile spreads across his lips as he kisses your forehead, "i saw the receipt on my email, you used my card."

"shit."

sakusa kiyoomi grimaces at your package as you hold it up for him to examine. if kiyoomi didn't find the green utterly horrid, it was the fact that you spent money, probably his, on a jersey that didn't even support his team.

"it's like you spun a wheel with teams on it and bought the first one it landed on," he watches as you rip the plastic off and instantly throw the jersey on. "oh my god."

you pull the shirt over your head, fitting into the sleeves, "what?"

"you're not even going to wash it first?" you pause. you hadn't thought about that, nor the fact that your boyfriend was now judging you twice over.

"i, um... no?" kiyoomi rolls his eyes, a telling look clouds his eyes. "wait, are you jealous?!" you practically leap off the couch, the green jersey falls fully into place, the hem grazing your thighs, as your boyfriend avoids your eyes.

"you are, i knew it!"

"i'm not.." he mumbles, cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink. "why did you pick the sendai frogs anyways? do you even know the player you picked?"

"it was kyotani, and not really, i've only ever seen their team play on tv, like once." you reach around your head and pull the shirt off, throwing it to the side. "but you're jealous!"

"am not."

the jersey was a short lived accessory in your closet, but best believe kiyoomi threw it out later that night. the shirt wasn't even soft enough to turn into a cleaning rag or sleep shirt, in his best opinion.

oikawa tooru, your loving boyfriend, stands in front of you, absolutely fuming as he eyes the white schweiden adler's shirt. what makes it even worse is the name and number you've picked. #20, kageyama tobio.

"get rid of that, like, yesterday."

"um, how about no?"

"what do you mean, 'no'!"

you stand from the couch, "oh tooru, you grew up with iwaizumi as a best friend, you've been told no before." then take off towards your bedroom.

"you-! get back over here!" tooru tails you into the bedroom before you can shut and lock the door, leaving him in the hall. he grabs a handful of jersey pulling you towards the closet as you protest, trying to scratch at his arm like a cat.

"here is a treasure trove of shirts and sweaters at your disposal, why on earth would you need that."

you wiggle free from his, not surprisingly, strong grip and fall back onto the neatly made bed, wrinkling the sheets. "because, i knew you'd freak."

tooru whips around, slack jawed, "oh, and it was iwazumi's idea." if his mouth could fall any further to the ground, you'd have to pick it up for him.

"you're both so horribly mean to me!"

kyotani kentaro, a man of many emotions but little words. for some reason some 15 months ago, you decided that he was a great target for your affection. it took a long time poking and prodding at the volleyball player for his number, and by the grace of the gods, it worked. you broke down his walls and caved yourself a cozy little home in his heart. now, he'd ask for nothing different-

"what the fuck is that."

you look between your drink and your phone, one in each hand, "what do you mean?" you ask with a sweet smile.

he rounds the table, "oh piss off, you know what i mean," and pulls your chair out from the table, while tugging at your oversized argentina jersey t-shirt. the blue shirt ripples under kentaro's hold.

"oh, that! there was a giveaway online on them after the argentina team won their last big game, people online were saying they were soft, so i entered for one to sleep in. i needed a new sleep shirt anyways." you don't miss the disgusted look that your boyfriend sports so well, it deepens as he realizes the name on the back. oikawa.

after a moment, he notices your shoulders shaking lightly in laughter, sensing his displeasure. you rise from the chair, bringing him and his scrunched face into your hold, "i'm just fucking with ya, i specifically picked oikawa, too."

he huffs with a stupid smile, rolling his eyes but reciprocating the hug, "gross, get rid of it."

miya atsumu's jaw drops when he catches a sight of you lounging comfortably on the couch, in a jersey that is most definitely not his. he swiftly makes his way between you and the television, ignoring your protest. his brow furrows when you don't immediately acknowledge him and his pout, (though he will 100% deny he's pouting, miya atsumu does not pout like a child).

you lean back on the couch as he advances, "off, take it off," he says while grasping at the neck, trying to pull the jersey from you.

"atsumu stop, you're gonna stretch it!" you protest, trying to blindly swat his hands away.

he stops, the jersey falls back over your eyes and you're met with the most dramatically hurt expression ever, "you care more about this, than my feelings?!"

"i spent good money on it, besides, you went to school with suna so i thought it would be cute!"

"it is far from cute," he spits, eyes full of envy for what could have been you in his clothes. "if i let you re-steal the grey sweater can i throw that thing out?"

"... possibly."

atsumu crosses his arms, "i'll forfeit my movie choice tonight."

"you've got yourself a deal, sir."

"rin come help me with this!" suna rintaro shuffles off the couch at your call, making his way to the hallway between the living room and kitchen of your share apartment.

he leans on the doorframe as he watches you move around a picture frame, "where should this go?" you turn to him, handing the frame to him. it was a picture of the two of you and the miya twins at the recent festival that passed. it was nice to see the two of them, and thankfully both their schedules allowed for them to come.

rintaro smiles at the picture, gaze lifting to you, who's looking at him expectantly. his view lowers to your attire, a simple pair of black shorts and a shirt he's never seen before.

you catch him examining the jersey-copy and turn around to reveal the name miya across the back. you look over your shoulder and are met with rintaro's sharp eyes, judging your choice of player. and team.

he reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. "hey, why don't we have a bonfire tonight, i'm sure the pit is free and i have the perfect fire starter." you feel the shirt tighten by your shoulder, he's got an iron grip on the jersey, but his face remains calm as ever.

a little too calm, it's kind of unnerving.

large white letters stare tsukishima kei right back in his dumbfounded face. your boyfriend places his gym bag down by the door, walking into the kitchen, ducking under the frame that just slightly too short for him.

"hinata, really?" his voice sounded extremely irritated, but his face softened as you turned to face him.

you place your mug down, "yeah! i remember you went to school with him, i thought it was cool you both went pro!"

"i don't care what that blockhead did. more importantly, where did you get that?" the blonde gestures to your torso, flicking his wrist around distastefully.

you smile, "i ordered it online! since it's a popular team they have their own line of lookalikes, they're really soft too." while you praise the MSBY jersey, kei's brief look of jealousy goes unseen.

"you bought a jersey based on someone i went to high school with?" he steps closer, just to flick you on the forehead, "that's stupid."

you rub the spot, while swatting his chest with the back of your other hand, "you're stupid!"

"no, it's stupid that we're not burning that thing yet."

masterlist

p.s; i was gonna do goshiki but realized how CHOPPED he is in the timeskip. sorry my beloved i can't take you seriously with those baby bangs.

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swytdoll · 2 days ago

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(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

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luvst4rc0r3 · 2 days ago

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Just imagine Jinx about to devour your pretty pussy and stops to write on your thigh: JINX WAZ HERE, with an arrow pointing toward your wet center, before finally devouring you like a hungry woman. I would love it if you could write it down if you can!

IM SORRY IF THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS EXPECTED!! I’m not good at writing smut😭😭☝️☝️😒

“Welcome Home”

Jinx x f!reader

WARNINGS: Smut

WC:1848

Def not proofread

Jinx is full of surprises.

They can be good! But they are definitely unexpected.

She had been pent up from the last couple of weeks because she has gotten mission to mission back to back with no you to comfort her.

You had also been on missions back to back but in Ionia for weeks.

You haven’t been able to see each other for three weeks!

But now that all changes

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The door had barely clicked shut before you felt a body slam into yours, nearly knocking the breath out of you.

“Jinx—”

“Shut up.”

Her arms locked around your waist, and her face burrowed into your neck, breathing you in like she was afraid you’d disappear again. A breathy, almost whiny exhale left her lips, and she pressed a kiss to your pulse point.

“Three weeks,” she muttered. “Three. Weeks. D’you know how long that is? Do you know how fuckin’ much I missed you?”

You sighed, dropping your bag onto the floor and wrapping your arms around her. “I missed you too, baby.”

She pulled back, blue eyes flicking over your face, scanning you. The exhaustion must’ve been obvious—the deep-set tiredness in your eyes, the tension in your jaw. And if that wasn’t enough, Jinx could read you like an open book anyway.

“What’s wrong?”

You groaned, rolling your head back. “People. That’s what’s wrong.”

Her brows furrowed. “People?”

You exhaled sharply, fingers twitching against her waist. “Every time I turned around, someone was flirting with me. Some rich bitch, some cocky business guy, even my damn driver. I was so close to knocking a guy’s teeth out yesterday, Jinx, I swear—”

Jinx had already been irritated about the fact that you were gone, but this? This was fuel. Her fingers curled against your back, her nails digging just a bit too hard. She always got possessive, but this wasn’t just jealousy—this was frustration, anger, pent-up need.

And she wasn’t about to let you sit there all tense and frustrated and wound up tight when she could do something about it.

“C’mere.”

Before you could react, her fingers curled into your jacket and yanked you forward, crashing her lips against yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was Jinx, raw and desperate, pouring all of her missing-you and how-dare-they-look-at-you energy into the kiss. Her teeth scraped against your bottom lip, her tongue dipped into your mouth, stealing whatever breath you had left.

Your hands shot to her hips, squeezing as you stumbled backward, your back hitting the door with a quiet thud. Jinx was on you, fingers fisting in your hair, knee slipping between your legs as she pressed you against the wood.

“You’re mine,” she mumbled against your lips, her breath hot, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your stomach. “Bet they wanted you.”

You shivered as her lips trailed down your jaw, her hands sliding under your jacket to press against the warm skin beneath. “Didn’t matter,” you managed, voice breathy. “They weren’t you.”

Jinx let out a low hum, pleased, as she nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing over sensitive skin. “Damn right,” she muttered before sucking a mark there, her tongue flicking over the spot to soothe the sting. Her hands roamed—slow, teasing, like she had all the time in the world now that you were finally home.

Your fingers tangled in her hair as she kissed her way back up to your lips, her breath hot against your skin. “Jinx,” you whispered, almost a plea.

She smirked, her hands gripping your thighs before effortlessly lifting you, making you gasp. “Shh, I gotcha,” she murmured, carrying you toward the bedroom. “You had a long trip, baby. Time to remind you where you really belong.”

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

Here you are. On the edge of your shared bed begging for another release.

“A-ah…baby please” you moaned out arching your back closer to her face to feel more. Your fingers were intertwined with the bed sheet .

She stops and looks up at you, “please what?” She cocks a sly smile while she says that.

You pout at her words but reluctantly give in, “I… I need to cum” you move your hand to cross your arms making your boobs pop out.

“Well when you ask like that…” she suddenly stops at looks behind you grinning.

You turn around to see what she was looking at and she grabs your chin turning it back to her and chides “who said you could look away?”

She kiss your lips and lets out a soft hum. “I’ll be right back”

You lie down on the bed closing your eyes, hoping to get a bit of shut eye before she came back.

You were too drown out in your thought of what was she doing to realize that she came back and was writing something on your inner thigh.

You didn’t even register it at first but when she complied the first stroke you jerk up.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh…don’t you worry your pretty head about it” she says while slowly caressing your underboob before slowly moving up to your nipple, pinching it softly.

You let a whimper before looking down at her. She was…writing or drawing something on your thigh?

You didn’t really care because she was making you let out these pornographic moans but just playing with your nipple.

When she took her hand away you let out a sad whimper at the lost of her touch.

“It’s ok baby” she reassures you before diving back into your drenched cunt. She was moving at an ungodly speed, her tongue lapping around your poor swollen clit.

“Jinx— fuck. Please—ah. please let me cum”

You barely let out your moans betraying you mid sentence.

She hums into your clit sending vibrations up your body as to say ‘yes’

With the hum of her approval and her still lapping at your cunt maybe going even faster, you came all over her face while moaning out wildly.

“Ah! Fuck Jinx. Mm… ha—ha!” Your body jerks uncontrollably towards her face. Your fingers were holding onto the bedsheets for their life.

Soon the your high came down and you collapsed onto the bed. Closing your eyes you could barely register Jinx’s words before you were knocked out.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

You woke up groggy, the remnants of last night’s chaos still buzzing faintly in your skull. The room smelled like gunpowder, sugar, and something vaguely chemical—classic Jinx.

Stretching, you groaned, only to feel something… weird. Like dried paint, flaking against your skin. Blinking away the sleep, you sat up and glanced down.

Oh.

A streak of neon pink ran along your inner thigh, the texture thick and dry like it had been applied with purpose.

Jinx-level purpose.

You swallowed, a creeping sense of mischief crawling up your spine. Carefully, you swung your legs over the bed and shuffled to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

And there it was.

Scrawled in messy, chaotic letters—

“JINX WAZ HERE”

The paint marker had bled a little, the letters smudged at the edges, like she’d been giggling too much to keep a steady hand.

“Jinx,” you muttered, running a hand down your face.

As if summoned by sheer audacity, a snicker came from behind you.

Turning, you found her sprawled across the bed, grinning wide, blue eyes glinting like she’d just robbed a candy store.

“You like it?” she asked, chin propped on her hand.

You huffed, gesturing to your thigh. “You vandalized me.”

Jinx gasped, all mock offense. “Pfft, vandalized? No, no, sweets, this is art. My masterpiece. A statement.” She rolled onto her back, kicking her feet in the air. “Now everybody knows you’re mine.”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah? And what if I walk outside like this?”

Her grin widened, sharpened.

“Oh, I dare you.”

Your face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, babe,” she cooed, winking. “You love it.”

…Yeah. Yeah, you did.

IM TRYING TO COMPLETE ALL OF MY REQUEST TODAY AND TMR!!

I NEED FOOD

#arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #x reader #x you #x y/n #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx lol #jinx supremacy #jinx angst #jinx fluff #jinx x reader #jinx smut #arcame

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ankababy · 2 days ago

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A Home

Part 2

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

After winning another game, you found two boys. Unconscious, bleeding, and kind of pretty too. Anyways, you were an angel, so you took them in, and now, they’re waking up in your fancy apartment.

(Wrote this thinking of not roasted Niragi but it doesn’t really matter, so it can be both before and after the beach, no actual romance just Niragi making moves to have fun, english NOT my first language)

The first thing Niragi registered when he regained consciousness was the feeling of something soft. Too soft. His brain, still foggy from unconsciousness, automatically assumed one of two things:

1. He was dead.

2. He was dreaming about being rich.

But when he blinked and his vision cleared, revealing a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a suspiciously clean marble floor, he realized something much more unsettling.

He wasn't fucking dead.

This was worse.

He groaned, shifting, and that's when he felt it—pain. A dull, aching pain everywhere. His body had been through some shit, and moving made him immediately regret waking up.

That's when he heard it.

A voice.

Calm. Unfazed. Judgmental.

"So you survived. Unfortunate."

Niragi's head snapped to the side. And of course. Of course. The first thing he had to see after surviving whatever fuck had happened was the one fucking guy he hated more than anyone else.

Chishiya.

That smug bastard was sitting up on the couch opposite him, looking as bored as ever, one arm draped over the backrest like he was on vacation. His expression was unreadable, but Niragi knew that if he had died, this dude would've been the first to loot his body.

"Wow." Niragi croaked, voice hoarse. "You're still alive? That's what's unfortunate.”

Chishiya didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Niragi like he was trying to calculate how much blood loss it would take to kill him. "Tragic, isn't it?"

"Deeply."

Before Niragi could force himself up and punch him, something shifted in the room. A presence. A sweet one.

"Good morning! You're finally awake!"

Both of them turned their heads.

There, standing in front of them, was you.

And holy shit.

You looked like you didn't belong in this world. At all. Too clean. Too soft. Too... nice. Like some angelic creature that had somehow survived this thing with sheer kindness and, possibly, black magic.

Chishiya stared at you with interest, already analyzing. Niragi, on the other hand, openly squinted.

"What the fuck?"

You smiled warmly. "Oh, I found you two unconscious and bleeding out, so I took you in and patched you up!"

Silence.

"You did what?" Niragi snapped. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

Your expression didn't change. "Because you were dying."

"And?" Niragi looked deeply offended. "That's how things work. People die. It's the natural order of—"

Chishiya cut in. "What he's trying to say is that you wasted your time."

You blinked. "You think saving you was a waste of time?"

Chishiya gave a small, indifferent nod. "Correct."

Niragi scoffed, trying to push himself up, only to immediately regret it as pain shot through his body. "Ow, fuck—"

"You really shouldn't be moving that much yet." you said, stepping forward instinctively, only for Niragi to flinch like you were about to stab him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Niragi barked, pointing a shaky finger at you. "Back up, Care Bear. I don't trust this."

Chishiya exhaled, unimpressed. "Obviously. If you trusted this, you'd be dumber than you already are."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

You clasped your hands together, watching them. "So... you two know each other?”

Both of them immediately turned to you and spoke at the same time.

"No." (Niragi.)

"Unfortunately." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Giggled. Niragi stared at you like you were an alien, while Chishiya simply observed.

"Well, I'm Y/N." you introduced yourself, smiling brightly. "And you're currently in my home! Don't worry, I don't expect you to do anything in return. Just rest up until you're better."

Niragi, still processing, slow-blinked. "Okay. Yeah. Cool. But—why the fuck do you have such a fancy-ass apartment?"

You beamed. "Oh, I just found it! No one was left, so I took it!"

"...That's kind of fucked up."

You tilted your head innocently. "Would you rather I left it empty?"

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at you. "Okay, you're too calm. This is weird. You're weird."

Chishiya hummed. "Agreed. People like you don't exist anymore."

You simply shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. You two looked like you needed help, so I helped."

Silence.

Then Niragi scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, but I'm still not thanking you."

Chishiya leaned back, smirking slightly. "Obviously. You have no manners."

Niragi shot him a glare. "Neither do you, dickhead."

"Incorrect. I have excellent manners. I just choose not to use them."

You giggled again, and it was honestly disturbing. Niragi wasn't used to this—actual warmth. It made his skin crawl. He eyed you like you might secretly be a serial killer.

Chishiya, meanwhile, just looked at you thoughtfully. "So. What happens now?"

You smiled. "Well, now you both get to heal up in peace! And maybe eat something."

Niragi's eye twitched. "This is a trap."

Chishiya nodded slightly. "I second that. This is suspicious."

You pouted. "You think I saved your lives just to poison you?"

"Yes." both of them said at the same time.

You laughed. "You two are funny."

"No." Chishiya corrected. "He's just loud."

Niragi turned to him, jaw dropping. "Oh my god, do you ever shut up?"

Chishiya tilted his head. "No."

You just smiled sweetly. "Well, at least you have each other!"

Both of them physically recoiled at that.

"Fuck no." (Niragi.)

"Don't say that again." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Again. It was terrifying.

"So," you chirped, tilting your head slightly. "What are your names?"

Niragi and Chishiya both went silent.

Chishiya, to be fair, had already been silent—watching, listening, assessing—but Niragi? He was actively avoiding answering. You could see it in his face, the way his lips pursed slightly, the tiny furrow in his brow. He didn't like giving out information. Neither of them did.

But you? You were patient.

Chishiya, as expected, was the first to break the silence. "Chishiya."

You nodded, smiling warmly. "Chishiya." you repeated. "That's a nice name."

Chishiya hummed noncommittally, watching you. It was strange—his expression was almost completely blank, but you could feel his thoughts running at high speed, analyzing, picking apart everything you said.

That was fine. You were used to it.

Then you turned to Niragi expectantly.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you wanna know?"

You blinked. "Because I saved your life?"

"Tch." He looked away, muttering, "It's Niragi."

You smiled, pretending you didn't hear the hostility in his tone. "Nice to meet you, Niragi."

Niragi made a face, shifting uncomfortably. "You're really too nice.”

Chishiya let out a quiet chuckle, like Niragi being irritated was mildly entertaining. "Not used to kindness?"

Niragi shot him a glare. "No, actually. I'm allergic."

"Ah." Chishiya nodded in mock understanding. "That explains the rash on your personality."

Your eyes flicked between them, amused. "Do you two always talk to each other like this?"

"Yes." (Chishiya.)

"No, usually it's worse." (Niragi.)

You giggled. Niragi visibly shuddered. "Stop doing that."

"What?"

"That creepy little giggle. You sound like a horror movie.

"That's just how I laugh!"

"Yeah, well, laugh worse."

Chishiya leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're deflecting."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You smiled, unbothered. "So... how long have you two known each other?”

Chishiya barely reacted. Niragi, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated groan. "Too fucking long."

"Not long enough," Chishiya muttered. "considering you're still alive."

You just watched them bicker, your head tilted slightly in curiosity.

Chishiya was fascinating.

The way he spoke, the way he moved—there was control in everything he did. He gave just enough to keep the conversation going but not enough to actually reveal anything. You recognized it immediately.

You had worked with people like him before.

People who knew they were smart. Who didn't trust easily. Who lived in their heads more than in the real world. Who stayed five steps ahead, always.

You also knew that someone like him? He wasn't just naturally like this.

Something had made him this way.

You turned to Niragi next. And, oh.

It didn't take a trained professional to see that Niragi had shit going on.

But you were a trained professional.

And holy shit.

He was wound so tight. Every move was a defense mechanism—every word, every glance, every breath dripping with aggression. His hostility wasn't random; it was habitual. Built over years of... something.

You didn't need to know the details to know that he had been hurt before. Badly. Which was exactly why he was acting like this now.

Still, you didn't press. Not yet.

Instead, you just said, "You two seem... different."

Niragi scoffed. "No shit."

Chishiya's gaze flicked to you. "What gave it away?"

You shrugged playfully. "Just a hunch."

Niragi let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back into the couch. "So, what, you used to be a detective or something?"

You smiled sweetly. "A therapist, actually."

Silence.

"No." Niragi immediately sat up, despite the pain. "I'm out."

Chishiya's lips quirked in mild interest. "That makes sense."

You blinked at Niragi, concerned. "You shouldn't be moving so much yet—"

"No. No. I refuse to be psychoanalyzed."

"I wasn't going to psychoanalyze you." you said, smiling. "I mean, unless you want me to?"

Niragi looked at you like you had just suggested murder. "Absolutely fucking not."

Chishiya, meanwhile, was still staring at you. Thinking. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

A therapist.

That was new.

That meant you weren't just naive. You weren't just blindly nice.

You understood people.

Which meant you understood him.

And that? That was more dangerous than any gun.

You just smiled. "Well, don't worry. You're safe here. I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to."

Niragi narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. "For real?"

"For real."

"...Fine." He relaxed slightly, though he still looked deeply untrusting.

Chishiya, on the other hand, was watching you even more intently now.

"You're not what I expected." he admitted.

You tilted your head. "What did you expect?"

"Someone either stupid or desperate."

You laughed softly. "Well, I'm neither."

Chishiya's lips quirked again. "Clearly."

Niragi groaned. "Oh my god, don't start liking her."

Chishiya barely reacted. "I don't like anyone."

"That's what I'm saying!" Niragi waved a hand at you. "She's too nice. It's suspicious."

You just smiled. "I guess you'll have to deal with it."

Niragi muttered something under his breath, slumping back down. Chishiya simply watched you a little longer before finally closing his eyes, as if filing everything away for later.

You knew this was just the beginning.

But you weren't worried.

You had time.

Niragi was staring at the ceiling. Chishiya, ever the picture of nonchalance, had his eyes half-closed, looking as if he was two seconds away from slipping into a coma—not because he was exhausted, but because reality itself bored him.

"Are you two hungry?" you asked sweetly.

Nothing.

No reaction.

Not even a blink.

Chishiya didn't look at you, didn't acknowledge the question, didn't do anything besides continue breathing. Niragi, on the other hand, did react—just in the most Niragi way possible.

He scoffed. Loudly. Dramatically. As if you had just asked him whether he wanted to start a gratitude journal.

"You think we trust you enough to eat something you made?" he sneered.

You blinked. "Yes."

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Squinted at you. "You say that like it's obvious."

"It is obvious." You stood up, stretching slightly. "You need to eat to recover. So, I'm making you food."

Still, no reaction. Neither of them moved. Neither of them agreed or refused.

Fine. That was fine. You weren't expecting a "thank you" or a grand speech of appreciation. You could tell exactly what they were doing—creating distance, keeping their guard up, making sure they didn't owe you anything.

You understood. Really, you did.

But that wasn't going to stop you. So, without another word, you walked toward the connected kitchen.

Immediately, Niragi's voice followed you. "Wait, you're actually cooking?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?"

You didn't respond, already moving to the stove. The pot on the burner was already filled—leftover soup you had started earlier, still warm. You reached for a spoon, stirring gently, the scent filling the air instantly.

Chishiya didn't move or react, but Niragi? His head tilted the tiniest bit, like he was trying not to be obvious about sniffing the air.

You had to suppress a giggle.

They weren't going to ask for food. Oh, no. That would be too easy. They were too stubborn for that. Which was why you weren't going to wait for permission.

You kept stirring, the rich aroma of the soup spreading. It had been a while since you'd made something decent—soup was simple, easy, comforting. You weren't sure what these two had been eating before you found them half-dead, but judging by how they looked under all the blood and bruises, it wasn't much.

From the couch, Niragi groaned loudly, flopping dramatically onto his side. "This is so fucking weird."

"What is?" you asked, not turning around.

"This." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "You. Cooking. This whole 'let's take care of the random half-dead guys I found' bullshit."

You hummed. "Would you rather I had left you there?"

"Yes!"

A beat of silence.

Then Chishiya: "No, he wouldn't have."

Niragi snapped his head toward him. "Shut the fuck up."

Chishiya didn't even look at him. "You're still here, aren't you?”

"I can leave anytime I want." Niragi shot back.

Chishiya finally turned his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Then why haven't you?"

Niragi froze.

You hid a smile, still focused on the soup. That was interesting.

Chishiya wasn't just observant—he was ruthless about it. He had no problem pointing things out that other people would avoid saying out loud.

You liked that.

Meanwhile, Niragi—having zero rebuttal—just let out another frustrated groan and dropped back against the couch. "God, I hate you."

"Likewise."

They both hated each other. And yet... neither of them had moved.

You smiled to yourself.

You gave the soup another gentle stir before ladling it into bowls. The warmth of it curled through your fingers, and as you turned around, you caught them.

Both of them.

Niragi and Chishiya.

Trying so hard to look uninterested.

They didn't move. Didn't react. But their eyes flickered—just barely—to the steaming bowls in your hands.

You knew they were hungry. Obviously. Their bodies were recovering, their wounds were fresh, and it had probably been days since they'd eaten properly.

But they weren't going to say anything. Because admitting that they needed something? Admitting that they relied on someone else?

That was too much.

You smiled sweetly. And completely ignored their bullshit. You walked up to the small coffee table in front of them, placing the bowls down with a gentle clink.

"Eat." you said simply.

Silence.

Chishiya stared at the soup, then at you, his expression blank but his mind obviously racing.

Niragi? He just glared.

"I never said I wanted it." he muttered.

You just smiled. "I know."

More silence.

The soup smelled amazing. You could tell, because Niragi kept sniffing the air without realizing he was doing it. Then he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm just gonna eat it because you put it in front of me?"

"Yes."

His eye twitched. "You're so fucking weird."

"I've been called worse."

Then, with a dramatic, suffering sigh, Niragi grabbed the bowl.

Victory.

Chishiya? He didn't reach for his immediately. Instead, he just... watched.

Watched you.

Watched Niragi.

Watched everything.

And then, after a long, slow moment, he finally—casually, effortlessly—picked up the bowl and took a small sip. He didn't react. But you noticed the way his fingers curled slightly more securely around the ceramic.

He liked it.

He just wasn't going to say it.

That was fine.

You weren't expecting thanks. You weren't expecting gratitude.

All you wanted was for them to eat.

And now? They were.

You smiled to yourself and returned to the kitchen, humming softly as you cleaned up. Behind you, on the couch, Niragi grumbled under his breath, still half-muttering insults at Chishiya between bites.

Chishiya didn't respond. He was too busy finishing his soup.

By the time you were done cleaning up the kitchen, the two of them had nearly finished their soup.

Which, really, was hilarious considering how Niragi had dramatically refused the idea of eating anything made by you just minutes ago. And yet, there he was, scowling at the spoon in his hand

Chishiya, on the other hand, had barely made a sound as he ate. No complaints, no praise, just silent, efficient consumption like he was running off of pure logic.

Food = survival. No need to make a fuss about it.

You approached them again with your usual warm smile, hands clasped together.

"So," you chirped. "since you're both fed and alive, this place has plenty of bedrooms. You don't have to keep sitting on the couch all night."

Chishiya barely reacted.

Niragi, however, snorted. "Oh, do we not?"

"You don't." you confirmed sweetly. "I can show you some, or you can just go find one yourself if you're that fed up with me."

Chishiya's lips twitched at that. Just the faintest smirk. He liked the way you phrased that—the fact that you knew exactly how they were acting and didn't even take offense to it.

Niragi just clicked his tongue, leaning back on the couch. "Tch. Like hell I trust any of the bedrooms in this creepy rich-ass place."

You tilted your head, amused. "You trust the couch more?"

"I trust myself more.”

"You're literally injured."

"I'd rather sleep in a ditch than get comfortable here."

You shrugged. "Okay, the door is open too."

Niragi stared at you. "Are you actually kicking me out?"

"No." you giggled, "I'm just giving you options! You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't like being told what to do."

Niragi made a face. "Oh, fuck off."

Chishiya finally stretched his legs slightly, glancingat you. "How many rooms?"

"Enough."

Chishiya's eyes flicked up to the ceiling, as if calculating the space. His mind was always working—always analyzing. You could practically see the gears turning.

"Five." he guessed.

You beamed. "Close. Six."

"Hm."

Chishiya's gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

A house this big? With this many rooms? Still fully intact?

It wasn't just luck. There was a reason you had secured a place like this. Chishiya was too smart to ignore that.

Niragi groaned. "Whatever. I call the biggest room."

You smiled, hands on your hips. "You'll have to find it first."

Niragi's eyes narrowed. "...Is that a challenge?"

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don't even have the energy to stand."

"Shut up." Niragi grumbled, but didn't actually get up.

You laughed softly. "The rooms are all clean, and they even have actual beds. Fresh blankets, too."

Niragi rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're really selling this, huh?"

You smiled, unbothered. "I'm just being nice."

"Too nice." Niragi crossed his arms. "What's your deal?"

Your smile softened slightly, but you didn't answer right away.

Instead, you tilted your head and asked, "Do you think people only do things when they want something in return?"

Niragi hesitated. Which, really, said everything.

You just smiled. "You should go rest. Both of you. Your bodies need it."

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, standing up first. "I'll find one myself."

You nodded. "Go ahead."

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there for a moment, looking at you—not suspiciously, not threateningly, just... observing. Then, finally, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

Niragi groaned again, shifting to lay down on the couch. "I'll move later." he muttered.

You just smiled. "Okay."

And with that, you walked away, leaving them to their own devices. Because at the end of the day? You weren't forcing them to do anything.

You were just offering something they weren't used to.

A choice.

A home.

You knew exactly which rooms they had chosen.

It was easy.

You'd left all the doors open on purpose. So when two of them inevitably ended up closed—well. That told you everything you needed to know.

One belonged to Niragi.

One belonged to Chishiya.

And since you weren't in the mood for an argument right now, you decided to check on Chishiya first.

So, with a soft knock, you pushed the door open.

Chishiya was there, as expected, sitting on the edge of the bed. His posture was relaxed, but not lazy. A picture of calm, but never vulnerable.

His eyes flicked to you immediately when you entered. Always alert. Always watching.

You smiled. "Hey."

He didn't say anything—just gave you a slow, expectant look, like he was already calculating the reason for your visit.

You stepped further in, crossing your arms lightly. "I wanted to let you know that the shower works."

Chishiya raised a brow. He didn't look surprised, per se—just mildly intrigued, like he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

You continued, ever sweet, ever patient. "I set up a system with rainwater, and I got a boiler working with solar energy. You can take a hot shower if you want."

A pause.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You built that yourself?"

You grinned. "Impressed?"

Chishiya's lips curled just slightly. "Not quite."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Because nothing impresses you."

His smirk widened a fraction. He wasn't denying it.

You sighed dramatically, shifting your weight onto one foot. "Anyway, just be careful. The system's pretty stable, but I still don't trust it completely. So don't do anything stupid and end up flooding the place."

Chishiya tilted his head, as if amused by the idea. "I'll try to contain myself."

"Please do." you said, voice sickly sweet. Then, without missing a beat, you added, "Oh, and—"

You smiled. Soft. Kind.

Too kind.

Fake kind.

"—don't even try anything. My door's closed."

Chishiya blinked.

Because you weren't just sweet.

You weren't just kind.

You were smart.

You knew exactly the kind of person he was.

And you planned accordingly.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle you'd heard from him yet. He leaned back slightly, resting his arms against the bed, studying you.

"You think I'd try something?" he mused, tone light, teasing.

"I think you're smarter than that." you replied easily.

A beat.

Then Chishiya's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Interesting."

You simply gave him one last sweet, angelic smile before turning toward the door. "Goodnight, Chishiya."

And with that, you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, and as you walked down the hall, you knew—knew without even needing to see—that Chishiya was still smiling to himself.

You were a smart girl.

And he liked that.

When you arrived there, you took a deep breath before knocking on the other door that was closed.

You knocked twice. A beat of silence, then—

A loud, dramatic groan from the other side.

"What now?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open.

And there he was—Niragi, in all his irritating glory, sprawled across the bed. One arm behind his head, shirt half-ridden up, legs spread out just enough to be annoying.

He squinted at you lazily. "Oh, it's you."

"Of course it's me."

He groaned again, rolling onto his side in the most dramatic way possible. "What do you want? I'm tryna sleep here."

You crossed your arms. "I came to tell you the shower works."

That got his attention.

Niragi blinked. "Wait. What?"

"I have rainwater stored, and I managed to get a boiler running with solar energy." You tilted your head. "You can take a shower. A hot one."

Niragi stared at you like you had just told him the sky was made of gold. Then, suddenly, he sat up—grinning, wild and sharp, like a fucking hyena.

"Oh, shit." he snickered, running a hand through his now let out hair. "You mean I don't have to smell like blood anymore?"

You sighed. "I mean, it's up to you."

He stretched his arms, cracking his neck. "Damn, maybe you really are an angel. Here I thought you just liked keeping dirty, injured men in your house for fun."

You gave him an unimpressed look. "Yes, Niragi. That's exactly what I do in my free time."

He grinned. "If you wanted me in your bed, babe, you could've just said so."

You sighed again, rubbing your temple. "That is not what I said."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't wanna sleep next to me? I'm warm, I smell good—"

"You literally just said you smell like blood."

Niragi ignored that. "—and I'd keep you safe all night."

You raised a brow. "You can't even stand up properly."

He grinned wider. "That just means I'd have to let you do all the work."

You leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head slightly, eyes glittering with something playful. "That's so cute. You think you'd survive me?"

His grin froze.

Just for a second.

Then, he laughed. Loud. Unfiltered. Amused as hell. He licked his teeth, watching you with way too much interest. "You like playing hard to get, huh?"

You shrugged. "You like losing?"

That hit.

That hit hard.

Because for the first time, Niragi actually shut up. Just for a second. Just enough for you to know that you had won.

"...Fuck." he muttered, almost to himself. "You're fun."

"I know." you said sweetly. "Now go take a shower before I change my mind."

You turned to leave—but of course, Niragi couldn't let you go without one last word.

"Hey, babe?"

You paused in the doorway, looking back.

He smirked. "Your door open, or closed?"

You grinned.

"Locked."

And with that, you walked away—leaving Niragi sitting there, grinning like an idiot.

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the hallway the next morning.

The air felt off.

It wasn’t a sound—because they weren’t making any. It wasn’t even an instinct, though you had plenty of that.

It was just that deep, unshakable feeling you got when you walked into a room and realized you were one second away from witnessing homicide.

And that’s exactly what was happening.

You turned the corner into the kitchen and—yep. There they were.

Chishiya and Niragi.

Standing there, dead silent, staring each other down like two wolves deciding whether they wanted to rip each other’s throats out before breakfast.

Niragi moved first.

Not towards you. Towards Chishiya.

One sharp, sudden step—his whole body tensed like he was about to fucking lunge, like he was about to do something stupid.

And Chishiya? Didn’t move an inch. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just stood there, perfectly still, perfectly calm, eyes half-lidded like he was already five steps ahead of this entire situation.

Which, knowing Chishiya? He was.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You cleared your throat. Loudly.

Both of them turned to look at you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are we committing murder before or after breakfast?”

Niragi snorted. “That depends. You making anything good?”

You sighed, stepping into the kitchen like you weren’t walking into a fucking crime scene. “Depends.” you said, moving past them to grab some supplies. “Are you two gonna be civil, or am I cooking while dodging bullets?”

“Can’t make promises.” Niragi muttered, side-eyeing Chishiya.

Chishiya, for his part, said nothing. Just shifted slightly, tilting his head, gaze dissecting.

Watching Niragi. Watching you.

You exhaled through your nose. Of course.

They weren’t going to make this easy. That was fine. You didn’t expect them to.

Instead of scolding them, instead of trying to force anything, you did what you did best.

You read the room.

Because here’s the thing—people like Niragi? They didn’t start fights for no reason. Not really. He didn’t wake up thinking, hm, who should I try to kill today?

No—he woke up looking for control.

And Chishiya? Chishiya didn’t wake up looking for a fight. But he sure as hell wasn’t backing down from one, either.

So this wasn’t just aggression.

This was posturing. This was two men who hated each other testing the limits of the space they now shared.

Which meant there was only one thing you needed to do. You needed to give them something else to focus on.

So you got to work. And most importantly? You talked.

Not to them, really. Just enough to keep them engaged without forcing them to cooperate.

“So,” you hummed, cracking an egg into the pan. “how’d you two even end up in that mess I found you in?”

Silence.

Niragi scoffed. “That mess?” He snorted. “Try a fucking bloodbath.”

You hummed. “Right, yeah, I noticed that part.”

Chishiya finally spoke. “Tch. Not surprising.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go—”

“I’m just saying,” Chishiya mused. “it’s not like you’re particularly good at self-preservation.”

“Fuck off, rat.”

You sighed. “Okay, so still not cooperative.”

Niragi gave you a shit-eating grin. “Aww, babe, don’t take it personally.”

You shot him a look. “I don’t. I just think it’s hilarious that you two can’t even answer a simple question without fighting.”

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’re not fighting.”

Niragi grinned. “Yeah, baby, this is just how we talk.”

“Oh, so this is bonding, then?” you deadpanned.

Niragi shrugged. “Something like that.”

You just shook your head, flipping the eggs.

It didn’t matter. They were calming down. They were still distant, still purposefully difficult, but that was fine.

You weren’t trying to fix them.

You were just making breakfast.

And in a world that had taken so much from them, that was probably the best thing you could do.

You let the conversation die out for a bit, focusing on not burning the eggs while the two grown, violent men in your kitchen continued their silent pissing contest.

They weren’t trying to kill each other anymore, but you could feel the tension, the way Niragi kept throwing sideways glances at Chishiya, and the way Chishiya pointedly ignored him like he wasn’t even worth the energy.

God, you were babysitting.

And yet.

You liked them.

Not in a wow, what great, emotionally well-adjusted people kind of way.

More like a wow, these are the worst fucking people I’ve ever met and yet I kind of want to keep them alive kind of way.

Which was dangerous. So dangerous.

But you never did have much self-preservation.

So you tried again.

You flipped the eggs onto a plate, moving to grab some bread, and—casually, like you weren’t expecting much—asked: “So. You still didn’t answer my question.”

Chishiya hummed, eyes lidded, uninterested.

Niragi, on the other hand, sighed so loudly it was like you had just asked him to recite the entire history of the universe.

“What fucking question?” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “How you two ended up bleeding out in an alley.”

Silence.

Not the murderous kind of silence, at least.

Just hesitation.

Which meant you had them.

You pressed. Gently.

“I mean, was it a fight? Did you get jumped? Were you two just being dumbasses?”

Niragi scoffed. “The last one.”

Chishiya sighed. “Obviously.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You fought back a grin. “Okay, so what happened?”

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaning against the counter. “Tch. Got caught up in some shit.”

You hummed. “What kind of shit?”

Niragi grinned, sharp, mean. “The fun kind.”

Chishiya sighed. “The kind that almost got him killed.”

“The fun kind.” Niragi repeated.

You blinked. “You have a very different definition of fun than I do.”

He laughed. “What, you don’t like a little bloodshed?”

“I don’t like dying.” you said simply.

Chishiya gave you a slow, approving look. “Smart girl.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Guess we just ran into the wrong people at the wrong time. Shit happens.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “Shit does happen.” You turned, handing them plates of food. “How many days do you have?”

This was a test.

A subtle one.

If they lied, you’d know. If they refused to answer, you’d know.

Because you were a therapist.

You knew people

And right now, you knew that Niragi was stalling. Clicking his tongue, leaning back, making a big show of thinking about it.

“Hmmm.” he hummed, exaggerated. “Why do you wanna know, angel? Wanna trade?”

You smiled, too sweet. “No, but I would like to know if you’re about to drop dead in my house.”

Niragi laughed. Loud, sharp, amused as hell.

Chishiya, on the other hand, watched you. Studied you. Then, finally, he spoke “Seven.”

Your eyes flicked to him.

And there it was.

Honesty. Cold, simple, factual honesty.

Chishiya had seven days.

You looked at Niragi expectantly.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. Five.”

You clicked your tongue. “You should be more careful.”

Niragi snorted. “What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, turning back to your own food. “I just don’t wanna clean up a corpse in my living room.”

Chishiya huffed out a quiet laugh. Niragi grinned.

You let the conversation settle after that.

They weren’t cooperative. Not really.

They didn’t trust you. Not completely.

But they answered you.

And that was enough.

For now.

Because you had a plan.

Because right now, in your apartment, you had two wild animals sitting at your table.

One too smart for his own good.

The other too reckless for anyone’s good.

And you were about to leave both of them unsupervised. On purpose. Because you knew exactly what you were doing.

You grabbed your bag, casually tossing a few supplies inside—knife, flashlight, extra cloth, some food. Nothing crazy. It wasn’t going to be a long trip. At least, it shouldn’t be.

Niragi was watching you.

Not subtly.

At first, he just glanced. Quick, uninterested, shoving food into his mouth like a fucking caveman.

But when you grabbed your coat?

When you slung your bag over your shoulder?

That’s when he actually looked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… babe?”

You hummed, fixing the strap. “What?”

“Why the fuck are you getting ready like you’re about to head out?”

You blinked at him. “Because I am?”

Silence.

“The fuck do you mean you are?”

Across from him, Chishiya didn’t react much. He just tilted his head slightly, observing. Like he was just as curious, but not as dumb as Niragi, so he wasn’t about to react like a fucking child.

Niragi, however, had no such restraint.

He squinted at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You sighed. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“To find some supplies.”

He scoffed. “Tch. You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re seriously leaving me and—” He gestured vaguely to Chishiya. “this asshole alone in your house?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a rat.” Niragi turned back to you. “Seriously, you’re leaving?”

“Yes, Niragi.” You threw some light, pretty pink clothing around your shoulders. “I need to go out. I need supplies. I need—” You waved vaguely at the door. “shit.”

He scoffed again. “Tch. What kind of shit?”

You shrugged. “Just things. Food. Bandages. Stuff to keep you two from dying.”

Chishiya hummed. “How responsible.”

“Right?” you quipped. “I should get an award.”

Niragi wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t happy either. Because despite the smug, cocky, overconfident asshole persona—there was something else.

Not concern, no. That wasn’t his style.

More like… uncertainty.

Like he didn’t like the idea of you going out there alone. Not because he cared. No, no, that’s ridiculous.

(At least, he’d tell himself that.)

But because in his fucked-up, messy, unhinged brain—

He didn’t trust the world.

And the idea of you walking out there, all soft and sweet and not a complete fucking psycho like him, probably didn’t sit right with him.

Which is why he leaned back in his chair, sucking his teeth.

“Fine.” he muttered. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

“The fuck is so funny?” he snapped.

You shook your head, still grinning. “You can barely fucking walk, Niragi.”

He bristled. “The fuck I can’t.”

You tilted your head. “Oh, yeah? Stand up.”

His eyes narrowed.

Chishiya actually smirked, sipping his tea. “This will be fun.”

Niragi ignored him. Instead, he grumbled, planted his hands on the table, and pushed himself up—only to sway immediately.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He glared. “I just need a second.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chishiya chuckled.

“You two are both fucking awful.” Niragi muttered, lowering himself back into the chair.

You smiled. Sweet. Almost mocking. “But I’m right.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

You exhaled, adjusting your bag. “I won’t be long.”

Niragi muttered something under his breath, and you almost asked what—but you let it go.

Instead, you turned to Chishiya. He was still watching. Quiet. Unreadable. Like he was picking you apart in his head.

You stared back. After a moment, you spoke.

“You gonna be okay here?”

He blinked once. “I should be asking you that.”

You smirked. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes glittered.

Just a little.

He didn’t say anything else.

You turned back to Niragi. “Try not to kill each other before I get back.”

“No promises.” Niragi muttered.

You sighed. Yeah, you figured.

Then, without another word, you grabbed your coat, pushed open the door, and stepped out, leaving them alone.

And you knew exactly what you were doing.

You had fully prepared yourself for the worst when you returned.

Maybe bloodstains on your fancy-ass couch. Maybe the kitchen completely destroyed. Maybe—just maybe—one of them lying dead in the hallway while the other stood over him. But, to your genuine surprise, the house was still standing.

And even more surprising?

So were both of them.

Chishiya was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through a book he absolutely did not own before today.

And Niragi—who you fully expected to have done something violent or reckless in your absence—was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging over the side, his whole body screaming bored as hell but refusing to admit he waited for you to come back.

They were separated, obviously.

Like two kids on a road trip who couldn’t sit next to each other without starting a war.

But they were here.

Waiting.

Which meant they had not murdered each other.

Wow. Okay. Good.

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “Huh. You didn’t destroy the place.”

Chishiya didn’t look up from his book. “Disappointed?”

You snorted. “Surprised.”

Niragi let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tch. Not my fault.” he muttered. “There was nothing to fucking do.”

You shrugged, setting your bag down on the table. “Well, good news.”

You started unpacking, pulling out a few cans of food, some extra bandages, a couple of bottles of water and a small, cute plushie. You placed it right on the coffee table, right between the two of them.

Silence.

Niragi squinted at it. “What the fuck is that?”

You blinked at him, deadpan. “A bear.”

He continued staring. Like he couldn’t process the fact that, after scavenging for supplies in an almost post-apocalyptic nightmare world, you had come back with a tiny stuffed bear.

Chishiya just hummed. “Interesting choice.”

You grinned. “I thought it was cute.”

Niragi made a face. “What, you gonna start collecting those now?”

“Maybe.” you mused, organizing the supplies. “Maybe I’ll decorate the place.”

Chishiya smirked. “Would be an improvement.”

Niragi snorted.

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

Chishiya didn’t even look up. “I’m just saying, the place is a little sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“You know. Too clean. Too perfect.”

Niragi stretched, cracking his neck. “Yeah, like a rich kid’s hideout.”

You huffed. “I like my place nice.”

Chishiya turned a page. “Mm. Suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes, finally plopping down onto the chair across from Niragi.

“Anyway.” you sighed. “I got supplies. Food. Water. Bandages.”

Niragi snatched a bottle off the table. “Tch. Took you long enough.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere to be?”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Nah. Just missed you, babe.”

You smiled. “Aww, how sweet.”

Niragi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You could make it up to me, you know.”

“Oh? And how would I do that?”

He leaned forward, voice dropping. Suggestive. “Ever heard of a stress reliever?”

Chishiya closed his book. Loudly.

You placed your elbow on the table, chin in your palm, and matched Niragi’s energy effortlessly.

“Hm.” you mused, tilting your head. “I have. You should try one.”

Chishiya snorted.

Niragi blinked. Then laughed. Loud. Sharp. Fucking amused.

You leaned back, stretching your arms. “Anyway. You two can fight over the bedrooms again or sleep out here, I don’t care.”

Niragi scoffed. “Tch. Like I’d share a room with this asshole.”

Chishiya smirked. “I wouldn’t subject you to my presence.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You liked them.

“So, Chishiya.” Niragi drawled, stretching his legs out. “Tell me something.”

Chishiya did not look up. Did not react. Which only fueled Niragi’s need to annoy him.

“If you’re such a genius,” Niragi continued. “how the fuck did you end up half-dead in a ditch, huh?”

Chishiya finally blinked. Slowly. Then sighed.

“Same way you did.” he murmured, flipping through the book again. “By not giving a shit.”

Niragi grinned.

“Oh, no, see, I wasn’t the one who thought I was better than everyone.” he said mockingly. “I wasn’t the one who thought I was too smart to get my ass kicked.”

Chishiya hummed. “No, you were just too dumb to avoid it.”

Niragi laughed. Sharp, amused, but not fucking friendly.

“Cute.” he smirked. “For someone who thinks he’s so fucking smart, you really do make a lot of mistakes.”

Chishiya finally looked up. “And for someone who acts like he’s the biggest in the world you sure ended up in the same situation as me.”

Niragi’s grin twitched.

Your head hit the back of the chair.

Here we go.

Because of course Niragi wasn’t going to let that go. “You wanna repeat that, rat?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Oh? Are your ears failing, too?”

Niragi sat up.

Even injured, even weak, even not at full strength, he still looked like he was one second away from throwing hands.

“You little—”

“No.”

Your voice cut through the air like a knife.

Both of them froze.

Not because you were loud. Not because you yelled.

But because you didn’t.

You were calm.

Too calm.

And that? That was scarier.

“If you two want to keep fighting,” you said, voice light, but firm. “then you can take your asses out of here.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms.

“You can either calm the fuck down,” you continued, sweet, but threatening. “or you can leave. I don’t care which.”

You watched them.

And you knew.

This was the moment.

If they argued—if they scoffed, if they fought back—then that was it.

They were leaving.

They’d be gone.

But if they stayed quiet—if they didn’t say a word—that was their answer.

That was them choosing to stay.

And for people like them? For people who never admitted they needed anyone, who never relied on anybody but themselves, this was big.

Chishiya sighed.

He looked back down at his book.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t leave.

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaned back on the couch, and mumbled, “Tch. Whatever.”

Didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t leave.

They were staying.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #aib niragi #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya

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ghostkingdiangelo429 · 2 days ago

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AHHH. I WANNA DO A FIC ON THIS NOW- I HAVE TOO MANY FICS TO WRITE GUHHH, HOW DARE YOU.

So anyways, I wrote it (in Nico's perspective, ofc)-

Just... Relax...

Jason, former praetor and legionnare. When Roman demigods hear his name, they imagine this perfect, beautiful soldier dedicated to respect an honor. But... in all actuality, he's just awkward. Through and through.

He never had the "Normal Teenage School" coming of age story. As a matter of fact, he had the "I Was Raised By A Literal Pack Of Wolves" coming of age story. I wish I was kidding.

He'd tell me stories of Lupa, the Wolf goddess who trained Roman Demigods before they entered into Camp Jupiter (or really any other Roman Encampment Center), and how she always kept her tight close, yet was so stern with her teachings. You either sank, or you swam in the pack. And Jason?

He swam faster and stronger than any of the others who were trained in her pack.

So, when I found Jason, I was almost expecting him to stand at attention... but no. He was slouching, almost weeping. I reach my hand to touch his shoulder, but I hesitated. "Hey, Grace... You okay?..." I settled.

Jason quickly turned around, very obviously crying. His movements were stiff, although his body was relaxed. He seemed to be more conflicted about his identity than the gods were... "O-oh! Hey, Nico, I uhhh... didn't- didn't see you there," He stuttered out. "Why are you here?"

His tone seemed defensive, but also scared. "I was here because Chiron asked me to get you, for something," I admitted. "But, I'll tell him that you're busy, alright?"

He didn't seem to like that. He stammered and stumbled to his feet. "What? Why?-" He said in a panicked tone. "If Chiron needs me, I'll gladly go to help-" I put my arm in front of him as he tried charging for the door.

"Look, Jason. You're overworked... tired... Everyone keeps asking you to do stuff, and you keep jumping up to your feet every chance you get," I said in a concerned tone. "You're not at Camp Jupiter anymore, you don't need or are expected to do or act the way you're supposed to at Jupiter- at Half-Blood, we know that people have their limits. We know not everyone can be perfect, so we have rules and policies in place to do things so we're not overworked or stressed by the time we need to do a mission or some shit." I slowly let my arm raise from in front of him, and he stayed put. "Listen, Grace, I get it.... you're not sure of where you fit in... trust me, I know that feeling more than any other camper here."

Jason grabbed his arm sheepishly as I continued. "I was born in the actual Rome during one of the demigod wars. Only to be stuck in a time chamber for nearly a hundred years, though I only felt as if only three had passed, just for Percy... and Thalia... And Annabeth and Grover to bring me to Camp Half-Blood where I knew I couldn't fit in...." I said in a soft tone. "No Hades kid could fit in socially and especially a Hades Greek kid born into a place where Roman culture with Roman gods were some of the only things I learned. Especially one that had internalized homoerotic feelings as bad due to the tome he grew up in."

"So I get it. Not fitting in," I said, trying to get my message across. "But I learned I can't do everything by myself, and I learned to relax. So please, just for me Jason... relax. Everything will be fine."

Jason stood there twitching, before bawling his eyes out. He threw his arms around me in a tight hug while his tears soaked the top of my head. That's how I knew he was a son of Zeus: he cried just like stormclouds emptying out themselves of rain.

When he finally let go of me, he said in a hoarse voice, "Thank you, Nico." He smiled, then cleared his throat. "Though, please don't tell anyone about this, I can't have Leo find out and clown on me for 'relaxing'."

I smiled back. "Secret's safe with me, Grace." He gave me one last hug, and off I went.

@kindred-spirit-93 enjoy this segue post while I try and finish rewriting chapter 3 of demigod :p

Jason Grace is awkward.

He's an amazing praetor, stern and serious and diplomatic. He's perfect at Latin, a great son of Jupter, making camp proud. Everything that Camp Jupiter needs him to be, the years of moulding a perfect soldier paid off.

But take him out of the environment of rules and regulation and neat and careful order then he is jsut an awkward mess.

His speech pattern is way too formal for a teenager, and he sucks at actually expressing emotions, so he just looks mean and judgy, and he always looks rigid and slightly scared. He's great and fighting, but everywhere is a battlefield for him. He also sucks at regualr empathy.He's afraid of loud noises, although he won't show it. He's a child soldier through and through and can not relax to save his life. He thinks that chores are fun. His favourite thing is ancient Rome. He knows so so so little about like the wider world and is so oblivious. He panics if anyone breaks the laws of New Rome, and there are a lot of laws in New Rome. He's so awkward. I need to write this.

#THIS WAS SO FUN TO DO. LIKE I'M LITERALLY FROTHING AT THE MOUTH BC OF THIS.#UGHHH THANK YOU INTERNET STRANGER #I literally could give you a hug rn #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fandom #rick riordan #nico di angelo #fanfic #NOT a jasonxnico fic #just two friends looking out for each other :)#my children

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nerdsnuff · 23 hours ago

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⚡️NISHINOYA BOYFRIEND HC’S

my first haikyuu love… still love him btw thats my BABE who deserves more love

𓅪 does not hide his feelings. at all. he WILL be the one to confess. no buts. on a random day and not even fully planned… just blurts it out impulsively.

you were getting the last of your things in your locker before you finally head home for the day, imagine your surprise when you see nishinoya next to you when you closed your locker door. he simply laughs as you yelp, heart almost bursting out. “hahah! sorry for scaring you! i just really wanted to talk to you. walk to the gate with me?” he offers. though you’re jokingly still ticked off you agree anyways, letting him know with a nod. once you’re done you two head off, the wind is nice and cool this afternoon. “so… there’s something i wanna tell you…” he suddenly stops, so you do too. unexpectedly he raises his voice, startling you once more. “YOU’RE SUPER COOL AND I KNOW THIS IS SUDDEN BUT PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!”

𓅪 both before and after dating he talks to tanaka all about you all the time. thankfully the guy is never annoyed. and yes he did wingman nishinoya, probably the guy to convince him to just go for it and confess. they’re both pretty intense about their feelings… anyway just imagine the absolute hype when you accept his confession.

𓅪 guard dog boyfriend FR! will not let ANYONE bother you. people hitting on you? jumped. bullies? jumped? some person simply pissing you off? JUMPED. he has a bit of a problem controlling his temper sometimes… you often have to tell him off when he doesn’t realize that backing off is simply a better solution.

𓅪 speaking of guard dog, would absolutely love to take you home as far as he could! if you use the bus then he’ll take you to the stop (though would hop on with you if he could…), if you guys live near each other hell yeah he’d walk you home

𓅪 buys you treats after school!!! loves spoiling you with little snacks. candy, ice cream, cheap cakes, etc. mostly sweets. always takes you to go to coach ukai’s store every after school! he basically remembers what you look like now and teases the two of you.

𓅪 biggest simp like goddamn bro. he isn’t even into romcoms but if he was he’d be doing all the extra shit he sees. that can’t take my eyes off you’ performance from 10 things i hate about you? absolutely he’d do that. he WOULD learn french for you. which is crazy ‘cus he literally struggles to learn englishcough

𓅪 WILL tackle hug you. yes, even if he’s sweaty… can you blame him? he just can’t contain all the love he has for his darling partner!

𓅪 about petnames… 100% a “babe” guy. i mean he’ll call you other things but babe just slips out so much easier for him.

𓅪 he does need help in class but most of the time acts like he doesn’t just to seem cooler. but if it gets real bad he will go to you for help, it doesn’t matter if you’re smarter than him or not.

𓅪 invites you out almost every weekend. unless it’s a busy week or a busy week is coming up, then you guys just call from home.

“y’know, i really wanted to take you cycling today, but i seriously gotta study…” he sighs and adjusts the phone on his ear, causing scratched noises to be heard from his line. “oh yeah, i’m going to tokyo next week! ahah, yeah! i gotta study hard so i can actually go though, wouldn’t let me pass with a bad grade” you hear him chuckle, along with the sound of papers ruffling. “mmhm, it’s a training camp for volleyball” he then unexpectedly pauses for a moment, the unfamiliar silence makes your eyebrow quirk up. though in a quick second, his voice shoots up again. “actually, ryuu’s coming over to study with me soon… wanna join!?”

#🧇#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #nishinoya yuu #yuu nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader

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anas-aspiration · 3 days ago

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HEY can u do abby taking care of reader when theyre really sick?! thankss smmm

Abby x sick!reader

You stare at the clock—3:45 PM. Time drags, making your afternoon unbearable. Your body aches, weighed down by fever and exhaustion. The floor around your bed is littered with crumpled tissues and discarded Vitamin D packets, proof of the cold that caught up to you faster than expected. You knew something was going around, but you didn’t think it would take you out like this.

Outside your window, the world moves on without you. Pedestrians shuffle along the sidewalks, cars pass in a steady pattern, all oblivious to your misery. You sink deeper into your blankets, but even that turns against you—the sun pouring through the glass makes it feel like you’re burning alive. You groan, shifting uncomfortably just as you hear soft footsteps approaching from the kitchen.

Abby.

She enters with ease, balancing a mug of steaming tea and a fresh snack on your bedside table. Without hesitation, she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, only to pull back.

“Christ, baby, you’re burning up.” Her brows knit together out of concern.

You exhale a heavy sigh. “S’cause of the blankets,” you mumble. “And the sun.”

Without another word, you shove the covers off desperate for relief. The cool air kisses your fevered skin, and you savor it—for about two seconds. Then, as if on cue, a violent sneeze overtakes you, forcing you forward.

“Oh my god, I’m literally miserable,” you whine, voice thick with congestion.

Abby doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease. She just shakes her head and hands you a tissue, her fingers brushing yours with a comforting warmth. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright, just keep resting,” she soothes. “I’m right here, okay? Whatever you need.”

You nod, too exhausted to respond properly, and blow your nose with enough force to shake the bed. Abby chuckles softly and then starts digging through your sheets, fishing around until she retrieves the TV remote. You watch as she flips through the channels, her presence a quiet reassurance.

Truthfully, there isn’t much she can do except be here, offering warmth, care, and distraction. And though she hates seeing you sick, there’s a part of her that secretly loves moments like these—moments where she can care for you in a way no one else can. It’s a quiet kind of pride, knowing she’s the only one who truly understands how to comfort you, the only one who would sit here for hours, making sure you have everything you need.

She doesn’t ask what you want to watch right away. Instead, she glances over, watching you with soft eyes as you slump deeper into your pillows. And as miserable as you feel, there’s an undeniable sense of peace in knowing that, no matter how awful this cold gets, Abby isn’t going anywhere.

A/n!! I’m actually sick righr now hahahah.. anyways hope everyone’s had a great valentines day! I also have updated my masterlist and added a section to show what i am working on right now

#abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby x you #abby x reader #abby the last of us

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sadlynotthevoid · 3 days ago

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Tbh, ever since I saw this one anime scene in youtube where an old man told (who i suppose was) the mc of course he'd recognize his own son, he's his dad (as in, he noticed the person in the body wasn't his own son anymore), I think my expectatives went a bit way too up.

That said, I think what bothered me wasn't that no one noticed he changed, but that they did and, at least in Krs!Cale's side, no one went to him about it.

I mean, team 1's first thought when Heniroksoo exhibited not-rok soo behaviour was going to check on him to see if he was okay. They were concerned for his health, thinking he could have hit his head or something.

Meanwhile in Krs!Cale's side, people didn't worry until he went and ended up getting hurt. Which, valid. Most of them didn't meet him until the soul swap had already happened. But his family saw him suddenly start to act strange and went like "oh well" and Deruth specifically was "oh well, I have more urgent matters to take care of". Sir??? that's your damn son!

And like, I know they noticed he changed but— *frustrated noises* it gave off the impression that they were relieved. And if they had talked about it and gotten the impression that Cale just changed, matured, whatever, it wouldn't bother me. But they didn't (at least I don't remember they doing so, or they didn't as far as I read. No, sending your butler to stalk him doesn't count. Not all issues can be told at first sight), they just shrugged and kept with their day. It gives me the feeling that they thought of him like you think of troublesome matters you don't want to deal with. Like, "as long as is not a problem". (To be fair, I really don't expect Bassen or Lily to have such talk with their older brother. They're kids. But Deruth is his father—)

And also, or what they know there could had been a problem, just one they didn't notice or that didn't cause trouble as his usual self. I mean, team 1 was into something, he could have hit his head. He could have been blackmailed and the behaviour being a side effect of seeing just one side of the picture. It's a fantasy world, he could have been possessed by a ghost or something. He could have decided to complete a bucket list (which actually makes sense btw). Uh, I really don't know about this but maybe a personality disorder? They didn't really know what was going on. But they also didn't really cared until Cale started to get hurt, which was after he changed so... Yeah, it bothers me because it makes me feel bad for OgCale.

Now I need an AU where they don't exchange bodies, but OgCale's starts acting odd anyways. Like, toning down his lout behaviour, being less harsh and so, maybe doing strange stuff but that doesn't really affect them. And turns out he's completing a bucket list or got amnesia and is trying to hide it.

And his family and such don't start to worry until way later on, when the realization something big happened hits them in the face (let's be real, I mostly mean Deruth and any other responsible adult). Luckily, Rok Soo (maybe ogCale's new friend, maybe a classmate or coworker, maybe the guy from ogCale's usual cafe) got involved way earlier and they (as in Rok Soo, whoever comes with him, and OgCale) were handling it.

Sometimes i forget everyone *did* notice something was up when cale and og cale switched in both worlds. Team 1 noticed, but also literally everyone at the henituse fief. Its just that noone is abt to guess “a person from another world took over his body”, the most supernatural thing ppl might have guessed would prolly be “he got three ghosts of christmased”

#when i say no one noticed he wa not the same person i mean they give zero fucks until krscale got hurt #I'm not saying they should have made a big fuss #making a big fuss when someone is trying to change can be discouraging #I'm saying that if your teenage son suddenly changes his personality you should talk with him in private #carefully but doing it anyways #even if the change seems positive #bc you don't know what's going on in his head #imagine if he thinks he's going to be kicked out or is not causing trouble bc he doesn't have the energy go to do so #in OgCale's case. before the tine travel+soul swap. he was hoping to be removed from heir position #he kinda hoped for his own social ruin #is not “there's something up with him” *narrows eyes and does nothing*#is “there's something up with him” *coomunicates with him*#but alas #the henituse family wasn't really good at it #communication i mean #original cale henituse #lcf #og cale henituse #og cale #yes i'm salty #they noticing but not doing anything bothers me more then they not noticing #team 1 was really touching in that sense #they were genuinely concerned as goofy as it seemed

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theocddiaries · 3 days ago

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[At GUN, in the elevator, Knuckles is holding a tupperware while talking on the phone] Knuckles: Hello? Yeah, it's me. Do you have the budget to fix my boiler? … 1200 rings!? …Sir, I want hot water coming out of my shower, not whiskey and coke, alright? Hello?? [looks at his phone and shrugs]: Guess the call got cut off. [The elevator dings, and Knuckles steps out. He heads straight to the break room, where Shadow is.] Shadow: What, now you're the one bringing Rouge's lunch? Knuckles: Yep. Shadow: Give me, thank you. Knuckles: Hm. Hey Shadow, if Rouge is like your sister and Sonic is like my brother, does that make us brothers-in-law? Shadow: I suppose. Knuckles: And as brothers-in-law, we can ask each other for favours, right? Shadow: What do you need? Knuckles: 1200 rings. Shadow: Good luck getting them. Knuckles: Thanks, bro-in-law. Wait-- [Abraham enters] Knuckles: Commander, do you have 1200 rings you can give me?? Abraham: …Yeah, sure. [pretends to hold a pencil and writes on air]: Here, I’m writing you an invisible check… [pretends to hand it over]: …that you can cash it at the Bank of Imagination. Knuckles: Oh, thanks… [looks at his hands]: Oh, crap, I lost it! [Shadow and Abraham exchange a look] Knuckles: Well, doesn’t matter, I don’t even know where the Bank of Imagination is anyway…

#incorrect quotes #sth #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #knuxouge #sonadow #abraham tower #commander tower #sonic #sonic fandom

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milky-rozen · 2 days ago

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I made a poll on Instagram asking my followers about the biggest misconceptions in Egyptian mythology, and here’s what they had to say! I’ve organized the list based on the number and popularity of the responses:

ENNEAD has spread so much misinformation that now people think that not only is the manhwa 100% accurate, but also that Osiris is a bad guy and Horus and Set have always been nothing but lovers.

Set is an evil god… just like Sekhmet and Khonsu (thanks, MARVEL).

Anubis and the other underworld deities are evil, and the Duat is basically hell.

Some gods are purely evil, while others are too good to be true.

The Egyptian gods are just like the Greek ones and have simple, one-dimensional roles (e.g., Hathor is only the goddess of beauty and love, Thoth is just the god of knowledge, etc.).

The gods are actually ALIENS 🤯

They all have animal heads.

Anubis is the only underworld deity.

Bastet and Anubis are overrated (pop culture has to be blamed here).

"The Egyptians believed that the most significant thing you could do in your life was die!"

Horus is just one god/Horus the Younger and Horus the Elder are the same god.

Now,

On a personal note, I blame laziness and fandom culture as the biggest sources of these misconceptions. Of course, there’s more to it than meets the eye, and I’m oversimplifying a lot here for the sake of not writing a whole essay on the matter (lol), but I couldn’t help noticing a pattern. Pop culture, Hollywood, and the media in general are taken way too seriously these days. People don’t go beyond the handful of sources they’re familiar with, yet they still feel entitled to argue with others based on that limited knowledge they have at hand.

Unfortunately, Egyptian mythology isn’t easy to approach, especially without understanding its cultural context. Its particularistic nature (where myths and deities can vary depending on the region, time period, or religious shifts) makes it especially confusing for those who are used to other enstablished and more unified mythological canons out there. So, in a way, I get where some people are coming from. It’s not always easy to dive into something so complex right from the start! But on the other hand,,, I think people should learn to embrace the complexity of mythology instead of always taking the easy route! Anyway, that’s all I had to share! Do you have any other misconceptions you'd like to add to the list? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

#egyptian mythology #egyptian gods #milky says

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seitmai · 2 days ago

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Ahh so many thoughts

“I’m not going back on what I said, Steve. If you ask me, I’m ready.” Steve couldn’t believe his luck. “How much is that promise worth to you, Peach? Because when I make a promise, I keep it.”

“Well, I need you to trust me. And I need to ask you a question." “Understood.” Steve kneeled at the side of the bed, those eyes focused on you. He looked like a little boy. And then he asked you a very grown up question.

Ahhh I love the comparison of him looking like a little boy asking a grown up question 😍

“This place is… it’s amazing, Steve. I can’t believe we just did that.” “More amazing now that you’re here. And you better believe it.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I have something for you…a wedding gift”

Wedding gift? Have I missed something lmao?

“That’s what we are. It’s what you do for me. Make me want to be a better man.” You exhaled, your lips parting slightly as you turned around in his arms. “Steve. You are a good man. You’re just doing things in a slightly unconventional way. You’re talking to the queen of unconventional. Remember where we met?”

Haha fair

“You’ve been hanging around Bucky too long.” Steve chuckled, tilting your chin up with a knuckle. He was happy. “You’re right. But anyway, the necklace is for tomorrow, I mean the Gala tonight. Something to remind you that no matter who else is in the room... you’re my wife."

Ahhh i can't with them

"You have a dance studio?" "You have a dance studio," he corrected. "I arranged for it to be started while we were in Hilton Head and it was just finished yesterday. I wanted you to have a place to move. To feel free while you’re in Brooklyn."

He knew right away what he wants and went the extra mile before being sure it would work

You went to the pole and grabbed it and leaned out, checking it. It was sturdy and conditioned. You twirled a little and came to rest, the pole between the ass cheeks of your leggings. Steve’s look became hungry, and his cock jumped in his sweats. If he was thinking of sleep earlier, he was wide awake now. And some parts of him were more awake than others.

🤭🤭🤭

“So… you had a dance studio built, for me, while we were in Hilton Head? Me, a woman who was threatening your life?”

Iconic behavior of both of them hahah

“No touching unless I give permission. That’s the rule in Peach’s Parlor.” Steve cocked his head, grinning now. “Peach’s Parlor? So you like it? You taking ownership of the place?”

Duhh she's taking ownership

He was putting the cart before the horse, but he wanted to be your baby daddy so bad. He head was in the clouds as you hooked one leg around the pole, arching your back as you slid downward in a controlled descent, your body moving with the music, sensual and confident.

This is literally not putting the cart before the horse for those two 😅 after this wedding that apparently happened, her already being pregnant would not be out of the ordinary, like true to them they should already have a three year old or something, talking about unconventional 😂

Steve almost got lost there, but when you whispered, “Good boy,” he forgot how to breathe. He didn't know he liked that. but the fact that you'd guessed it made you even more perfect for him.

🤭🤭🤭

“Fuck, Peach… You trying to kill me?” Steve murmured, his voice low and rough. “We just got married.” “How is it you married me, and I hadn’t even sucked your cock yet?” Steve chuckled and then got serious. “Must be true love.”

Must be 🤷🏻‍♀️🤭

When he saw that you were going to kneel, he quickly moved a pillow from the chaise for you to settle in front of him. He then lifted his hips from the couch and pulled down his sweats and boxers in one move.

Thoughtful and ready to go at once

Inspired, you took him as far as you could, until your lips were stretched to the limit and tears coursed down your face. You inhaled the musky scent of him in the hair at the base of his cock and looked back up to watch his contracting abs and heaving chest, his open mouth and those mesmerizing eyes. This was a fucking beautiful man.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

“You’re a fucking goddess. Wanna cum down your throat, Peach, but don’t swallow our kids. Need ‘em inside you.”

Someone is really eager to be a dad👀

“Can’t waste a drop.” “You are filthy slut, Mr. Rogers.” He laughed. “Only for you, Mrs. Rogers.”

They are a perfect match 🤭

"This isn’t a race. I’m never gonna be jealous of you, girl.” You grinned back. “I’m pissed that I wasn’t able to be there, though.” You sighed. Your one regret.

Valid

“Because when I’m with him, it makes sense. The way he looks at me, the way he is with me—it doesn’t feel rushed. It just feels… right.”

🥹🥹🥹

“I know you think that I feel some kind of way, but I know you girl. I was shocked, but not surprised..” She laughed and you shook your head. “Running off and getting married is so you. It’s so Steve too when you think about it.”

She's like: bitch, I saw this one coming 😂

“You’re right,” she replied. I’m secure. It will happen. And just at the right time for us. And no matter what, Peach. You are never gonna lose me as your biggest fan, no matter what.”

I'm sure the wait won't be long 🤭

You hugged each other so hard, the stylists had to touch you back up.

I'm sure it was a great, much needed hug 🫶🏻

“No comment?” Steve exhaled, stepping closer, his voice rough around the edges. “You already know, Mrs. Rogers.”

👀👀👀

“You know if you keep giving me gifts like this, you’re going to spoil me.” His eyes darkened, and his hand came to rest on your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. “That’s the plan,” he murmured, voice low, “Mrs. Rogers.”

He is ready to spoil her rotten

"You're going to get enough of watching us like a drama." "Never. You two are my favorite romcom."

Fair haha

Sharon was clearly not happy, but fuck that bitch.

Period!

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Steve tactfully removed his arm from her grasp while the fingers on his other hand reached for you and rested low on your back, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate circle against the sequined fabric of your gown. “It’s been two days, Sharon,” he replied, his tone clipped. And annoyed.

I can feel Steve rolling his eyes haha

Your cousin and Bucky moved closer, probably because she clocked what was going on.

They are ready for the drama 😂🤭

“You know what’s really refreshing, Sharon? Watching a woman who wants to fuck around with me and my family and find out.”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Bucky stepped forward as Sharon’s jaw twitched into a twisted smile. Bucky whispered in your cousin's ear. She glared at him and started taking off her jewelry, handing her earrings to him. Bucky shook his head and pulled her to the side while she gave him the business.

Hahaha was she getting ready to throw some punches??

Steve pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, not bothering to lower his voice when he said, “I’ll remind you how much I love that later.” Your cousin groaned dramatically. “You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.”

“Do you think calling me a stripper is an insult?” Your voice was strong and steady. “I own what I do. I’m damn good at what I do. And you?” You looked her up and down, eyebrow deadly. “You’re standing here, burning because even with your family ties, and your desperate little designer dress, the only woman Steve wants is me. He married me.” You leaned in even closer. “The difference between us? I don’t have to chase him. I just have to walk into a room.” You smiled at her sweetly. “And he follows.”

The way I screamed reading this 👏🏻

🤭🤭🤭

Peach VII

Peach VI | Peach VIII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Do you leave there single or a married woman?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I have all of the words and none of the confidence. Oh I hope you like it. It may not be everyone's cup of tea. This is part one of the Valentine's weekend bundle. I hope you like it. Let me know my LOVEs! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach VI. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Steve Rogers is rich, bitches!, the big one bling, the event! stripping, pole dancing, lap dancing, sloppy blow job, is this Subby!Steve? woman on top, nipple play (m receiving), size kink, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, a lil bit of cum play. Family feeeelings, Bucky being Bucky, Steve being a simp, jealous bitches, almost catching a case at a gala.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

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“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

“Is that what you want?” Steve said as his hands gripped your waist.

You couldn't look away from his eyes which were deeply searching yours.

When you moved your hand to his chest, his heart thudded through the muscle and the bone to your fingertips.

You nodded and marveled at how far you both had come in such a short amount of time.

You were sure.

“I’m not going back on what I said, Steve. If you ask me, I’m ready.”

Steve couldn’t believe his luck.

“How much is that promise worth to you, Peach? Because when I make a promise, I keep it.”

His beautiful deep velvet voice had you swooning in his arms.

“Everything. It’s worth everything, Steve.”

It was unthinkable what you were feeling. But it was oh so right.

Steve’s look was so serious for a moment and then he kissed you again. He flipped you over, torso pinning yours down, abs between your legs. You whined with need as he kissed you, tenderly, his fingers tracing your face.

Then he pulled away.

“Get dressed, Peach.”

“What?

“Get dressed. Pack up. You’re checking out of the hotel.'

You looked at him and cocked your eyebrow.

“Oh. Am I?”

Steve chuckled at your sass. It was so cute. Then he pulled you close and whispered in your ear.

“Yes. You are. Remember I said that I was going to give you what you need, when you need it?”

You shivered at the way Steve handled you.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

“Well, I need you to trust me. And I need to ask you a question."

“Understood.”

Steve kneeled at the side of the bed, those eyes focused on you. He looked like a little boy.

And then he asked you a very grown up question.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the corridor to Steve’s penthouse at the top of the Rebirth building. There were two doors on the entire hallway, both mirroring each other.

Steve walked beside you to one of the entrances, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back, a touch both casual and possessive.

Your mouth dropped open when the door opened on floor-to-ceiling windows framing the Manhattan skyline.

The view went on forever.

"Jesus, Steve. This is… Beautiful!"

Your eyes shone as you turned in a circle to take in the room.

"Wait until you see the rest."

You were wandering now, your fingertips trailing over the sleek countertops, the rich leather of his couch, and the curated artwork lining the walls. Everything about the space was sophisticated, masculine, Steve.

You wondered how you could lend your touch.

Steve had gone into another room, his bedroom, you imagined, to put your things down. He came up behind you as you stared out of the window, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kissed your neck as you leaned your head back on his chest.

“This place is… it’s amazing, Steve. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“More amazing now that you’re here. And you better believe it.”

“I have something for you…a wedding gift”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, bringing it in front of you.

The diamonds on your hand glittered and caught your eye as you reached to touch what was inside. It was a necklace with double diamond solitaires, one cushion cut and one pear shaped, nestled side by side on a thin, gleaming chain.

A moi et toi design.

To match your ring.

You blinked up at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye. He pecked you on the lips.

“Steve…”

He reached out, and plucked the necklace from the box. His fingers brushed the nape of your neck as he draped it around you.

“Moi et toi,” he murmured near your ear. “Me and you.”

You swallowed, your fingers rising to touch the stones on your skin as you gazed out on the city.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Two stones side by side; one strengthens the other.”

His thumb brushed over your collarbone, tracing the edge of the necklace.

“That’s what we are. It’s what you do for me. Make me want to be a better man.”

You exhaled, your lips parting slightly as you turned around in his arms.

“Steve. You are a good man. You’re just doing things in a slightly unconventional way. You’re talking to the queen of unconventional. Remember where we met?”

There you were, being adorable again. The way you’d fought him up until this week made Steve stand in disbelief at how accepting you were of him. And how easily you’d run off with him to Connecticut tonight to become his wife.

It was crazy, but it was so right.

“I do. I seem to recall meeting you in heaven, because all I remember thinking is ‘who is this angel.’”

You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“You’ve been hanging around Bucky too long.”

Steve chuckled, tilting your chin up with a knuckle. He was happy.

“You’re right. But anyway, the necklace is for tomorrow, I mean the Gala tonight. Something to remind you that no matter who else is in the room... you’re my wife."

You swallowed at the octave drop in Steve’s voice and he traced your throat with his thumb as you did it. Steve gathered you to him, pressing his lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered into your ear.

“Come with me, there’s something else I want to show you. "

He grabbed your hand and led you down a hallway.

You followed until he stopped and turned to you with a mischievous grin. Then, he opened the door behind his back and backed in so he could watch your face. Curious, you followed him inside.

Then you froze.

It was a good sized space. Mirrors lined one entire wall, reflecting the soft glow of LED track lighting. You stepped out on the wood floor and realized that it was made from premium materials.

But what really caught your attention was the sleek, stainless-steel pole standing tall in the center of the room. You turned slowly, meeting Steve's expectant gaze.

"You have a dance studio?"

"You have a dance studio," he corrected.

"I arranged for it to be started while we were in Hilton Head and it was just finished yesterday. I wanted you to have a place to move. To feel free while you’re in Brooklyn."

You went to the pole and grabbed it and leaned out, checking it. It was sturdy and conditioned. You twirled a little and came to rest, the pole between the ass cheeks of your leggings.

Steve’s look became hungry, and his cock jumped in his sweats. If he was thinking of sleep earlier, he was wide awake now.

And some parts of him were more awake than others.

“So… you had a dance studio built, for me, while we were in Hilton Head? Me, a woman who was threatening your life?”

The way you smiled at him made Steve’s heart flutter. He nodded and came close and tried to kiss you, but you twirled away from him to the other side of the pole. He flashed you a smile and your butterflies started up again.

“It was right after you threatened to shoot my balls off. I knew you had it bad.”

Steve sighed as if he was nostalgic for your death threats. You laughed as Steve grabbed for you again.

You scooted away from him.

“Don’t touch, Mr. Rogers,” you admonished as your finger wagged in front of those lips.

Then you pointed, and Steve followed your hand as if mesmerized. He was the one who had it bad.

“Why don’t you sit down so I can test this thing out? Haven’t had a proper dance workout all week.”

Steve nodded and went to sit down on the chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

You stepped forward, and your pulse quickened as you held Steve’s gaze. He leaned back against the back of the chaise, arms crossed over his broad chest, and his t-shirt straining across his shoulders, biceps, and chest.

His blue eyes were focused with an intensity that sent a shiver through your body.

"Music?" you prompted.

Steve smirked and tapped his phone. A pulsating beat filled the room, the bass vibrating beneath your feet, and causing your hips to sway. You didn’t have your heels and you were in loungewear, but one of those things was to your advantage.

You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, teasing a glimpse of your skin as you swayed to the music.

Steve’s eyes darkened and his breath visibly slowed.

You took your time, dragging the cotton up your body as you shimmied, baring the skin of your stomach, then your bra, then your collarbones as your head was hidden for half a second.

You winked when you emerged and you moved closer as you leaned over him and placed your garment on the lounge next to him.

Steve didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his jaw clenched, and you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

Then, you turned around, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your leggings and looked over your shoulder to find him staring at your ass and licking his lips. Steve looked up at you, his blue eyes burning now as you smirked at him and peeled the black material down to reveal your flesh, in black lace, bent fully at the waist.

Steve’s hands twitched for want of reaching out. He exhaled sharply, restraint hanging by a thread.

You straightened up slowly, twerking and slapping your own ass, holding a cheek so that he could see the lace-clothed split of you. You shot him a saucy wink as you stepped out of your clothing, pushing it aside with the tip of your toe before slowly running your hands down your body.

You brought your hands up to your face, sliding them down your neck to your chest, then your sides, letting your fingers skim over your ribs, down your stomach, then back up, skirting along your bra and pulling your nipples through the fabric.

Steve made a low sound in his throat, his control cracking.

It was just as he decided to reach out to touch you that you walked toward the pole on tip toes, the only way you knew how to do it.

“No touching unless I give permission. That’s the rule in Peach’s Parlor.”

Steve cocked his head, grinning now.

“Peach’s Parlor? So you like it? You taking ownership of the place?”

He was proud that you seemed pleased. You smiled back at him in response, exhaling and letting the rhythm take you.

You started with a slow walk around the pole, each step deliberate, your hips swaying just enough to raise the temperature of his blood degree by degree.

His smile dropped and his jaw tightened, but he didn’t move, his restraint evident in every rigid line of his body as his eyes followed your every move

You reached up, gripping the pole above your head, then lifted yourself effortlessly, letting momentum carry you into a slow spin. The world blurred for a moment, the mirrors reflecting your every movement as you let your legs extend, toes pointed, body fluid.

The way you moved was unhurried, deliberate, and so alluring. Steve sighed and bent his head to the side, taking you in. Then he bit his lip, remembering how you felt around him earlier. You felt so fucking good, your sweet, hot pussy pulsing around him.

The way your muscles flexed and relaxed, the roll of your hips was mesmerizingly beautiful. You were performing your art for Steve, moving for his pleasure.

But you were in control.

And it made Steve remember that this is what it was that made him fall for you in the first place. Damn, he wanted you, and even though you were only steps away, it was driving him crazy.

When you reached the floor, you dropped to your knees, your thighs spread, fingers skimming down your skin as you stared at him.

Steve rubbed his hands on his pants to ease the itch of his fingers wanting to grasp you.

You stood and grabbed the pole once more, swinging around in another smooth, effortless climb. You wrapped your legs around the metal, suspended for a moment, before twisting into an elegant descent, your body brushing against the pole in a way that made Steve’s balls ache.

When you landed, you moved toward him on tiptoe again, all legs and glistening body, hips swaying, eyes locked onto his.

Steve only moved to put his hands on the back of the lounge, but other than that he was still.

In a graceful move, you straddled him carefully, knees on either side of his slim hips. You were close enough for him to feel your warmth, but were barely touching him. The heat coming from your core made him feral and his eyes were drawn downward to the source.

You felt a tremendous power, so you reached for his chin and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes.

Steve almost got lost there, but when you whispered, “Good boy,” he forgot how to breathe. He didn't know he liked that. but the fact that you'd guessed it made you even more perfect for him.

He covered a whimper by clearing his throat. A secret smile was on your lips as you slowly rolled your hips and arched your back, your nipples barely grazing his chest.

Steve's eyes were everywhere, watching everything, especially your tits, which were so hard and beautiful through the lace.

He felt like if he could just to suck them for a minute, everything in the world would be alright.

A minute each.

Maybe an hour.

Steve's breath was hot against your skin, but he still hadn’t touched you. His grip on the chaise tightened, his control hanging by a thread.

You ran your fingers down your body before leaning backward and grazing his thighs and it was just enough to plan out the pattern of his skeet along your skin. He was sure, with practice, he could spell out his name.

In one fluid movement, you turned around, pressing your back to his chest, and, lightly, so lightly, too lightly, ground against his rigid cock with slow, deliberate precision.

Steve felt delirious and close to expiring.

“Fuck, Peach… You trying to kill me?” Steve murmured, his voice low and rough. “We just got married.”

Married!

You looked over your shoulder at him and moved your lips close to his, smiling as you saw the muscles in his corded neck tense. You leaned in, your lips hovering near his ear.

“You're so good for me Stevie… Such a good... big... boy.”

You twerked the last three words in his lap, causing him to exhale sharply and his hands to twitch. You arched, rolling your body against his again.

And then.

Finally, finally, you let yourself sink into his lap, pressing fully against his cock. He could feel your moist pussy lips through layers of fabric.

And that’s when Steve’s restraint snapped.

His hands shot to your waist, gripping hard, his fingers digging into your skin. You leaned back and his lips found your shoulder, his breath uneven.

You smirked and turned around, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer beneath your touch.

Steve crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your laughter in a kiss that was deep and desperate. His hands roamed your body, tracing lace, his need evident in every touch.

“My sweet Peach. Mrs. Rogers,” he growled against your skin, voice thick with hunger.

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make his head tilt back.

“Yesss. Say Heyyyy, Mrs. Rogers…,” you teased.

One hand clasped his throat, squeezing his Adam's apple lightly as his blue eyes shone from his slitted lids. Steve's cock pulsed in his pants, then he took a ragged breath before he spoke.

“Heyyyyyy. Mrs. Rogers...”

You rolled your hips against his impressive bulge as Steve’s baritone rumbled in your ear. As you reached for the hem of his shirt, he kissed you, grabbing the collar to take it off.

You looked at Steve appreciatively as you bent and licked one erect nipple, then wrapped your lips around the tiny button, pulling it into your mouth and eliciting a small groan from him. You took your time, enjoying his sounds which got louder and louder.

"Such a good boy making those pretty sounds for me, Stevie."

You licked, sucked and savored him as you alternated from one pec to the other.

“Wanna always be good for you, Peach...”

Steve gritted it out as you grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into a filthy, long, deep kiss. He grabbed for you and held on as your mouth plundered his.

Then you pulled away.

“I have a question, Mr. Rogers,” you unclasped your bra, then leaned forward and stuffed your nipple into his mouth, moaning as he looked up at you with those clear blue eyes and sucked enthusiastically.

“How is it you married me, and I hadn’t even sucked your cock yet?”

Steve chuckled and then got serious.

“Must be true love.”

You felt his cock pound between your legs and knew what had to happen. His fingernails scratched your thighs trying to hold on to you as you moved back to stand.

His erection sprung out and you licked your lips, ready to finally feel the smooth skin in your mouth.

"Touch yourself for me, Stevie."

Steve took himself in hand and started stroking from base to head, thumb swiping the drops of precum in passing. His burning gaze was on you but your eyes were glued to what was in his fist.

“Fuck that’s hot… Wan’ taste you,” you were whining now, feeling deprived.

“..Whatever you want.” Steve whispered in a strained voice after looking into those big, beautiful eyes.

You ran your fingers over his thick dick all the way down to the heavy, tight balls.

“So pretty…”

You kept eye contact as you leaned in and gave him a long, wet lick from balls to head. Your tongue rolled over the soft skin of the large mushroom cap, taking in the dewey drops leaking from it.

You licked down the hard shaft, until you reached the base and ran your tongue over his large sac.

You began sucking on his tip, tonguing underneath, and humming around his head, causing Steve to murmur, “Fffeels so fucking good, Peach.”

He was carding his fingers through your hair as he said it.

This was a fucking beautiful man.

Steve’s big hands gathered your hair and held it, just tight enough to send a zing to your clit.

“Peachhhhh, that mouth is good.”

Steve was in love with how you sucked him off. He rolled his hips and found out just how snug your throat really was. When you pulled off, tears were rolling down your face.

He wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"Y' look so fucking pretty like this, Peach.”

The way you took him all when you deep throated him again sent the cum crawling up his balls.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Shit.”

You pulled off and released him with a filthy plop, watching as he desperately squeezed his cock at the base, trying to stop the impending explosion.

He reached out for you with his other hand and you climbed up onto his lap as he marveled at your messy hair, your bouncing tits, and fucked out expression.

“You’re a fucking goddess. Wanna cum down your throat, Peach, but don’t swallow our kids. Need ‘em inside you.”

The tip of his cock nudged your entrance, and you reached down and grabbed it, perfecting its position as you sank down on it.

You both watched in fascination as your pussy engulfed him preceded by the juices from your wet pussy. Steve’s hands grabbed onto your hips, and you wanted him to bruise you, to have a mark on you from this for days.

Your head lolled back on your shoulders as you glided down on your Steve's, thick cock. He lifted you by your waist and alternated fucking you up and down his dick and thrusting into you, hitting angles he hadn't before.

His grunts and your moans were beautiful music.

“Please look at me, Peach.”

His tone was reverent and you couldn't help but obey. The sounds you two were making sent you right to the edge of a precipice.

“Oh… right…there… right fucking there!”

You keened as you scratched the skin on his shoulders and biceps.

“Fucking me so good, Stevie…So righttt. N-need you to keep hitting it like that…give it to me just like that. All your cum. Inside me.”

He was hitting those bundles of nerves just right.

“You need it like that hunh? I'll give it to you until it drips out of you... Need it dripping down my gotdamn balls....”

And he proceeded to fuck up into you perfectly. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his hair and you leaned in for a filthy kiss. He gripped your throat and carefully squeezed to control your airflow. Your eyes began to roll and your cunt clenched down on him. Hard.

"Ffuckk, " He had to grit his teeth to keep from cumming. "Need you to fucking cum, Peach....."

“I- I’m close Stevieeee. Ahhh. Give it. Gonna have all your babies….”

Your pussy started clenching around him.

“Holy FUCK!”

Steve picked you up and placed you on the chaise, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he drilled into you. He slid a hand between you and rubbed your clit in soul-destroying circles.

“Drain these fucking balls...shhhhhitttttt!"

You clutched him close as you felt his cock start and continue to spurt hot cum inside you. As he softened, he sat back on his heels and spread your legs to watch his cum drip out of you. He trailed two fingertips down your sensitive slit and pushed it back inside you, all the while a sly grin on his face.

He caught your eye.

“Can’t waste a drop.”

“You are filthy slut, Mr. Rogers.”

He laughed.

“Only for you, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve grabbed his t-shirt to clean you both up a bit. Next thing you knew, you were being carried out of the studio and through to his master bedroom

It was daylight when you were lightly snoring in his arms and Steve was grinning wide, his wife in his arms.

—

The next afternoon, you sat in front of the vanity in Bucky’s penthouse as the hired glam team worked around you and your cousin. The stylist meticulously worked with your hair while the makeup artist added the final sweep of highlighter across her cheekbones.

The two of you had been getting ready together for years, first as teenagers sneaking into her mother’s closet, and now as women preparing for an extravagant event in a high-rise overlooking Manhattan. But this afternoon was different.

Her eyes met yours in the mirror. You had just her the rundown of the day before, complete with the news that you and Steve were married. She’d been quiet for a while, but now it seemed she was ready to talk again.

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft but certain.

You blinked, then exhaled.

“Yes I am.”

“You and Steve are perfect for each other. "

She leaned over and grabbed your hand, grinning at you.

"This isn’t a race. I’m never gonna be jealous of you, girl.”

You grinned back.

“I’m pissed that I wasn’t able to be there, though.”

You sighed. Your one regret.

“I know. But it was perfect. Just the two of us. We’ll have a party later on, though. And tonight, we’ll celebrate.”

You turned thoughtful.

“The way Steve loves me should terrify me. But it doesn’t.”

She studied you for a moment.

“Because?”

“Because when I’m with him, it makes sense. The way he looks at me, the way he is with me—it doesn’t feel rushed. It just feels… right.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Your cousin smiled, tilting her head as the hairstylist and makeup artist switched and her hair was being fussed over.

“I know you think that I feel some kind of way, but I know you girl. I was shocked, but not surprised..”

She laughed and you shook your head.

“Running off and getting married is so you. It’s so Steve too when you think about it.”

You took a sip of the mimosa that Bucky had brought in earlier. You thought what was about to happen for your cousin.

“Real talk. Bucky adores you, Cousin. And I know you. And I’m getting to know Bucky. This engagement and wedding are going to be events. Events, I say. You wouldn’t have it any other way. .You’re about to get some bling to match that jewelry you got on tonight in Vermont next week.”

You two laughed together, the mood lighter now.

“You’re right,” she replied. I’m secure. It will happen. And just at the right time for us. And no matter what, Peach. You are never gonna lose me as your biggest fan, no matter what.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, cousin.”

You hugged each other so hard, the stylists had to touch you back up.

As you finished up, the sound of deep voices and approaching footsteps echoed from the hallway. The door opened, and Bucky stepped in first, his navy tuxedo perfectly tailored, his gaze immediately softening when he saw your cousin.

“Damn Frumoasă,” he murmured, taking her in with slow appreciation.

“You’re making it real hard for me to let you out of this apartment tonight.”

She shot him a look.

“Smooth, Barnes,” she smirked at him. “Nice suit.”

“What? This old thing?”

Bucky smirked back as he took her hand and led her out of the room.

You rolled your eyes at them because you had the feeling they were being freaky, you just couldn’t prove it.

Steve walked in, ensconced in an impressively tailored dark tux, his presence commanding as always, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something in him shifted.

You were wearing a short gold sequined gown that showcased your legs, and you felt like a princess.

Like a wife.

His usual air of control wavered for a fraction of a second, his gaze dragging over you like he was memorizing every inch.

You arched that adorable brow at him, tilting your head.

“No comment?”

Steve exhaled, stepping closer, his voice rough around the edges.

“You already know, Mrs. Rogers.”

Bucky chuckled, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

“Think you broke him, Peach. Congratulations, Mrs. Rogers.”

You grinned, gave Bucky a hug and reached for your clutch.

Steve reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist as he murmured, “Hold on.”

You frowned slightly, watching as Bucky guided your cousin toward the door, leaving just the two of you in the room. Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out another small black velvet box.

Your breath caught, your heart skipping for just a second.

He popped the top, revealing a pair of dazzling double diamond drop earrings, the perfect complement to the moi et toi necklace resting against your collarbone and the ring on your finger. All you could do was look at them and then blink up at him.

“Steve…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Thought you should match.”

You shook your head and laughed.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Steve lifted an earring, stepping close to help fasten it in place and his touch lingered.

“You say that now,” he murmured and then moved to the other side, his lips just a breath away from your skin.

“But you love it.”

You turned into his arms and looked into his eyes.

“You know if you keep giving me gifts like this, you’re going to spoil me.”

His eyes darkened, and his hand came to rest on your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress.

“That’s the plan,” he murmured, voice low, “Mrs. Rogers.”

Bucky cleared his throat from the doorway, breaking the moment. He was leaning against the frame, smirking.

“Hate to interrupt, but Nico’s waiting. Unless you two want to skip the gala entirely.”

You rolled your eyes at the dark headed man and flipped him off.

"You're going to get enough of watching us like a drama."

"Never. You two are my favorite romcom."

Steve exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he kissed your neck, producing a shiver. Then, lacing his fingers with yours, he led you toward the door.

—

The way the night was going seemed like a dream, arriving on Steve’s arm and watching the reactions. Some were surprised, but most just commented that you were such a handsome couple and gave congratulations.

Sharon was clearly not happy, but fuck that bitch.

Steve hadn’t given her, or anyone else that matter, a second glance.

When the music started, Steve danced with you to all the tempos, even the Salsa when that genre was played. You had a time, and then you two went to the bar to get refreshments.

Sharon chose that moment to show her ass. You barely had a sip of your amaretto sour before she started on her bullshit.

“Steve,” she purred, looking up at him under her lashes and placing her hand on his forearm.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Steve tactfully removed his arm from her grasp while the fingers on his other hand reached for you and rested low on your back, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate circle against the sequined fabric of your gown.

“It’s been two days, Sharon,” he replied, his tone clipped. And annoyed.

Your cousin and Bucky moved closer, probably because she clocked what was going on.

Sharon ignored Steve’s tone and turned to you.

“And you must be the entertainment. Nice dress. Is it easy to take off?”

The words sounded sweet as honey, but you heard the venom underneath.

“I guess congratulations are in order? I hear you two ran off and got married. I guess that's a choice. It’s probably refreshing, going from someone like Peggy to someone like…Peaches..”

“It’s Peach,” you replied.

The bitch was silent.

Sharon’s gaze flicked to your ring, then your jewelry, then down the length of your gown.

“Although you do wear luxury well. Tell me, how does it feel knowing it’s all borrowed? That he’s probably going to dump you tomorrow. Get an annulment and leave your ass in the gutter strip club where he found you.”

You could feel the heat of Steve’s fury at your side, his body tensing like he was about to snap.

Your mouth opened to reply, but your cousin stepped up, anger rolling off of her body.

“You know what’s really refreshing, Sharon? Watching a woman who wants to fuck around with me and my family and find out.”

She lowered her voice.

“And like a cable, we jump hoes.”

The air around you shifted, and a few party-goers slowed their conversations to listen.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a negative way.” Sharon simpered. “It’s just the truth.”

Sharon looked between you and Steve.

“You are nothing but negative. You don’t have to worry about my marriage. Or your endowment anymore, Sharon.”

Steve spoke to her, his eyes blazing blue.

You smiled at your man, then took a slow step forward, closing the space between you, lowering your voice just enough that only Sharon, and Steve, could hear.

“Do you think calling me a stripper is an insult?”

Your voice was strong and steady.

“I own what I do. I’m damn good at what I do. And you?”

You looked her up and down, eyebrow deadly.

“You’re standing here, burning because even with your family ties, and your desperate little designer dress, the only woman Steve wants is me. He married me.”

You leaned in even closer.

“The difference between us? I don’t have to chase him. I just have to walk into a room.”

You smiled at her sweetly.

“And he follows.”

The moment the words left your lips, Steve did exactly that.

As he left her in her feelings, Steve tossed a comment over his shoulder.

“You just got your ass handed to you in front of half the room,” he mused.

“I’d cut my losses and walk away.”

One of the staffers turned up at that moment.

“This way, Ms. Carter. I’ll be escorting you out.”

The four of you watched as she turned red and huffed and puffed on her way out of the door. After everyone around you went back to minding their own business, your cousin hugged you hard.

“I love you. That was perfection.”

You hugged her back.

“Thank you, Boo.”

You released her as Bucky handed her earrings back and Steve looked at you with admiration in his eyes.

“You handled that well.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Steve pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, not bothering to lower his voice when he said, “I’ll remind you how much I love that later.”

Your cousin groaned dramatically.

“You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.”

Bucky grabbed a bottle of Moet from the table display.

“A toast. To Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers!”

Your husband looked at you with a smile. You don’t know what was coming your way as Steve's wife, but you knew it wouldn’t be boring.

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aikuwrld · 1 day ago

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new follower here! i'd love to see more relationship barou headcanons and perhaps your thoughts on jealous/possessive barou? hope any of this inspires you and cant wait to read more of your upcoming work🥰

AAAA !! anon you are just the sweetest thank you for my first ever request / tell n the support !! i was so excited to see this omgomgomg (//∇//) i an working on barou bf hcs part 2 as i finish typing this up because you have sent me my first tell n you deserve it but for now i hope you enjoy the jealous barou content my love <3 omg he’s adorable pls who doesn’t love a possessive 6’2” self-proclaimed king football player ? ( ´∀｀)

divider creds : miudolli

barou isn’t the type to explode in jealousy. no, but when he does notice someone a little too comfortable around you for his liking… well, it’s evident that his mood shifts.

barou goes quiet— more than usual. muscular arms crossed over his heaving chest while the veins along his neck and temple bulge beneath the thin skin. the air around feels a lot more… heavier.

barou isn’t afraid to step in if he deems it necessary to. he moves with purpose— an arm casually snaking its way around your hips or his solid frame casually moving beside to you. he wastes no time at all answering for you if he needs to.

“ah? they’re busy. they can’t hang out later.” he says in a low voice, the classic raised brow paired with a nasty sneer.

“sho, i’m not that busy, i can still—“

“you are now.”

sometimes barou doesn’t need to say anything at all. or even walk over to you. all it takes is one good look. i mean, have you seen that man? no words or movement are necessary for the cold and calculating look the poor soul talking to you a little too long gets before they finally seem to get the hint and nervously excuse themselves.

“sho, really? that wasn’t necessary…” you huff out, tilting your head up to look up at your boyfriend.

“hah? what did i do?”

“you were just standing there like some crazed killer.”

“tch. what’s it matter? if they ran away that easily, they didn’t deserve the right to talk to you anyway.”

now, don’t even get the king started if it was one of his teammates getting a little too friendly with you. everyone’s in for hell during the next few hours of practice, especially the teammate who seemed to think that cozying up to you was a smart choice.

suddenly, barou’s defense and passes are sharper. shoulder-charging twice as hard into lorenzo and barking orders left and right at an already exhausted sendou.

he doesn’t answer to anyone and nobody dares to question him. well, maybe just an aloof aiku. he spares a glance at him before wiping the sweat off the side of his temple grunting out, “nothin’. just need to remind everyone the king runs this damn field.”

it’s even better for him when the player is on the opposing team. barou never, and i mean, never forgets anyone who flirted with you.

“see that donkey?” he mumbles out under his breath, forearm locking a squirming niko into place while he jerks his chin forward towards an opponent walking nearby.

“uh— yeah..?” the younger replies warily, giving up his futile struggle to escape the king’s iron grip (save that boy fr..).

“watch me crush him and destroy his dreams of playing ever again.”

and your boyfriend stays true to his word. the player’s goal is denied with ease and a merciless tackle from the king sends the ball right back to his team.

“ah.. barou-chan— wasn’t that.. a little too much…?”

“he should’ve focused on the game instead of what’s mine.”

barou spends a lot longer than usual cleaning up around the place too when he’s jealous. the kitchen counter was sparkling clean. you could see your reflection on the pearly white tub. hell, that stubborn stain on the oven is finally gone.

it doesn’t take long to find barou, hunched over, ferociously scrubbing over an imaginary spot on the floor. the veins nearly bulging out his arms as he holds onto the foamy brush tight while he grumbles to himself about how that asshole shouldn’t have smiled at you like that while you stifle back a laugh.

it never hurts to tease barou. after all, it’s adorable when he’s refusing to look you in eyes, soft lips formed into a pout or twitching involuntarily when you bring up the other’s name. he’s so tense and brooding— but underneath all that, the poor baby is soft and restless.

“aw, babyyy.. are you jealous?” you coo, reaching up to pinch at his cheek.

“hah? the hell would i need to be jealous for? don’t flatter yourself, i’m busy.” he turns away with a grumble, the tips of his ears tinged red.

“you’re going to have to do a better job at convincing me you weren’t glaring holes into aiku’s head for an hour and a half~”

“…mmph.”

when you two are alone barou is a pouty and slightly clingy mess. his arms wrapped tightly around your frame while he presses the softest of kisses on your neck. his jealousy manifests through touches over words, silently tracing shapes along your skin while his lips graze over the soft skin. his shoulders relaxing when you reassure him and press a kiss on his temple with a smile on your face.

barou respects your personal space. but sometimes if he’s feeling particularly confident or full of himself— usually after a match or practice that went exceptionally well for him— he isn’t afraid to put in just little more effort to remind everyone you’re his more openly.

he casually keeps his arm draped over your shoulder or his large hand over your thigh when he notices someone who just doesn’t seem to be getting the hint. he keeps his gaze locked on them, keeping you close to him. then, he leans down to kiss your cheek, the sudden act catching you completely off guard.

“what was that—“

“just wanted to kiss you. you’re mine after all.” he mutters, his voice low enough for your ears only, pushing back your hair as the faintest smile tugs on his lips for being able to love someone as perfect as you.

#barou shouei #barou shoei x reader #blue lock #blue lock barou #blue lock fluff #barou x reader #barou x reader fluff #bllk barou #barou fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x gender neutral reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #req n asks 𓈒𓈒 ೀ ꒱

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nottswitch · 2 days ago

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⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN VIRGO

venus in virgo is reserved in expressing their feelings, yet they meticulously focus on things you like and strive to please through small acts. this placement tends to use sex as a release for everyday stress and tension, though they rarely express any fantasies they might have in bed.

sub!draco malfoy x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, orgasm denial, begging, edging, mommy kink, masturbation (m receiving), praise

nav // event / more

draco was completely delirious. who would’ve thought that this was exactly what he needed after a stressful work week at his new position in the ministry? you were very proud of him – he finally managed to confess one of his biggest fantasies, even though you were suspicious that he’d had it for a while now.

the two of you were on the bed, tangled in cool satin sheets. you were sat up, leaning your back against the headboard, with draco’s upper body in your lap. your hand was moving steadily on his hard, weeping cock, your grip tight and firm; the other hand was in his hair, gently scratching his head and running through the platinum locks, normally neat but now an adorable, sweaty mess. draco’s mouth was on your nipple, lapping and sucking as he whined softly, his hips lifting up in shallow thrusts into your hand from time to time.

"i– i’m close, mommy."

you smiled and slowed down your movements, making him whimper and try to push himself more into your touch. you shook your head in disapproval and moved your hand from his cock to his hip, pressing it down to the bed.

"aren’t you my good boy, baby?" you tugged at his hair, lifting his head up for his gaze to meet yours. he nodded weakly, his glassy eyes searching your face for any signs of mercy. your expression was soft but unyielding – you didn’t plan on stopping any time soon, especially knowing that he was enjoying this as much as you were, maybe even more.

"your good boy," draco mumbled, his lips jutted out in a small pout. "but i wanna cum, mommy… it’s been so long…"

"i know you do, darling." your hand slipped back to his cock, caressing but giving nothing more for now, making it twitch under your palm. "but you’re gonna have to wait, okay? you can take some more, for mommy?"

draco let out a shaky breath and nodded again, biting his already swollen bottom lip to stop himself from whining – although you knew he would anyway. you placed a kiss on his forehead as your hand wrapped around his cock, starting to move up and down in slow strokes. draco’s hips thrusted up once more, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it and keep himself controlled.

"please, please, mommy, let me cum," he slurred out, hazy and blissed out from the pleasure he’d been in for the last hour, his peak close yet denied over and over again. precum started dripping even more intensely from his slit, your fingers deftly spreading it all over his length.

"shh, baby, it’s alright," you murmured, continuing to scratch his head, which only heightened the sensations he was drowning in, making him shiver. "you’re doing so good, love. just a little bit more, yeah? be mommy’s good boy, and i might let you cum soon."

#─ kira‘s works ౨ৎ .ᐟ #─ the birth or venus ☾#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys drabble #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys fanfiction

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rafayelxsylusho · 9 hours ago

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College AU study sessions with the LADS men part 2

Xavierxreader

TW:SMUT

Xavier was exactly where you expected him to be, curled up in an oversized armchair tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, fast asleep. His blond hair was falling over his forehead as he breathed softly, a book resting open on his chest. The fading light from the setting sun outside the tall windows casting a warm glow over his face.

As you approached quietly, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. It was a scene you'd witnessed many times before, Xavier had the ability to fall asleep anywhere, it didn't matter the time of the day.

He stirred slightly as you drew closer, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, as if he sensed your presence before you even spoke. Slowly, he opened his deep blue eyes and his gaze found yours.

'Y/n" he murmured, voice a bit rough from sleep. "Shouldn't you be in class?" He glanced at the clock on the wall, squinting a little to focus. "It's past six."

You were used to it now, spending late nights at the library together over the past year. While you read over your law books and case studies, he'd be engrossed in his astronomy texts, occasionally pointing out constellations in the night sky. More often than not, he'd sleep in one of these armchairs.

He stretched languidly after sitting up, the fabric of his sweater riding up to expose a strip of pale skin. "I'm starving" he said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I was planning on heading home soon to cook some dinner. What about you? Have you eaten already or are you still at that?" He nodded towards your armful of books as stood up from the armchair, grabbing his own books and tucking them under his arm

You sighed softly, "I didn't have a chance to eat yet, I was too busy working on a project with Jeremiah." You shifted the stack of textbooks and papers you were holding, a few sheets threatening to slip out. "We were trying to get as much done as possible before the deadline tomorrow." You glanced up at Xavier, noticing how his hair still looked slightly tousled from his nap. "I guess I lost track of time."

At the mention of Jeremiah's name, a shadow seemed to pass over Xavier's features. "Jeremiah" he repeated, and there was a slight edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

He took a step closer to you, brows furrowing slightly as he looked down at you with an unreadable expression. "You were working late with Jeremiah," he said, almost like a statement rather than a question. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly on the books tucked under his arm. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression still unreadable. Then, with a small shake of his head, he seemed to push away the thoughts that had darkened his eyes at the mention of Jeremiah's name.

"You know, you could always come back to my dorm with me. I can cook something for you too." His eyes flicked to the stack of books you were holding. "You could study there while I cook. Killing two birds with one stone, as they say."

But you were already shaking your head, a small smile on your lips. "Actually, I already bought us something to eat on my way over here," you said, shifting the bags to show him the takeout containers tucked inside. "I didn't want to risk another... incident in your dorm." You raised your eyebrows at him, a teasing glint in your eye.

Xavier chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Ah, right. The incident last week, I thought we'd established that cooking in close quarters with a gas stove and a man who's prone to distraction is a bad idea."

You nodded, shouldering your bag more securely as you turned towards the door. "Yeah, my dorm is closer anyway. We might as well head over there," you said, glancing up at Xavier. "Unless you're in a rush to get back to yours for some reason."

As you walked side by side out of the quiet library and into the cooler evening air, Xavier's hand brushed against yours, his fingers lingering for just a moment. "No rush, besides, I quite like the idea of spending time together outside of the library. No distractions, just you, me, and..." His eyes flicked to the bags of food in your hands. "...dinner."

Once inside your dorm room, you set the bags of takeout food down on the small table near the window. The room was cozy and familiar, with your things scattered about, textbooks on the desk, a few pieces of laundry on the chair, and a half-drunk mug of tea cooling on the nightstand.

You busied yourself with unpacking the food, the savory aromas filling the small space. "I got your favorite," you said, gesturing to the containers. As you worked, you could feel Xavier's presence behind you, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. You glanced back over your shoulder at him, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're hungry," you teased, grabbing some plates and utensils from the small kitchenette. "I may have gone a little overboard with the ordering."

As you stretched up on your tiptoes to reach the cups on the top shelf, you suddenly felt a warm presence behind you. The heat of Xavier's body seemed to envelop you as he stepped closer, his chest now centimeters away from your back. He didn't touch you, but you could feel the energy emanating from him, the tension in the air between your bodies. His breath ruffled the hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Here, let me," he murmured, his voice low and close to your ear.

Then his hands were there, one large hand wrapping around your waist to steady you, while the other easily reached up and grabbed the cups from the shelf. He set them down on the counter, his fingers lingering on you for a moment before he stepped back.

You turned around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. He was watching you with a hint of something dark and heated in his blue eyes. "Thanks," you said softly, grabbing the cups and taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, but before you could react, Xavier was already striding towards it, his long legs eating up the short distance. He opened the door, revealing Jeremiah standing in the hallway. "Hey, is Y/n here?" He asked, glancing past Xavier to catch your eye. "I was just dropping off the rest of the project files we worked on earlier." His gaze lingered on you for a moment before flicking back to Xavier, a slight furrow in his brow.

Jeremiah was a tall, lanky guy with brown hair and glasses. He was your group project partner for the class, and also lived just a few doors down the hall in the dorm. "I thought I could come over and we could go over the final draft before tomorrow's presentation." He glanced at you, a hopeful look in his brown eyes.

You glanced over at Xavier, who was still holding the door open, his tall frame acting as a barrier between you and Jeremiah. "Jeremiah, hey," you said, stepping forward. "I was just about to have dinner with Xavier actually" You gestured to the containers of food on the table. "Is there something specific you needed to go over tonight? "

"Oh, uh, no, it's not urgent. Just wanted to review everything in detail, but I guess I can come back later or we can review it tomorrow morning before the presentation," he said, still sounding a bit uncertain.

Xavier's grip tightened slightly on the door handle, his posture stiffening. "Sounds like a plan then," he said, a note of finality in his voice. "I'm sure y/n will let you know when she's free." His tone made it clear that he expected Jeremiah to leave now.

Jeremiah blinked, catching the hint. "Right, yeah. Okay." He took a step back. "I'll just... see you tomorrow then, y/n." With a final glance at you, and a lingering look at Xavier, Jeremiah turned and walked away.

Xavier closed the door with a bit more force than necessary, the sound of it shutting echoing in the small room. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his shoulders tense. Then, slowly, he turned around to face you.

His gaze flicked over you, taking in your startled expression. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice a bit tight. "I just... I didn't realize Jeremiah would be dropping by this late." He took a step towards you, closing the distance between you. "I didn't know he was in the habit of visiting you at... dinner time," he murmured, his voice low and a little rough around the edges.

"Jeremiah doesn't usually drop by this late. He's just really dedicated to our group project," You explain softly, "He's a nice guy, and a great study partner."

"Oh I'm sure he is", his voice a low rumble in his chest. Then you feel your heart skip a beat as Xavier leans in closer, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. For a moment, you think he might close the distance and capture your mouth with his own. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, your body tensing in anticipation.

But then, unexpectedly, you feel his hand move past you, grabbing the utensils you had set down on the counter. He pulls back slightly, holding them up with a smile. "Looks like we're all set for dinner then," he says, a note of playful teasing in his voice.

As he busied himself with setting the table, you couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear your thoughts as you grabbed the cups to set them on the small table as well.

As you both ate, you couldn't help but notice the tension in Xavier's jaw, the way his chewing seemed a bit more aggressive than usual. He was going through the motions of eating, but his mind seemed preoccupied. You glanced up at him, a look of concern in your eyes as you watched him shove another forkful of food into his mouth. "Is everything okay, Xavier?" you asked softly, setting your own fork down on the table. "You seem a little... distracted tonight."

When he looked at you there was a hint of something dark and troubled in their blue depths. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I'm fine," he said, a bit too quickly. "Just have a lot on my mind, I guess." He shrugged, trying to brush off your concern.

Once you both finished you got up from your chair, plate in hand, and walked over to the small sink in the kitchenette to rinse it off. As you leaned over the sink, you could feel Xavier's presence behind you once again, heat radiating off his body as he reached around you to set his own plate down in the sink. His chest brushed against your back, his breath hot on the nape of your neck. "I can do that," he murmured His hands lingered on the edge of the sink, caging you in.

"I...I was just going to ," you managed to say, "It's n...no trouble at all, really." You stuttered, a flush creeping up your neck at the sudden proximity of Xavier's body to yours. You tried to turn around to face him, but found yourself trapped between his body and the counter. Your heart raced as you looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze. There was a fire in his eyes, a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Maybe I should...", you began to say, but Xavier cut you off. In one swift, fluid motion, he turned you around and grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you down on the edge of the counter next to the sink, his hands remaining on your hips. "Let me take care of this," he said "You've done enough for tonight."

He was so close that you couldn't help but look down at Xavier's lips, your heart pounding in your chest. The air between you felt charged, electric, and you found yourself leaning in closer, drawn to the heat of his body and the intensity of his eyes.

"Xavier, I..." you breathed, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his lips now a mere whisper away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breath mingling with his. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you felt his lips brush against yours in the barest of touches. It was a teasing whisper, a promise of more to come. His thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his touch igniting a fire deep within you. You parted your lips slightly, a breathy sigh escaping you as you gazed up at him with hooded eyes. "Xavier," you breathed out once again, your voice trembling with anticipation. Your hands came up to rest on his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for, only knowing that you needed more of him. Your body ached for his touch, your soul craved his possession. In that moment, lost in the depths of his eyes, you would have given him anything he asked for.

With a soft whimper, you closed the remaining distance between you, pressing your lips fully against his in a desperate, needy kiss. Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him in as you parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Your heart raced as you felt his lips move against yours, the kiss turning more intense, more passionate with each passing second. You poured all your longing and desire into the kiss, your body melting against his as you clung to him, craving more of his touch.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, your skirt riding up your thighs as you pulled his hard body flush against your softer curves. Your ankles locked behind his back, holding him in place. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, tugging lightly as you angled your head to slide your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging for entrance.

You felt Xavier's large hands run slowly up your bare thighs, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His fingers gripped your soft flesh, squeezing lightly as he pulled your legs tighter around his waist. He groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, as his hands reached the hem of your skirt.

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, his breath hot against your skin. "Y/n," he growled, his voice rough with desire "you drive me crazy" he murmured, licking his tongue flat along your neck up to your flushed cheek.

You grabbed both of Xavier's hands and eagerly guided them to your hips, encouraging him to grip the soft flesh tightly. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers sank into your curves, pulling you impossibly closer. Your chest heaved against his as you panted softly, your body aching for his touch. "Touch me, Xavier," you begged, grinding your hips against his in a desperate search for friction. "Please, I need you." Your words were punctuated by needy little kisses along his jawline, your fingers tugging at his hair and his shirt. You were lost in a haze of desire, your mind consumed by the feel of his body against yours.

You grabbed the hem of Xavier's shirt with eager hands, tugging at it insistently as you tried to yank it up and off his muscular torso. Your fingers brushed against the bare skin of his abdomen, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. You let out a soft gasp as more of his skin was revealed, your eyes darkening with lust at the sight of his toned body. "Xavier," you breathed out, your voice heavy with desire, "I want to feel you. All of you." Your hands slid up his chest, exploring his pectorals and the defined lines of his abs, marveling at the strength and power beneath his skin. You leaned in, placing hot, open mouthed kisses along his collarbone and up the side of his neck, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as the last of your control slipped away, leaving you bare, wanting and completely at his mercy.

When your lips marked his neck, something primal and hungry flashed in Xavier's eyes. In an instant, his hands were at the front of your shirt unbuttoning it with a sense of urgency. Buttons flew open under his fingers, your shirt falling open to reveal your lacy bra underneath. He pushed the fabric off your shoulders impatiently, leaving it to pool around your elbows as he drank in the sight of your nearly bare breasts.

With a smile playing on your lips, you reached up and unclasped your bra at the front, your breasts spilling free. Xavier's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your bare flesh, his eyes roaming hungrily over your curves. He licked his lips, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "You're so beautiful." He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to circle one straining peak before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. His other hand rolled and plucked at the other. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch, craving more.

With your movements, your skirt had ridden up your thighs, now barely covering your panties. The flimsy fabric strained against your core, damp with your arousal. Xavier's hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips tightly. He ground his hips into yours, letting you feel the thick ridge of his erection straining against his pants. "You feel what you do to me?" He rocked into you again, the friction delicious even through the layers of clothing separating you. One hand slid around to grip your ass, squeezing it and pulling your thigh up higher around his waist. The other hand slid under your skirt, his fingers brushing teasingly over the damp lace covering your pussy. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already," his fingers pressing more firmly against your clothed sex. When you felt Xavier push your panties to the side and drag his fingers through your folds, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. Your hips bucked into his touch, seeking more of that friction.

"Xavier!" you cried out, your voice high and breathy with need. Your fingers clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him desperately. Your heart raced, blood singing in your veins as the heat of your desire consumed you. You were aching, empty, and you needed him to fill you. Your legs tightened around his waist, trying to pull him closer, to align his hard length with your dripping cunt.

"Fuck me, Xavier," you begged shamelessly, too far gone to care about anything but the feel of him inside you

But he had other plans. Ignoring your desperate pleas for a moment, he suddenly dropped to his knees before you. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further apart as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders. He dragged you down to the edge of the counter, your sex now level with his face. His eyes locked with yours as he leaned in, his breath hot against your exposed pussy.

He pulled your panties aside once more, baring you completely to his hungry eyes. Without warning, he dragged the flat of his tongue from your entrance up to your aching clit. A low, appreciative groan rumbled in his chest as he savored your taste, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before locking with yours again

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to devour you, his tongue delving between your walls to stroke and tease your most sensitive spots. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips, flicking it mercilessly as he plunged two long fingers deep into you. Your head fell back, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your hips bucked against his face, riding his fingers and tongue. "Yes, oh god yes!" you screamed, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you.

Your cries grew louder and more desperate as Xavier's skilled mouth and fingers worked you towards your peak. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes flashing up to meet yours as he pressed a finger to your lips. "Shh, you don't want the neighbors knowing what's going on here," he murmured, his voice low and rough with arousal. "Keep quiet for me, princess." He pushed his finger past your lips, pressing it against your tongue. "Suck," he commanded, his eyes burning into yours with intense desire."Don't make a sound until I say you can." His fingers pumped faster, his tongue swirling around your clit, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Determined to follow his command, you suckled obediently at Xavier's finger, hollowing your cheeks to muffle your increasingly desperate cries. Your tongue swirled around the digit as your hips undulated against his mouth and fingers. Xavier groaned around your cunt, the vibrations adding to the intense pleasure radiating through your core. He pumped his fingers harder, curling them to stroke that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit, the wet muscle fluttering against the sensitive bundle of nerves until it throbbed in time with your pounding heart. Your thighs trembled around his head. Tears of pleasure stung your eyes, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps through your nose as you fought to stay quiet.

"C..I..cumming Xav..." you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, Xavier withdrew his fingers from your mouth, only to replace them with a harsh pinch to your nipple. At the same time, he latched onto your clit, sucking it as he pushed you over the edge. Your vision went white as your body convulsed, back arching sharply as a silent scream tore from your throat. Wave after wave of pure, bliss crashed over you, your walls clamping down around Xavier's fingers as he worked you through your peak. Your juices gushed from your spasming sex, coating his chin and dripping down onto the kitchen tile below. The world fell away, narrowing down to the feeling of Xavier's touch, his mouth, his hands on your flesh as you rode out the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of your life.

"That was the most delicious dessert after a meal I've ever had," he said, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. Rising to his feet, he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

Still trembling with the aftershocks of your intense climax, your hands moved on autopilot to unbuckle his belt. Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap, desperation making them clumsy and uncoordinated. With a low growl, Xavier brushed your hands away and quickly unfastened his pants himself. He shoved them down his muscular thighs along with his boxer briefs, freeing his large, hard cock. It sprang up, long, thick and heavy, the head flushed a dark, angry red and already glistening with beads of moisture. Your mouth watered at the sight, your core clenching with need as you gazed at his impressive length.

Xavier's hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you with a feral expression. "Fuck, I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice strained with desire. "Now." With his other hand, he grabbed your hip, yanking you to the edge of the counter once again. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he stepped between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your folds, your panties still pulled to the side.

"Hold on tight, princess," Xavier commanded. With one powerful thrust, he buried all the way into your fluttering heat. A loud moan tore from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls gripping him. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his hips nestling against yours as he savored the feeling of being inside you.

He gave you a moment to adjust, his eyes searching yours intensely as he caressed your cheek with a gentler touch. Then, with a roll of his hips, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, burying himself balls deep in your welcoming body. He set a hard, fast pace, the kitchen echoing with the slap of skin against skin and your shared moans of pleasure.

Xavier was a quiet man, but when it came to being inside you, fucking you this deep, he was anything but. Moans and grunts of pure satisfaction spilled from his lips with each powerful thrust of his hips. Obscene words, filthy praise and declarations of lust interspersed with your name, a litany of worship and desire.

Xavier grabbed your legs, his large hands wrapping around your calves as he pushed them up and out, planting your feet on the edge of the kitchen counter. This new position opened you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper into you.

"Wider, baby," his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Let me in deeper, let me reach that sweet spot inside you. Fuck, I can feel you trembling around me. You're so close, aren't you?

Your body tensed, back arching off the counter as a completely different sensation crashed over you. "Fuuuck!" you cried out, your voice high and thin with shock and overwhelming pleasure. Your sex clenched around his cock, squeezing him as a powerful, gushing orgasm ripped through you. Clear fluid sprayed from your core, splattering against Xavier's stomach as you squirted hard.

"Fuck yes, that's it!" Xavier's his hips never faltering as he fucked you through your climax. "Cum for me, fucking soak me with it. Goooooooods your cunt feels incredible when you cum, gripping me so fucking tight." He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, urgent kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as he pounded into you, prolonging your mind blowing orgasm. His control shattered the moment he felt your sex clench and spasm around him once more, a second gush of your essence flooding out to soak his cock and drip down onto the kitchen floor

"Fuck, baby, I can't... I'm going to..." he snarled, his words cutting off into a moan as his hips jerked erratically. His cock throbbed and pulsed inside you, growing even harder if that was possible, before he came. Xavier moves his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and you find yourself aching for more all over again.

As Xavier caught his breath, he looked down at your flushed cheeks, noticing you glancing at the mess on his stomach and the puddle of your combined juices on the kitchen floor. A grin spread across his face. He traced a finger through the damp spot on his abdomen, scooping up some of your essence before bringing it to his lips. Maintaining eye contact with you, he licked it off, his tongue curling in a sensual manner.

"Mmm, we made quite the mess, didn't we princess?" he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "Looks like someone's appetite for me is insatiable" he nipped at your bottom lip, tugging on it gently before soothing the sting with a brush of his lips. His eyes, dark and intense, held your gaze as he murmured against your skin.

"I hope you didn't have any plans for the rest of the night, because you're not going anywhere. You're mine now, all night long."

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momolady · 15 hours ago

Text

Butch the Grim Reaper: All Parts

Nonbinary Reader x Male MonsterMute Reader - Slasher Aesthetic - Horror Movie Vibes - Time Travel Romance - Cowboy Music Word Count - 9716(TW contains horror elements, blood, a gun, and my attempts at comedy. Read with caution) This story is complete! No links, no tricks Also, this is extremely special to me. And I can’t imagine a better time to share it with all of you than Halloween! I have been so excited and chomping at the bit to share Butch with all of you, it’s one of my all time favorites.

One:

I can’t die, and that really sucks. It’s like having an itch you can’t scratch. It’s annoying beyond all reason. Sometimes it’s painful. Other times you can’t think. Being unable to die is like being bitten by a mosquito who grants wishes. Doesn’t matter how good it is, it’s still annoying.

I’m not sure when it started or why it’s even lasting. I’ve been shuffling along this mortal coil, hoping to find ways to end this torment. Perhaps at the end of the world it will only be the cockroaches, Cher, and me. But for now, it’s me and the rest of the world, rat race and all.

I remember that song my grandpa used to listen to. He’d play it over and over, annoying everyone in the house. Well, everyone except me. It was about a cowboy out herding cattle when he saw this band of riders who warned him about hell. I used to sit and listen to it with grandpa on loop, picturing the cowboy, the spectral riders, and what they meant by hell. I was fascinated by it, the imagery of the song and its lesson. I never truly understood what it meant. Even when my mom yelled at my dad in the hospital beyond grandpa’s bed how that ‘old moron is going to hell.’

While they fought, I hid under grandpa’s bed, humming that old song to comfort him and myself. It never occurred to me my parents didn’t know I was hiding, not until they got home anyways. So I was there as the nurses turned the light out and the world became this melodic quiet filled with breaths and beeping.

Outside, I heard the old church bells ring at midnight. I opened my eyes, staring out across the dimly lit room. I lifted my head, hearing something strange amongst the quiet drone of the hospital. It was footsteps, heavy ones. Along with them was a slight jingle.

Stomp! Clink.

Stomp! Clink

Stomp! Clink.

A red glow caught the corner of my eye. Standing in the doorway was a figure, tall, strong, and wearing black cowboy boots with spurs.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

The figure walked into the room, illuminating my grandpa’s hospital room with the red glow emanating from their body.

“Let’s see here,” said a man’s deep voice. He picked up grandpa’s chart and hummed to himself. “Yup. Got the right room.” He set the chart down with a clatter. “Okay, hoss, time to get up and go.”

I saw a hand come down to his side, reaching towards his boot. The hand was thin, and wide, but mainly, it was mainly bone.

I gasped and the figure stopped. The hand reached up, grabbing the side of the bed as he knelt down to peer down under the hospital bed. Red glow met my eyes and I found I could no longer breathe, let alone speak.

“Looky here,” a low southern drawl greeted me.

Everything locked up in my chest. My pulse, my breath. My voice. It all snuggled tight into a box.

“Funny. I ain’t ever been seen before. Must be special,” he said with a low chuckle. The bony hand reached out, patting the top of my head. “Nothing to worry about here, pardner. Just doing my job.”

I stared hard at those red glows.

He chuckled. “You know this fella?”

I nodded.

“Well, shame,” he murmured. His head tilted one way then the other. “Youngin’ ain’t ye? Well, double shame. Sorry about this, pardner. Cover your ears.” He stood back up, reaching for his boot again. From it he pulled a gun.

I didn’t cover my ears.

The red glow faded along with his footsteps.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I didn’t come out from under the bed even as the beeping from grandpa’s monitor went monotone. When the nurse came I stayed under the bed. I was eventually found and pulled out, but I wasn’t the same.

Death came and shot my grandpa.

I stopped speaking after that, and frustrated as they were, my parents sent me away. It was a camp for troubled youth. And, well, it was supposed to be for kids more troubled than me, I just couldn’t talk. So, to say the very least, I was out of my element.

Right away it was well known I stood out amongst everyone else. I was smaller, weaker. And oh yeah! I couldn’t talk, so I couldn’t stand up for myself or rat people out, not exactly anyways.

The camp was right beside a huge lake, right out in the middle of the woods. It was supposed to be therapeutic for us kids. Us oh so troubled kids. All people did was isolate a bunch of people who needed help, not nature. I needed counseling, better parents, other kids here needed medication, a stern hand. But yeah, nature.

One day I was locked in an old storage shed. Which was one of the weaker punishments I had been given. At least I was left alone, at least I wasn’t being cornered in the showers. It was dark though, very dark. Beyond the shed I could hear voices and laughter. It was movie night, and I could smell the popcorn. I loved popcorn.

I sighed heavily and just accepted my fate. When one of the adults came to get something from the shed in the morning I’d be found. I sat there, staring down through the darkness. Then I heard it.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I stood back up, standing on a bucket to see outside. There was a red glow at the edge of the lake.

Stomp! Clink.

It got closer, going towards the end of the dock. That’s when I saw him. The red glow hovered around him as he stared down into the lake. He wore a cowboy hat and a jacket with fringe flowing from the sleeves.

I stood on tiptoe, trying to see why he was standing at the edge of that dock. He looked up, almost towards me, but his red eyes went further. Voices approached from beside the shed.

“-just for a while.” A guy said.

“Ugh, it smells like shit down there,” a girl said.

It was two of my main aggressors, Alex and Alex. Yes, they both had the same name, and they had tag teamed together out of some weird narcissistic bond. Boy Alex was feeling up Girl Alex as they walked past me. His hand was on her butt while she was eating popcorn. They were heading towards the dock.

Death in his western regalia stepped aside, letting them go to the foot of the dock. Boy Alex was whispering to Girl Alex, and the next thing I saw was them taking off their clothes.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Girl Alex said. She went in to kiss Boy Alex, but he instead shoved her into the water. He stood there laughing, dick wagging as he stood over the dock.

Girl Alex never came up.

“Come on! You’re faking it!” He leaned over. “Alex?”

She jumped out of the water and grabbed him, pulling him by his hair into the water with a wild shriek.

Death shot Boy Alex. He was pulled out of the lake in the morning. Girl Alex got out of the lake without him and never said a word.

But before all that, I was still watching from the shed. Death came towards it, opening the shed and looking down at me as I approached.

“Got your back, pardner.” He winked at me and gave me finger guns.

I couldn’t say anything, so I nodded at him.

He extended his hand. “The name is Butch!” Tassels hung from the side of his glove as well. “Put ‘er there.”

I took Butch’s hand, shaking it, but he grabbed hold of me, squeezing me tight in a way that made me warm inside. Made me feel safe.

“Like I said,” he whispered. “I’ve got your back.” There was a tone to his voice, a softness and care that was different from my grandpa. There was more to it, more that my young, fragile mind couldn’t understand. Butch gave my hand an extra squeeze, and then and there I knew I didn’t want him to go. But he had to, so I let go.

He turned, walking away from me. Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I tried to follow him, but as I headed towards the lake I saw Girl Alex rise up out of the water. She looked angry, beyond pissed. Our eyes locked and for a moment it was silent. She roared at me, screaming like a monster. So I ran.

Like I said, Boy Alex was pulled out of the lake in the morning and everyone was sent home.

I was instead sent away to a school for special needs kids. Where the kids were kind, but the adults were cruel. I wound up taking on a role of protector rather than victim. Well, both I suppose. I don’t want to get too much into my time at the school. The damage was done. Let’s move on.

I was sent back to that camp, a few years after it was shut down it was reopened. I guess enough parents complained they didn’t have a ‘good setting’ for their kids. I was older then, just a month away from being eighteen.

I thought it would be different.

But no. Girl Alex had been hired on as one of the counselors. From then on, my life became a nightmare.

Girl Alex was a success story. She turned her life around when Boy Alex was discovered dead in the lake. She was wonderful. She was beautiful. She was kind.

You know where this was going. The girl was a monster, plain and simple. Always was, always would be. But now she had power, she had authority. Which, for a monster, is not a good thing to have.

At first I thought she never remembered me. Surely she remembered the night at the lake, but maybe she didn’t realize I was the one she roared at. Things were calm and quiet, camp seemed to be okay.

But that was all a cover. Girl Alex was just waiting. It wasn’t until the Monday after camp started that things changed. Something was wrong, supplies were low, or a generator was busted, I can’t remember. So a group of counselors left to go into town. They’d be back the next day. Girl Alex was left in charge.

It was dubbed the Cruel Monday. By the time the other counselors returned, there was not much they could do. The camp was torched, bloodied, and no survivors were found. At least, not at first.

They found Girl Alex’s mask near the lake where I had ripped it off. She was somewhere at the bottom of the lake. I’m sure they found her when they drained it some years later. Meanwhile, I was attached to her, held on by a rope with cement blocks. She’d got caught in her own trap.

“Geez, pardner. Look what they’ve gotten you into.” I shouldn’t have been able to hear that, but I did. I shouldn't have been alive at all, lord knows I wasn’t breathing. I was pulled from the lake and laid out on the shore opposite of the dock.

“This isn’t fair,” Butch whispered. He sat beside me, a piece of long, dried grass sticking out of his dark face where a mouth would be.

I was staring up at the sky, watching smoke flow into the abyss above me. There was no sky, it was a vortex, spiraling and pulling at me. Butch kept his hand upon my chest though and it kept me from rising. I saw people in the vortex, no, souls. I saw Girl Alex clawing at the edges, using large teeth to keep herself in place.

“You can’t go yet,” he voice called me back and I turned my head to look at him. He looked lost in thought, deeply troubled. “I don’t want you to go.”

I opened my mouth to try and say something, but a shout covered me. “Over here! I found someone!”

Butch’s hand slid lazily from my chest as someone picked me up. I reached for him, but his trouble remained painted in his glowing red eyes. I was carried away, taken to the hospital where I was treated. My inability to speak labeled me as an unreliable witness, an idiot as my dad called me, so the massacre of Cruel Monday was never solved.

Being the lone survivor of an unsolved massacre at least gave me cushion when I turned eighteen. Without my parents I could agree to interviews, I could be studied, given money to appear at true crime conventions. I doubt my story would be believed, and part of me didn’t want Girl Alex to receive the credit, so I made up the Monday Ripper.

Books. Movies. A TV show. Various and endless podcasts all told the story, or some facsimile to the Monday Ripper. And I was the final survivor.

Of course, my parents tried crawling back. My dad’s health was suffering and, oh no, they didn’t have the money. But guess who did? Me! For once, I had the upper hand.

“Monday Ripper,” my dad bemoaned from his bed. I had agreed to give my parents money, but under the stipulation I had control. Dad was in the same shitty nursing home they left grandma, the place that killed her. I didn’t allow mom to visit. He never let her visit me wherever they sent me anyways.

I looked at my dad, knowing exactly what he was going to say. I sat beside him some days, hoping to hear a thank you or something from him.

“You should have died that day. Things would have made sense then,” he said between wheezing breaths of oxygen.

Oh, how wonderful modern medicine was. Without that oxygen tank, why, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Next step would be a ventilator.

“You were never supposed to exist-” he started coughing hard, and something on his monitor began to beep. One of the nurses should have been alerted and came, but they didn’t. Exactly why he was here.

I was about to lean over his bed when I heard footsteps approaching.

Stomp! Clink.

Butch’s hand rested on my shoulder. Oh! I knew he would come. I stretched out my hand, placing it upon the valve of the oxygen tank. I looked my father in the eyes as Butch’s hand squeezed tighter upon my shoulder.

“Do it, pardner.” His voice was so deep in my ear. My skin tingled from my ear down to my spine. I took a shuddering breath and twisted the valve closed.

Death shot my father.

I turned, looking Butch in the eye. He tilted his hat to me. “Long time no see, pardner. I know you’ve been looking for me.”

I nodded, holding my breath in my chest.

“Don’t worry,” he winked at me. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for you.” He slipped his fingers under my chin, his thumb pressed to my lips. “You worry me, kiddo.”

What did he mean? He sounded like he was talking about something I should already know.

He sighed softly. “Can’t stay too long.” He motioned behind me. “These little meetings, they gotta be brief. Understand?”

No, I thought. I looked back into his eyes. Why was he always there when I needed him the most? After Grandpa died, he had appeared at all these strange times in my life. When I should have died, when I shouldn’t have existed.

“I’ll be back. Can’t say when, but, yeah,” Butch chuckled. “I’ll see you around, pardner.” He walked away, fading behind a large nurse who looked annoyed that my dad was dead.

“It’s so strange,” my mom said the day after his funeral. She was washing dishes, looking outside at the yard. “Not having him around.”

You can say it’s nice mom, I understand.

She turned and looked back at me, her brow knitted together. “Is that why you chose that nursing home?”

I just looked at her and shrugged.

“I wish you could talk. It’s weird.” She went back to washing dishes. “Wonder if we’ll get any more free food today.”

I went back to my room to continue writing. Sequels to reboots simply don’t write themselves. I don’t know why I’m allowed to write movies, it feels wrong.

At one of the conventions, I had met a fan and we had got to talking. Layla would message me all the time, and I’ll admit, I got attached to hearing from her. Occasionally we would meet, share a hotel room and do stuff normal adults would do.

“You can tell me,” she whispered under the sheets one night. “You know who did it right? The Monday Ripper?”

I laid there staring into Layla’s eyes. I would be speechless even if I could talk.

She rose up slightly, tenting the sheet with her head. “Tell me. I can keep a secret.”

She knew I didn’t talk, why was she asking me now?

Layla began to get on top of me and straddled me. Her hands slid up my chest towards my neck. “I’ve always admired you, you know? I wish I had the guts to do it sometimes.”

Did she think I was the Ripper?

Her hands clutched around my throat. “It would be so exciting. Tell me about it. Please. All of it.”

I grabbed her wrist and pushed her hands back.

Laughing, Layla tossed her head back. “Let’s do it together! A real reboot.” She leaned down as if to kiss me. I escaped her, leaving the confines of the sheet. Of course I attract the crazies. I’m used to that much. But she put on such a good front.

I began getting dressed. Meanwhile, Layla got off the bed, the sheet still draped around her like she was a ghost. “I’m serious!” She replied.

I grabbed my things, leaving money for the cleaning staff on the TV. I then opened the door to leave.

“Don’t go!” Layla screamed.

I went. I even started to pick up speed.

I heard footsteps behind me, chasing me down the hall. But they weren’t the ones I longed to hear.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Rapid succession of tiny feet as Layla ran down the hall to get me. The naked girl was still clad like a ghost in a sheet. Her arm rose up under the sheet, extended a knife towards me. She got it into my shoulder.

I won’t get into the gory details, it’s boring for me to talk about. But I had managed to get to the stairwell, locking Layla out from getting to me again. I slumped against the door, breathing what I feared might be my last breath.

I thought about what my dad had said, how I should have never existed. Boy. Was I feeling that right now. All the times I could have died, probably should have died. It felt like the universe was out to get me for escaping it.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

He’s here! I forced myself to open my eyes, seeing Butch come up the stairs towards me, gun drawn.

Oh good, I thought. Finally.

I held my hand out towards him.

“Welp, this certainly is a mess.” He checked his gun, spinning the barrel before pointing his gun at me. “Won’t be much longer there.” He closed one eye to aim.

My breath shuddered as my hand extended to him. “Butch…” It was the first thing I had ever said since I was little.

Hesitating, Butch’s eyes widened as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“I love you!” Layla’s hysterical scream ripped through the stairwell.

Butch turned around, terrified by the sudden intrusion and shot Layla. She fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs until she reached a landing. Her naked body was splayed out against the white sheet, stained red by her blood and mine. Exactly what she wanted.

“Fucking hell!” Butch stared down the stairs at her. “Well, today is your lucky day. I only had the one bullet.” He looked back at me. I was still reaching for him, all my strength going towards that motion.

Kneeling down before me, Butch took hold of my hand. “It’s weird enough you can see me. But you said my name.”

Was this the same Butch I had seen so many times?

“I’ll stay here till you're found. It’s the least I can do.” He held my hand fast in his. “Strange. Have we met?”

I nodded weakly.

“I see then,” he breathed. “Well, pardner, I’m sorry I forgot your lovely face.”

This wasn’t the same Butch I had seen several times before. But he would be. That much I could feel. Don’t ask me to explain the feeling, I just knew.

Before I knew it, I was everywhere again. Not only had I survived the Monday Ripper, but now I survived a psycho fan. How lucky was I to survive so much. Someone must have wanted to keep me alive.

Yes. Someone did want to keep me alive.

Two:

It came as no surprise to me that my former camp was bought and opened up as a sort of resort, museum, reenactment theater. People would actually pay to stay the night there and act in a sort of mystery dinner party fashion. They didn’t do the story I survived, no they said that would be tasteless. They created a new story, but the Monday Ripper was still the killer.

I was invited to join on the anniversary of the actual event. It felt crass to me, but I joined anyway. I had nothing better to do. So I signed books, posters, etc until the main event. Everyone seemed to be excited, meanwhile all I could do was look at that lake. I was surprised they filled it back in, it seemed like a bad idea. Kids died there, you know?

“What was it like?” A young man asked me as we went towards the dining hall. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t talk but uhm…I always figured you gave a watered down version of your experience. I mean, I always tell the soft version of my dad,” he laughed nervously.

I glanced at him and took a deep sigh. I signed to him. “My killer is gone. Don’t go easy on yours.” I walked away from him, diverting my path away from the dining hall and going to the lake.

I sat on the dock, looking down into the water as I remembered watching Boy Alex go under and never come back up. Girl Alex’s roar still haunted me, more than any of the things I had gone through.

Stomp! Clink.

I held my breath tight into my chest.

Stomp! Clink.

I turned back and looked up, seeing Butch standing there behind me. The lake turned red with his glow.

He sat down beside me, looking out over the lake. He pointed across the way to the shore where he had laid me. “That was when you should have died the first time,” he said gently. “But I stopped it.”

I looked at him, hoping he would turn his eyes to me. “Then, at the lake when that girl and boy tried to kill one another for fun, you would have been forgotten.” He pulled a knee up to his chest and held it. “Then I saw you in your grandfather’s room.”

I furrowed my brow at him. “That’s not the order things happened.”

He looked at me with a laugh. “Confused? Don’t be. Death exists everywhere and anywhere. Right now, I'm here with you, but I’m also on the other side of that lake with you as well, making sure you don’t die.”

I scooted closer to him, resting my head upon his shoulder.

“I won’t let you die, not yet anyways,” Butch whispered. “There are things I can’t tell you now. But just know pardner, I’m with you always. Everywhere and anywhere, all at once.”

It was then I decided that, no matter what, I was going to do what I could to see Butch again. If he really was everywhere and anywhere all at once, then he would be waiting on me to do something.

But if he’s here now, then there must be a reason he’s out here now.

I looked back towards the camp where everyone must be gathered in the dining hall now and waiting on me.

Butch sighs. “Yeah. I gotta get to work.” He stands up, smoothing out his jacket then holding up his gun. “I’m technically not supposed to be here. But eh, call me crazy.” His red eyes flick down to me as I gaze up at him. “Don’t worry,” he finger guns at me. “I’ll be back for you, pardner. You can bet your sweet ass on it.”

Whatever that meant.

He went back up the dock and vanished into shadows. I went back to looking at the lake, gazing down at the dark waters.

Someone slipped and fell at the dinner party. They fell right onto one of the Monday Ripper props, and well, that’s all she wrote. The camp shut down, again, but probably not for long. Much like me, it can’t die.

“Would you say you’re a bad luck charm?” The question came from a crowd, from a face I couldn’t see due to stage lights.

I was taken aback by the question. Not because it was offensive, oh no, I’ve heard far worse in my day. Moreso, I was impressed by it, and the fact it had taken someone so long to figure it out. Hell, even I hadn’t thought of that.

The question and answer segment was part of a documentary filmed about me. It was a sort of indie project created by fans of the Monday Massacre story who wanted to get the true inside scoop on me and what became of me after the massacre.

I’ll admit the documentary was done extremely well, using clips and bits from my own personal collection, plus from those affected by the many tragedies that followed me. It should have been obvious from the body count in my wake that I was a ‘bad luck charm’.

“Interesting theory,” I signed and my interpreter spoke. “Shall we put it to the test?” Laughter rippled through the crowd, but in all honesty, I did want to test that theory. I wanted to see Butch again.

“I would say luck is an uncommon force surrounding our little survivor here,” the director of the documentary suddenly perked up.

I glanced his way, and noticed a slight smile on his lips. I could tell he had been holding this in for a while.

“The luck they have is very good, but that same luck doesn’t rub off on others the same way. Almost like God is using all the luck in the area to keep them alive.” He laughed, the crowd laughed, but he had no idea how his answer was more than likely correct. By all accounts I should have died decades ago when I was young. I should have died several times by now. But Butch has defied the odds, has defied the powers that be, just for me.

That’s when I knew for certain I was not affected by death. I couldn’t die.

By this point I was used to being in the spotlight, so when the documentary became an underground hit I was ready for what was to come. Luckily, the makers of the film got their due. They deserved it, they worked hard and made me into some believable folk hero.

“I don’t know if there is much left for them to go through,” the director said in an interview I was watching. “A massacre, an attempted murder, geez, all they’ve been through. It’s amazing really. But I don’t think much else will happen to them at this point. They’ve learned to traverse this world in such a way, they won’t come across much more danger.”

I hope he’s wrong. Sweet guy, but he doesn’t know the complete story. I never told him that bit. Well, if he knew where I was now he’d think differently. I was chained up inside my old cabin at the camp.

Yes, that camp.

Apparently, Girl Alex was never really dead. Who knew? I thought she’d been dredged up as a bloated mass from the bottom of the lake. But I was wrong. She’d suffered amnesia until she saw my documentary, now she’s back from the grave and who knows what else to seek her revenge on me. Cool I guess

Girl Alex tapped the TV screen with her knife. “Why didn’t you tell them? Huh?” She came towards me, looking like an unhinged soccer mom. Which she was now, apparently. Amnesia had been good for her. Too bad it didn’t last.

I had my hands chained up, what the hell did she expect me to say?

Lunging at me, Girl Alex snarled in my face. “About me?” She tilted her head to the side and giggled. “I was the Monday Ripper. You knew that! You saw me.” She placed the point of the knife against my temple. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

I’ve already mentioned she didn’t deserve the notoriety. Victims of serial killers get dick-all attention compared to the killers. That was the fate she deserved unlike her victims.

Her blonde bob swayed as she pulled away from me, turning off the television set by stabbing through it with the knife. She turned back to me, taking in deep, slow, purposeful breaths.

Ah, I can tell she does yoga from that breathing.

She waves her hands down her face. “Deescalate, don’t hyperventilate.”

I bet she uses essential oils.

“Seeing your stupid, blank face again brought it all back you know.” She sounded perky, cheery even. “My daughter simply insisted we go watch that documentary. She loves the Monday Massacre films, you know?” She grinned at me. “Little does she know it’s Mommy! Little did I know,” she cackled.

Please, don’t monologue. Anything but the monologue.

To my surprise she lunged at me, carving that knife into me like I was the crust on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Oh no, excuse me, one of her kids must have an allergy, so a sunflower seed butter and jelly sandwich.

Glaring into my eyes, Girl Alex looked at me, prim, proper, completely fucking batshit crazy. Aside from some blood on her face, she looked like anyone. She pulled the knife back and stabbed it down into the bunkbed post.

“Stay there,” she murmured. She gathered up my clothes. “I just have to burn these, then I’m gonna put you back into that lake where you belong.” Her voice was sing-songy.

She was creative once. Maybe years of motherhood have dulled her edges. Or it was the amnesia and brain damage, who knows? Well, I certainly never expected this, so good on her for surprising me again.

The shock was wearing off and the pain from her slicing and dicing into me was setting in. I could barely catch a breath the way she had my arms chained up. It hurt, it hurt bad. Maybe she had a point. If the lake didn’t kill me the bacteria in it infecting these wounds would.

Why am I being sarcastic now? What’s the point? My dad must be laughing at me. His shoulders shaking, arm crossed against his ribs as the guttural, deep laugh rose up from the pits of hell.

Girl Alex stepped back into the room, wearing her Monday Ripper outfit. The mask was mass produced, the outfit was probably from Gap. “Do you know how many of these I bought?” She grasped hold of her face through the mask. “Never once realizing it was me? I couldn’t stomach watching the movies.” She strutted towards me. “All I knew was that my kids and husband loved them. Maybe that’s why they loved me so much.” She tried pulling the knife from the bedpost but was having a hell of a time.

“I’ve got a real nice rock to hold you down with. You won’t be escaping that lake again anytime soon.”

I really wish I knew how she did that in the first place.

Girl Alex gave up on pulling out the knife and squatted down before me. “Hope the follow up documentary does me justice.” She slapped me, hard, across the face then stood up to try and remove the knife she embedded in the wooden post.

Stomp! Clink.

Holy shit, no way.

Stomp! Clink.

“Moterfucker!” Girl Alex snarled as she tried to yank out the knife. “What the fuck is holding this piece of shit!”

Stomp! Clink.

I closed my eyes and relaxed. Butch was here.

The knife wiggled and Girl Alex laughed. She yanked again, dislodging it a bit more. She laughed in triumph as she pulled it out.

Bang!

She stumbled, tripped backwards. Waving her arms in the air she tried to hold herself up. Instead, she fell, the back of her head colliding with the corner of the dresser the television set sat upon. She fell onto the knife too for good measure.

I opened my eyes and watched as Butch stood there in the doorway. He was watching Girl Alex on the ground for a moment before he stepped into the room.

“We have got to stop meeting like this, pardner.” He swooped into the room, kneeling down before me. He made quick work of the rope and picked me up, laying me down on the bunk bed. He opened my clothes, looking underneath at Girl Alex’s art piece.

“Dammit pardner.” He touched my face, holding it gently. He leaned down, placing his lips upon mine. Oh, how lovely. I couldn’t have asked for a better, more romantic moment than this.

Of course I’m joking, I’m bleeding out.

Or maybe not. Much like Snow White, I suddenly felt better because of a kiss. I didn’t feel so weak, so gross. I looked down, seeing that Girl Alex’s pumpkin carving was gone. Just dried blood remained.

I sat up, smoothing my palm down my chest.

“Much better.” Butch took off his jacket and draped it around me. “Now, let's take care of this mess, if you don’t mind.” He motioned to Girl Alex dead on the floor.

We drug Girl Alex out to the lake, tying her to the rock she had intended for me. How funny it would end up this way all over again? I never expected this. I gazed up into the sky, seeing the moon was full and beautiful.

“Ready pardner?” Butch picked up the large rock.

I nodded.

Butch chucked the rock into the lake, aiming for the middle. The rock pulled yanking on Girl Alex’s legs and dragging her along the shore then…plop. Into the lake she went.

“Lots of memories at this place, ain’t there pardner?” Butch chuckled.

I tackled him. I kissed him, hungry and wanting to devour him. He grasped onto the ground, gasping for a breath as I stole each one he had. His hands grabbed hold of me and I’m not sure which way he’s gonna move me. There was a softness to his face, that the shadows under his hat were a smooth, cool flesh. Shadow flesh. I straddled his hips, looking down at him as I pinned him to the ground.

Butch relaxed upon the ground, his hands going up my hips. “Gonna ride a cowboy, eh pardner?”

God he’s stupid, I love him.

I leaned down to kiss him again as something poked into my thigh. Perfect. I kissed down his chest, his shadow flesh curled up along my face. I kissed further, opening his chaps up and laying aside his massive belt buckle. A dark shaft came up from inside, it curved and shadows licked off the tip. I took Butch into my mouth, sucking him generously as his moans and sighs came out rather loudly. I was surprised. But his low voice just made them sound all the better.

I had been waiting for this moment for so long, I wanted to do all I could to him.

The air was cold, clinging to my body as I pushed him down into the damp earth near the lake. His eyes were glowing bright, illuminating me, us, together in that place. The water lapped at the shore, followed by my deep breaths. Inside me I could imagine him as raging fire, reigniting the light inside of me for the first time in decades.

I let out my voice, a moan here, a grunt there. I had to still for a moment, breathing out thick clouds in the cold airå as I looked down at him.

Butch reached up, touching my face and brushing away my thick hair. “I remember the first time I saw you,” he muttered.

It took me aback at first.

“Sitting there in that stairwell, bloodied, cold-” his voice drifted and a tremor clutched his throat. “You said my name.”

It was his first time seeing me, but it had been one of many for me.

“I wanted to know you. Why you knew me.” His palm pressed to my cheek, sliding so I could kiss the center. The shadows were soft, the bones were as close to his soul as I could find.

A soft, low chuckle escaped his lips. “I pissed off a lot of people loving you, pardner.”

My eyes widened and I lifted up my head, staring down at him as the chill wrapped more around my naked body. Did he say what I think he said? My mind reeled, but it was also the calmest it had ever been.

“Butch,” my voice crackled.

A smile came through his eyes, and another gentle laugh rippled from his throat. “When death comes for you, it will be an army that I will have to fight off.”

Tears came to my eyes.

“But I’ll do it.” He closed one eye, raising his finger gun to me. “Bang, bang.”

That’s so stupid. I laid over, kissing him passionately and starting the motions again. I didn’t want him to leave me, ever. I wanted him inside me. This idiotic desperado with his finger guns and fringe, he’s mine, only mine. And he’s taking on the very nature of death for me, for some foolish reason.

“I can’t hold on much longer, pardner.” His voice was strained, not in a painful way, more like he was trying to desperately hold on. “You’re too good at this.”

I take pride in my work, but this is the greatest compliment I ever received. I wanted him undone and struggling. I wanted to suck the very breath from his bones. Well, if he breathed at all I mean. I cranked up my efforts to beyond ten, I was aching but pleased as I roughly shook him to his core. My core was awakening also. The flame from him was filling me, spreading to every nerve, every forgotten piece of myself.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He was holding onto me so tight, like he needed me to survive the storm I was bringing upon him. Good, he needed a life preserver apparently.

The only word I could think of was blossoming. I blossomed. All those years hiding under my dying grandfather’s bed hadn’t been for nothing.

Yippie-yi-o. Yippy-yi-yay.

I’m the ghost rider.

Butch didn’t move or speak for a long while. We laid there by the lake, staring up at the sky as my breath began to settle.

“Been many a moon since I felt that,” Butch whispered. He stretched out his arm, laying it over my belly. I place my hands over his. “Might be many more.”

Don’t say that! I turned my head to look at him, seeing his eyes focused upon me, a smile glistening inside. He didn’t want it to be long, but unfortunately, it would have to be.

Three:

With Girl Alex gone, my past was all but erased. No one from before existed anymore, and thus, it would seem like a fitting conclusion to the story. Wouldn’t it? But that is not how most stories end, not when they’re good like mine.

The camp was purchased, yet again, only this time it was bulldozed. Thank god. The lake was filled. An even bigger sign of relief. Now it was a prosperous little subdivision of tiny houses. Okay I guess.

Any idea that it was the location of the Monday Massacre was heavily edited and a new storyline was pushed to see these adorable tiny houses. Nothing bad ever happened there, no sir, they promised. Everything was squeaky clean. No skeletons in any closet. Maybe in the ground. But certainly no one was to know that.

I never even knew until a few years after its completion when I had the nerve to go and visit the lake. But to my surprise there was no lake at all. I simply stood at the spot where the lake had been. Now there were tiny houses covering it with pristine lawns, raised gardens, blah, blah, blah.

I don’t know what I was feeling as I stood there. Disappointment? Relief? Anger? Really, I had no way to sort through them. It was strange. I was ready to lay things to rest, to put my past behind me and finally, fucking finally move forward. But I couldn’t? Or maybe it had been forced for me. Wow, I’ve gotten so good at processing shit that it’s like a computer error going off in my brain now.

“Looking for a home?” Someone with too big of a smile approached me.

I had a home, but what did she know? Idle chit chat was nothing I cared about, I simply knew how to do it. I nodded.

“Oh! My! Gosh! We have so much to sell! We’re building new lots everyday!” She motioned to the house before me, right where the dock would have been before. “This place is wonderful, isn’t it?”

Would’ve been better with a lake, I thought snidely to myself. But she probably would’ve popped a gasket had I said that. “Yeah it’s cute.”

“Oh! My! Gosh! Cute doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She grabbed me, triggering a response that made my blood run cold. “Let me show you!”

“So, I wasn’t aware of this property,” I muttered while trying fervidly to ignore her hand grabbing my arm. “What used to be here.”

“Oh! My! Gosh! It used to be this big property that belonged to this old man. Poor thing couldn’t maintain it anymore. It became so overgrown that even the poor little animals couldn’t live here!”

I don’t think this woman knows how nature works.

She dragged me inside. I was standing right where the dock would have ended. One more step and I would have been in the lake again. That dark, decayed water full of death. It had swallowed boy Alex and Girl Alex. Now, I was standing on top of them. If I went a little to the left, well, I was where Butch and I had been.

I didn’t hear what ‘Oh! My! Gosh!’ Was saying. I was too fascinated by where I was standing and what it meant. My heart was racing, my palms sweaty.

I bought the tiny house, not that I needed it or anything. More out of obligation and sense of respect to Girl Alex, Boy Alex, all those pulled under by the lake that was now filled in. I was the only one who knew of this resting place, of the history this land holds. Only I knew how much blood was spilled on this earth.

“We’re holding a Halloween decor competition,” a neighbor of the tiny house subdivision told me. “Best house wins a really awesome prize.” They seemed so excited about it. I found it hysterical. Halloween was on a Monday this year.

This place is either filled with old people trying to escape clutter, but still have too much money for their own good, as well as supposedly alt couples who prefer the color beige to educate their kids. I could be judgy, but I don’t get out much.

“Here! Look this over.” They handed me a flier that was decorated in so much halloween clipart I could feel design majors everywhere crying.

“You seem like a spooky one.” She said in a warbling tone to mimic a ghost.

I looked at her and her pristine beach waves, peasant dress, and turquoise jewelry. I’ve seen her a million times in different places.

I started signing to her and she looked scared for a moment.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-” Her eyes were wide, watching my hands as I pulled them back from signing.

“It’s a Halloween contest!” She said loudly while doing exaggerated movements with her arms to get the point across.

I scowled at her. I didn’t talk, I could hear her just fine. I tapped my ear.

She gasped again. “Oh! I’m sorry I-” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’M SO SORRY-”

I slammed the door in her face and turned my music way up. I watched her from between the shutters on the door. She looked mortified, then angry, then scoffed as another neighbor came by her.

Holy shit Butch, where the hell are you when I need you the most?

I looked at the flier, after having kept it rather than shove it back at her. A Halloween contest to see who could have the best decor around their tiny house. Well, I knew some people in the production side of the movies. I bet I could show them a thing or two about spooky.

I never really cared for Halloween much. Then again, I never liked many holidays. I liked the food that came with them and that was about it. Halloween was always the time I was busiest anyways, what with meet and greets, conventions, book tours. People love my scary ass tales when it's October.

Anyways, friends I had made through the years came to my tiny house to give it the horror treatment. They were all too happy to show off their talents and turn my tiny house into a haunted house. In retrospect, I might have let them go a bit too far, as everyone else in the tiny subdivision were putting up things from Home Depot, Wal-mart, etc. There were a couple of giant skeletons, but it was all the work of dads with not much to do, or moms wanting to impress their kids, somehow. My house looked like it had risen up from the lake to come and torment all the other houses.

“That certainly is…unique!” A mom said to me.

“You can’t seriously think this is okay?” This old man had been yelling at me about anything and everything I did to my property. My flowers had been too colorful. My porch wasn’t painted enough. My doormat was too far from the door. So this fell on deaf ears.

A child who had been gawking with an open mouth and zero expression suddenly burst into absolute joyous squirming. “It’s so cool!”

Ah good, the reactions I wanted. To be left alone and judged in silence.

“I know who you are.”

Not good! I bristled, turning cold from my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes. Please. I don’t want to be known. I barely want to be perceived.

The man who stood before me didn’t look like he fit into this tiny subdivision either. He was wearing cowboy boots and everything else was jeans. I just looked him up and down until his hands signed.

“Monday massacre.” He signed with a huge, smile on his overly tanned face.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He held up his hands. “Hold on there,” he chuckled. “I’m a fan!”

I’ve had fans. My eyes remain firmly narrowed.

Oh wait. I can actually talk to this guy. “I’ve had fans before,” I signed to him.

He shrugged. “I know. And I ain’t intending to be one of them. I’m just surprised to see you back here, that’s all.”

“You know where we are?” I said with my hands.

He smirked. “How can I not? My family used to own this place after all. Well, before I was ever a twinkle in my dad’s balls.”

Crap, that was funny.

He chuckled. “We sold it to the people who turned it into a camp, you see.” He leaned against my stair railing. “I used to spend summers with my grandparents in that old house across the road.”

I knew that house. I used to think it was abandoned by how much stuff piled up around it over the years.

“I’ve been fixing the place up, hoping to sell it too,” he sighed.

“How bad was it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Hoarders leave a challenge, I’ll give ya that. But for the time being, a tiny house ain’t so bad.” He nodded at me. “What about you?”

My eyes returned to their natural narrowed and judgemental state. “What about me?”

He places his hands upon his overly jeaned hips. “Why are ya here of all places again? Wouldn’t this be the exact place you’d wanna get away from?”

I shrugged at him and turned to go back inside.

“Name’s Billy.”

Of course it is, I think to myself as I close the door behind me.

Halloween came, and with it, the whole tiny subdivision gathered together to make sure the night was a success. They would be inviting people in to come trick or treat while also voting on the best decorations in the neighborhood.

I knew what I was about. I didn’t expect to win, I only decorated in order to get all the ‘community’ off my back. I also didn’t expect trick or treaters at my house of horrors but I still bought candy anyways. Maybe I am a bit of a dreamer, who knows?

I had been fooling around with Billy on and off through the month. His cowboyish nature did things to me, and like Butch said, who knows when we could be together again. Billy was a replacement, a toy hidden under the bed in a small box. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t need him, but he was fun to keep around for emergencies.

“You ain’t in costume,” Billy said as he walked up my stairs. That overly tanned face of his was painted to look like a skeleton. Faker, I thought. You aren’t my cowboy.

I flicked my eyes to him. “Why would I be?” I took my bowl of candy and myself back inside. Billy followed behind me.

“I’m surprised to see you with candy.” He took a piece from the bowl and began to unwrap it.

I raised my hands again. “Do you really think you know me so well? Tell me what else you know about me?”

Billy popped the blue raspberry hard candy into his mouth, smudging the paint on his lips. “Why, I have the book on that,” he chuckled, inching closer towards me.

I swear to god, if this is another super fan situation, I’m going to-

“I don’t mean anything by it. I just, I dunno, I’m pretty reclusive my own self.” He leaned back, smiling out the window at the lights and line of kids coming up the road.

I watched him closely, he was relaxed.

He chuckled softly, gazing out into the distance. “You’ve been through enough to know your limits. I figured Halloween would be one of them.” He turned and smiled at me.

I shrugged. Maybe I was on high alert for nothing.

Billy leaned in, pressing a blue raspberry flavored kiss to my lips. Before I could respond, he gasped. I opened my eyes, seeing a look of terror on his face. He clutched his throat, gasping and choking for breath.

Oh shit! He was choking on blue raspberry! That was the least killer flavor!

Billy looked at me, eyes bulging, face changing colors from bright red, to purple. Veins appeared and he was thrashing around, throwing himself against the walls.

I was surprised I couldn’t move. It was my grandfather’s hospital room all over again. I was frozen, trapped there unable to do anything. Billy came to me, weakly throwing himself at me and clawing down my body as he fell. Billy didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to come into my wake.

Stomp! Clink.

This isn’t fair.

Stomp! Clink.

Why do I suck so bad? Why can’t I move?

Stomp! Clink.

I looked up into Butch’s red, glowing eyes as tears appeared.

“So that was you,” Butch murmured as he stared back at me. “The kid under the bed.” He took his gun out and held it in his palm. “I know that look from anywhere, pardner.” He wiped away the black paint from my lips.

I looked down at Billy on the ground.

Bang.

The restoration on his grandparent’s place was going well. The smell of fresh paint and wood was everywhere. Or at least, it had been. I tucked myself away up in the attic. Apparently, no one knew Billy owned this place, so it had been left alone all this time.

“It’ll be soon,” Butch whispered to me.

I took in a deep breath and sighed, standing up to join him at the window. I placed my hand over his, gazing into the red glow. He squeezed my hand tight.

“Death is pretty easy though,” he murmured to me. He turned to face me, taking both my hands in his. The glow from the window reminded me of an altar in a church. The stained glass illuminated over a couple as they made their vows.

“Life is hard, but it’s what makes death worthwhile,” he told me in a smooth, even voice. He clutched my hands tight, raising them up to kiss my knuckles. “But this death, oh, what a show it will be.”

“Butch,” I whispered.

He nodded, giving me a big grin. “This has been a wonderful journey, pardner. I followed you in this life, now, I’m going to follow you into the next.” He placed his gun into my palm.

“Guns ablazing,” he whispered.

I opened my mouth, my tongue unsure, my throat unused, but I sang like my grandfather used to sing to me. “'Cause they've got to ride forever, On that range up in the sky. On horses snorting fire. As they ride on, hear their cry.”

Butch chuckled, leaning in and kissing me. “Are those your final words?”

I shook my head. Despite my silence I had so much to say. You wouldn’t be able to keep me quiet if you tried.

I heard voices fill the house, door opened loudly, footsteps began rattling about as if they were on the walls and ceiling. The horde of death sent for me was finally coming. Butch had told me all about them. Every time I almost died, it was death coming for me. But everytime, another death stopped them. All those grim reapers sent after me, were now fighting to be the first to take me. I was a game, a prize. All these years alive had made me the bane of the underworld. I was a royal in a palace, with Butch as the dragon guarding me.

I couldn’t die, but that was because Butch wasn’t ready to let me go. I don’t blame him. Had our places been switched, I would have done the same thing. Well, maybe later on we will switch. Maybe we’ll stand side by side and not behind separate lines. Kids growing up. Playing cowboys. Riding on forever in that range up in the sky.

I stepped forward, aiming one of Butch’s gun to the door.

Stomp! Clink.

Butch aimed as well.

The door swelled and bucked as death came for me. They reached in with long, bony hands, screaming my name over and over again. I pulled back on the trigger, holding in my breath and steeling myself.

Click. Click.

Bang.

The sky above the lake was beautiful. There were so many stars, so much light in what should be endless darkness. I laid there, feeling the moist earth against my bare back. I rose up, seeing figures standing on the other side of the lake with all their backs turned towards me. I stood, watching them without saying a word.

I took a deep sigh and walked to the dock, going to the edge and looking down at the black depths. I saw stars there too, lighting up a vast, endless abyss that should have taken all light and killed it.

There’s always hope, I told myself. There’s always Butch.

I stepped off the dock and sank into the deep waters. I fell down, going further and further until there were only stars above me again. A red glow lit up the area around me.

“It’s okay, pardner.”

I smiled, closing my eyes and breathing in the lake.

I smelled a campfire as I stirred. I opened my eyes to the red glow of it, and a vast horizon of endless stars before me. I sat up, looking into the fire. I guess it didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing. The death hoard tucked me somewhere. I reached towards the fire, seeing my hands were pale and my nails pitch black. I stared for a moment, seeing my bones begin to rise from the smoke of my skin.

Stomp! Clink.

I turned and looked up at Butch who was carrying a jug in one hand.

“Good morning, pardner.” He tossed a gun down into the dusty earth before me. He tilted his hat back, revealing more of his red eyes to me. “Today is just the beginning.”

I smiled and rose to be with him.

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